The Rake of Glendir Read Free Page A

The maid’s voice cut through her thoughts as she bustled in and began to brush and plait Amelia’s abundance of honey-blonde hair.
    ‘Yes, thank you, Sally,’ she replied, closing her eyes as the tugging at her hair caused her scalp to tingle pleasantly. She only had vague memories of her mother, but she did remember having her hair brushed and plaited by her, and now always found the sensation comforting.
    Thinking of her mother made her think of her father, banishing her unexpected good mood. Of course he had been adamant Amelia accept Horatio’s proposal—what father of a young and attractive unmarried girl wouldn’t be? She knew her father only wanted the best for her, and to his mind that would be marriage to a wealthy and well-connected man. Yet Amelia had not expected her father to insist even after her repeated refusals, or, when Horatio had made unwanted advances on her after the soirée her aunt had thrown, to intimate to his daughter that perhaps she should have accepted them.
    Although he had always been an authoritarian man who displayed little affection for his daughter, she had never expected him to try to force her into a liaison she didn’t want. She suspected his insistence that she marry Horatio had a great deal to do with his recent financial difficulties, and wondered if her father had got himself into deeper water than he cared to tell her. Even so, his betrayal had upset her enough to send her bolting to Trevan. Quite why Lord Winters was so insistent that Amelia be his bride was the one thing she couldn’t fathom. She was pretty enough, she knew, but there was no shortage of other attractive girls in London who, unlike Amelia showed no reluctance to marry him. Although she had grown up expecting to make a good marriage, she wanted it to be with the right man. The wrong sort of husband would constrain or even control her, and she knew that would plunge her into misery. Just as her mother had been with her father, or so Aunt Matilda had insinuated in her infrequent letters.
    Lord Winters would, she would stake her life on it, be exactly the wrong sort of husband. He seemed a cruel, cold sort of man that made her skin crawl, and she had heard rumours about him that suggested he was both a bully and possibly even dangerous. Lord Glendir now, she could not imagine as a husband at all. He was a complete rogue, certainly the sort of man she should keep well away from, and yet Amelia couldn’t prevent the pleasant warmth the memory of his touch ignited in her belly.
    Amelia took her breakfast in her rooms and busied herself writing her letter to Madeleine, briefly explaining her predicament. She was sure Madeleine would be able to help and even provide letters of reference so that she could secure herself a role as companion or chaperone. It wasn’t the future she had envisaged for herself, but at least she would have her independence, and the money from the sale of Trevan would be enough for her to secure lodgings, perhaps even a small cottage. That sounded infinitely preferable to being trapped into a loveless marriage with a man she despised. Having written her letter, Amelia decided to have the coachman take her into town with Sally to post it herself when the housekeeper approached her with a card in her hand.
    ‘From Lord Glendir, my lady. He requests your presence later for dinner.’
    Amelia frowned even as her heart leaped. She had not expected his dinner invitation to be a genuine one. Where on earth was she supposed to find a chaperone at such short notice? She could barely go alone, and taking Sally would be most unsuitable. Any respectable young lady would be affronted, she knew. But being a respectable young lady hadn’t worked very well for her so far, and it was not as if she had to see any of these people again. Including Lord Glendir, she thought with a pang, doubting indeed that she would ever meet anyone quite like him again., She may as well enjoy her freedom from Society’s