Nicholas did not seem like the sort of gentleman who would refuse a duel, even if he was far from honorable. There must have been more to the story than he was saying.
“Who was this man?” Amelia asked.
At this, Nicholas rose to a stand.
“All you need to know is that he was exceedingly old and that the stress of a duel alone would have killed him. I would not have his blood on my hands—not least of all because I did not want to be accused of murder. And itwouldhave resulted in his murder. Of that much I am certain. For fact, I believe that to have been his plan.”
“You think he wanted to die just to punish you?” Amelia rose too, a dark feeling swirling in her stomach. “What could you possibly have done that was so terrible as to warrant that?”
“There was a… woman involved.” He said nothing more than that but looked at her challengingly. “How does that make you feel?”
Amelia was not sure. The feeling was foreign and new. Something like jealousy, though she would never have admitted as much out loud. She had no right to feel any way about Nicholas’s past. Their marriage was a sham. He had no real affection for her. And she could have none for him.
“That is not a question I can answer without knowing more,” she murmured, even though the mere thought of Nicholas with another woman made her feel frightened and curious all at once. “Was she a cousin? A friend? A…”
Nicholas gave her a side smile. “Alover?”
The air shifted between them. Amelia glanced nervously at the door.
“Can you not bring yourself to say the word?” he asked.
He walked around the desk and stood before her. He had removed his coat earlier, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearms roped with lean muscle and dusted with dark hair. His hands found the armrests of her chair and settled there, looming over her. Amelia felt the need to squirm, heat building between her legs.
Whatwasthis feeling? Why didhealonestir it within her?
“You have suggested as much. All your mentions of my past scandals…” His smile was disarming and only intensified the strange pressure building within her. “And yet you will not utter the wordloverbefore me. Though, perhaps it is the moment of privacy which has discouraged you.”
He laughed softly.
“A pity for you, dear. We will likely encounter many more moments of interrogation and privacy in our short-lived marriage…”
Amelia pressed her legs together and closed her eyes. He had leaned in so close, she could feel his breath ghosting against the skin of her face.
Was this her punishment for questioning him? It felt like it.
She gathered what remained of her courage and met his eyes. She drank in those pools of warm brown, wondering who else had met them so closely—sohungrily.
“I am being unfair to you now…” he whispered into her ear. “But do not ask questions you do not want the answers to,dear Amelia. We will not survive this charade of a marriage otherwise.”
Next morning, Amelia stood in the vestibule of the Church St. Mary the Virgin, staring at her reflection in the holy water of a nearby stoup.
A pale and frightened face rippled back at her. She could barely recognize herself. Beatrice and Mary-Ann had slaved over her appearance all morning, gently guided by the lady’s maid Nicholas had hired for his bride.
She drew in a fortifying breath, cut short as the grand doors opened behind her and Uncle Benjamin marched inside. The shoulders of his jacket were spotted with rain. His face, unreadable.
“I have just spoken with the vicar. Everything is in order. His Grace the duke awaits you indoors,” he declared. “We may proceed inside when you are ready.”
“Have many people come?”
“Not a great crowd. It seems the Duke’s wishes for an intimate ceremony were respected.” He paused, stepping toward her. His nose was red from the cold outdoors. Amelia would miss seeing his kind face every day—the unwavering, comforting presence of her uncle. “Are you thinking of Frederick?”
“I was thinking of you,” she confessed, looking down at her ivory gown. “But now that you have mentioned Freddy… I fear he will be so cross with me once he returns to England and learns of what has transpired.”
“We have written him. There was nothing more that could be done. I know he always opposed you having your own life, Amelia, but your brother must cease one day treating you like a child.” He laughed gently. “As I have had to do most recently. I never imagined this life for you, my darling girl. But I have hope in my heart that it will be a worthwhile change.”
Amelia smiled, comforted somewhat by his words—even if they were spoken in a lie. “I had no idea you had developed such fondness for His Grace.”
“Fondness? Good Lord above, I would not call it fondness! But any gentleman who should find a woman in distress and remain to save her at a great cost to himself cannot be so wretched as they have accused him to be. I remember his father still. He was a decent man. Perhaps there is more of his sire in the current Duke of Avon than we have been led to believe.”
