Dorian had responded, “So could allowing this woman to slip away.”
In the end, Dorian had obtained approval from his father, a blessing from Baron Wyle, and Miss Alvin accepted his offer with nothing shy of exuberant enthusiasm. This match was more than a pairing of good breeding and the benefit of a hefty dowry in exchange for a lofty title; Dorian was well and truly in love with the woman.
He found her stunning, enchanting, and witty in an uncontrived manner. While she excelled in the traditional feminine arts, she was also a brilliant horsewoman, brave and skilled enough to keep pace with him on their rides. She was kind to everyone she met. She was not prone to the same mood swings or games that Dorian had witnessed from so many of her peers. In all, Amelia Alvin had snagged him from their first meeting, and Dorian had been addicted ever since.
As a group, Dorian and his friends ascended the stairs into the townhouse along with the throng of other newly arrived guests. Instantly, Dorian’s heart rate increased, and he began searching for Miss Amelia Alvin, silently calculating how long it would be until he could hold her in his arms.
“Ah, the blushof young love,” Lady Opton, a septuagenarian matron, crooned to Amelia. The three ostrich feathers the woman wore in her snow-white hair bobbed with every one of her shaky movements, and it was difficult for Amelia to tear her eyes away from them. She prayed the woman did not teeter too closely to one of the many candelabras, lest there be a combustible emergency. She pasted on a kind smile and opened her mouth when Lady Opton continued. “I remember being so naïve.”
Amelia’s mouth snapped shut like a fish’s.
“Men are all pretty speeches and promises until they get what they want; mark my word.” With no little effort, she leveled an arthritic finger at Amelia.
Amelia took a few seconds to remind herself of the necessity of composure. Her smile was more than a little strained when she finally said, “I appreciate the words of caution from someone as experienced as yourself.”
Lady Opton narrowed her pale eyes at her, as if trying to discern her sincerity. She seemed to decide Amelia was worthy of more knowledge, so she continued. “Accept everything you are owed, handle everything with a stiff upper lip, and you’ll manage. You chits these days may not be made of the sterner stuff of my generation, but lesser women have managed.”
Amelia gritted her teeth and then felt badly for her uncharitable feelings toward this woman. Were her words rude and unsolicited? Absolutely. But she wondered what Lady Opton must have endured to make her feel it was so necessary to impart this knowledge to a young woman whom she did not know other than in general passing. That was sobering.
Amelia’s smile softened slightly. “Thank you. I will take your advice into consideration. The wedding is still a few weeks away, but I have already begun collecting pieces of knowledge to take with me into my new role.”
The woman sniffed. “See that you do.”
It was with no small relief that, when she glanced around the woman’s quavering plumage, she met her fiancé’s eyes. Her stomach flipped in excitement, a thousand butterflies taking flight at once. He knew her so well, correctly interpreting her silent plea for help, and immediately cut a swath across the room. Lean and tall with deep chocolate hair, dark, intense eyes and bold slashes of brows, he was strikingly handsome. And when he smiled…Amelia’s knees never failed to grow weak. Now, he fixed that charming grin upon the matron who’d held Amelia captive for nearly half an hour. Leave it to him to be her knight, come to rescue her. He’d stolen her breath the very first time their eyes met, and every time since then. She wondered if thatreaction would ever dull with time; she certainly hoped it would not. She’d grown quite attached to the way her heart skipped, how her body tingled whenever he was near. His manners and mien had a way of drawing one in; everything about him projected confidence without arrogance. He was perfect, and she did not know how she, of all women, had managed to catch his eye.
Smoothly, Dorian greeted the ladies and bowed deeply over the older woman’s gloved hand. “You look stunning this evening, Lady Opton. An absolute vision.”
All her previous gripes about men seemingly forgotten, the old woman’s scowl melted away and was reformed into a wide smile, as if her face had been made of wax set to a candle’s flame. “You are utterly shameless, Lord Stadewell. Shameless!” Did she actuallytitterwhen he pressed his lips to her knuckle?
Amelia had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing aloud at the absurdity.
“I simply say things as they are.” He tilted his head and offered Amelia the barest hint of a wink. “Were I a few years older, my poor betrothed might have cause to worry about losing my affections to a lady such as yourself.”
The woman cackled with delight. “Only a few years?”
“Most assuredly,” the earl said, all gravitas. “Alas, I was born in the wrong generation, but Miss Alvin and I will make a go of it the best we can.” He slipped Amelia’s arm through his without a glance. “Speaking of which, I do believe this next dance is mine. If you will excuse us.” Without giving Lady Opton a chance to protest, he swept Amelia away with all the grace and guile of someone well-seasoned in the delicate art of Society interactions.
Finally free, Amelia clutched his strong arm and released a fit of giggles. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?” He grinned down at her, filling her vision with straight, white teeth and devilish dimples.
“So easily charm and enthrall everyone with whom you interact. Prior to your arrival, Lady Opton couldn’t say enough horrid things about men and the institution of marriage.”
“Hm. She must be related to Lord Hart,” he muttered.
“And then you swoop in like a knight, and she is practically swooning like a piqued debutante at your feet.”
“Can you blame her?”
“It is utterly maddening how you make everyone fall in love with you,” she said with a laugh.
“It comes in handy,” Dorian murmured, his eyes flitting to her lips. “And I do believe my skills have worked quite well on you.”
“It took more than your pretty words and a few flirtatious glances, Dorian.” It had been weeks since he’d asked her to use his given name, but she’d only felt right doing so after their engagement became formal—even then, only when no one else was in earshot. Her heart danced a little jig each time she used it, and she could tell he liked it as well. She swore his eyes darkened several shades whenever she addressed him as such. She might have thought it was a trick of the light had she not come to recognize the same thing happened right before he gave in to temptation and kissed her.
“Maybe a few flowers and well-timed compliments—oy!” He made a little yelp when her elbow sneakily caught him in his ribs.
“You know perfectly well that there was more to it than that.”
