Wrapped in Red (Colors of Scandal, #4) Page 11

  “Anything to gain your notice, my love,” he quipped with a wink. But from him, the gesture was empty and invoked no reaction from her as it did when Cornelius gave her the same. “Where are you off to?” He raked his gaze up and down her person. “You’re dressed for the cold.”

  “Yes.” She brushed at a piece of lint on the front of her gray pelisse that was trimmed with scarlet braid work. “I’m going ice skating with Cornelius.” By sheer willpower, she fought off the urge to blush. “Would you like to come with me? You’ve ignored your guests enough, I think.”

  “I’d rather die.” Charles waved her off. “Why anyone would willingly offer themselves up to the elements eludes me.” He scooped up one of her gloved hands and brought it to his lips. “Perhaps I’ll spend time with you later.”

  “Very well. Enjoy your afternoon.” With a smile, she continued down the corridor.

  Ten minutes later, the clink of skate blades rang through the frosty afternoon air as they dangled from her hand by their leather ties. The marquess was right where he said he’d be, and they immediately set off walking through the sloping lawns toward the pond. “I must admit something to you,” she said, hesitating to break the congenial silence between her and Cornelius.

  “You secretly have admired me for years?” he joked, and when he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkled. Strands of gray glinted in his chestnut hair in the sunshine and gave him a distinguished air.

  “No.” Cheeky man. A fierce blush raged in her cheeks. Perhaps he would contribute her high color to the cold. “I haven’t ice skated for years.” She tightened her hold on his arm from where her hand rested in his crooked elbow. “Not even yesterday. I merely observed.”

  “To tell you the truth, neither have I.” The rumble of his laughter tickled her insides. “I’ve had my fair share of landing on my arse from various things that I didn’t fancy doing it from sliding about on the ice in front of my son.”

  She giggled. It was so easy to feel... happy while with him, even though the crux of her worry centered around him. Why was that? “Then we’ll be a fine pair. Good thing there aren’t any witnesses today.”

  “I won’t let you fall, Mia.” His eyes twinkled beneath the grim of his beaver felt top hat as he glanced at her.

  A queer little thrill went down her spine while her heart gave an answering squeeze. “About the other night—”

  “No need to say anything that would mar what we shared.” He pulled her closer to his side. She didn’t mind, for his form blocked the slight breeze. “I understood the sentiment behind our coming together. It was good for us both, I think.”

  “Yes.” Good in so many ways, and that confused her even more. Walking beside him now, with his arm solid and strong beneath her fingers, sent heat and want spiraling through her. Despair lay down that path, but she continued to trod it anyway; she couldn’t help herself, for she needed him like she needed to breathe. “I’m not one of those scandalous widows, nor am I after your title.” It was important he knew this, for it would cut her to the quick if he thought she was making a play for his wealth or anything else in the material realm.

  “I’m well aware of the woman you truly are, and what’s more, from everything you’ve told me, you only want peace in your life.” His smile was disarming and oh so threatening to that peace he spoke of. “Perhaps you wish for happiness, if fate is kind, but mostly you’re after rest and an abatement of the emotions you’ve dealt with for too long.”

  Amelia gawked at him in an unladylike fashion. “How could you possible discern that? I’ve been careful not to reveal too much about myself.”

  Except the sickness in her blood that he represented.

  “It was a skill I employed as a spy, this reading people.” As annoyance rose in her chest at him for treating her like a mark, Cornelius brought her to a halt at the pond’s edge. “Before you fly into the boughs, let me explain. It’s ingrained into me, but I shall make happiness and peace happen for you no matter what.” Though he smiled, worry clouded his eyes. “Perhaps it will be my Christmas gift to you.”

  That disarmed her and took away her quick ire. “Why would you do that?”

  “Old time’s sake?” He shrugged and snagged the blades from her hand. “You deserve every good thing in life, Mia. After all this time, you warrant a life of your choosing.”

  “Thank you.” She could barely force the words from her tight throat. Tears prickled the backs of her eyelids. “That’s sweet of you to say, but I fear I’m cursed.”

  “Then I will have to procure a good luck charm.” He encouraged her onto a large boulder and then knelt before her. “If you’ll allow me to attach the blades to your boots?”

  “Of course.” Her breath caught when he edged up her skirting and his hands cradled her foot and ankle briefly before affixing a blade to her first boot.

  “One of the best things about life is the future has no mistakes in it,” he murmured as he secured the second blade to her other boot. Then he did the same to his own. Once he’d struggled to his feet and balanced on the blades, he pulled her upright onto the ice. “That knowledge has long given me hope.”

  “What a wonderful way of looking at it. Thank you, Cornelius.” When she wobbled and attempted to find balance with the blades, a squeal escaped her. She only remained upright by clinging to his hands while he found his own footing. “Don’t let me fall.”

  “Never.” He reeled her closer to his body. “A few trips around the pond will see us experts, I’ll wager.”

  “At times, you are too optimistic. I envy you that.” Amelia hung onto his arm, but she moved her feet and glided over the ice without incident. “To see a light without knowing if it will remain there.”

  “It took me a long time to learn the trick. Eventually, living by faith, seeking to find hope instead of the sorrow changed the path my feet walked, despite the past.” He peered at her while guiding her over the ice. “That, above everything else, will show you how to find peace.”

  Teach me how. But she said nothing aloud. Instead, she gave herself over to his protective arm around her waist. Her worries felt lessened when he was near, as if he’d taken them from her figuratively in an effort to carry that burden for a while.

  A tiny piece of her heart flew into his keeping.

  As they maneuvered around the pond, crisscrossing it a few times, clouds moved through the sky to hide the sun. No doubt there was more snow in the offing, which would make Christmas on the morrow beautiful.

  “Your skills are improving,” he said but didn’t release his hold on her.

  “Thank you.” When they drifted to a stop in the middle of the pond, she looked up at him from beneath the brim of her bonnet. “And for this interlude. It’s nice not to feel constantly in demand.”

  “My pleasure.” Cornelius cupped her cheek, and she shivered from the delicious sensations his touch invoked. “I’m glad to spend my birthday with you.” His expression turned somber and ever so slowly he lowered his head, their lips nearly touching. “I never forgot you over the years, never forgot how we were together.”

  “Neither did I, and I—”

  The sharp crack of a gunshot rang out in the stillness, cutting off her words.

  “Bloody hell.” Cornelius yanked her to him. “We are defenseless out here in the open.” He glanced about the immediate area.

  “What should we do?” Amelia’s heart thumped frantically behind her ribcage. A second attempt on his life in as many days?

  “We’ll have to chance making it to shore.”

  Bang!

  Another shot echoed, and it was too difficult to discern from what direction the threat originated.

  “Christ.” He gasped and his whole body jerked. A bloom of scarlet appeared on his left shoulder. The force of the impact caused him to lose his balance, and he fell to the ice, taking her with him.

  Fear lodged in her throat. “You’re hurt.” The constant throb of her pulse made its presence known in her
fingertips.

  “Perhaps.”

  An ominous cracking sounded, echoed in her ears. It lanced through the fear that paralyzed her. “Cornelius?” She sent a frantic glance at him as he struggled to his knees.

  “Don’t move,” he warned, his eyes wide.

  “I won’t.” There was no time to do anything, for the ice beneath her shattered, first into big pieces and then with her next breath, those pieces broke into smaller ones. “Cornelius!” Terror propelled his name from her throat. Though she attempted to clamber to her feet, the rapidly expanding hole swallowed her. She sank into the frigid water of the pond.

  “Mia!”

  “Please don’t let me die.” Amelia grasped at the ragged edges of the ice. Bits and pieces came away in her fingers to expand the hole. The cold water sent shock quickly through her body, and she shook from it. “Help me,” she implored while frantically trying to find purchase.

  “Stop moving. It sounds counter-intuitive, but you’ll only break more ice and hinder rescue.” He yanked the blades from his boots and tossed them away.

  She nodded and shivered again. Her erratic heartbeat wouldn’t calm. “It’s so cold.”

  “Hang on.” Slowly, and with exaggerated and drawn-out movements, Cornelius flattened himself on the ice, belly downward. Then he extended an arm. “Grab onto me.” His voice rang with authority even as it exuded calm.

  “It’s hard to move. My arms and legs are frozen.” Her teeth chattered. Her brain refused to cooperate as the cold sank into her bones. She could die now and join Peter, her parents, the baby, and all the rest of the people she’d lost over the years—the homecoming she’d long ached for. It would be so easy to let go...

  “Damn it, Amelia, you must grab onto me.” Urgency riddled Cornelius’ voice and tugged her back into the present. “I can’t do this by myself.”

  “All right.” Her arms shook. It took all her strength to keep her upper body out of the water. She groped at his sleeve with one hand and forced her frozen fingers around his arm. “So... so cold.” It was difficult to form words; her lips had gone numb. As she struggled, her skirts twisted about her legs. The frigid temperature made her limbs heavy and slow. She faltered, her grip slipping down his arm. “I can’t...”

  “Bloody hell, Mia, I won’t lose you.” Command echoed in his voice. Intensity blazed in his stormy eyes. Snowflakes drifted lazily down to dot his shoulders and hair. Somewhere during the fall he’d lost his hat. He reached for her hand. “Don’t give up on me—on us.” Desperation echoed in his tone. A trace of terror clouded his eyes when she didn’t catch onto his hand.

  That truth in his emotion-graveled voice was enough to propel her into movement. With her remaining strength, Amelia grabbed onto his arm, first with one hand and then with the other. Her gloved fingers dug into the fabric of his sleeve.

  “As soon as your feet hit the ice, push with all your might.” He hauled her out as he slowly wriggled backward on his belly. His gaze never left hers. “Trust me, Mia. You’re going to be fine.”

  She nodded. A cry of pain escaped her when the ragged edge of the ice scraped her belly and hips. “Almost there.”

  “Gently, now.” He didn’t stop his deliberate movements, and as the toes of her boots came over the ice, he encouraged her to push.

  The blades helped as she dug them into the ice and propelled herself closer to him. Soon they were both slithering over the frozen water, putting distance between them and the hole until he deemed it safe.

  When the risk had passed, Cornelius fumbled with the ties of her skate blades, and when he struggled to his feet, he pulled her upright. “My God,” he whispered, staring at her, his eyes dark, his face haggard.

  “Cornelius...” Her teeth chattered. The slight breeze shredded through her wet self. Shivers racked her body. “Th... th... thank you.” Her lips refused to form any other words.

  “Shh. Don’t tax yourself.” He whipped off his greatcoat and swiftly bundled her into it, obliged to shove her arms into the sleeves when she couldn’t. “You need warmth and rest.” Concern wrinkled his brow.

  “Not yet.” She surged up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. Though those two pieces of flesh were cold, the strength behind them, the man himself, was what she needed, so she slipped her hands up his chest and locked them about his neck, and she kissed him until he opened his mouth and touched his tongue to hers.

  As always when she was with him, the fire inside consumed her. Again and again satin slid along silk as they dueled for mastery. His hands at her waist pulling her tighter to him confirmed everything she’d suspected. He wanted her as much as she did him.

  Yet she was so cold. Another shiver racked her body and broke the kiss.

  “I must get you home.” When she tried to protest, he picked her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing, wet skirts and all. Then he carried her off the ice and over the snow-covered path despite his limp and his cane that still rested against the boulder.

  Drat, drat, drat. Amelia sank into his embrace, snuggled into his warmth. His scent that clung to the coat wrapped around her. How it had happened, she didn’t know, but she could no longer deny it. It was hopeless; she was hopeless, for she was falling in love with him all over again.

  What do I do now?

  Eventually, Cornelius carried her through the kitchen entrance. His calls for the staff echoed in her ears. Without ceremony, he plopped her onto a hard, wooden chair and shoved them both in front of the blazing fire in the hearth.

  While the housekeeper and Cook fussed, bringing her quilts and mugs of broth and tea, he knelt at her feet, one gloved hand on her knee.

  “It wasn’t exactly how I wanted to celebrate my birthday, but I’m glad for the results.” Unnamed emotion choked his voice and reflected in his eyes.

  “Me too.” While shivering, Amelia grasped his hand with her free one. She kissed the back of it. “At least I’ll be able to dance with you this evening.”

  “Truly?” Hope etched into his expression.

  “Yes. If I’m able.” Then she fingered the hole in the left shoulder of his greatcoat where blood still seeped. “You’re hurt.” She glanced at his corresponding shoulder. Sure enough, there was a hole in his jacket. And he’d ignored that in order to carry her home... “Mr. Jessup! The marquess needs medical assistance.”

  He waved away the butler. “Take care of your mistress first.”

  Flutters moved through her belly. Oh, she wanted him, to have his arms around her, to show him how grateful she was they were both in the land of the living, but now wasn’t the time. So, she settled for holding his hand and staring into the fire.

  Cornelius, what have you done to me?

  Chapter Eleven

  Christmas Eve ball

  Cornelius struggled to overcome the urge to swoop into Amelia’s suite of rooms and make certain for himself that she was unharmed. A dunk into icy water was nothing to take lightly, but the event she’d planned had already started, and he remained glued to the floor while staring up the grand marble staircase, waiting for her to appear.

  The ball he’d taken earlier had resulted in a mere flesh wound, that, once cleaned, had quickly scabbed over. But the shot had troubled him more than he cared to admit. Who the devil had it out for him?

  “You have the look of a faithful puppy,” Charles drawled as he drifted into the foyer, a champagne flute in each hand. Several other guests meandered through the area on their way to the ballroom. Their happy, excited chatter filled the air.

  “That isn’t necessarily a bad thing.” Though he was no one’s puppy trained to heel upon command. He cast a glance at his best friend, attired in the requisite black evening clothes and white lawn shirt. His dark green waistcoat had deer embroidered in golden thread on it. “Shouldn’t you already be installed inside the ballroom? I’m sure Amelia wants you to circulate.”

  “All in good time.” He handed Cornelius a flute of champagne. The candlelight set his freshly combed hai
r to molten gold. “To settle your nerves. I heard about the drama from earlier. Are you well?”

  “Right as rain, but you know I can’t indulge now, especially if I want to later.” He tapped his cane against his knee. “Knowing I’d dance tonight I took a half measure of laudanum to dull the pain.” The medicine was a risky thing, and it was deuced easy to accidentally take too much, so he only used it sparingly.

  Charles snorted. “It’s not as if this bubbly French wine has enough power to make anyone tipsy. You can handle it. Besides,” he nudged Cornelius in the ribs with an elbow. “I suspect you’re tip over tail for Amelia. This will help with the anxiety, for I’ll wager your brain hasn’t caught up with the rest of you in this matter yet.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” But he did take a sip of the champagne. “It’s early days yet.”

  “Ah, then consider this me toasting you on your birthday.” Charles hefted his own flute. “Many happy returns, old chap.”

  “Thank you.” Cornelius returned the salute and they both took a deep drink. The puzzle of who wished him dead would need to wait until after the ball. Another glance up the staircase didn’t reveal Amelia. Where the devil was she?

  “Well, I’ll leave you to wait for my cousin. I do hope you’ll enjoy yourself tonight.” He winked and finished the remainder of his drink. “It should be an event to remember.”

  “I’m sure it will.” Cornelius tipped back the rest of his champagne and swallowed quickly as Charles move on. He then laid the empty flute on the carved newel post and once more glanced up the staircase.

  Finally, Amelia was there, pausing at the top, her gaze easily finding his. The noise and laughter drifting from the ballroom faded as she gave him a slow, lingering smile.

  He temporarily forgot how to breathe as she descended. Her gown of deep scarlet velvet shimmered with each step. Silver embroidery decorated a wide band at her waist. All over the skirt, tiny beads and silver sequins sparkled in the candlelight. Matching silver, heeled slippers peeked from beneath her hem and provided an enticing hint of delicate ankle with each movement. Diamond earbobs winked at her lobes. More of those gems glimmered on combs in her upswept hair. A sprig of holly and berries was pinned to her bodice.