The Wedding Escape Read Free Page B

existence entirely on her own. Instead she merely wanted to exchange one keeper for another. He should have suspected as much, he told himself, suddenly annoyed at having become involved in her romantic escapade. Few women would flee from a life of extraordinary affluence and status unless they knew they were falling into a gilded nest of comparable luxury. The only woman he had ever known to do such a thing was Genevieve, and he had always understood that she was unique.
    â€œHis name is Percy Baring,” Amelia continued, her cheeks now flushed with excitement. “He is the fifth Viscount Philmore. No doubt you have heard of him?”
    â€œNo.”
    She blinked in astonishment. “You haven’t? How peculiar. Lord Philmore knows everyone in London, or so it seemed every time we met. He belongs to the Marbury Club, which is terribly exclusive, and was at all the important balls and parties of the season.”
    I’m sure he was,
Jack thought irritably. “I’m from Scotland, Miss Belford. I don’t go to London much.”
    â€œI see,” said Amelia. “I suppose that accounts for your accent, then. I couldn’t help but notice that it was different—but then, everyone sounds strange to me over here,” she quickly added, not wanting to offend him, “just as I know I sound strange to them. Lord Whitcliffe told me that I would have to work on that, once we were married. He said my accent was atrocious, and that he couldn’t have a duchess of his walking around sounding as if she didn’t know how to speak proper English.” Her pale brows twisted together in a frown. “He actually said that I butchered words. I thought that rather funny, because I always thought that it was he who was mispronouncing words, not me—but I never would have dreamed of saying anything to him about it, for fear of injuring his feelings.”
    The idea of old Whitcliffe having his feelings hurt by Miss Belford struck Jack as highly improbable. “Lord Philmore doesn’t mind your accent?”
    â€œHe finds it charming.”
    Of course he does,
Jack reflected wryly. With the potential of millions of pounds in dowry payments dangling over his head, Lord Philmore would undoubtedly claim to find everything about Miss Belford charming. After all, a viscount could not afford to be nearly as discriminating as a duke. “But a viscount wasn’t high enough on your parents’ ranking of aristocrats?” His voice was edged with contempt.
    â€œIt sounds awful when you put it like that,” Amelia acknowledged. “But it isn’t what you think. Both my mother and my father come from simple beginnings, and my father has worked his entire life to achieve his financial success. While he has been absorbed with his business, my mother has struggled to elevate our family’s place in society. Money doesn’t buy respectability, Mr. Kent, and there are many society gatherings in New York from which my parents are still excluded.”
    â€œAnd if you married a duke, that would change.”
    â€œI don’t think my mother is naive enough to believe that it would change how society looks at her and my father,” Amelia replied. “She is thinking about me and my brothers, and any children I might have. Marrying Lord Whitcliffe would have guaranteed their place in society.”
    â€œShe didn’t care that you wanted to marry someone else?”
    â€œShe thinks I’m too young to understand what will make me happy,” she explained. “When I told her about Percy, she forbade me to ever see him again or even to write to him to tell him that my parents had learned of our relationship. She denied that we were engaged, saying that since my father hadn’t given his permission, it was not a proper betrothal. I told her that we had sworn ourselves to each other, and that a union of the souls can never be separated.” Her blue eyes