Amelia looked torn between annoyance and bewilderment.
“Cleopatra married two of her own brothers, had an affair with the first emperor, and then with a military general, before killing herself,” she said.
“There’s your intelligence again,” replied William, glancing over his shoulder at the door. “I never can say what I mean, can I? Not unless it’s about ancient history.”
“You’ve been talking about nothing but ancient history since I got here,” she replied, half laughing as she walked toward him again, her arms reaching forward.
He took her hands, marveling at how small her fingers seemed beneath his own.
“I wasn’t, not really,” he replied. “At least that’s not what I meant to say.”
“Then what do you want to say to me, dearest William?” she asked gently.
“That I’m not the man for Cleopatra,” he said, trying to explain the tumult of thoughts threatening to overwhelm him. “I’m not gallant, or chivalrous, or charming, not the way a queen needs or deserves. I can see that clearly now. You need Marcus Antonius, not…not me. I’m sorry. I just need time to collect my thoughts on the matter, but I can’t ask you to wait, not tonight, not after the champagne. Who would think that the color would change its potency so much? I did not consider it, which just goes to show, I suppose, that I’m not a downy one, even if I pretend to be learned. Marc Antony would have considered it. That’s why Cleopatra deserves a man like that.”
The utter incomprehension on Amelia’s face was too much. William let go of her hands as he mumbled an apology, turning his head away from her. He started to make his way toward the door but was brought to a halt by a scream of frustration from Amelia.
“Good, God, why can you never trust a man in matters of the heart?” she half-shouted, although William was not sure if she was addressing him or the Almighty Himself.
“I…don’t know?”
Her eyes snapped to his, and this time he stepped back out of self-preservation. She looked less like the queen and more like a Valkyrie at that moment, and William wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen her look so magnificent.
Also terrifying, but mostly magnificent.
“If you think I am the sort of woman who is looking for a liaison with a man whose only recommendation is that he’s a flirt, then you are sorely mistaken in the nature of my character, William. I am shocked that you considered me a friend,” she shot at him, the last two words so sharp, he was afraid they would draw blood. “I did not come in here to dally with just any man, and if you can even think for a moment, I would accept a slip on the shoulder from Lord Gowding, of all people, then you don’t know anything about me at all!”
William was momentarily struck silent by this pronouncement, meaning he could only watch in utter confusion as Amelia stomped past him, swinging her arms in a most unladylike but extremely forceful fashion as she exited the room.
“What’s Lord Gowding got to do with anything?” he shouted after her and then winced at the responding scream.
Louis appeared at his side, holding out a glass of champagne. William had a horrible feeling that his friend had been lurking nearby the entire time.
“That did not go well, I see.”
William didn’t answer. He accepted the glass and downed the contents in one go, only to cough half of it back up over the orchids when the bubbles went straight up his nose.
He barely heard the arrival of his other friends.
“Ah,” said Conway with evident dismay. He thumped William on the back a few times for no real purpose, but it seemed to make the earl feel better.
“What happened?” demanded Dook.
“Bloody champagne,” muttered William.
He felt rather than saw his friends exchanging glances as he continued to cough.
“Brooks’s?” asked Killarney.
William sighed and then nodded his agreement. The club seemed like the only option that did not end with him making the entire situation much worse than it already was. He did not want to discuss the disastrous encounter with Amelia in the middle of the masquerade, but perhaps they would have some ideas on how he could fix it.
“We’d best leave by this back entrance,” advised Conway, unlatching the door to the garden at. “I may have inadvertently caught the eye of Lady Jersey, and I’m not sure who will kill me first—Prinny if I was foolish enough to accept the offer, or the countess when I don’t.”
Chapter Six
They put me into gaol while my crimes they were accounting
Like robbing Captain Howell up there on the Mountain
I sighed and sent word to me brother, the one ’twas in the army
For luck was on me side and he were stationed in Killarney
Mush rim damma dur um da
One for the daddy-o
There’s whiskey in the jar
Darling Sporting Jenny
Amelia managed to locate Lydia just before the unmasking at midnight.
“There you are,” said her friend with a broad, expectant smile.
“Where’s Conway?” replied Amelia, looking about for him.
Lydia’s expression quickly darkened. “In any other circumstances, I would be very cross with you for leaving me in his company, but luckily, I met Harlequin here, who was happy to keep me company.”
“Anything for my sister,” said the gentleman in question, instantly identifying himself. “Although I think Lydia’s being rather unfair to the earl.”
Amelia agreed but knew that to say so out loud would only cause a squabble to erupt. “May I steal your sister away, Mr. Willow? I need her assistance in making repairs to my costume.”
He acquiesced with grace, and so Amelia was soon able to lead her friend to the corner of the card room, where it was a little less crowded.
“What happened? Why do you look like thunder?” demanded Lydia as soon as they were comfortable.
“Because William Haddington is an idiot,” she seethed in response. “Would you mind very much if we left soon? I’m afraid that I’ll lose my temper and do something awful if I don’t have the opportunity to collect my thoughts.”
“In any other situation, I would say we should leave immediately, but Lord Gowding has taken up residence in the vestibule, and I doubt we would be able to get past him without his attempting to kiss you. It seems the champagne is more potent than most have realized.”
“Gowding,” spat Amelia, and at the look of alarm on Lydia’s face, she knew that she would have to tell her everything.
In Lydia’s defense, she managed to keep her expression neutral for the majority of her explanation of events in the orangery. Still, when it came to the recital of William’s comments about Marc Antony, she was unable to keep herself from laughing.
“I don’t see what’s so funny,” complained Amelia, crossing her arms over her chest. “The man I am in… I mean, the man I am exceedingly fond of just implied I was looking for an affair.”
“He did nothing of the sort!” laughed Lydia, “I swear, Amy, you are as foolish as William is!”
“I have no patience for prevarication, Lydia. Tell me what you mean this instant.”