I stepped from the gown and retrieved my robe. The diary sat innocuously on the chair. I fitted it to my palm, the leather cool under my touch. The dress fitting was done, and I was anxious to be alone to read the journal. Except I didn’t have time. Afterthe modiste appointment, I promised I’d call on the duchess to check on her health.
Once darkness fell, I’d close myself in my room and read the journal. Yet even as I made the plans, my pulse raced with uncertainty. Ignorance was bliss for a reason, and if I were smart, I would dispose of the diary.
I tucked it into my secretary desk and rushed from the room before I could change my mind.
Chapter Nineteen
Lord Oliver, Duke of Hayesford
The air was unusually warm as Amelia, and I left my house. Her father’s house was across the park from mine, and I led her down the gravel path. Spring had arrived, and the flowers were in full bloom.
“Your grandmother seems to be in good spirits.” She gave me a careful smile as if gauging my reception to her comment.
“She is anxious to see us wed.” After my tryst with Noah, my confidence level had increased and if fate hadn’t intervened, I would be having another encounter with him. However, the doctor had told Grandmama that if she wished to attend the festivities, she’d have to leave for the country tomorrow and get a few days rest before the wedding. Which meant I would have to leave London as well. “I must admit to agreeing with her on that score. The sooner I can marry you, the happier I will be.”
She snapped her head up, eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Indeed?”
“Indeed.” I slowed my steps and turned to face her. We were alone in the park with my footman and her maid following at a discreet distance. I might have to forgo my affair with Noah, but I was still blessed with Amelia’s company. Our engaged status gave us license to be affectionate. I pulled her close and pressed a kiss on the tip of her nose. The familiar sweet floral scent of her perfume mimicked the nature surrounding us.
She rose onto her toes, the heat of her breath touching my lips. I used my knuckle to tilt her chin, angling my head to play my lips over her pliant ones. A touch of desire sparked my blood, giving me hope. I drew her closer to my body. Soft curves melted into me, adding to my sense of contentment. Amelia was my past and present; no matter where life took me, she’d be my future.
I pulled back, smiling at her pleased grin. “I had best get you home.”
“Home for only four more days. Then my home will be behind us, not in front of us,” she said, holding my arm close to her side as we began to stroll once more. “I can hardly wait to run my own household, although I must admit, it is intimidating. From what your grandmother says, I will need at least two, if not three, assistants just to run the estates.”
“You are up to the task, Amelia.” In her own way, she was just as formidable as my grandmother. She’d never realized her full potential because she’d been living under the yoke of her mother’s oppression. I had a feeling she’d thrive as duchess. Grandmama certainly had faith in Amelia; otherwise, she wouldn’t have pushed for the union. “I have faith in you. How was your dress fitting?”
She worried her bottom lip. “Oliver, I have a confession to make, and it pains me to say it.”
I slowed my steps, waiting for her to speak. Amelia wasn’t one to be rushed. From the color on her cheeks, she was about to tell me something embarrassing.
“I hate the dress.” She exhaled a long breath and squeezed my bicep with her gloved hand.
“You hate which dress?” I asked. Amelia and her mother often fought over her wardrobe. Amelia had bold tastes and prior to wearing the drab hues of mourning garb, liked bright colors. Her mother forced pastels on her.
“My mother’s wedding dress. The one I insisted on wearing.” She released a trill of light laughter. “I tried it on, and it’s hideous on me.”
“But you said you always dreamed of getting married in it at Hayesford Chapel.” She’d been vocal about her plans and had never veered off course until now. The fact she was questioning her dream made me suspicious. I had been afraid to ask for her hand because of my insecurities and sensed she had her own reservations. I hesitated in asking, but I had to know the answer. “Have you changed your mind about us?”
“Oh no, that’s not what I meant,” she said, taking my hand in hers and holding it close to her heart. “I have changed my mind about the dress in its current state. The modiste is removing the lace and using it to embellish my veil, so I will have something old, something new, something borrowed, and a sixpence in my shoe.”
“A sixpence in your shoe? That sounds uncomfortable,” I said, kissing her temple.
Laughter met my comment. She’d been so serious of late; it was a pleasure to see. I hadn’t helped matters by not proposing on the promised day. “I daresay it will. However, it is supposed to bring me good fortune.”
