“You’re worried about Walters?” Lucas asked softly.
Hugh watched his wife smile up at Kit. She was so at ease with his friends. She was never so at ease with him. “Yes,” he choked out. “I will have to determine what to do with him when I return to London. He clearly has every intention of pursuing a dowry by any means necessary, and since I cannot be marrying every woman he threatens, there must be a more permanent way to keep him from damaging those around him.”
Lucas scowled. “The bastard has to be involved in more than just seducing unsuspecting young women. Let me use my resources to investigate while you’re gone. We’ll figure this out.”
“Thank you.” Hugh let out a breath and turned toward his friend. “For everything. You and Diana have been very kind, and I appreciate you not spreading Lizzie’s secret across the group.”
“I understand,” Lucas said. “But may I give you one piece of advice?”
Hugh nodded. “Of course.”
“She is a lovely young woman,” Lucas said softly. “But more—and better—than that, she seems intelligent and kind. Don’t let yourself destroy what could be…good just because of this bad beginning. I nearly did that with Diana and if I had lost her—”
He cut himself off, but Hugh heard the desperation in his voice. The very idea of losing Diana was almost physically painful to his friend.
“I will try,” Hugh promised. “But it won’t be easy. Diana didn’t hate you as Amelia hates me. And she didn’t love someone else.”
“She won’t always love him, nor hate you,” Lucas reassured him. “If you allow her to see your true self. No matter how painful that is. Let her in, mate.”
Lucas clapped a hand against his arm, not waiting for an answer before he strode away toward his own wife and swung her up for a kiss. Hugh watched them with that burning jealousy still deep in his heart.
Then he shifted his gaze to Amelia. He wasn’t as certain as Lucas seemed to be that showing her his heart would change anything about how she felt. But he was still drawn to her, despite everything that kept them apart. Despite everything that could bring their new marriage to a sudden and painful halt.
Amelia stood, hands shaking as Theresa unbuttoned her gown. Herweddinggown, which had been hastily prepared in the past few days. It wasn’t the beautiful silver dress she had pictured when Aaron had proposed, nor had the brief, proper ceremony in Hugh’s garden been the one of her dreams.
Of course, it had been lovely. And when Hugh took her hand, she had felt that shiver of awareness and thought quite hard about the things Diana had told her about passion and wedding nights and all the things that happened between a man and a woman.
But now the party was over, the night was long and she was the Duchess of Brighthollow. Through that door and an antechamber, theDukeof Brighthollow waited for her. And her heart would not stop throbbing until the rush of blood blocked out almost every other sound.
“Your Grace?”
She jumped as she realized Theresa was speaking to her. She was Her Grace. “Y-yes, I’m sorry, Theresa. What did you say?”
Her maid’s face gentled. “You needn’t apologize, Your Grace. I’m certain your nerves must be frayed to their ends! I only asked if you’d like to put on your regular nightdress or the new one.”
Amelia glanced over at the two gowns laid across her bed. One was her serviceable cotton gown, comfortable and plain. The other had been gifted to her that very morning by the duchesses. It was a beautiful nude silk with a lacy bodice that left very little beneath to the imagination. It was scandalous beyond measure and yet, based on what Diana had told her the night before, it was perhaps the perfect outfit for what was about to happen.
“The new,” she said, the words sounding slow and far away to her ears.
Theresa blushed as she picked it up, then helped Amelia out of the rest of her clothes and into the nightdress. She brushed out Amelia’s hair and arranged it prettily, then sighed. “Well, you are ready. I should leave you to your husband.”
Her husband. Amelia jolted at the thought. Hugh Margolis, Duke of Brighthollow, was her husband. Forever. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Theresa cast her one last look as she stepped to the door. Then she said, “Just think of England, my dear. Good night.”
Then she was gone, and Amelia stood alone in the great, beautiful chamber that would be hers for the rest of her days. Her head spun. Diana had described powerful pleasure and deep connection when she talked about what would happen in the next bedroom.
Theresa spoke of thinking of England and looked horrified on Amelia’s behalf. And right now Amelia had no idea what to think of any of it.
She did not get a chance to think on it further, though, for there was a light knock at the door that led to the adjoining chamber. She jumped and pivoted to the entryway, trying to gather her nerves as she said, “C-come in.”
The door opened and she caught her breath. It was Hugh, of course, but not the same formal, stern Hugh who had taken her hand and changed her name and future a few hours ago. No, this man was different. He no longer wore a jacket or a waistcoat. His cravat had long been discarded and a few buttons on his shirt were undone. He wore no boots.
This was…her husband, without formality to stand as a wall between them. And she could hardly breathe as she pondered how handsome he was.
“My God,” he whispered as he took a step into the room. “You are…you are magnificent.”
