Oh heavens.
And she dropped into a deep curtsey.
“Your Royal Highness,” she spluttered, now staring at the Prince Regent’s sizeable stockinged knees. “I…”
“Up. Up.” He wafted a beringed hand. “I want to see the petticoat this scandalous fellow has captured. Introduce me, Cadwalader, won’t you?”
Hugh arosefrom his profound bow and assisted his beloved with hand outstretched.
Sir Edmund had mentioned he’d sent an invitation to the Prince Regent but Hugh really hadn’t thought…
“Your Royal Highness, may I present Miss Amelia Lambert.”
The Prince Regent removed his quizzing glass and inspected Hugh’s betrothed from slippers to bosom – lingering thererather too long for Hugh’s liking – then from bosom to butterfly hairpins.
“Well, well, what a beauty. Good effort, Cadwalader,” he pronounced as though Hugh had caught her in a net.
Amelia demurely smiled.
The Prince Regent beamed. “Sir Edmund and I met in our salad days, you see, and I’ve been informed of your recent…fine work.” He leaned low. “Well done.” And a protuberant eye winked.
“Thank you, Your Royal Highness.”
He nodded. “D’you know I met your mother once, Miss Lambert. A beautiful woman who took pity on a younger me when others were mocking, and I never forgot that kindness.” He tapped his extensive stomach, lifted his head and surveyed the onlookers. “I will look forward,” he said in a most strident manner, “to seeing you, Miss Lambert, on our London scene. Now, Twyford, fill up my glass, if you would, and then I’m afraid I must leave you all for Madame Luridesque’s masquerade.”
Hugh bowed once more, Amelia held a low curtsey, and with another satisfied nod, the Prince Regent lumbered off.
Whispers rose to murmurs, murmurs to babble, as debutantes gossiped behind fans and society matrons collapsed into chairs lining the wall.
“Did I dream it,” whispered Amelia, “or did the Prince Regent just give me his seal of approval?”
“Not that you need it, my beautiful Amelia.” Hugh seized his beloved around the waist. “For I love you just as you are. For all that you are.”
“Odds boddikins!” Aunt Enid’s hands were clasped to her purple bosom, a tear rolling down her cheek. “That all worked so splendidly!”
And at her side, a blackbird of paradise hopped from foot to foot.
“Phoebe, you’re here!” Amelia broke Hugh’s hold to hug her hard.
“Of course! I wouldn’t have missed it for all the black silk in France,” she gushed, eyes a luminous obsidian. “Although I’m only allowed to stay for an hour. I shouldn’t even really be here. And no dancing. Or drinking ratafia. And I have to stay beside Lady Kemble now. In fact, you haven’t seen me.”
“I cannot believe I didn’t realise what you were all up to.”
“Our hoodwinking was a success, Uncle!”
They were joined by Sir Edmund with his wife, and Lord Rainham who bussed his beloved’s cheek and clapped Hugh on the back.
Amelia turned to him, amber eyes aflame, and Hugh could do naught but reach for her hand once more, his betrothed and the one woman who knew him.
All of him.
Awash with joy,Amelia felt breathless. Hugh at her side, his hand steadfast in hers.
She caught Lady Twyford’s eye who winked and Amelia smiled in return. No longer would either of them allow anyone to make them feel…less.
Tonight, Amelia was no one but herself.
“Congratulations!”
