Three Nights with a Scoundrel (Stud Club #3)(16)

“It only proves how much he adores you.”

Despite the duke’s terse, autocratic nature, Lily had suspected from the first he’d make Amelia a surprisingly tender husband. It would seem she’d been right.

“I am no specialist,” Lily said. “But to my untrained eye, you look the picture of robust health. Not only health, but true contentment.”

From her radiant complexion to her gently rounded belly, Amelia embodied domestic bliss. And despite herself, Lily knew a brief moment of envy. Perhaps this was the real reason she’d let her friendships with women fall by the wayside over the years. One by one, they’d all become wives, then mothers. Much as she’d loved Leo and valued her financial independence, Lily found it hard sometimes, not to want what they had, too.

“I do feel well,” Amelia replied modestly, lifting her own teacup. “No sickness anymore. I’m more fortunate than many women in my condition.”

They each sipped their tea.

After they lowered their cups, Lily looked to her friend expectantly, waiting for her cue to begin. A long moment passed. She threw an anxious glance toward the clock, growing increasingly concerned with every swing of the pendulum.

Lily cleared her throat. “Well.”

Amelia raised her eyebrows and gave a benign smile. “Yes?”

Had she forgotten Lily’s confession, or was she simply playing coy? Just when Lily was beginning to wonder whether she needed to start at the beginning again, recognition snapped in Amelia’s eyes.

“Oh, yes!” she said, setting down her teacup to frantically churn the air with her hands. “You told a lie, or several of them, and you desperately need my help.” She slid forward on her chair. “I’m so sorry dear, it’s an effect of breeding, it seems. Strong fingernails, weak memory. Please, tell me what I can do.”

Relieved, Lily said, “It’s Julian. He’s still obsessed with finding Leo’s killers, to the exclusion of all else. He wanders the streets at all hours of the night. He scarcely eats or sleeps. He’s neglected all his friendships, declines every invitation. He’s on course to join Leo in the grave, and I don’t know what to do. Perhaps it’s naïve, but I can’t help thinking … if only I could nudge him out into society, you know? Then perhaps he would return to his old, carefree self.”

Amelia nodded in encouragement. “Go on.”

“This morning, we … argued. In the end, I extracted a promise from him. He agreed to escort me to three social events. I gave him some flummery about wanting to enjoy life again and considering taking a husband, but in truth, I just want to keep Julian out of harm’s way. And I didn’t want to delay, so I told him the first event would be tonight.”

“I see,” said Amelia.

Not yet, she didn’t.

Lily bit her lip. “Here is the lie. I told him you and Spencer were hosting a dinner party.”

“A dinner party? Tonight?” Now Amelia looked to the clock. “Oh, dear. Already half two.”

Lily grabbed her friend’s hands. “I know it’s a tremendous imposition, and here you are in such a delicate state. But believe me—nothing less than the truest fear for Julian’s life would drive me to suggest it. It needn’t be anything too grand, and I’d help you however I could with supplies, kitchen staff …”

“Menus and servants are no problem. I have both in ample supply. But inviting guests, on this short notice …” The corner of Amelia’s mouth twisted. “And then there’s Spencer to contend with. He abhors parties of every sort.”

“Perhaps if you explain to him what’s at stake.”

“Tell him he must host a party to save Julian Bellamy’s hide?” Amelia shook her head. “Forgive me, but I don’t think that argument will work. There’s no love lost between Spencer and Mr. Bellamy.”

Lily’s heart sank. “Is there no way to convince him?”

“Oh, I have my ways of convincing Spencer.” Amelia’s brow made a flirtatious quirk. “But it’s not only him I must worry about, unfortunately.” Her demeanor grew serious, and she drew her chair closer to speak in confidence. “I’m sorry, Lily. I wish I could help you, I truly do. But there are more obstacles here than the late hour and my husband’s reluctance. This isn’t to be repeated, you understand.”

Lily nodded, encouraging her to continue. She focused intently on her friend’s lips. “Slowly, if you please.”

“We’re not alone here in Town. Do you recall last summer, when we were all at Briarbank and my—” Amelia’s head suddenly jerked, as though she were heeding a call from somewhere behind her.

Lily looked over Amelia’s shoulder. A young woman stood in the door. It was Claudia Dumarque, the Duke of Morland’s cousin and ward. Claudia was a rather strange girl—a fractious mix of rebellion and sensitivity—but Lily attributed the awkwardness to her age. She was fifteen, or at least she had been the past summer, when they’d all been together at Amelia’s family home in Gloucestershire. Perhaps the girl had turned sixteen by now. Regardless, she was very young.

And she was pregnant. Hugely so.

Lily’s mouth fell open in shock.

Claudia said something to Amelia as she moved into the room. The loose smocking of her dress billowed and stretched as she walked. Her time of delivery must be fast approaching.