A Taste of Desire(8)
After making his acquaintance with Missy, Harry said, “And this is my daughter, Amelia.” He urged her forward with a nudge to her elbow.
Missy performed a graceful curtsey. Thomas bowed, smiled broadly, and said, “Your father speaks most highly of you, Lady Amelia. I’m delighted to finally make your acquaintance.”
Lady Amelia treated his sister to a polite smile and then turned to look askance at her father. Harry flushed a crimson red. Like a queen addressing one of her lowly subjects, she turned her attention to Thomas. “Is that so? And I’ve heard you are considered, at best, a rake about town, and at worst, a debaucher of women and maiden sensibilities. I certainly hope you are not going to ply your trade here this evening.”
Thomas heard a sharply indrawn breath and a muffled giggle. He could only stare at the dark-haired beauty utterly stupefied while his brain ordered him to continue the life sustaining process of breathing.
The young debutante stared back at him, her manner supercilious, her visage placid and cold. However, he noted her eyes, the richest royal of all the blues, were replete with satisfaction. That she had enjoyed delivering him that particular set-down was evident.
“Amelia, you will apologize to Lord Armstrong at once.” Harry Bertram gave the order in the severest of tones.
She met Thomas’s gaze directly. “I do apologize, my lord, that you felt the need to lie to me. My father could never bring himself to speak highly of me, but perhaps that is something you were not aware of, making the lie you just told me quite innocuous. I, however, did not lie, and for that, I do apologize. As I have found, there are certain truths that should never be voiced in polite society.”
Missy gave a high-pitched squeak, and Harry made an audible sound in his throat. Thomas dared not move a muscle, for he feared, if he opened his mouth, he would surely annihilate the imperious harridan standing before him. That, or give her the sound thrashing she deserved.
“Father, I believe I have apologized. Are there any other gentlemen you wish to introduce me to?” Lady Amelia asked, her expression deadpan, her tone unruffled.
Harry sent a beseeching look heavenward as if he prayed for deliverance from his own child. Red-faced, he muttered an apology before ushering his daughter off.
As well as making him angry, the little wretch had made him feel every bit the fool, bringing to mind his association with yet another beautiful aristocratic female of a similar age.
At the age of twenty-one he’d been caught up in the euphoria of his first brush with love. But Lady Louisa Pendergrass—so named prior to her marriage to the Duke of Bedford—had cured him of it soon enough. She’d taught him of the treachery and deceitfulness of women, a lesson well learned and one he’d never forget.
Thomas forcibly pushed thoughts of her from his mind. Mistakes were better left in the past. And seven years was long in the past. Which left him to brood over Harry’s request and his own refusal.
“Sir, your coffee.”
Thomas’s head snapped to the direction of the door. He’d been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t heard Smith, his footman, arrive.
“Just place it on the desk and I’ll tend to it myself.”
With an alacrity that bespoke years of service, Smith did as he was instructed before quickly exiting to leave Thomas to his burgeoning feelings of guilt.
He owed Harry a debt of gratitude he could never repay. Thomas had been introduced to Harry at a society ball shortly after he finished his schooling at Cambridge. Harry had been a fountain of information concerning investment opportunities for the aristocracy. With his assistance, Thomas had restored and added immensely to his family’s empty coffers by turning a stable of racing and show horses into a profitable stud service operation. And Harry’s dealings with Derrick Wendel had prompted Thomas and his boyhood friends, Alex Cartwright and James Rutherford, to buy into what was now the largest ship building company in all of England.
Lord, if Harry had asked anything else of him, he would do it without hesitation. However, assuming responsibility for Lady Amelia was a different matter altogether. She was the kind of female any man in full possession of his faculties should avoid at all costs. So, until he somehow found himself tragically deficient of his and was carted off to Bedlam, that was precisely what he intended to do.
Chapter 3
Amelia brought her flowered, silk fan up to her face and began a gentle flutter. A sweep of her gaze revealed an elaborately decorated ballroom enclosed in a glass dome. Treated in blue and white, it had two massive crystal chandeliers soaring high above a crowd at least five hundred strong.