As she enjoyed the sturdy warmth against her side, Amelia reassured herself that she now knew the truth. It had all been a terrible misunderstanding those many years ago; he’d loved her back then and would never have betrayed her.
Though he released Clara to walk beside them as they entered the party, Dorian placed his free hand over Amelia’s when she would have been content to manage on her own. He made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t ready to relinquish her; she didn’t argue and allowed herself to be escorted.
As they flitted through the assemblage, Amelia performed introductions and Dorian was as charming in social settings as she remembered. Having Clara in attendance, however, was a new experience for Amelia because she’d not yet been out in Society when she and Dorian had been betrothed. Clara was a beauty; there was no denying that. This fact drew a plethora of men to her, but it was her charm and wit that made them clamor to add their names to her dance card. Two dozen guests had been invited for a bit of country dancing, followed by a fullsupper spread. It was nowhere near the size or fussiness of a London dinner party, but it still afforded plenty of opportunities for mingling and flirtation.
“You must have your hands full with her,” Amelia whispered to Dorian, amused by his protectiveness and glowering countenance.
“I look forward to finally being able to relax when she’s married and some other man’s responsibility.”
“Do not pretend that you will not miss her terribly when that happens.”
“You are probably correct,” he conceded, then looked down at her with heart-stopping sincerity. “But then, I will have you, won’t I?”
Amelia swore her pulse froze; time thickened and slowed while he looked down at her. Before she could say anything, he nodded to the dance floor. “Clara is occupied; why don’t we join her?”
Without waiting for her to reply, Dorian swept Amelia to the floor, and they moved in time to the music. It felt so natural to be there, in his arms again, as the crowd looked on. Here, in Scotland, she doubted many knew of, and even fewer recalled, their former engagement. London would be another story; however, Amelia knew she could weather any gossip or nasty speculation so long as Dorian was by her side. She could endure innumerable vicious words, bolstered solely by the facts that he’d done it before and survived, and they would have one another to prop them up if they fell low.
Regrettably, Dorian was eventually forced to allow her to be stolen away by another partner. It would have been too scandalous to dance the night away together. She couldn’t deny the sensual thrill she experienced when she noted the dark promise glittering in his eyes. While she danced with other men, Dorian refused to invite another partner to the floor, settlinginstead for polite small talk while he kept a careful eye on each of his women. In between sets, he retrieved drinks for them, remaining the ever-attentive escort.
Clara fanned herself, glowing with enjoyment as she stood beside Amelia. Both their feet would ache the next day, but it would be worth it for the delightful evening they were enjoying.
“I am so pleased you came along.” Amelia grinned and squeezed Clara’s hand.
“As am I!”
“And you were correct. That shade of pink is very becoming on you.”
Clara beamed and spun in a quick, small circle to display the flattering cut of her gown.
As Clara finished, they were approached by their hostess, a short and delightfully plump woman with a marvelous smile. She was a distant cousin of James’s and had become a friend to Amelia. “What a handsome guest you’ve brought with you, Lady Coylton. And Lady Clara’s magnetic personality has certainly charmed all the young bucks in attendance. I must thank you for significantly improving my guest list.”
“Thank you for opening your home to us,” Clara said sincerely. “However, I must warn you that the only reason anyone finds my brother charming or attractive is because they do not know him that well; he is actually painfully boring.”
Their hostess laughed airily and—not knowing of Amelia’s history with the Marquess of Kempton—said, “Lady Coylton does not seem to find him boring in the slightest. In fact, it does not appear that she has been able to take her eyes off him all evening.” There wasn’t so much as a hint of malice in the words, but Amelia’s cheeks caught fire, nonetheless. Clara turned to her, and all she could do was stammer out nonsensical vowels.
Just then, all three ladies noted Dorian making his way back over to where they stood. Their hostess leaned in and addedbehind the veil of her fan, “It does not seem as if he’s able to keep his eyes off you, either.”
There was no time for Amelia to form a coherent response. Dorian’s long legs consumed the gap between them; he handed her another drink, and formal introductions were performed. Amelia tried to pay attention, really, she did, but it was difficult with him standing so close to her. He was so beautiful; his presence, so powerful.
“You appear a little overwhelmed,” he commented beneath his breath, making Amelia jump even though his tone had been low enough that Clara and their hostess hadn’t noticed as they carried on a conversation of their own. “Allow me to escort you outdoors for some air.” Despite Clara’s look in her direction, Amelia accepted, and they left Clara in the care of their hostess, who immediately shooed them away and promised to keep an eye on the girl.
They stepped from the house into a gravel courtyard. Infrequent torches ringed the space on the edge of a meticulously trimmed row of hedges positioned just before the tree line swallowed all indications of civilization, providing just enough light to see by, but leaving enough darkness for a quick, private meeting. It was into one of those shadows that Dorian ushered Amelia and asked if she was alright.
Finally, away from eyes watching their every move, Amelia felt some of the tightness leave her muscles. “I believe Clara has some suspicions about us.”
“And if she does?” He brushed it off with a shrug. “She is going to learn of it sooner or later. I suspect she will be quite pleased.”
“That we’re currently engaged in an illicit affair?”
Dorian stared at her in earnest. “That she will finally have you as a sister, Amelia. Haven’t I made that clear? I lost you once, and I never want that to happen again. I want you to finallybe my wife.” Amelia was stunned into silence, so Dorian took the opportunity to continue speaking. “This was not how I planned on offering for you—again.” He laughed incredulously. She could hardly believe it herself. “But, if the past few days have taught me anything, it is that we wasted too many years. I don’t want to waste another day.”
Dorian’s heart thuddedagainst his ribs as the words came pouring forth.
He loved her.
Even after all this time and the years of bad blood, he needed her in his life as much as he needed the air in his lungs.
He’d once loved her with youthful abandon. Now, he loved her for all that she’d become, and all she had yet to be. He needed to be beside her as they met that future together. He wanted no other mother for his children, no other woman for his life mate and bedmate.
