As reluctant as Amelia was to hear what he had to say, Thomas knew he had to have a serious word with her. Considering the developing relationship between them and his recent thoughts of marrying her, he was going to have to make her hear him out and then see where the truth would take them.

Arriving at the pleasure garden with his mother that Saturday, they approached the supper box where Amelia, Juliette and Lady Everly were keeping company with Mr. Lowell, Mr. Burton, Viscount Tibs and the Earl of Yates. Worst of all, Viscount Tibs’s head was dipped toward Amelia’s while he spoke, and she was looking very amused by whatever the hell the man was saying.

“Calm yourself,” his mother murmured before they drew within earshot of the group. “You look as though you’re prepared to go to war.”

“If there is one to be fought, Mama, then I am ready for it.”

His mother chuckled, and then they were suddenly greeting the others and finding places to sit. Lady Everly, who’d risen when they’d arrived, waved them into the spot she’d vacated, denying Thomas the chance to sit beside Amelia. Annoying woman.

“You look lovely tonight, ladies,” Thomas said, glancing at each of the women in turn. He allowed his eyes to linger a second longer on Amelia, but she failed to meet his gaze when she thanked him for the compliment.

“We are fortunate to be in their dazzling company,” Mr. Lowell said, his eyes on Amelia as he spoke. She blushed in response to the compliment, which made Thomas feel like punching the man.

Christ!

The woman had turned his head.

His chest tightened against a deep inhalation of breath. He did his best to calm himself. She was exceptional, her beauty and character more enticing than any other. And he . . . God . . . the way he felt about her. He’d be damned if he could put it into words, but he knew he ached to be close to her, to hold her in his arms and to bask in her vitality.

Sweetmeats arrived, but he wasn’t hungry. At least not for food. Amelia leaned across Tibs to say something to her sister, and Thomas almost leaped from his seat when he saw the man’s eyes fill with pleasure. Only his mother’s staying hand kept him from acting irrationally.

“I have been taking a look at the bill you proposed,” Yates remarked. He popped a piece of sweetmeat into his mouth.

Thomas shifted his gaze to meet the earl’s. “Thank you, but it does not appear as though it will be accepted. So perhaps we ought to discuss something else since such a topic is unlikely to interest the ladies.” A discreet reminder that politics was not to be discussed in polite society.

“On the contrary, I find myself intrigued,” Lady Juliette said.

“It is a tiresome matter,” Thomas stated.

“Are you saying we lack the patience or skill to comprehend it?” Amelia asked.

His mother tried to hide a snort, and he knew right away he’d lost the fight. “No. Of course not.” What else could he say when all eyes were now trained on him? He glanced at Amelia, who’d finally decided to give him her full attention. Well then . . . “I was trying to change the law of inheritance.”

Tibs barked with laughter, then grew immediately still when he saw that nobody else was laughing. “You are serious?”

“There are no assurances for illegitimate children. Many end up discarded by their fathers, and that is wrong. Men need to be held accountable. They have to know that they cannot simply go around begetting children without consequence.”

“You sound rather passionate about it,” Mr. Burton commented.

“He has a bastard of his own,” Yates murmured.

The comment, as matter-of-factly as it was spoken and without the slightest hint of malice, still felt like a sharp stab to Thomas’s chest. He clenched his jaw and stared back at Yates. “I would be much obliged if you did not speak of him like that.”

“My apologies, if I offended you,” Yates said. “I actually consider your bill rather progressive, if you must know.”

“What about the part concerning the titles?” Thomas asked, curious now to hear his opinion.

“Well, as long as it is up to the individual, I—”

“Wait,” Tibs interrupted. “What are you proposing with the titles?”

“That a peer may choose to let his illegitimate son inherit it,” Thomas replied.

A stunned silence settled over the group for a second, and then Amelia said, “I think that—”

“Ludicrous?” Tibs suggested.

“It certainly sounds like an uphill battle,” Mr. Lowell remarked.

“I was going to say that I find it an admirable endeavor.” Amelia lowered her lashes and snatched up a piece of sweetmeat before adding softly, “I wish you the best of luck with it, Your Grace. There are no better causes than those that favor children.”

“And on that note,” Lady Everly said, effectively ending the conversation, “I would like to recommend a walk so we may enjoy the Cascade when it begins.”

The group left the supper box and Thomas immediately went to Amelia, offering her his arm before anyone else had a chance to do so. She accepted, but not without him noting her hesitation.

“We need to talk,” he told her plainly. They took the lead and began heading along the walk that would take them to one of Vauxhall’s main attractions. He’d seen the Cascade several times before and was sure Amelia would find it intriguing.

“About what?”

He drew her a little bit closer. “Us.”

Gasping, she turned to him with a start. “I don’t—”

“Are the lights not magnificent?” Yates asked as he and Juliette drew up alongside them. “How many do you suppose there might be?”

“Thousands, I should think,” Mr. Lowell said from directly behind Amelia. He and Tibs were escorting Lady Everly together with Mr. Burton.

“It certainly is a magical display,” Juliette whispered. “I never thought to see anything like it.”

“It reminds me of the Arabian Nights,” Yates said. “Have you read it?”

“No, I have not had the pleasure.”

Slowing his pace, Thomas allowed Yates and Juliette to move ahead so they could continue their conversation in private. “I do believe your sister has found an admirer.”

“Perhaps.” She let him draw her to the side so they didn’t hold the others back. “But I sense that her interest lies elsewhere.”

“Oh?”

“I won’t say with whom yet, for I am not completely sure.”

“Come,” Lady Everly said, passing them with Tibs and Burton, “I can see the crowd gathering. If we do not hurry, you will not be able to see a thing, and that would be a pity since this is bound to be unlike anything you have ever witnessed before.”

Approaching the Cascade, Thomas deliberately slowed his pace even further and glanced around. They had reached the periphery of the crowd, but when Amelia moved to follow Lady Everly through it, he held her back.

“No,” he told her plainly.

Her eyes rose toward his, and he saw then the tragic despair she was trying to hide. “Let me go, Thomas.” His given name, spoken like a plea almost brought him to his knees.

“Amelia—”

“Stop.” She tugged on her arm, but he wouldn’t release her. “Please,” she begged.

He shook his head and drew her back, away from the crowd and toward a copse of trees shrouded in darkness. “You will listen to what I have to say, damn it, and you will do so now.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” She was heartbroken, embarrassed and furious all at the same time, and the bloody man who’d stirred all these feelings in her would not allow a reprieve.

“Giving you the knowledge you need in order to make an informed decision,” he retorted, steering her between the trees until they found themselves at a safe distance from all sound.

Confused, she stared at his dark silhouette and quietly asked, “What does that mean?”

He drew a deep breath. “We need to address the attraction between us, and I need to tell you the absolute truth about Jeremy.”

“Please don’t.” She had no desire to listen to one more word. Not when it would involve the greatest love of his life.

“Amelia—”

“Damn it, Thomas!” She hadn’t meant to become overwrought, but he was pushing her fragile emotions to the limit. “I know you had a mistress whom you loved beyond all reason. I know it broke your heart when she died giving birth to Jeremy, and I know I will never be as important to you as she was, so then what is the point here? What do you want from me?”

Silence fell and for a long moment, there was nothing but their breathing—hollow and deep like they’d both run a mile.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low and ragged. “Do you have any idea what such words do to me?”

His change of tone unbalanced her. There was something about it that heated her skin and made her think of decadent pleasure and warm caresses. But it was fantasy of course. This was the Duke of Coventry, a man who’d made his lack of interest in heading down that particular road explicitly clear. And yet he took a step closer, and his hand was suddenly on her arm, his fingers trailing a long delicious path up over her shoulder, across the sweep of her collarbones and toward the opposite side of her neck.

“Please don’t do this.” She would die if she let him continue. Her heart would simply shatter. Because this could never be and the pain of that . . . oh God . . . “Please stop.”

His hand stilled against her cheek. “What if I told you there is no mistress, no ghost for you to measure up to, no long lost love—no memories shared with another woman more important than you?”

Her heart stopped beating. Or that was how it felt. And in that moment, Amelia would have given everything in the world in order to see his face and to know if what he said was true.

“Explain yourself.”

His hand fell away, and a brief pause followed. She fought the urge to beat the answer out of him, holding herself completely still and under remarkable control.

“Jeremy isn’t my son, Amelia. He is my sister’s boy.”

Her lips parted, and she spoke on a breath of air. “What?”

“Melanie was seduced. When she died in childbirth, I swore to protect Jeremy as if he were my own.”

“The illegitimate son of a duke is less scandalous than the son of an unmarried lady and a . . .” She blinked. “Who is Jeremy’s father?”

The air seemed to shift around them, and when Thomas spoke again, his voice was tight. “An undeserving cad who denounced them both.”

“A gentleman?”

“A young man with a title, but hardly a gentleman.” A breeze disturbed the leaves around them, and Amelia instinctively shivered when Thomas said, “It was Fielding’s younger brother.”

The memory of words spoken by Raphe flew to the front of Amelia’s mind. She drew a sharp breath. “And Fielding did nothing, did he? That is why you dislike him so much.”

“He discovered the affair, which took place at one of my estates during a house party. Desperate to cover it up and avoid the scandal of a hasty wedding, Fielding helped his brother quit the country before I found out about it.”

“And once his brother returned?”

“He remains in exile, though I might still seek retribution if I choose to do so. But since the matter is best forgotten, I have decided against such a course of action.”

And with that knowledge, and the rest of what he’d just told her, came the greatest amount of respect she’d ever had for another person. Thomas had risked scandal, sacrificing his own future and denying himself the revenge he no doubt longed to execute, all to protect his sister and nephew.

“The point is,” he added, and she felt his hand on her wrist this time, “I have spent the past five years telling myself I cannot marry, that I do not have room for a wife and that I must face my responsibilities alone. But perhaps I am wrong.” His fingers moved to her waist, and he was suddenly pulling her to him. “Perhaps Jeremy needs a mother.”

Her breath caught. “What are you saying?”

His other hand reached up to cup her chin, his thumb gently stroking along her jaw and producing a spark of tender warmth that slid all the way to her toes. “I have seen you with him, Amelia, and he has never looked so happy before, not to mention your genuine concern for children in general and your positive outlook on life. There is no doubt in my mind that Jeremy would benefit greatly from your continued presence and . . .” He fell silent, muttered an oath and finally said, “I am not proposing—at least not until we are both completely certain that marriage would work—but I am telling you what my intentions are.”

“And what exactly would they be?” she asked. Holding her breath, she waited for him to respond.

He blew out a breath. “I would like you to give me a chance to court you.”

Thrilled by the prospect, she would not ruin the moment by asking him how he felt about her. The fact that he trusted her with Jeremy’s care and upbringing was proof enough of his high regard. And perhaps . . . at least now there was more hope than there had been before that he might one day feel as deeply for her as she felt for him. The answer was simple. “When would you like to begin?”

“Right now.” His hand swept to the back of her head, and he was suddenly pulling her to him. His mouth met hers in a simple caress that almost brought tears to her eyes as a lifetime of yearning welled up inside her—the longing to be held and cared for so acute she could scarcely bear it.

Her arms went around his neck, and she pressed herself to him, arching against his chest for closer contact while his hand at her waist moved toward her back, flattening over her spine. “Amelia.” Her name whispering across her cheek as he kissed his way toward her neck left sizzling embers in its wake.

“Yes.” Her fingers tunneled through his hair. She would take advantage of this chance to touch him without apology. This was what she’d dreamed of, this casting aside of rules and strictures. His mouth pressed against the edge of her jaw, teeth scraping the tender skin in a predatory way that sent pleasure bursting through her. “Thomas . . .”

His mouth found hers once more, silencing her in an open offering, ridding her mind of all thought. She could only feel, his firm body pressing into her softness, his hands sliding over her in exquisite exploration, and his kiss . . . Deep. Hot. Demanding. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before—more primal than their previous one—an elemental claiming of sorts. And it threatened to drive her mad with unexpected need.

So she clung to his shoulders, fearing her legs might suddenly fail to carry her weight. It seemed entirely possible given the weakened state she was presently in, drugged by the taste and scent of the man she loved, unable to fathom how keenly he was ravishing her; as though she were some rich elixir he would never get enough of. It felt so wonderfully right, so utterly thrilling and perfect—a melding of souls so divine it threatened to make her weep.

And it was over much too soon for her liking, his voice sighing her name as he eased her back. She felt his breath against her face, heavy and rapid.

“Dear God,” he murmured, his lips caressing her cheek. “If you only knew what you do to me, Amelia.”

“I wager it can’t be much different than what you do to me,” she whispered, her voice casting a web across the darkness.

He held her still, and she felt his lips trail a path toward her neck and the rough vibrations of a growl in response to her words. Pulling her to him once more, he buried his face in the curve of her shoulder and carefully bit her flesh. She gasped in response, both surprised and allured by his primitive method of branding. And as heat rushed through her, straight from the point of contact and all the way down to her toes, she wished they were somewhere else—somewhere private.

If only . . .

As if sensing her concern, he drew back once more, this time with greater deliberation. “It is time for us to get back to the others before they become aware of our absence.”

All he’d offered was a courtship with the possibility of marriage. No guarantees until he was certain. To be found like this—to have his hand forced . . . She was suddenly eager for them to return to the others and ensure that all was well and that their absence had gone unnoticed.

So she followed him out from between the trees to the dimly lit walkway where the crowd still watched the Cascade. They’d made it back in time. She breathed a sigh of relief, which was swiftly snatched away at the sight of Lady Everly. She was bearing down on them with a disapproving glower that could have chilled an iceberg. The rest of their group followed in her wake, all with wide-eyed incredulity.

“What on earth were you two doing between those trees just now?” the dowager countess hissed, coming to a halt before them. Everyone else remained a respectable distance behind, except for Thomas’s mother, who wore a look of distinct disappointment.

“We—”

“Never mind,” Lady Everly snapped, silencing Thomas’s reply. “I do not want to know, but I expect you to call on me first thing in the morning, Your Grace.” She took a step toward him, her voice lowering even more. “And when you do, I suggest you have an offer in mind.”

“You need not worry,” Thomas told her crisply. He gave Amelia’s hand a quick squeeze before releasing it. “I have every intention of doing the honorable thing.”

Amelia’s heart crumpled. There was no warmth in his voice, no talk of his affection for her. In the blink of an eye she’d become an obligation rather than a choice. Pressing her lips together, she squared her shoulders and raised her chin. “I would like to leave now.” Away from all the censorious stares. Away from him.

They parted without pleasantries or smiles, and as Amelia sat silently in the carriage that would take her back to Huntley House, she felt sorrow’s heavy embrace, reminding her that she was doomed.

“What were you thinking?” Thomas’s mother asked when they entered their parlor later, breaking the silence that had accompanied them all the way home.

He ran his fingers through his hair. “I made a mistake, Mama.”

“That goes without saying.”

He dropped onto the sofa, and after a moment she went to sit beside him. “Did you see Lady Amelia’s face? She looked like a trapped animal.”

Guilt filled his lungs, making it hard to breathe. “It is my fault. She heard the rumor about me having a mistress, and I wanted to dispel it. I wanted to let her know that I wasn’t pining away for some long-lost love, but that I—” He passed the palm of his hand across his face and sighed. “It no longer matters. I have backed both of us into a corner, tainting our future with doubt. She will always wonder if the only reason I married her was because I had no other choice but to do so.”

“Isn’t it?”

He met his mother’s knowing gaze. “Of course not. I would have married her eventually for countless other reasons. You know that.”

“Then I suggest you tell her as much.” She rose and went to the door. “I am going to retire now, but just so you know, I believe this will all work out well for both of you in the end. Especially if you take a moment to consider how you truly feel about her.”

How did he feel?

The question lingered long after his mother had left the room. He definitely liked her. A lot. Which he decided was a good start. And he really enjoyed kissing her. The chemistry between them was extraordinary. No need to worry about that. He was also deeply touched by her ready acceptance of Jeremy and of the complicated nature of his birthright. She would make an excellent parent, and she would keep Jeremy’s secret safe. He felt it in his bones. But was there anything else? A stronger attachment that surpassed all else? He simply wasn’t sure.

You think of her when you’re not with her.

You worry for her safety.

Her opinion matters to you.

But did that mean he loved her? Shaking his head, he headed up to bed, hoping the morning would bring enlightenment with it.

It did not. If anything, it brought only more questions and feelings of uncertainty. Not that he ever questioned doing the right thing. What he did question, however, was the impact a hasty marriage would have on his relationship with Amelia. And this was without considering how Huntley might react once he returned. Bloody hell, what a mess he’d made.

“I trust you have given this matter some serious thought,” Lady Everly said when she met him in the Huntley House drawing room later.

“Of course.” He gave her a steady look. “I have every intention of doing my duty.”

“How romantic of you,” she murmured. When he didn’t respond, she puffed out a breath. “I fear you may find Amelia quite stubborn, however. When we parted last night, she did not seem amicable to the idea of marriage.”

“She feels trapped.” But that wasn’t all. “And she feels as though she has trapped me.”

“Is that how you feel?”

“No. Not at all.” He thought of everything that had happened within the last twelve hours. “It was not supposed to go this way. All I meant last night was to talk to her.”

“Alone? In the dark?” She shook her head. “Do not pretend you were not aware of the risk.” She gave him a frank stare. “Or that all you did was talk.”

He turned away from her, chastised by her gaze. “You are correct, of course. I know that. And now it is time for me to make things right. If you will permit, I would like to take her out for an hour or so.”

“I doubt she will agree to it.”

“Just tell her I intend to visit her property so we can have a look at the progress.” That ought to convince her to share his company.

“Very well,” Lady Everly agreed. “But only if you take a chaperone with you. After all that has happened recently, I fear I cannot trust you to be alone with her.”

Accepting the reprimand that was his due, Thomas dipped his head in acquiescence and then waited while Lady Everly went to speak with Amelia.