Chapter 12
Blackthorn wasn’t immune to beauty.
Now that they were engaged, a sense of fierce possessiveness suddenly gripped him, surprising him. He watched Miss Knight depart with trepidation. He’d had his share of women here in England and abroad, but with her, he felt this unyielding conflict within him.
While she spoke of independence and having her own income, there was a feeling of vulnerability. Was he discerning more than was there?
One thing was certain, this woman aroused and vexed him, far more than he liked on so many levels. If he had his way, he’d swoop her up in his arms and take her to his bed, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He didn’t want to complicate this any more than she did. He meant to keep this transaction simple and get the hell of out London. Which meant he needed to settle the debt to Kendall.
After returning home, he did some more digging on Kendall. His informants went far and deep among the underground criminals of London, so when he discovered Andrew Kendall had grown up in the streets in Whitechapel until about age twelve, he wasn’t surprised. A man like Kendall knew how to manipulate his opponent and the weak to his advantage, no matter who he hurt.
It seemed Kendall had disappeared for a decade during his teen years. Blackthorn’s sources indicated Kendall may have gone abroad, maybe even selling stolen goods and pirating. When he’d returned, he’d bought a townhouse in Mayfair and married the daughter of a wealthy merchant before opening a private gambling hall that had expanded.
The money owed by Blackthorn’s father was legitimate, from what he’d been told by his sources. To stave off gossip and embarrassment, his father had asked Kendall to keep this quiet and give him time to pay off the debt. Kendall had agreed with twenty percent interest added to what was already owed, to which Blackthorn’s father had agreed.
Max had known about the debt, but before he could intervene, he had passed from a fever. Within a week, their father had suffered a heart attack and died instantly.
Their father had been a damn, bloody fool.
Upon returning home after the ball, Mrs. Pots informed Amelia that she would need a day to take care of some matters, to which Amelia happily agreed. Perhaps the woman realized that now that Amelia was engaged, Mrs. Pots had no power over her, as she would have to face Lord Blackthorn too.
Now, Amelia sat by the fireplace after her maid had helped her undress to retire for the evening. Her legs tucked underneath her night-rail, she watched the fire in the hearth and exhaled. She’d accomplished what she needed to tonight, she thought with a sense of pride and relief.
She felt very relieved, actually.
Now the only thing she needed to focus on was making certain her grandmother didn’t find out what she was up to. Which meant she needed to make certain Society believed that the engagement was the real thing and keep Mrs. Pots from snooping around.
Since last night, Mrs. Pots had been occupied. With what, Amelia wasn’t certain, but she welcomed it. She sighed in relief. With Lord Blackthorn’s help, she hoped she would hear some good news.
Lord Blackthorn, she thought, feeling the warmth of the fire burning hot. He had spoken of consummating the marriage, and of course she had told him exactly what she thought of that idea.
Secretly, she may indulge, but in reality, intimacy with him would be a grave mistake. Just being in his presence made her doubt herself and her secret longing that could never come to light. To stave off these illicit thoughts, she thought of his mistress yesterday.
Actually, if she was completely honest, Blackthorn and Zara made a flawless couple, she thought with a pang of jealousy. They were perfect for each other, and if he chose to take Zara to bed, then it was none of her affair. Better yet, she thought he should; that would surely put an end to her lustful thoughts of the man.
Would he go to Zara after the wedding and make love to her?
Why wouldn’t he?
Amelia had already informed him what he did with other women was not her concern as long as he was discreet. But she secretly could not deny the disappointment she would feel if he did bed another. She’d be very disappointed.
A quick knock alerted her, and she jumped in her seat. The door swung opened. It didn’t surprise her. When she had first come to live with her grandmother in Scotland, it had been difficult with Mrs. Pots relentlessly ordering her about. She’d had no privacy and if she did, it wasn’t for very long, as Mrs. Pots would find her hiding in a corner reading or scribbling in her journal. Now it was part of her world and she had learned to ignore her.
Mrs. Pots stood by the doorframe and observed her. More like a glare, but she was in a good mood tonight.
“I’ll be writing to your grandmother about tonight,” the woman said.
“Good,” Amelia said, as if what Mrs. Pots had said was nothing special. “You will save me the trouble of doing so myself.” She looked up at the older woman.
Mrs. Pots added, “And I will be addressing the concerns I have of your behavior as of late.”
Amelia glared at her. “What behavior?” she asked. “I chose the man she wanted me to marry. I am certain she will be more than happy with my choice.”
“It’s not what you did. It’s what you are not saying. I can feel it in my bones. You’re up to something.” Her chaperone watched Amelia carefully before she turned on her heel and left the room.
Oh, the dreadful woman.
Mrs. Pots footfalls slowly faded down the hall. From the day Amelia had arrived at her grandmother’s house, the woman had been hostile to her, as if she had the right to be so. No matter what she did or didn’t do, Mrs. Pots would find something to chide her or punish—
A shattering sound jerked her out of her thoughts, then a loud thud on the carpeted floor prompted her to stand. Her head whisked around to see a fist-size rock on the carpet. It had happened so fast that she just stood there staring at it, unable to move. Glancing at the shattered window with tiny pieces of broken glasses beneath it, she froze.
Heart pounding.
Then she saw something strange from the corner of her eye. There was a piece of paper secured to the rock by a black ribbon. Clearly, this was no accident. She looked at the window and waited to make certain nothing else was going to be tossed into her room. Then she heard quick footfalls above her where Mrs. Pots’ room was located.
Quickly retrieving the stone, she hid it behind her pillow. Within seconds, there was a quick knock. Kate slipped in quietly and looked at the broken window, then at the shattered glass on the carpet.
“Well, that explains the noise,” she said, walking up to the window, avoiding the shards of broken glass.
“Help me. I don’t want Mrs. Pots to find this.”
Quickly, both women picked up the glass one piece at a time and gathered it in the corner of the room where it was not visible from the door. When there was a knock at the door and it flung open, Amelia closed the curtains just in time.
Mrs. Pots glared at both woman suspiciously. “What troubles are you concocting in here?” she blurted out. “I heard noises.”
“Trouble?” Amelia said. “We were just conversing about the . . . um . . . engagement.”
Kate’s eyes widened, but she quickly nodded with excitement. “It’s going to be such a grand wedding,” Kate said, smiling widely.
Too wide.
“Why do I get the feeling you are hiding something from me?” Mrs. Pots said.
“All right. It was me,” Kate said, sighing. “Silly girl that I am. I could not maintain my exuberance and dropped my book that I had in my hand when she told me of the news.”
“Book?” Mrs. Pots said suspiciously. “I have never had the occasion to see you with a book.”
“Well, I have taken up reading and studying, if you must know. I quite enjoy it,” Kate said with a smirk.
Mrs. Pots narrowed her eyes, and Amelia’s heart thumped. If she chose to investigate and saw the shards of glass or opened the curtain, there was going to be explaining to do.
“What I heard wasn’t a thump.”
“All right,” Kate said, throwing her arms in the air as if exasperated. “If you insist on knowing the truth, I have an admirer. He’s quite angry at me for avoiding him, you see. He came here to try to get my attention and profess his love to me by throwing pebbles at my window. I guess the pebble was more like a small rock.” Kate opened the curtain to show her the shattered window.
Mrs. Pots eyed her suspiciously. “Why would he be throwing pebbles in this room?”
“Who knows what he may be thinking?” Kate said, frowning. “The man isn’t known for his intelligence, although I must say, his looks quite make up for that lack, if you know what I mean.”
“All right,” Mrs. Pots snapped. “Make sure the housekeeper takes care of that.” Then she gave them another suspicious look and left the room.
Both women exhaled.
“That was close,” Kate said. “What happened?”
Amelia walked over to her bed and lifted her pillow. Taking out the rock, she pulled the note loose from the ribbon. Both women took no time in unfolding the paper and reading it together: Do not attempt to look for Millie. This is your only warning.
The two women looked at each other.
Finally, Kate spoke. “What will you do?”