“With this ring I thee wed.” His voice came out strangely hoarse. He cleared his throat. No one noticed.
“With my body I thee worship.”
Edward repeated the vicar’s next words, shifting his weight at the intimate pronouncement. “And with all my worldly goods I thee endow.” At the man’s indication, he slid the ring onto Amelia’s finger, ignoring the odd tingling it caused in his fingertips. She did not look at him.
The remainder of the service finished quickly, and the two were directed to sign the registry. Still, Amelia did not look at him. Annoyance, not quite outweighing his newfound regard for the woman nor his confusion at her anger, bubbled within him. He led her, her hand barely touching his arm yet still sending odd jolts of energy through him, to his carriage to convey them to the wedding breakfast. Edward handed her in, then settled across from her, awaiting the tirade he was somehow sure would come.
***
Amelia could hardly see through the tears gathering in her eyes, but she refused to allow herhusbandto see them. He did not deserve her emotions. He did not deserve any part of her.
She watched her hands twisting in her lap as the carriage started moving with a lurch, willing the moisture away. The air in the carriage grew heavy with lack of conversation, but what was there to say?
Lord Norwich—Edward, as she’d just learned from the marriage ceremony—shifted on his bench, crossing his left ankle over his right as his legs stretched out, nearly reaching Amelia’s seat. She pulled her own legs closer to the window, not wanting even the slightest contact with the man. Not wanting the air about her to mingle with the air about him. How could he do this to her? How could herfather?
That thought brought her tears back, dangerously close to the surface. She needed to focus on her anger, not on the overwhelming despair that followed whenever she considered Papa’s complete disregard for her happiness. He’d mentioned her mother on a handful of occasions, including when they’d spoken after the engagement had begun and then again, this morning. Mentioned she’d have been pleased. But how could a mother be happy with forcing her daughter to marry? Most especially Amelia’s mother, who had been the only family member to make her feel wanted and important.
Tears surged again, and Amelia brushed her thoughts aside. Anger was safer.
A dull thud, followed by several more in quick succession, hit the top of the carriage. She peeked out the window, through a gap between the coverings and the glass, and a surprised laugh escaped her mouth. Finally, someone, or rather something, empathized with her situation. More thuds continued to pummel their equipage. The heavens had opened and rain poured down upon their carriage. Another laugh escaped her. She covered her mouth with her gloved hand. It was official; she had lost her mind. First her life, now her mind. What would be next? The shoes upon her feet? She could only hope the fateswouldtake those horrid half boots.
“You find the weather amusing?” Clearly Lord Norwich foundheramusing, with that barely restrained amusement in his voice.
“You do not?”
“I cannot say I do. Please, tell me what is so entertaining about this sudden storm.” His smile was clear in his voice, though she still refused to look over to his side of the carriage. She tightened her hands, staring out the window.
“I would think it is obvious, my lord.” Her voice was strained, the moment of odd humor passed. It was as if the few laughs had drained her of the last drops of emotion she possessed. Her mind felt numb, as did her body. She did not wish to speak with him. Not about the weather, not about anything at all.
“I must be oblivious then, for I do not see the humor in a mere rainstorm. Enlighten me?”
The rain fell faster: thick, satisfying drops blurring the view outside. Would that she could open the door and flee this nightmare that was now her life. She would weather the rainstorm over the inside of this carriage any day. Not for the first time, she felt that she should have given more thought to the idea of becoming a governess. It had to be better than the future she was now facing.
“Well?” he asked, humor still clear in the word.
Amelia took a deep breath, attempting to settle her swirling emotions before speaking. Apparently, she would not be escaping the conversation. It was her fault for laughing, really. She opened her mouth and strove for an even tone. It came out clipped regardless. “The storm mimics the very circumstances we are in. It is comical.”
Silence met her comment, and against her better judgment, she looked at Lord Norwich. He was regarding his clasped hands with solemnity, his elbows resting on his knees. A frown creased his brows.
“You... are clearly unhappy with our union,” he said in a low voice.
Exasperation filled her, setting her heart at a quicker pace. It was not a question, but she felt he required some sort of response.
“Yes, my lord, I am. I cannot imagine you are thrilled.”
He looked up at her, his brows raised. “It is not exactly what I expected, but I would not say I am unhappy. I intended to marry this Season regardless. Your father saved me a great deal of effort, it would seem.”
Surprise, or rather shock, kept her from speaking for a breath. Then her anger flooded back in. The fact that he was not particularly affected by their marriage should not surprise her. Lord Norwich was a man who did as he wished and likely did not anticipate needing to change anything in his life to accommodate an unexpected wife. She, on the other hand, would have to change everything.
Her hope for a love match was at the top of the list. Her happiness not far behind.
He was regarding her strangely as she struggled with her emotions. “That upsets you. Why?”
Her nostrils flared. He could not see? He could not see how wholly he had just ruined her life? She shook her head jerkily, wishing he would just leave her alone.
“No, no. You must tell me now. I am incredibly curious.” He leaned forward, a lopsided smile upon his face. It might have been attractive if she felt any goodwill toward him.
Her hands tightened further, her nails digging into her skin. In an impressive imitation of the pounding rain outside, the thumping in her chest grew in pace and volume.
