Page 25 of 1797 Club 2nd Epilogue Collection (The 1797 Club #11)

A melia was still in bed late the next morning, wrapped only in sheets wrinkled by passion and love, when she heard Theresa at her door.

“Your Grace?”

She lifted her head from the pillow and tugged the coverlet over her breasts. Hugh was gone, it seemed, though she had no idea of how long.

“Yes, Theresa?” she called out.

The maid entered the room. “I’m sorry to disturb, Your Grace, but it’s nearly eleven.”

Now Amelia bolted straight up. “It is? Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”

“The duke insisted we let you rest as long as you required, or at least until his deliveries for you began to arrive.” With that Theresa set a vase of beautiful roses at the side of her bed and then moved to open the curtains and let the sunshine in.

Amelia stared. “Oh they’re beautiful. Pink, so not from our garden.”

“No. Nor are the dozen or so other bouquets that are downstairs waiting for you,” Theresa said with a sly little smile .

“A dozen others!” Amelia gasped.

“He included this note for you with the instruction to deliver it with one bouquet to wake you.” Theresa handed over the note. “I’ll leave you to it while I go prepare your bath in the other room.”

Amelia blinked and unfolded the note Hugh had written. It was in his firm, even hand that she had come to know since their marriage, though they’d never been parted long enough to require he write her directly.

Amelia,

If I had wooed you properly, I would have not been able to stop myself from sending you flowers every time you granted me time in your presence.

Today I make up for that, at least in part.

And while I know you just spent last night with me at the theatre, and certainly Society will talk, I hope you might join me at the National Gallery today at two.

There is an exhibit I think you would enjoy and I’d love to share it with you.

Yours Always,

H.

She reread the note a few times before she set it on the side table and got out of the bed.

She slipped on the dressing gown that was crumpled on the floor from the previous night when he’d put it on to stoke the fire after the first time he’d made love to her and hustled into her dressing rooms. The tub was already full and fragrant with honeysuckle, which she assumed was from their garden.

She’d mentioned to Hugh how much she liked the fragrance when they walked together the day before .

Had he remembered and said that her bath should be scented like it?

“Why didn’t Hugh bring me this note and the flowers himself?” she asked.

Theresa set down the towels she was holding on the bench by the tub and faced her. “His Grace left at around nine this morning.”

Amelia blinked. “Oh.”

“But the carriage will ferry you to the museum later today, if I understand correctly. Would you like to get in?”

Amelia sighed and shrugged from Hugh’s dressing gown. She let Theresa help her into the water and slouched down, smoothing a bar of soap between her hands as she did so.

“How many bouquets did you say he sent?”

“I think there were a dozen more downstairs,” Theresa said. “Not just roses, but all matter of others. Every flower you’ve ever liked, I think.”

Amelia smiled and slid a little deeper into the warm water. “He’s spoiling me.”

“Well, you deserve to the be spoiled. I’ve never heard of a man wooing his wife, but here we are.”

Amelia’s brow wrinkled. “Wooing me. That was the same phrase he used in his note. Do you think that’s what he’s doing?”

Theresa shrugged and then poured water over Amelia’s hair to wash it. “He acts like a man twitterpated with a lady, trying to do everything to impress and win her.”

“But he’s already won me and he never does anything but impress me more and more.” She shook her head. “I know he holds a great deal of guilt about the lies he told, the hurt that was caused at our beginning, but I want to focus on the future. Our wonderful future.”

Theresa smiled. “If a man wants to pamper you, Your Grace, I’d say let him.”

“Hmmmm.” She thought about that for a moment. “Does anyone in the house know where he went? Could I send a message to him? ”

“I’m certain you could,” Theresa said. “Shall I find out and collect your letter writing materials?”

“Please.”

Her maid rinsed her hair and then left the room.

Amelia continued to wash, even as she was distracted by thoughts of Hugh.

Yes, it was nice to be lavished with attention, but she wanted their marriage to be equal.

Wanted him to know that he was as adored as he made her feel. It seemed wooing would go both ways.

And she wouldn’t have much time to prepare for it.

H ugh was nervous as he returned home at two, rather than met Amelia at the museum as he’d planned. That was at her request, one that had been sent to him at his club. Had she not liked the flowers? Was it too much?

He gave over his things to Murphy and then peeked into the parlors as he walked. He expected them to be laden with flowers, but there were none. More nervousness rose in him.

But when he entered his bedchamber to find her, he also found the flowers. They were arranged all around the room, including a few petals scattered across the floor and on the neatly made bed.

“Amelia?” he called out.

She entered from the antechamber and he caught his breath. She was wearing the same nightgown she had donned on their wedding night. Almost sheer lace encased her gorgeous breasts and fawn silk fell around her curves.

She moved toward him. “I’m here.”

“Yes, I-I see that,” he choked out. Then he blinked. “I hope I didn’t do something wrong when I-”

“No,” she interrupted. “Not wrong. The flowers are wonderful. The theatre was wonderful. But I realized something and I want to ask you a question. Are you wooing me?”

He smiled. “You uncover my intentions so easily. Yes. I know I failed you during the time before we wed. I wanted to make it up to you. To court you, even if it’s backward.”

Her expression had softened and he could see she wasn’t upset as he feared.

She held out her hands and came to him, kissing his palms gently.

“I don’t need to be courted. Oh, it’s lovely.

But I’m yours. And you are mine. Forever.

So if there is wooing to be done, I think I should have an equal chance to do it. ”

He drew back a little. “You woo me?”

“Oh yes. Though my way of doing it is a little more scandalous.”

“If you had met me in that nightgown before we were to wed, I would have taken you to Gretna Green that night. I would have been entirely wooed, my dear. Under your spell as I have been and will be for the rest of our lives.”

She cupped his cheeks. “Perhaps we could attend the museum tomorrow,” she whispered.

He leaned down and claimed her lips, knowing he already had her heart, perfectly happy that she had his, too. “I think that’s a very good idea, Amelia. Very, very good.”