Their Second Chance Season (A Season to Wed #3)
Chapter One
CHAPTER ONE
Mayfair, 1816
T he dilemma facing Amelia Washbrook on this otherwise uneventful morning was which slice of fruitcake to eat. Of those in front of her, the left was fatter, but the right was surely longer.
Before she could make her selection the door to her favourite sitting room burst open, bouncing on its hinges, the crash reverberating around the cosy space. As such occurrences were common whenever her youngest sibling wanted attention, Amelia didn’t take her eyes off the cake.
Sienna threw herself onto the sofa opposite in an action worthy of the stage. After a deep inhale, she announced, ‘James Ashworth is back in town.’
Amelia’s grip tightened on her tongs as a bolt of lightning whipped through her. She’d been half expecting to hear this news at some point. The war in France was finally over so of course those who had fought would be returning to London for the season. Ash may not have been in contact with her in the seven years of his absence, but she knew he’d not died. She’d thought she was prepared, and she was, but…
James Ashworth. It was a name she had not heard spoken in a long time and one she wished she had not thought of for just as long. For the most part, she was successful in forgetting the man she’d once thought she’d marry, but fragments of him sometimes came to her in dreams: the tiny crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he laughed; the warmth of his hand on her arm; the soft sound of her name spoken at some shared secret. Now he was back and she would no doubt see him entering or leaving his townhouse, only a few doors down from hers. Or she’d hear his name on other people’s lips and she would have to pretend that she didn’t know what it was like to feel his fingers brush the back of her hand.
She let out a slow breath and forced herself to loosen her hold on the tongs. Ash was no one to her now, and news of his return warranted no reaction. She would make it so. Instead, she turned her attention back to the cake. She settled on the longest slice—that one was probably the biggest. She transferred it to her china plate. The pale pink flowers that dotted the edge of it always made her happy and this was what this season was all about, enjoying life and all its pleasures—big and small.
‘Did you not hear me? Ash is back and there’s more…’ Sienna was practically vibrating with excitement at her announcement, and Amelia couldn’t bring herself to say that she didn’t want to hear anything else about him; just the knowledge he was back was enough for her today. All she wanted was to eat her cake and then spend the afternoon getting ready for tonight’s ball. She had the perfect dress and she was looking forward to wearing it. There was a thread of gold woven into the material and it sparkled when she turned in the light. It was beautiful and fun and something she had delighted in buying…
‘Ash is looking for a wife!’
Amelia’s stomach turned over as Sienna beamed at her, clearly thinking this was fantastic news for Amelia to hear.
‘Isn’t that perfect?’
Her younger sister was so pleased with herself. Sienna’s smile was so wide, it looked as if it might hurt. She was sweet and innocent; she reminded Amelia of herself at the same age, and Amelia was determined that her sister should not be so rudely disillusioned as herself, so she bit her tongue to stop her most immediate retort.
‘How lovely,’ she said, instead of all the other words she would like to say. ‘His mother will be very pleased to have him back safe and sound. The war has not been so kind to many other families.’
Amelia bit into her cake, its buttery richness exactly what she needed in this moment.
‘Yes, yes, I know this is wonderful for his family but isn’t it even better for you? Ash is home, Melia, and there is no horrid Marcus to stop the two of you from reacquainting.’ Sienna gasped, snapping upright, her skirts ruffling. ‘We should plan a shopping trip.’
‘Marcus wasn’t horrid,’ said Amelia, ignoring the comment about shopping trips. Ash was not someone with whom she would be interacting, and his reappearance on the scene did not necessitate a new wardrobe.
‘Melia, just because he’s dead, doesn’t mean we have to be nice about Marcus. He was mean to all of us.’
‘He provided a dowry for Rose and money for Will to finish his education. He’s left me a comfortable widow and now I can provide you with a handsome dowry. Therefore, to call him mean is unkind.’
Sienna pulled a face, too young to appreciate just how desperate their family situation had been when Marcus had rescued them. Yes, he had been strict and stern to her younger siblings, but without him they all would have had only a few pennies to rub together. She might not have loved Marcus, might have borne the brunt of his meanness, as Sienna would say, but she would be grateful to him forever for what he’d done for her family. It would do no good for Sienna to romanticise James Ashworth. He was a man who was not coming anywhere near her family again, no matter how romantic Sienna might deem their reunion. ‘Besides, it was not Marcus keeping Ash and me apart.’
‘But…’
‘I know you are too young to remember…’
‘I remember well enough,’ Sienna responded, pouting. ‘You were so giggly whenever Ash was around and I never heard you laugh once when you were married to Marcus.’
Amelia took another bite of her cake. It wasn’t true that she had never laughed at all during her marriage. Surely, she had found some amusement with her family, even if not with her husband. Marcus had not been prone to merriment but he had been dependable, and that was what she had needed at that time. She may not have loved him, and occasionally not even liked him, but she respected him and she would not deride him to her siblings. ‘I was giggly around Ash because I was a child when we were friends. Marcus and I were adults when we married.’
‘I bet you would laugh if you were wed to Ash like you were supposed to be.’
‘Ash and I were never engaged, so a wedding would never have taken place.’ As much as Amelia had thought they might marry, Ash had never proposed, so she could not really hold the fact that they had not married against him, although in her less reasonable moments, she did. He had made her no promises after all. ‘And I am never going to marry again.’
Sienna groaned, theatrically throwing herself backwards. ‘Why ever not?’
‘Because…’ How to tell her young, innocent sister that she had not enjoyed the physical side of marriage and did not want to be beholden to another man who would expect to spend time in the marriage bed with her. Amelia could not understand why any woman would want to endure such intimacy, and she had promised herself that she would never lie there waiting for the ordeal to be over ever again. Even after all that, there had been no baby to show for her efforts. She had mourned that a long time ago and knew there was no need to take a man to bed. None of this she could share. ‘Because there is much freedom in being a widow. I enjoy being in charge of my own home.’ That was true, too. The thought of having to do as she was told again held no appeal.
Sienna stuck out her bottom lip, looking far younger than her eighteen years. Amelia used her silence to finish her slice of cake. She would always maintain to her siblings that she and Ash had been too young to have a real understanding, that they had grown apart after he had signed up to fight Napoleon and that she had not been hurt by the ending of their relationship. This official version made no mention of breathless kisses, the whisper of fingertips on soft skin and the harsh, jagged edges of Amelia’s broken heart.
In the years since Ash had left, Amelia had seen him once, briefly. He’d treated her as if she were a mere acquaintance and not someone he’d once laughed with until tears had run down both their cheeks. So no, there would be no shopping trips, no excitement that he was back and no rekindling anything resembling a friendship. Instead, there would be music and parties and enjoying herself for the first time in a very, very long time. Using her fingers, rather than the more ladylike tongs, Amelia plucked up the second slice of cake. There was no reason she couldn’t have both; no reason at all.