Chapter Four #2
She shrugged. “It wasn’t difficult. I simply wrote a note, pretending to be you, and I had my footman deliver it to the tailor.
I said he should use whatever measurements he already had.
They were quite willing to make them for you.
” She shot him a pointed look. “Somehow I rather thought you’d refuse, if I left it in your hands.
And if you are serious about finding a bride, you need to abandon your mourning attire. ”
Lord Castledon said nothing to that but inspected the contents of the package before handing it over to his footman. With a grimace, he said, “I suppose I should be grateful that you didn’t choose orange.”
Amelia decided that was his way of admitting the colors weren’t bad. She had selected dark blue, forest green, cream, and buff for the various waistcoats. “I could have ordered purple. But I am glad you were willing to try another color besides black.”
They were joined by her maid as they continued toward her father’s carriage, where Margaret had agreed to join them. Although it might seem that her sister was to be their chaperone, in reality, it was the reverse.
The early summer day was bright and the skies were a bold blue, unlike the dismal rainy days of April. Amelia leaned back, welcoming the sun on her face. “This is the sort of day that makes me want to take off my shoes and stockings and wade into the Serpentine.”
The earl looked uneasy at her statement. “Your family would be appalled.”
She knew it, and beamed at him. “Which is why it would be great fun.” When he sent her a sidelong look, she added, “Oh, don’t worry. I may be impulsive, but I’m not that foolish.”
“I wouldn’t put it past you.” But he offered her his arm and walked alongside her.
Amelia tried to ignore the strange rush at the feeling of her arm in his. Being this close to him shouldn’t be any different from walking alongside a brother. And yet, she couldn’t deny that her pulse had quickened, as if he made her nervous.
Which was silly. He was going to marry her sister, if she could manage it.
“I know you and Margaret will get on quite well,” she said. “She will make an excellent wife for you.”
“But would she make a good stepmother for Christine?” he countered. “That is far more important to me.”
“You make it sound as if you want a bride in name only.”
The earl’s shrug was not reassuring, as if a new marriage wasn’t at all important to him. But she felt certain that he could learn to love someone.
“Margaret is very sensible and would make a steady wife, one who would never get into trouble,” Amelia informed him. “She’d also take good care of your daughter. I know she wants children.”
And you need an heir, she thought.
The earl slowed his pace. “That may be. But does she want to marry, after what happened?”
“She does,” Amelia told him. “And I think you’re the sort of man she should have wed a long time ago. You seem kind enough, on the surface.”
He stopped walking. “You make it sound as if I’m a beast, hiding my true nature.”
She stood to regard him. Lord Castledon’s blue eyes were like a glacier, hiding every trace of emotion. “I don’t think you’re a beast. But I do think you’re hiding the man you are.”
He’d been stoic for so many years, practically a statue within the assemblies and balls. Sometimes she wondered why he’d even attended. Had he always been this way? Amelia struggled to remember if she’d ever seen him with his wife, so many years ago. She didn’t think so.
From his demeanor, others likely believed he was a dreadful bore. But the truth was, she’d found his dry wit quite entertaining. For years, when she’d been only sixteen, too young to dance or to be courted, he’d been the shadow behind her.
She wanted him to have a true marriage, not one made of words and no substance. One where he could be happy once more.
The earl was saved from answering when they reached the carriage. He helped Amelia into the landau and greeted Margaret. “Miss Andrews.”
“Lord Castledon, thank you for agreeing to accompany us. It was very kind of you.” Her sister was wearing a cream gown trimmed with lilac ribbon, and she moved over to make room for them.
“Amelia told me that you kept your wager, about choosing waistcoats in different colors,” Margaret ventured with an amused smile. “What colors did you select?”
“Your sister chose them,” he admitted. “Thankfully, she refrained from pink or purple.”
“This time, I did.” Amelia pasted a smile on her face and sat beside her sister, across from Lord Castledon. She decided it would be best to remain quiet for the rest of the drive, in the hopes that Margaret and the earl would find a topic about which to converse.
They did begin speaking about the weather, but it wasn’t at all interesting. She bit her lip and touched the earl’s foot with her own, hoping he would take the hint to help things along. Her kick resulted in the earl lightly stepping on her foot.
Lord Castledon continued talking with Margaret, and all the while, Amelia’s toes were trapped under his shoe. She glared at him, but the slight smile on his face revealed that he didn’t care at all. He was doing this on purpose.
“Did you need something, Miss Amelia?” the earl inquired.
“Yes. I should like my foot back, if it wouldn’t trouble you.”
“How careless of me,” Lord Castledon remarked, but the look he sent her was quite deliberate.
Her matchmaking efforts weren’t working at all.
The earl and Margaret might have been brother and sister to an onlooker, for there was an utter lack of romantic interest. Something had to be done, and Amelia decided he needed intervention.
“Lord Castledon, surely you know of a more interesting conversational topic than the weather?”
Margaret exchanged another amused look with Lord Castledon. “Actually, he is correct. To discuss anything else would be most improper.”
Oh, for the love of handkerchiefs. Her sister was not helping, and moreover, she didn’t appear to care.
“No one is interested in the weather,” Amelia insisted. “It’s a conversational topic used as a last measure, when you have nothing else to say.”
“Then what do you believe we should discuss?”
Amelia sighed. “Perhaps a good book you’ve read. Or places you’ve visited.”
“I don’t read,” Lord Castledon said. There was a spark of mischief in his blue eyes, and he added, “It’s too taxing upon my brain.”
He might as well have thrown down a gauntlet with the way he was mocking her. She knew very well that he could read. “Then what do you do with your time?”
“I stare at the wall.” His voice was monotone, and Amelia wished that she could throw something at him. He was deliberately fighting against her attempts to match him with her sister.
Margaret was biting her lip hard, to keep from laughing. “I do that sometimes, too. Especially when I’m trying to keep from murdering an interfering younger sister.”
It was clear that neither of them had any intention of allowing her to redirect the conversation. Amelia knew when it was time to admit 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.