father had added the marriage clause to his will. Spencer hoped his reputation wouldn’t impede any progress in the marriage quest.
The door to the library opened once again. The butler gave him a steady look. “Lady Amelia is indisposed and wishes for you to return at a later time.”
Spencer bit back a sudden grin. So that was how she intended to play things? Well, Lady Amelia was sadly mistaken if she thought she could ignore him. He had too much to lose to fall over and play dead to her whims.
He arched a brow, leaned back and propped one ankle across the other. “I shall wait.”
The butler tilted his head. “Her ladyship does not wish to be disturbed.”
Knowing it was the height of rudeness and not caring one whit, Spencer gave him a slow, lazy smile. “I’ve come to discuss important business. If she will not see me this morning, then I shall wait until this afternoon. And if not this afternoon, then I shall arrive again the next morning. I shall come every day until Lady Amelia recovers from her indisposition and is ready to receive my call.”
To his surprise, the old butler chuckled. “I will give her the message, my lord.”
“Very good.” And he settled back, certain he would not have to wait long.
* * *
“My lady.”
The whispered words filtered through the haze of sleep anchoring Amelia to her bed. Her blankets bunched up around her, creating a comfortable haven of warmth. She scrunched her eyes closed, praying she had only dreamed the sound of Dukes’s voice. Now, where had she been... Oh, yes, dancing. She burrowed into her pillow, remembering that delicious low rumble of her partner’s voice...
“My lady, I apologize, but Lord Ashwhite is in the library.”
She groaned. “Again?”
’Twas the third day the persistent man had shown up at her doorstep. Yesterday he’d stayed until evening. Abominable creature. She groaned again and pressed her face against the pillow.
“My lady, shall I tell him you’re indisposed?”
“Please,” she whispered. Two could play at this game. Perhaps if she didn’t know what he wanted, she might be compelled by curiosity to see him, but the problem remained that she did know, and she could not help him.
Aiding Cousin Lydia was risky enough, especially since she wasn’t receiving a payment for her services. As much as she needed the money, she certainly could not allow Eversham’s best friend to hire her. When her brother found out, then her fate would be sealed. Her independence decimated by Harriet’s voracious need for control.
The sound of something plopping against her coverlets raised her head.
“My lady,” Dukes said. “I’ve brought your morning mail in case you do not plan to leave your room again.”
“Thank you.” She pulled the covers over her head, scowling into the darkness. How uncouth of Lord Ashwhite, how utterly irritating, that he persisted in this nonsense. She refused to be bound to her bedroom simply because he could not take no for an answer.
On the other hand, she had no wish to face him. It was bad enough that she dreamed of his voice, but to look into that startling, laughing green gaze of his and refuse to help might be her undoing.
If he wasn’t her brother’s good friend, she’d call the constable...oh, no.
She was to meet with her Bow Street runner today regarding Lord Dudley!
She whipped into a sitting position, startling the stack of mail into slipping off the bed. It crashed to the floor. Her hair knotted about her head in a wild mass that divided her line of vision. She swiped it away and jumped out of bed, almost colliding with the boudoir as she rang for Sally.
While waiting, she scooped up the mail. Nothing important except a letter from her brother. She sighed, went to her vanity and plucked up her letter opener. She slit the envelope and read his scrawling script, each of his words tightening her chest until she felt as though she wore a corset three sizes too small.
She closed her