“If you are trying to tempt me into singing a duet with you, I must respectfully decline. My talents are many, but singing is not among them.”
“I find that hard to believe.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing a sapphire earring that matched the color of her gown.
“And why is that?” He laughed easily, taking her empty glass and his, and setting them on the mantle nearby. “If you believe I have no flaws—”
“I know you better than that.” Her eyes softened momentarily, until she turned them on the room. “But you are an exceedingly impressive gentleman. And every lady here knows it.”
Directed to look around them, Nicholas caught sight of a group of young ladies converging around Mary-Ann at the pianoforte. They gawked openly at Amelia and Nicholas, poorly hiding their envious expressions behind their patterned fans.
“I find it more likely that they are jealous ofyou,” he suggested. “You look lovely tonight... The most splendid woman present by far....”
Amelia visibly started, her cheeks turning pink. Nicholas could not recall whether he had ever openly complimented her before. But she must have known how beautiful he found her. How much he admired her.
How much he cared.
“You are obliged to say that as my husband,” she protested weakly.
“Is that so?” This was dangerous territory, but he could not stop himself. “I remember no such clause included in our marriage contract. And I would have remembered such a thing. We were quitethoroughin our preparations.”
Her blush spread to her bosom, and he had to look away, his trousers growing tight. Yes, shemusthave known the effect she had on him, looking at him like that, speaking to him in that low, inviting voice.
“Perhaps not thorough enough,” she murmured, swaying unconsciously toward him. Her hand brushed against his thigh—on purpose?
Nicholas said a prayer and glanced heavenward, knowing he should not entertain their conversation a moment longer. And yet…
“Do tell me what we missed,” he whispered.
“A…stipulation,which prohibited you from making me feel so…” She stopped herself, sucked in a shaky breath. “From making mewantto…”
She scrunched her nose and looked away. Nicholas felt he could read her mind and laughed. Surely, she was not suggesting what he thought she was? That they should have included a clause that forbade them from longing for one another?
A wicked thought crossed his mind then. He glanced at the door, wondering whether she would follow if he asked her to, whether he had read her intentions correctly. He imagined taking her somewhere private, having her explain in lurid detail the things they should have been forbidden from wanting.
Daring her to let him show her why there was nothing to fear.
“If you mean to…” he began, but a sudden change in Amelia’s expression put a quick end to his suggestion.
She took a step back, colliding with an older gentleman behind her. Nicholas turned to see what had frightened her.
And a switch flipped within him, overwhelmed by a hot surge of anger.
“Do not,” Amelia warned, grabbing his arm. “Nicholas,please…”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The moment Amelia’s fingers tightened around his arm, he knew what she had seen. She tried to smile when the gentleman she had collided with apologized, but Nicholas could not hide his disgust for anything in the world.
He stared at Paul de Rees across the drawing room and felt his blood chill in his veins. The man stood by the fireplace, laughing with another young gentleman, as though he had any right to walk among polite society after what he had done.
The Last Rose of Summerwas a distant hum beneath the roar of Nicholas’s anger—beneath the memory of Amelia, convulsing after her assault.
“Stay here,” he ordered his wife, his voice low and edged with something sharp. “He must be told to leave. I will not stand to see him here breathing the same air as you.”
She caught his sleeve again. “Nicholas, do not make this worse by causing a scene. We should not… I should not… Oh, please, do nothing,” she urged him, her voice breaking with a sob.
The sound devastated him worse than the presence of Paul de Rees. He turned, worried Amelia would collapse again. But she merely stood staring at the floor, a tear rolling down her cheek.
She was right.
