“Good. Good.” He nodded to himself. “Lord Norwich is treating you well?”
“Yes.”
“And you are getting along with the household well?”
“I am.” What could be the point of all of this?
“And you are... are you happy?”
“I...” Amelia paused. Was she happy? She thought back to the morning before. “Yes. I am. It is an adjustment, to be sure, but I am well.” It was true. She was confused and more than a little frustrated, but when she was with Edward, she was happy.
He did not quite meet her eyes, but she saw him expel a breath he must have been holding. “Good.”
That must have been all. When he did not speak again for a full minute, Amelia pushed to the edge of her chair.
“Your mother would have been better at this. I am—I am sorry if I caused you pain in forcing the union.”
Her mouth fell open, and there was no stopping it. Her father? Apologizing? She had never had much conversation with him at all, let alone a conversation such as this. She couldn’t speak. But she had to say something. What, though? Weeks before, even days before, if she was being honest, she would have resented the words. Thrown them back at him. Told him hehadcaused her pain. But in this moment, and facing his clearly discomfited apology, she had no wish to do any of that. She’d learned she had a propensity to speak without regard for another’s feelings when untethered. And she’d learned she did not like how she felt any time she did so.
“The situation was—well, there were not many options were there?” His eyes met hers, and for once, she didn’t see a duke—she saw a father.
“There were not.”
They stared at each other for several heartbeats longer before he cleared his throat. “I am happy to hear you are settling in well. I will not keep you any longer.”
Slightly dazed, Amelia nodded and came to her feet.
“And Amelia?”
She paused. “Yes?”
“You are welcome here any time.”
Her very being seemed to smile. “Thank you, Papa.”
He nodded, and she turned and walked from the room, subtly pulling her hands together and pinching her wrist to ensure that this was real.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Edward’s leg bounced up anddown, physically counting down the final few minutes until he should arrive at Barton’s home.
He was frustrated, greatly so, but tried to set aside his feelings in preparation of seeing his friend and hopefully helping the man’s situation. But the events of the last few days were annoyingly refusing to vacate his mind. The encounter with Miss Brooks had been the first in a string of misfortunes. Thenerveof that woman.
He clenched and unclenched his hand as he stared out the carriage window, wishing—not for the first time—that he’d chosen to ride a horse.
He hardly remembered her name, but he would never forget her calculating looks. She was the daughter of a well-to-do merchant and in possession of one of the worst cases of social climbing he had ever seen.
He vividly recalled the way she had faked an urgent message from his housekeeper while at a ball, only to corner him in a room on his way out of the home. Another man might have been intrigued by her forward nature, but not he. And her only intentions had been that they be caught and forced to wed.
Theyhadbeen caught. But they certainly had not been forced to wed. Edward had not so much as looked at the girl, let alone kissed her or done anything of the sort, when a handful of well-timed partygoers entered the room. An uproar had ensued, her father had demanded he marry her, and Edward had refused. His standing in Society had allowed him to weather the following scandal, but evidently, she had not fared so well. Though, if she was now returning to London, all must have settled. He could only be thankful he was married and would never have to deal with the machinations of such a woman again.
Ridiculous women who would do anything for a title. She was not the first, nor the last, to attempt such a thing. But Edward had learned one thing from his heavy-handed father, and that was that he could not be cowed by anyone.
Though, interestingly, it was a similarly innocent meeting that had led to his marriage. Yet Amelia was the polar opposite of Miss Brooks. Even the foul woman’s name spoken only in his thoughts made him cringe.
Thank the fatesshehadn’t been the daughter of a duke. It was a true miracle that after all the schemes that had been in place to snare him, he had fallen into marriage with the one woman who did not care to marry him at all. The one woman he cared for possibly too much.
Amelia.
