“Why?”
He stepped closer. “Because you are my wife.”
“That is all?” Her eyes held a challenge to accompany the lift of her chin.
Oh, this was going to be fun. He stepped even closer, a smile playing on his lips. He pitched his voice more softly, and her eyes narrowed a fraction as she watched him approach. “And because I cannot think of a better way to spend my evening than with a beautiful woman by my side.” He was close enough now to take her hand—which he did.
She took a step away, her back hitting the pianoforte. Her hand pulled from his. “What are you doing?” A warning was clear in her voice.
“Asking you if you would like to go to the opera with me.” He left the small space between them but found he did not wish to.
Her eyes darted over his shoulder.
He leaned closer and tried for her hand again, surprised at the warmth that tingled up to his elbow when she did not pull away. This was going well at last. He should have skipped the niceties and moved straight to the physical persuasion. That was what women always did to him when hoping to marry the unmarriable earl.
Her still-narrowed eyes searched his, her chin tilted up to maintain the contact. He felt a thrill down his spine from the pointed attention.
Then, in an incredibly swift action, she pulled her hand from his yet again and ducked beneath his arm.
He turned just as she settled herself into a cushioned chair in the center of the room. Her bewitching eyes met his, giving away none of her emotions. She clasped her hands in her lap, leaning back with ease.
“Very well,” she said. For a moment, her gaze moved over his shoulder, before returning to his face. She was not as unaffected as it would appear—he’d be willing to bet on it.
“Splendid. We shall leave at half-past six.”
“You are sure you can manage it?” She stood, shaking out her skirt.
His eyes dropped to her lips again. Yes, he would be able to manage it very easily. Too easily, likely. She cleared her throat, and he met her gaze with a grin. “Manage to leave at half-past six?” he clarified.
She rolled her eyes. “Manage to be with me. In public. With all the gossip circulating.”
He stepped closer yet again.
In tandem, she stepped away from him.
A laugh escaped him, loud and amused. “Yes, I am sure I can manage such a thing.”
She scowled and quit the room before he could utter another word. It was not until her presence was gone that he fully recognized just where he was. Had he truly managed to be in this room—feel some sort of happiness in this room? For a time, it was as if sparring with Amelia had pushed aside the painful memories of the time his mother had spent here. But now with her gone, the memories were seeping back in, and Edward could not escape them soon enough.
***
What am I thinking?
Mary put the finishing touches on Amelia’s hair and stood back. “Do you need anything else, my lady?”
Amelia met Mary’s eyes in the mirror, surprised. “You have finished already?”
Mary’s expression remained the same, save for a slight, amused curving of her lips. “Yes, my lady. It is a quarter past six now.”
“Gracious.” Amelia turned in her seat, looking squarely at Mary. “I must have accomplished a great deal of woolgathering, for the time to have passed so swiftly. Well,” she looked to the door, “I suppose I should go down then.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Amelia fairly heaved herself out of the chair, her emotions warring with one another. Though his attempts were shallow at best, her new husband was apparently intent on gaining her favor. But why? And how could she put a stop to it? Since the first night that she had avoided any intimate relations with him, she had been sure her secret would be safe. Was that the point of his taking her to the opera, complimenting her, giving her flowers... all to manage that aspect of their marriage? She would not allow it. It was vital he not be allowed to get close to her. She simply needed to determine how to manage that.
She was no closer to forming a plan by the time Lord Norwich entered the drawing room some twenty minutes later.
“I am sorry to have kept you waiting, my treasure, but I was determined to find the best bloom in the garden.” He bowed gallantly over her hand, brandishing a rose as if it were a sword.
