An Unexpected Earl (Lords of the Armory #2) - Anna Harrington Page 0,35
patiently put down her quill and closed the ledger. “You might have to wait until the next session before the act can be passed, but whoever is forcing you to make these appointments knows it, too. The blackmailer will give you the time you need to put forward the bill next session.”
He slowed in his pacing, only to shoot her an aggravated grimace.
“Pearce will be less likely to decline because he’ll have the chance to think it through thoroughly.” And then decline it.
Frederick faced her. “Do you truly think Sandhurst will be persuaded?”
“I believe so.” Persuaded to decline. She wasn’t certain at all, but every ounce of her soul prayed for exactly that.
She stood and crossed to the worktable, where she fussed with several yards of cream-colored silk that the women who worked in her shop had hand-printed with wooden blocks and paint, the way the silk weaver in Spitalfields had taught them to do. They’d picked up the skill quickly, creating lengths of beautiful silk that could be used for all kinds of projects—wallpaper, pillows, bedding… Amelia could barely keep the fabrics in stock because the society ladies who shopped at the Bouquet Boutique snatched them up as fast as they could be produced. This one of a red damask rose was particularly exquisite and—
“I want you to charm him.”
The fabric slipped through her surprised fingers and piled on the table. “Pardon?”
“Sandhurst. You and he were once quite fond of each other, as I remember.”
Guilt pinched her stomach. Oh, that was a lovely way of stating that they’d behaved scandalously and gotten caught!
But Frederick had been away at school the night when Papa caught Pearce in her bedroom, and she would have sworn that Papa wouldn’t have told him for fear that her brother would have revealed it to his cronies during some drunken rout. No, he must have figured out on his own how much she and Pearce had once meant to each other. Dear heavens, had they been that obvious?
She leveled her gaze on him. “What, exactly, are you asking of me?”
“Oh, don’t pretend naivete with me.” He cut her an accusing glare. “Surely, he still has an attraction for you. After all, beneath the uniform and finery, he’s still just a former tavern rat.”
“Frederick!” How dare he! To insult Pearce like that—
“Use your feminine charms, Amelia! Men like Pearce fall for that sort of nonsense all the time.” When her eyes narrowed to slits, he added, “You don’t have to let him do anything untoward, of course.”
“Well, thank goodness,” she drawled sarcastically, so furious that her hands trembled as she picked up the cloth and shook it out. “Someone more mistrusting might think you wanted me to compromise myself.”
He placed his hands on his hips in aggravation. “Why can’t you be serious?”
She’d never been more serious about anything in her life. Her world was about to come crashing down around her—again. But this time, no one would be there to help her pick up the pieces.
Except possibly for Pearce. If he’d truly been sincere in his offer to help her.
“Smile at him, flatter him, laugh at his comments, twist your hair around your finger—”
“Twist my hair?” The calmness of that question belied her simmering anger.
“Just be nice to the man, will you?” Exasperated, Freddie ran a hand through his hair. Fitting. Because she wanted to yank it out of his head. “For God’s sake, half the wives in the ton pretend for their entire lives that they like the men they’re married to. The least you can do is pretend to like Sandhurst for the next fortnight.”
No. That wasn’t the least she could do. The least she could do was let Frederick go to the dogs.
But that meant letting herself—and the shop—go down with him. She could never do that.
“I will try,” she half-heartedly promised.
“Good. Because I hope to see him tonight at the Black Ball.”
She let out a surprised squeak. “Pardon?”
When Frederick had purchased tickets to White’s grand gala six weeks ago, she hadn’t known that Pearce was back in London, let alone would be attendance. As the sister to an MP, her presence was expected—mandatory, if Freddie had any say in the matter. But seeing Pearce again was the very last thing she wanted. She’d come too close to confiding in him yesterday. If she saw him again, if old memories stirred—
No, she had to keep away from him. Avoiding him completely was the only way to ensure that he wouldn’t learn Freddie’s secrets.