Lord Norwich glanced at the ornate clock on the wall, then back at her. His mouth twisted to the side in thought.
“You may as well concede defeat. Perhaps we might visit the opera another time.” Not if Amelia could help it, though. One almost-visit had proven disastrous enough.
He inclined his head, though he did not look particularly happy. “Yes. I have a box reserved this Season; we will attend another night.” Awkwardly, he held out the mangled bloom. “For you.”
She took it gingerly, being careful to avoid touching her fingers to his. It bent in the middle and fell over. She offered a tight smile, stepping close enough to place her hand on the handle of the door. “Splendid.” She opened the door. “Next time, please leave all the flowers in the garden.”
She caught a glance of Lord Norwich’s expression before slipping from the room, and her lips tugged upward.
It would seem she was growing quite adept at surprising her husband into imitating a fish. At least she was successful in one aspect of her life.
Chapter Ten
A note arrived with herbreakfast.
It was tucked beneath the plate of pastries that Mary provided and instantly sparked Amelia’s curiosity. Ignoring the steaming cup of chocolate beckoning to her, she reached for the folded foolscap and pulled it open.
The contents were disappointing. They included a few lines from Byron’s “She Walks in Beauty”—which was far overused in Amelia’s opinion, if the dozens of notes bearing that very poem and delivered to Edith were any indication—and an invitation to join Lord Norwich in the drawing room at half-past eleven.
She had rather hoped to avoid the man for at least a day or so, after last night’s rose debacle. Unfortunately, that was not to be. Would she be more amenable to these surface-level attempts at wooing her if she were not so aware of his reputation and how many other women he must have used these same charms on? Or if she was not so closely guarding her disfigurement? Possibly. But she would never know. After all, while gossip may not always be true, there were many things to bolster the rumors. Such as Lord Norwich’s continued absences throughout the day—outside of going to Lords. This was perhaps the first morning wherein he was still at home.
As slowly as she was able, she ate her breakfast, then readied for the day with the help of Mary. And yet, despite her slothfulness, she arrived at the door to the drawing room at only a minute past the requested time. With all the trepidation of a woman anticipating the worst, she entered the room.
Lord Norwich was there and stood when she entered. His attire was impeccable, his hair styled to perfection, and his strong jaw well showcased above his cravat. But she did not dwell on his appearance. Lord Norwich was as vain as he was attractive and as rude as he believed himself to be charming. She was nearly immune to his good looks, now that she knew the fickle man beneath them.
Nearly.
“You look magnificent.” He bowed over her hand.
Amelia smiled tensely at the compliment. An empty compliment, if ever she heard one. She did not look magnificent in the least in another of her sisters’ horrible purchases. Besides, there was no warmth behind the comment, only a calculated sort of charm.
“Thank you, my lord. You wished to see me?”
He smiled. It did not reach his eyes. “Yes. Please sit.” With his arm, he gestured to the vacant space on the settee beside him.
Amelia sat in an armchair.
Lord Norwich did not appear bothered in the least as he lowered himself into his own seat. “I think we ought to host a dinner.”
Well, he certainly got to the point of it. “A dinner?” Amelia asked as politely as she could. “Who would you wish to invite?”
He sat forward in the chair. “Whomever we’d like. I was thinking a large affair. You should like to host such a thing, would you not?”
No.“I suppose. If you wish it.”
A brief shadow of confusion wrinkled his brow before he became a perfect Adonis yet again. “I only wish to do what would please you.”
Amelia bit the insides of her cheeks. Was this a moment in which she ought to speak her mind or defer? Growing up, whenever she spoke her mind, she was either reprimanded or ignored entirely.
She absolutely didnotwish to host a large dinner. The idea sounded horrible, what with the way Society was currently talking about their marriage. It would be a menagerie for thetonmore than any sort of enjoyable event for themselves.
Ultimately, she decided to speak her thoughts. What did she have to lose? Her husband hating her? That side of him may be better than this perfectly odd, charming version. “If you wish to do what would please me, I would rather we not host such an event.”
Again, his brow wrinkled. “Whyever not?”
“Society is not viewing us fondly just now.” She paused, deciding whether she wished to reveal anything that he could use against her later. Throwing caution to the wind, she added, “And I have a certain distaste for large groups.”
His eyes brightened, and Amelia felt immediate dread. What could he have concocted in that strangely functioning mind of his?
