Amelia Grey - [Rogues' Dynasty 06] by The Rogue Steals a Bride Page A

her shoulders, Mr. Matson Brentwood would not be the man for her. He was a very resourceful businessman. He would not welcome advice from his wife on how to manage a business.
    “I know how you feel, Sophia, and I will not let your dreams fade as mine did so many years ago.”
    Sophia heard a strain of wistfulness in her aunt’s voice. “Did you have a beau when you were younger?”
    “Me? No,” she whispered, sadness gathering in her eyes. “Not a beau, but June and I went to dances the first year we were old enough. I had such a wonderful time dancing, talking, and smiling at all the young gentlemen. But just before the Season was over, June had declared that we didn’t need dances, beaus, or parties. No, we had each other. That was all we needed, and that’s the way it’s been.”
    “Why did you stop going just because June did?”
    “Oh, we always did everything together. We still do.”
    “Why did she stop wanting to go?”
    “I don’t know. She never told me.”
    “And you never asked?”
    “Oh, I did, but she made it quite clear I was not to ask her any personal questions, so I never mentioned it again.” Suddenly Mae’s eyes brightened, and she smiled. “I was so excited when your father asked if we’d be your chaperones and help you find the perfect gentleman to marry. I knew we could go to parties again, see the glittering chandeliers and watch the dances, hear the music, see all the beautiful clothing and jewelry the ladies wear.” She stopped, laughed, and then said, “Oh, my, listen to me! I sound like a young gel waiting for her first Season. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
    “I know what’s wrong.”
    “You do?”
    “Yes. You want to be courted.”
    “Oh, yes, I do,” she whispered in a breathy voice, sounding as if she was in a trance. Suddenly, she cleared her throat. “What am I saying? I mean, no, no, of course not. You allow me to fill my head with too many fanciful notions, Sophia.”
    “What’s wrong with that?”
    Mae looked flustered for a moment and then said, “Well, I don’t want them. I have all I need to make me happy.”
    Sophia stepped closer to her aunt. “Are you being truthful with me?”
    “Of course I am.” Her eyes turned thoughtful again. She looked at Sophia and continued, “Mostly. Oh, Sophia, must you make me admit I do sometimes wonder what it would be like—to have married and had children? But you know the old saying that you can’t put spilled milk back in the bottle. I was put on the shelf years ago, and there is no going back for me.”
    “I don’t believe that, Auntie.”
    “Well, it’s true,” she said in a stronger voice and then gave a half chuckle. “I don’t know what is putting all these silly ideas in my head. Perhaps it was being at the ball last night. I haven’t been to one in so long. I certainly don’t know what is making me say these outlandish things to you. I must be getting daft, or perhaps it was all the handsome gentlemen I saw. Maybe it was the lively music or the glass of delicious champagne I drank.”
    “Or possibly it’s simply that an earl caused your breath to catch in your throat and a fluttering in your stomach.”
    Mae jerked around to face Sophia with surprise lighting her face. “Did you feel it too, when you looked at Lord Bighampton and Lord Snellingly?”
    “No, Auntie,” Sophia said, feeling her own wistfulness. But there was another gentleman who’d made her feel that way.
    “Oh, oh, I didn’t either,” Aunt Mae said, turning her face away again.
    Sophia knew her aunt was fibbing, again. “Auntie?”
    Mae shook her head and laughed. “Yes, I admit that sometimes I yearn for the touch of a man. I have dreams even in my dotage. I imagine what it would be like for a gentleman to call on me, to hold my hand, to hold me. But that’s all it is. A dream. I’m too old for anything else.”
    Sophia felt her aunt’s passion deep in her soul. “Nonsense. You aren’t forty yet, are