A Scandalous Affair (Completed)

Chapter 1. 1856 

Lady Tristan,
I won't be attending the social season with you. I am going to be in Scotland with Margaret. She is due for her confinement in about three weeks, and I want to ensure that she gives me a son. I am thankful that you and I are married in name only and nothing more. Quite frankly, I wouldn't find you very lovely if you became with child. I'll send word when the child is born.
Respectfully,
George Tristan
Amelia stared at her husband's short letter. Of course he wouldn't be attending the season with her again. He never did. He didn't want to be seen with his wife. Why? Because she  had a lovely full figure that, according to George, wasn't attractive.  Margaret, on the other hand, was skinny and small breasted. She was exactly what the right honorable Lord George Tristan, Barron Tristan, desired.
Amelia shook her head again. She had no idea why she was still married to George. She didn't love him, and it was quite clear he felt the same about her. The only reason for her marrying him was to make sure that her Brother Robert didn't waste away from his mounting gambling debt. One week after the wedding, she sent her brother a bag filled with 50,000 pounds to pay off his debt.
Rising from her seat on the chaise in the drawing room, Amelia tore up her husband's letter and threw it into the fireplace. She watched the pieces of paper disintegrate into ash and black smoke. She wouldn't allow George to ruin what little happiness she had left. He had drained nearly all of it from the first night they had been together.
Amelia felt her chest become tight as memories came back to her. The wedding night, for one matter, hadn't been anything except a silent dinner. No words of affection exchanged. No tender caresses or kisses had been shared.
The only thing Amelia could recall about that night was the fact that, when George had removed her wedding gown and looked upon her body, she had seen the pure disapproval in his eyes. Then she had been subjected to heartless criticism, her body being shamed for the way it was.  She had been told that no gentleman would desire a body like hers. And then, when the beautiful Margaret Alastair had appeared, everything went sour.
Amelia turned away from the fireplace, walking back towards her original position on the chaise. Sinking down onto the plush deep red velvet cushions, she buried her face into her hands and began to cry. At the age of 19, she considered herself to be beautiful and intelligent. She had no idea why George was so against her physical appearance. But then, as she composed herself, she realized that didn't matter. Wiping her eyes, she turned her attention to the blazing sunlight streaming in through the window.
It was the beginning of October, and another social season was upon the city of London. Every eligible young lady and gentlemen of the ton would be searching for their partner. There was surely going to be a number of scandals.
Amelia smiled to herself, realizing that she wouldn't be alone that season. She would make sure of that. She would ensure that her happiness was front and center. To hell with George Margaret and their child, she thought. If a gentleman captured her interest, and they became interested in her, she would gladly give herself over to every pleasure that she desired.
***
Later that evening, Amelia was standing at the top of a grand staircase leading into the ballroom of the home of the Duke and Duchess of Suffolk. She felt like a Baroness, beautiful and elegant. Her champagne blonde curls had been fixed into a chignon. Her skin was a lovely mixture of cream and pink. Her curves were accentuated in a dusty blue off the shoulder silk gown with a sweetheart neckline and cream silk gloves and matching slippers. Her powder blue eyes surveyed the room, watching as the Single women in front of her descended the staircase. She smiled to herself, knowing that George wouldn't be able to attend this particular soirée.
The newly widowed Duchess of Cambridge, Cornelia, had decided to host a soirée for single men and women. After the tragic death of her husband, Arthur, she was wanting to remarry but didn't want to be out in the social season that the debutantes attended. So she put together the event in hopes of finding a suitable match for herself, and a match for those she was friends with.
As the announcer called her name, Amelia descended the marble staircase, her head held high with purpose. She was hoping and praying that Cornelius ball would bring her closer to her desired happiness. She had a delicious feeling that something wonderful was going to happen to her that night.