Chapter Fifteen


At the breakfast table the next morning, Aunt Ellen shoved The Morning Post into Amanda's hands. "Did you see this? It was Greythorne you spent the night with. Why in God's name did you do it, if you meant to refuse him? This will be your ruin. You must marry him now."
Amanda located the damning words on the page. "I did not stay at an inn with Greythorne." She faced her aunt calmly. "It is a lie."
"A lie?" Ellen cried. "Who would tell such a lie?"
"Greythorne." Amanda dropped the paper onto the table.
"He would do no such thing," Ellen retorted. "Greythorne is a gentleman."
Amanda gaped at her aunt. Her refusal to believe Amanda stung, but she tried to maintain a patient demeanor. "He is no gentleman, Aunt. He is trying to force me to marry him."
"Of course you must marry him." Ellen poked the newspaper with her finger. "After this you will be cut by everyone."
Amanda's old governess used to speak to her in the same bullying tone. When she'd been a child she'd learned to give the appearance of compliance and she fell back on that old habit. This time, however, she would not do as she was told. This time she would outwit Greythorne. Somehow, she would salvage her reputation and her fortune. And she would do it all without damaging Ramsford.
At least, that is what she hoped. And she hoped she might devise this course of action by the evening, when she and Aunt Ellen attended Lady Rawley's ball.
* * *
Ram brushed the dust from his jacket before he walked through the door of what he still thought of as his uncle's London town house. He'd gone in search of Devlin, finding him in Kent at his brother's estate. To Ram's surprise, Devlin was about to marry his beautiful mistress.
Ironically, Devlin charged him with looking out for the Diamond. Devlin told him what he'd discovered about Greythorne, his predilection to the practices of the Marquis de Sade. Now it made sense for Amanda to have refused Greythorne, but it still pained Ramsford that she refused his offer of marriage, especially since it had been so important to her to marry before the end of the Season. He supposed he was not lofty enough for her.
Ram could not avoid her now. Devlin had made it Ram's duty to make certain Greythorne stayed away from her. He must watch over her until she found the society husband she was so determined to catch.
The butler met him in the foyer and took his hat and gloves. Legs stiff from the ride, Ram trudged slowly up the staircase. He peeked into the parlor. His sister reclined on the settee, reading the newspaper.
"No morning calls, Mary?"
Startled, she glanced up. A smile lit her face. "Christian, you are back! I thought perhaps you would return in time for the ball."
He would rather face an icy rain in the wilds of Spain than attend Lady Rawley's ball. "I would not disappoint you."
She giggled. "I would not wish to miss it. There is the most delicious scandal afoot. Have you read the morning papers?"
He was reminded of Amanda's dislike of gossip. "No, I've been riding all day."
She rose and handed him the newspaper, pointing to a certain item.
He read and the blood drained from his face.
"Is it not shocking?" Mary said.
He returned the paper to her. "I just remembered an errand I must run."
"You'll be back in time for the ball?" she called to his back as he rushed down the stairs.
Ram hurried on foot to the Diamond's town house, but her aunt sent him away, saying Miss Reynolds was not receiving callers. Was it that Amanda would not see him, or anyone? He could not convince her aunt to have his presence announced.
"Tell me, Mrs. Reynolds, do you and your niece plan to attend Lady Rawley's ball tonight?" he bluntly asked.
She blinked as if uncertain what to tell him. "She…she has planned to attend."
"Then I will not trouble you further." Ram bid her good day and left.
He must confront her at the ball, then.

Chapter Eighteen


All eyes were upon them when they reentered the ballroom, but Amanda could think only of the feel of Ramsford's arm beneath her hand. She knew she was being selfish for accepting him, for making him pay for her folly, but she was simply not strong enough to refuse him a second time.
He escorted her over to her Aunt Ellen. Amanda lifted her chin when she saw Greythorne standing next to her aunt. Her aunt looked puzzled as they approached. She glanced nervously toward Lord Greythorne.
Amanda ignored him. "Aunt Ellen," she said. "Wish me happy. I am betrothed."
"Betrothed!" Greythorne cried, his voice loud enough to cause heads to swivel in their direction.
The whispering resumed in earnest, moving through the room, louder and louder, like a wave crashing to shore.
Aunt Ellen's jaw dropped.
Amanda suddenly felt giddy with happiness, a happiness she certainly did not deserve. She gave a light laugh. "I am betrothed to Captain Ramsford."
He stepped forward and bowed to her aunt. "I am honored your niece accepted me."
Ellen blinked. "Well, I…I do wish you happy."
Greythorne's face was red with anger. He stormed away.
"Will…will you marry within the month?" Ellen asked.
Amanda should have known her penniless aunt's concern had been confined to the money that ensured her support. Amanda would not blame her for it.
Ramsford looked puzzled, but he answered, "We shall marry whenever your niece wishes."
Ellen looked relieved.
Amanda suddenly wished to be anywhere else but at her aunt's side. She turned to Ramsford. "Shall we tell your mother as well?"
He glanced around the ballroom, abuzz with this new on-dit about the Diamond. "I fear she may know already."
The shock and dismay on Lady Biden's face as they approached confirmed his fear, but Amanda did not expect Lady Biden to rejoice about her son marrying a woman whose name had been made scandalous.
Ramsford, however, presented her to his mother and sister as if she were a prize catch. His mother was gracious, if palpably uncomfortable, and his sister could barely look at her. Supper was announced and Ramsford escorted them all to a table, inviting Amanda's aunt as well, so they all could be ill-at-ease together. While his mother made stilted conversation with her aunt and his sister remained sullen, Amanda followed Ramsford to the table to fill plates with the various treats set out for the guests.
"I am sorry, Christian," she said, lapsing into the familiar address of their time at the inn.
His brow furrowed. "You may cry off if you wish."
She blinked in surprise. "I did not mean that." Besides, she could never cry off. That would make him the object of even more talk and speculation. "I meant, your family cannot want me."
"We will invite you and your aunt to dinner tomorrow, unless there is another invitation you wish to accept."
She thought his mother would not like this at all. "Nothing would be so important, but your mother —"
He interrupted her. "My mother will agree."
Amanda was about to protest further, but she was distracted by a glimpse of Greythorne, shooting daggers at her with his eyes.
Ramsford noticed the direction of her gaze. "I will deal with him," he said.