Amelia inched away from the group, ready to make a break for it should the need arise. Something bubbling up uneasily within her said nothing good would come from this. Somehow, she felt far more in danger now than when she had been detained by Lord Norwich alone.
“I see.” This Mr. Weston, shorter and appearing far more serious than Lord Norwich, glared again at the latter before settling his gaze on Amelia once again. “Well. It is not the thing, but I find myself in need of a formal introduction. Mrs. Wadham, if you would?”
“Oh, yes, yes! Mr. Weston, you are in the presence of Lady Amelia, youngest daughter of the Duke of Stafford. Lady Amelia, Mr. Weston.”
Mr. Weston bowed far too formally for someone addressing a half-drowned slip of a girl. In another situation, the man may have been seen as a knight in shining armor, rather than the seal on a letter holding the worst of news. But he seemed to have forgotten his armor, and Amelia was left awaiting the bad news. “Yes, I am acquainted with your father and sisters. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Amelia nodded regally—as regally as she could manage while she was a walking puddle. The bonnet still weighed heavily atop her head, and she could feel water dripping between her shoulder blades. Her half boots sloshed embarrassingly when she shifted. She’d only been trying to help a child in trouble when she’d heard that crying. A pit formed in her stomach—she’d only been trying to help the last time as well. And she’d been left with lifelong scars. What would she be left with this time?
She dipped into a curtsy. Despite her current condition, she outranked every person here, and now they all knew it. She could bluff her way out of this situation. Certainly, she could.
Her chin lifted an inch. “A pleasure, Mr. Weston. Though it would seem we meet under unhappy circumstances. I managed to fall into the lake, and Lord Norwich rescued me.” It pained her to say the words, but she desperately needed to excuse her current situation. Her head swung about, looking at each person in turn, willing them to understand that this was in no way her fault.
She watched as Mrs. Wadham exchanged raised eyebrows with her maid, and Amelia twisted her hands together behind her back.Drat drat drat.As she watched, another party turned the bend ahead of their group.
Time to leave.
“If you will excuse me—”
“Mrs. Wadham.” The man, Mr. Weston, spoke across her. She scowled. A part of her could see he only meant to provide assistance, but she could not help thinking the park was full of heavy-handed gentlemen that evening. “Do you have a carriage nearby to escort Lady Amelia home?”
“I am perfectly able to escortLadyAmelia home.” Lord Norwich stepped up beside her, all traces of mirth or challenge gone. Heavy-handed indeed. How did this party know she did not have herowncarriage to take her home?
She didn’t, of course. But shecouldhave.
“Oh no, you don’t, Lord Norwich. You have done quite enough.” Mrs. Wadham wagged her finger at Lord Norwich “Your nerve is incredible. Why, I never—well, never mind that. I will escort her. Come, child.” With a huff of superiority, she held out her arm to Amelia, shying away only slightly as she approached Amelia’s sodden clothing. Though aggravated at being called a child, she nodded to Mrs. Wadham but did not take her elbow. She strode past the gentlemen, wishing to put the whole ordeal far, far behind her.
Mrs. Wadham clucked as they strode away, barely suppressed glee coloring her voice when she spoke. “Oh, this is not going to end well for him, Lady Amelia. There is no chance your father will allow him to walk free without some sort of reprobation. Serves the vile man right, abandoning so many ruined women.”
Amelia hardly heard her, entwining her hands tightly against the wet fabric of her dress. Her chest felt jittery with relief at having escaped Lord Norwich, but her mind somehow knew this was not the end of her predicament. Escaping him was not so sweet a victory when she could not escape the gossip that would follow such an encounter. Nor the censure that would come once she returned home.
Mrs. Wadham said something that made her own self laugh as she alighted into her carriage. With far slower steps, Amelia followed, resisting the urge to look over her shoulder. For what, she hadn’t a clue. Perhaps to look back on the disaster she had just avoided. Or perhaps to prolong the inevitable disaster to come.
Chapter Four
She ought to have brokenher fast in her chamber.
Simultaneously, Amelia and Henrietta looked up from their respective plates, caught the other looking, and quickly looked back down. They were the only two in the room, and after only five minutes of silence, Amelia was ready to forgo her meal and escape back upstairs.
Yet she was being presented an opportunity, and she ought to take it.
With care, Amelia set her fork down. “Henrietta?”
She did not look up.
“I wondered if you might tell me something.”
She glanced quickly up then back at her plate. “Edith was greatly upset that you missed the ball last night.”
Ah. Which was to say that Edith would be greatly upset if she learned Henrietta had not given Amelia the censure she deserved.
Amelia bit her lip. “I am terribly sorry, Henrietta. I was not feeling well.” She repeated the falsehood her maid had apparently concocted when Amelia had not returned until well into the evening.
Henrietta turned to the closed door, watched it a moment, then her expression softened. “I am sorry you were unwell.”
And now Amelia felt horrible for the falsehood. “I am fine now. Only... I wondered what you might be able to tell me about Lord Norwich.”
Her sister’s eyebrows flew up. “Whyever would you wish to know a thing about him?”
