An Unexpected Earl (Lords of the Armory #2) - Anna Harrington Page 0,8

any love for Pearce, a young man he’d viewed as a threat to his daughter’s proper future as the wife of an aristocrat. A worry that had proven worthless in the end.

“You’d better hope that Mr. Howard didn’t see you,” Maggie warned, “or it won’t be Sir Charles you’ll be dealin’ with but a husband. He’ll see to that!”

Amelia choked down an ironic laugh. That could never happen. After all, not even her brother possessed the power to force a husband upon her when she already had one. Somewhere.

But she also couldn’t let the scandalous things she suspected Freddie might have done become known. Because if her brother’s sins ever came to light, then so would hers. And those of her absent husband.

“Help me out of this gown and into my dress, will you?” She scooted to the edge of the seat, hoping to change subjects while she changed clothes. The last thing she needed now was Maggie’s worry. Or her prying. “We’re almost to Mayfair, and Freddie’s servants cannot see me like this.”

“I’m one of his servants.” Maggie’s lips pursed in chastisement. “And I don’t think undressing in a hired hackney is at all proper, not for the sister of an MP and a respectable lady who depends upon her reputation.”

In other words, a lady who had nothing but her reputation and the good graces of her brother to survive upon.

But those graces were now under attack, and she simply wouldn’t sit by and let their lives be destroyed.

Oh, Frederick could certainly be weak-spined and self-serving, but he’d also supported her in those dark days seven years ago after Aaron Northam had wed her and then abandoned her before the ink on the parish register was even dry, stealing her fortune and shattering her heart. Freddie had hired all manner of lawyers, accountants, and investigators in a desperate attempt to find Aaron and force him to return—and to return her money. But Aaron had fled to America, and once there, he’d vanished, leaving no trace.

After two years, Amelia agreed with Frederick to give up the search. No one except the two of them—and Aaron—knew that she was married, and she’d go to her grave keeping it that way. Because Freddie had also protected her from being a social pariah by covering up all traces of her reckless elopement.

True, Freddie had also been protecting himself by helping her; even then he’d had political ambitions, and the brother of a socially ruined woman could never have a career in the Commons, especially when the seat he’d been given had been granted by influential friends who would gladly rescind it to keep his family’s tarnished reputation from tainting theirs. And true, as well, that even though he’d taken her under his roof and provided her with an allowance, he’d never let her forget how foolish she’d been.

Yet Freddie hadn’t had to help her at all. Now that he was in deep trouble, just as she’d been, how could she turn her back on him?

“Yes, you’re a Howard servant, but you’re also my friend.” Amelia’s eyes heated with desperate emotion. “And right now Frederick and I both need your help.” She presented her back to her maid. “Please.”

Maggie grudgingly switched benches to sit beside her and began to unbutton Amelia’s tight bodice.

“Thank you,” Amelia said over her shoulder as the dress loosened enough that she could shimmy out of it. “I couldn’t do this without you, you know that.”

“What I know is that both our gooses will be cooked if your brother ever catches wind of what you did tonight.”

Amelia smiled at the lack of venom in Maggie’s scolding. “Then he won’t find out. Even if he does, I’ll protect you. I promise.”

Pearce’s words flashed through her mind—So I could rescue you.

If he only knew the truth! Stripping out of a gown designed for a courtesan in a hired hackney rolling through Mayfair…she wasn’t certain that even a brigadier turned earl could rescue her from the mess her life had become.

Or if he’d even want to. They hadn’t exactly parted well all those years ago, their childhood friendship coming to a crashing end. Papa had made certain that they’d never see or contact each other again by threatening to have Pearce court-martialed and her married off immediately to any son of a peer he could find if they ever tried. Neither of them dared attempt it for fear that it would ruin the other. In that, at least, their lives had still been