Shall We Dance? by Kasey Michaels Page A

those who have made their way here today, to honor her, to welcome her, to place their hope in her. At least,” he ended, frowning, “that’s what Clive tells me. He, you understand, is a worker bee. I thank you again for your concern for the man.”
    â€œHe was all wet, My Lord,” Amelia said, putting down her still-half-full glass. “I could do no less.”
    â€œAnd I can do no less than to beg you to please allowme to take you to the Promenade tomorrow, Miss Fredericks. And not for any wager. You are fairly isolated here, I know, and I would correct that.”
    â€œYou would, would you?” Amelia answered, running her gaze up and down his body in a way that would make a lesser man fear for his motives. Impressive young woman, Perry decided; handsome in her way, and quite intelligent. Very pretty eyes, that just might see too much. “Will you also be truthful with me?”
    Perry sat down, spreading his coattails neatly, and crossed one long leg over the other. “I am nothing if not truthful, lies being so fatiguing to recall when necessary.”
    â€œAll right, then. Why are you here?”
    â€œThe wager, Miss Fredericks, remember?”
    Amelia frowned, and Perry felt his first pangs of guilt. It took him some moments to recognize this response, as he had so seldom experienced that particular emotion.
    â€œYou really are as silly as you say?”
    â€œOh, more so, Miss Fredericks, more so. I vow to you, we have yet to scrape the first layer off my shallow self. Fortunately, there are only two of them. The silly layer and the feckless one, I believe it could be termed. Indeed, I am quite a worthless fellow.”
    â€œSo you say, again and again.”
    â€œYes, this compulsion to confess my lapses to you amazes even me. Perhaps I should set aside an hour this evening, to think upon this phenomenon. But no, I can’t. I’m already promised at the theater. Ah, well, perhaps another time?”
    â€œAmelia? I have not been informed that we have a visitor.”
    Perry immediately leaped to his feet and bowed deeply to Queen Caroline, scarcely able to believe his luck (although he’d always been lucky; otherwise, he would not still be aboveground). “Perry Shepherd, Earl of Brentwood, gloriously honored, at your feet, and at your command, Your Royal Majesty.”
    He watched as the queen entered completely into the room, her rather garish dress and ridiculous and rather soiled blond wig vying for attention with her rouged cheeks and kohl-darkened eyes. “Amelia? Why was I not informed that the earl has come to see me? Are you keeping secrets from your queen? Am I to trust no one?”
    â€œYour Majesty,” Amelia said, dropping into yet another curtsy as she answered the questions. “His Lordship has just now arrived, by boat, ma’am, and I sought to offer him refreshments and ask the purpose of his visit.”
    â€œVetting him for me, were you? Very well, Amelia. Oh, sit down, Brentwood. God knows I’m going to. Amelia? You’ve dispensed the boons?”
    â€œThe fruit and cakes, ma’am? Yes, I have seen to it. The people were delighted.”
    â€œI know, I watched through my spyglass, from behind the windows. I watched, Amelia, as you allowed Brentwood here to escort you into my house without my permission.” She turned to wink at Perry. “I am much smarter than my husband knows, Brentwood. Are you smart enough to know he’s a fool?”
    â€œI fear, ma’am, that I pay little attention to weighty matters. But,” he added, smiling, “I would have had to have been locked in a box in a cellar not to know that our king is not in good odour with many of his subjects.”
    â€œIn good odour? Ha! They loathe him, Brentwood. He is guilty of every crime, every evil, every failing—and yet he comes attacking me? I tell you, Brentwood, I tell you, I cannot bear this, simply