“Amelia,” Margaret warned, but she wasn’t listening to her older sister’s warning. If she wanted to help Lord Castledon, then that’s exactly what she would do.
“I really think you ought to consider him. He’s not so bad.” The longer she was around Lord Castledon, the more attractive he was. He might be far too serious for her, but there was something about his mysterious demeanor that drew her in.
It was his eyes, Amelia decided. They were such an honest deep blue, a woman could lose herself in them. And since he’d never openly pursued any young miss, it only added to the enigma.
She had to be cautious, however. If she continued to insist upon the match between Castledon and Margaret, her sister might protestall the more. Better to arrange things on her own. Subtlety was best when plotting to bring two people together.
“Well, if you don’t want to marry him, I can at least help him find someone,” Amelia said, pretending that she’d given up on the idea. “What about Lavinia Harrow? She made her debut last year.”
Margaret began to set forth arguments of why Amelia shouldn’t get involved, but she ignored her sister’s comments. She saw no harm at all in playing matchmaker. The earl clearly needed help, and she didn’t mind assisting him—especially if she brought him together with Margaret. Even so, she had to come up with other possibilities so it wouldn’t be too obvious.
She wrote Lavinia’s name down and a few others. As she thought of young women who might suit the earl, once again she thought of his brooding good looks. He needed someone tall, like himself. Someone who could breathe life into his melancholy and give him a bit of happiness again.
A soft tingle pressed down on the back of her neck as she remembered the way his hands had held her waist during the dancing. He was stronger than he appeared, and she suppressed a sigh, remembering those eyes. She could almost imagine him staring at her, before his mouth came down upon hers.
She shook away the thought. Where hadthatcome from? The earl wasn’t that sort of man at all. He lurked on the edges of ballrooms and likely didn’t know how to kiss a woman. A few years ago, she’d made the teasing remark to her sisters that he had the personality of a handkerchief.
But that wasn’t true. Not really. Though he might seem boring on the surface, she couldn’t shake the thought that there was more beneath it all. Lord Castledon had come to speak with her on several occasions over the years, and his dry wit had made her laugh.A wall hedge, he’d called himself a few years ago, instead of a wallflower.
“Amelia, haven’t you been listening?” Margaret demanded.
She set down her pen and shook away the daydreams. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
“I said that you have a fitting with Madame Benedict this afternoon. Would you like me to go with you?”
The so-called fitting wasn’t at all for a gown. Unbeknownst to her sisters, Amelia had begun working with the modiste to help bring in more sales for Aphrodite’s Unmentionables. She often pretended to be there for a fitting while singing the praises of the undergarments. In return, Madame Benedict gave her a significant reduction in price on anything Amelia wanted. It amused her to help with the sales, though it was highly improper.
But then, perhaps therewassomething she could do while she was there. Margaret could benefit from a new gown, one that would help her catch the eye of the unmarried gentlemen. Something with a very daring cut, just above the bosom—one that would make her feel young again. Though Margaret covered herself up too often, Amelia often thought that a good bosom was an excellent way to catch a man’s attention.
She smiled at Margaret. “Yes, I would like you to come with me.”
Sarah Carlisle crumpled the letter and tossed it into the hearth. Inwardly, her panic was rising so fast, she didn’t know what to do now. Her brother Brandon, the Earl of Strathland, had gone mad a few years ago, and a commission of lunacy had been issued, declaring him incompetent. All of his assets and entailed estates had gone under the control of their second cousin, a man whomSarah despised. Lewis Barnabas had cut her pin money down to almost nothing, and beyond the basic necessities, she had little to call her own.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if she had a husband to rely on. But the one man she’d wanted, the Earl of Castledon, hadn’t cast her a second glance. Even her efforts to be alone with him had backfired, and idle gossip had labeled her as a desperate woman.
Her chances of finding a husband were next to nothing, but it was her only way of escaping Mr. Barnabas. Her skin crawled at the thought of that man. He was older, and on the single occasion she’d met him when he’d come to London, his eyes had rarely traveled past her bosom. She’d locked her door and slid the dresser in front of it to keep him out.
According to his letter, he intended to return within the month. Only this time, he planned to live here—which meant she had to find another place. He might allow her to live upon one of the other estates, but she had to find a means to escape him.
A husband was the only way.
She was honest enough to know that her age and lack of beauty made it difficult. But it was her brother Brandon’s deeds that had earned him powerful enemies, particularly the Duke of Worthingstone. The man had all but destroyed them, by way of vengeance, after Brandon had arranged for the duchess to be kidnapped a few years ago.
It wasn’t fair. Her brother’s rash behavior had tainted her own name, though Sarah had done nothing wrong. She wanted to flee London and never look back, she lacked the funds to do so. She had to find a way to save herself, no matter what the means.
Sarah walked across the room to the single pane of glass overlooking the hazy London streets.I can’t do this alone.There was no one in their family whom she could turn to. She pressed her cheekto the cold glass, praying to a god who had never before answered her prayers.
Why would he start now?she thought bitterly.
If only there was a way to earn money on her own, she would be reliant upon no man. But she was the daughter of an earl, and no one would consider hiring her as a companion or a governess.
She had to find a way toward her own freedom, no matter what the cost. Being kind and ladylike had earned her nothing at all. Perhaps it was time to become ruthless, like Brandon.
A sudden idea crystallized within her mind. There was a secret she’d overheard a few months ago. A secret that she hadn’t been meant to overhear, one that would ruin the women involved.
A secret that surely was worth the price of her silence.
Chapter Two
