It was clear that neither of them had any intention of allowing her to redirect the conversation. Amelia knew when it was time toadmit defeat. “You may have a corpse to bury at the end of this outing,” she insisted. “For I may die of boredom.”
“I’ll risk it if you will,” Margaret said to the earl.
Lord Castledon let out a genuine laugh, the first Amelia had ever heard. Deep and resonant, the sound warmed her, inviting her to smile. His blue eyes crinkled around the edges, but his stare struck her like a club.
Amelia’s skin jolted with gooseflesh, as if he’d physically touched her. She was caught up in the man’s eyes, suddenly seeing him in a different way. No, he didn’t have strong features like Viscount Lisford, but the earl was undeniably masculine, with a stubborn jaw and a firm mouth.
Her plans were crumbling all around her, making her question every decision she’d made. Here she was, trying to set Margaret up with the earl…and it was backfiring on her. Her own heart was softening toward Lord Castledon, and that was not good at all.
“We won’t let you die of boredom, Miss Amelia.” The earl turned to the driver and directed him to take them to Vauxhall Gardens.
Amelia nodded and forced a smile to her face that she didn’t feel. Instead, she stared outside, feeling as if her plans were being pulled apart at the seams. She had chosen the man she wanted to marry, and she intended to reform Viscount Lisford until he was the perfect suitor.
Surely the fluttering in her stomach was only nerves. It could not be anything more than that. But when she glanced back at the earl, she found herself imagining what else lay beneath the surface of this man.
He’d locked away his heart and had chosen a frozen existence, one where he wore black and refused to feel happy. If anyone needed saving, it was this man. He needed someone to bring joy back into his life. Perhaps even another child.
No.Her conscience shut off the thought. It was Margaret’s turn for happiness. Her sister had waited years to find the perfect man, and the earl was exactly what she needed.
Lord Castledon helped them both down from the carriage, and when he took Amelia’s hand, the casual touch of his palm made her want to hold it.
Stop it, stop it, stop it.If there was a way to throttle her own heart, she needed to do it now. She didn’t even understand what was the matter with her.
Amelia stepped to the side to allow Margaret to walk near the earl, keeping near enough to chaperone, but remaining slightly behind them.
But when Lord Castledon turned, he winked at her. And she felt her heart sliding further down a path she didn’t want to tread upon.
David kept close by the two young women, fully aware that Amelia was bothered by something. Instead of her usual forthright behavior, she was avoiding eye contact with him. He knew precisely why she had arranged this outing—to try and bring him together with Margaret. Though he hadn’t particularly wanted to go, there was no real reason to refuse. He’d promised himself he would make an effort to find the right woman to wed. And that meant leaving his house and forcing himself to go out.
To his surprise, Margaret had the same sense of humor as himself. He immediately recognized that she had no interest in him, but she was delighting in thwarting Amelia’s meddling. It had become a silent game, to see what move she would make next, after he and Margaret parried each attempt.
But now, Amelia appeared embarrassed, and he didn’t know what he’d said or done. He’d winked at her, meaning to show that he didn’t intend any insult, but she’d seemed even more uncomfortable after that. He wasn’t certain why. A man could make a fortune if he could write a pamphlet of instructions about how to interpret a woman’s feelings.
David led the two women around the gardens, past entertainers and jugglers. Margaret was having a fine time, exclaiming her delight when she saw a hot air balloon in the distance. But Amelia remained strangely silent. He moved to her side after Margaret went to look at some rose blossoms. “Are you unwell?”
She shook her head. “No. I’m merely trying to give you and my sister some time together.”
Her gaze remained upon the ground, and David commanded softly, “Look at me, Amelia.”
When she did, her green eyes held wariness. Her golden hair was pulled back beneath her bonnet, and her skin was pale—almost as if he made her nervous, for some reason. Never in his life had he seen Amelia Andrews afraid of anything.
“I know you aren’t feeling well because you aren’t speaking.” Before she could deny it, he continued. “I’ve known you for the past four years, and silent is not a word that describes you. You would talk to wallpaper if you thought it would answer back.”
She glared at him, which was a definite improvement. “Wallpaper might have more interesting things to say thansomepeople.”
Now her spark had returned. He decided to bait her a little further. “I am quite good at conversing. You, of all people, should know that.”
“The weather, Lord Castledon? Honestly, you should—”
“Margaret and I were only having a bit of fun. Which was what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
She quieted and shrugged. “I suppose.”
To change the subject, he pointed toward the hot air balloon. “Would you ever enjoy riding in one of those?”
“I would sooner throw myself into the Thames off the London Bridge.” Amelia shuddered. “I despise heights. If a woman were meant to fly, God would have placed wings upon her. The last time I checked, I have no wings.”
“I thought you were more adventurous than that.” He offered her his arm, and after a moment of hesitation, she took it, before they followed Margaret through the gardens.
