Complications Read Online Free PDF

marrying her mother. The story was an
interesting one, unlike that of Amelia’s own family who had apparently never
been very wealthy. As a child, Amelia had asked Mr Harrington if she could
adopt his family’s thrilling story for her own. He had looked doubtfully at her
and expressed relief that his daughter did not have Amelia’s imagination.
    Lottie was someone who hated being the
centre of attention - part of the reason she had always been such an ideal friend
for Amelia - and would probably have preferred to return to her family’s
country estate until the rumours died down, if not longer. However, Amelia knew
that Lottie’s parents would never allow this, still expecting her to make a
good marriage. This made Lottie’s situation even more difficult.
    Amelia returned home in a depressed mood
and half-heartedly worked on a watercolour painting until she had to change for
dinner. Walker asked if she felt unwell when Amelia said she did not care what
dress she wore; she could muster no enthusiasm for such things.
    “How is Charlotte?” her mother asked over
the first course.
    Amelia looked down at her soup, appetite
fleeing as she remembered the ghostlike creature her friend had turned into. “She
is devastated. How could he have treated her like that? Why did he ask her to
marry him?”
    “That might well have been pressure from
his mother. Mrs Saverney is a strong-willed woman, keen to have her son married
to a girl of good family as soon as possible after the late Mr Saverney’s
sudden death.”
    “Nothing could possibly excuse his
conduct.”
    “If he marries this chit then he will be
excluded from good society,” Mr Daventry said, putting down his spoon and
dabbing his mouth with a serviette.
    “He should be hanged.”
    Mr Daventry patted Amelia’s shoulder. “He
certainly behaved in an unnecessarily cruel manner and I am sure he will suffer
for it.”
    He certainly would if Amelia ever set eyes
on him again.
    * * *
    Benjamin walked to the bar of his club and
ordered a double whiskey. He was not usually a heavy drinker but he was so
furious over Saverney’s treatment of Lottie that he wanted to kill someone. Tonight
he needed to relax over a card game or two and drink himself into a better
mood.
    He joined a card table that was just
getting started, preparing for a game of piquet. As he sat down his eyes fell
upon the man opposite him and he recognised his former friend and the former
object of his affection, Mr Duneton, who glared at him, got to his feet with a
scrape of his chair and stalked to another table. Benjamin slugged back the
rest of his whiskey and ignored the way the other players went quiet.
    After another long minute a new gentleman
took Mr Duneton’s place and the game began. When he won the first hand he began
to relax but then he heard Saverney’s name mentioned at the adjacent table. He
looked over at the group of young men.
    The gaudily dressed, red-faced gentleman
talking, clearly more than a little drunk, was Mr Wenton, someone he knew
slightly. “… Clearly thought she had got him under her thumb by forcing him to
propose to the Harrington chit, but I had seen his pretty maid and Miss
Harrington could not compare…”
    Benjamin was not even aware of having got
to his feet until he dragged Wenton out of his chair. “You are speaking of my
sister, sir, and I demand satisfaction.”
    Wenton blanched, protesting that he had
meant no offence, then several gentlemen from Benjamin’s table pulled him off
the man and tried to calm him down. He was too angry to remain, though, and
stalked out of the club in a worse mood than when he had entered it.
    Damn Saverney. When he next saw the man, Benjamin
would find a way to make him suffer for what he had done.

Chapter Five
    AMELIA HAD SPENT a pleasant hour on awaking with a book
of poetry by Robert Burns. Her mother would have destroyed the book had she
known of its existence, even though the poet had recanted some of his more
liberal