Page 13 of The Ruin of Miss Amelia Burrowes (The Matchmaker’s Ball #4)

“Such a spate of weddings we’re having this Season.” Lady Celinda Graham had stopped to chat with her as she headed down the receiving line at Amelia’s wedding breakfast. “I do hope Lord Finley and I will be one of them eventually. Papa is being difficult. He’s taken the gentleman in dislike and nothing I say—or how I say it—seems to make a jot of difference.”

“I truly hope your father will come around to your way of thinking, Celinda.” Amelia glanced down the line, but her guest need not be in a hurry. “I would wish for you the same happiness I have with Lord Ainsley.”

“Oh, you can call him Nathan to me, Amelia. We are cousins. Kate and I grew up together, practically, so no need to be formal. Both of you are married now.” Celinda pulled a woebegone face. “I certainly hope that trend continues in the family.”

There had been a flurry of weddings, to be sure. Last week Lord Haversham had married Kate via special license. Nathan had protested, but his friend had told him he must strike while the iron was hot but before he got burned with it. He and Kate were ever squabbling, but Nathan assured her that was their particular way of courtship.

Thank goodness she and Nathan had no such peculiarities. The worst of theirs had been the interminable wait to see if Lady Carrington would make good on her promise. Amelia had shuddered to think what Nathan would do if she did not. The scandal of bringing Mary Adams and her son to Town and revealing Jonathan Carrington’s true indiscretion might be more than she could take, even if it did vindicate her. She had prayed the matter would end today, and they could begin their life together without worry. Today, she’d wanted nothing more than to be married and tonight take her place in Nathan’s bed at last.

However, now her wedding day was finally here, and a glance about the almost-empty room where the breakfast had been set filled Amelia with dismay. She glanced up at Nathan, by her side, a trickle of dread beginning to form.

Their wedding had been a small affair at St. Georges this morning, with only her parents and sisters, Kate, and Marcus, and his sister in attendance. An air of unreality had washed over her as she’d said her vows to Nathan. And the first time he’d called her Lady Ainsley, she’d ignored him, not realizing he was addressing her.

Happiness had slowly seeped into her, bringing with it all the fulfillment she’d dreamed of since she’d first met him. At present, however, as she stood in the receiving line, with only a handful of people other than those who’d attended the wedding making their way toward them, wishing them happy, the joy began to pall.

Nathan had insisted on inviting half the ton to the breakfast, to assure himself that Lady Carrington’s efforts had been successful, that she would be accepted by the people who would decree whether or not their children would be outcasts because of the rumors and lies told about their mother. When she glanced up at him, his mouth was drawn into a pucker she’d come to learn meant he was dangerously displeased and likely to take immediate action about something—in this case, most likely, Lady Carrington. The lady’s labors on their behalf seemed not to have borne fruit, to judge from the turnout. Still, something must be done or her sisters’ outlooks for next Season were as bleak as they’d ever been.

“Shall we mingle with our guests, my love?” Amelia smoothed her new blue-striped silk gown, one of the extraordinary number of gowns she’d acquired recently. There was much she would need to get used to in her new life.

“I would prefer to meet with a single guest,” Nathan grumbled, but took her hand good-naturedly, “but she does not seem to be in attendance.”

“Will you truly bring Mary and her son here to force her hand?” The more Amelia thought about that, the less she liked it, even if it cleared her own name.

“I am prepared to do so.” He put his arm around her. “Although I know you dislike the idea. I suppose we could come up with another plan for wooing the ton . Perhaps our friends can help devise a way to convince Society that your reputation was ruined in error, although people usually need very strong proof to change their minds. Which leads us right back to Mary.”

“True. As I doubt any other proof exists.” They headed toward Amelia’s parents, who were speaking with Lord and Lady Haversham.

“Well, I suspect it does, but only I will ever know of its existence and only after it no longer exists.”

Still pondering that enigmatic statement, Amelia greeted her guests, making small talk about the feast spread out in the room around them, but all the while highly aware of Nathan beside her. In just a little bit, he’d promised they could slip away to their apartments and finally be alone. Despite the disappointment of the many missing guests, she would always remember their wedding day as the most wonderful of her life. Because she and Nathan would be together forever.

“And now if you will excuse us, Mr. and Mrs. Burrowes, Lord and Lady Haversham,” he bowed and grasped Amelia’s arm, “I must finish showing Lady Ainsley the rest of the house. We’ve been so busy settling her things in here and preparing for the wedding that I haven’t had the chance to acquaint her with everything that is now her domain.”

Her parents bowed and moved off to speak with Lord and Lady Ivor, but a strangled sound from Lord Haversham drew Amelia’s attention to him and his new wife. His face had that pinched look about it, as if he were trying not to laugh. Kate seemed to be biting the inside of her mouth and studiously avoiding her husband’s gaze.

“Perhaps you could show us as well, Nathan?” His sister grinned up at him, mischief snapping in her eyes. “I daresay there are things about the house I have never seen.”

“And will have to continue to be ignorant of, my love.” Her husband took her hand. “I believe they are about to play a waltz.” A peculiar light blazed in his eyes. “You would not disappoint me, would you?”

“Of course not, Haversham. You know how much I love a waltz, especially as it is a dance for married couples.” Kate gazed into his face, oblivious to the rest of them. “Another time, brother?”

“Of course, my dear.” Nathan exchanged a look with his friend. “Best of luck to you, Marcus.”

“And to you as well.” Grinning, Lord Haversham took his wife’s arm and led her to the area where a few couples were about to commence the dance.

Nathan seized her arm. “Let us make our escape before Kate decides she’d rather devil us than dance with her husband.” Swiftly, he led her out of the ballroom, down a corridor and up the stairs, finally arriving at the viscountess’s suite of rooms. Her rooms now.

“Your maid is here, ready to assist you in any way.” He dipped his head and kissed her, waves of that lovely heat his touch always brought coursing through her. “I will see you shortly.”

He slipped further down the corridor to his suite, and Amelia smiled as she sped inside her chamber. At last, the waiting was over.

* * * *

Despite the summer’s day outside, a fire blazed in Amelia’s bedroom, taking the slight chill from the room, though it did nothing to allay the sudden nervousness that assailed her as soon as her maid left. She’d been wishing for this moment longer than most brides, and now that it was upon her, she might fly to pieces. No longer a lady in the bloom of her youth, but a mature woman with plump curves, she’d neglected to consider that her body would soon be on display as never before. What if he didn’t like what he saw? The week before last they’d celebrated her twenty-ninth birthday, a time when some women were almost past their childbearing years. What if she was too old to bear Nathan’s children? If she could not give him an heir, what would they do? Why had they not discussed any of these things before they married?

She lay back in the bed, her hair fanning out over the pillow, resisting the urge to pull the covers over her face and hide. This was her long-awaited wedding night, and she was determined to enjoy it, no matter what. She would think of all those things another time.

The door that connected her suite to the viscount’s rooms opened, and Nathan entered, dressed in a blue silk banyan with a gold leaf print, carrying two glasses of champagne.

Her mouth dried instantly as she took in his superb form, for the robe divulged as much as it concealed. The soft silk draped elegantly over his wide shoulders, revealing their true shape rather than the usual square cut of his jacket. Although tied at the waist, the garment moved seductively as he walked across the floor, giving her tantalizing glimpses of what lay beneath—a flash of his strong calves, a show of muscular thighs, and a shadowy glimpse of something above them both…and suddenly the room had become much too warm.

“Here, my love.” He handed her a cool glass, and she seized it with shaking fingers. “Let us toast our marriage.” Gazing deeply into her eyes, he raised his glass. “May we live long, love well, and enjoy true happiness always.” They touched their glasses together but then, instead of drinking, he seized her head and brought her lips to his.

As ever when they kissed, Amelia’s pulse pounded, her lips warmed, and her body tingled. This time, however, with all of him so very close, and only a thin piece of fabric between her skin and his, a terrible ache formed deep within her, at her very core. Like a giant spring being wound tighter and tighter every time he thrust his tongue into her mouth. She moaned and twisted, wishing she could get rid of the champagne and wrap her arms around the body so temptingly close.

Either Nathan had the same idea or had somehow read her thoughts, for he pulled his lips away from hers—ever so reluctantly—then grasped her glass and plucked it from her fingers. “Drink a bit of this, sweetheart. You’ll be glad of it.”

She nodded, and he put the glass to her lips, letting her take tiny sips, careful not to spill it on her. The tart, refreshing wine seemed to clear her head, making her sit up straighter, shake her hair until it rippled down her back, and lower the sheet until her shoulders were bare.

He’d turned to put the glasses on a table, and when he turned back, he stopped, his gaze fastened on her naked skin. “Amelia, dear Lord, but you are beautiful.” Slowly, he slid his hands down her neck, over her shoulders, until he pushed the sheet away, and she allowed it to drop to her waist. His ragged breath sounded loudly in the still room. “I see I misspoke, my love. You are exquisite.”

Catching his excitement, Amelia pulled the belt of his robe until it slithered to the floor then boldly reached up to push it off his shoulders, as strong and broad as she’d suspected. They gave way to a lean, well-muscled chest that tapered to a small waist. The smooth skin invited her touch, and she ran her hand, first cautiously then more boldly, from shoulder to waist. Lower than that was still hidden by the bed, but not for long.

“You do know what we will do here, don’t you, Amelia?” His quiet voice broke the silence. “If you do not, I can explain it.”

“Oh, no. I do.” Unwavering, she met his hot gaze. “I have known for some time.” That knowledge had been burning inside her for much too long without being put to use.

His eyes widened for an instant, and he paused.

Lord, what must he think of that answer? She hurried on. “My mother explained it to me when I was betrothed to Lord Carrington.”

His brows rose then he nodded. “Then can you find room in that bed for me?”

Smiling, she scooted over and pulled back the covers. “Gladly, my lord.”

He slid in next to her and turned on his side to face her. With a firm hand, he gripped her waist, pulling her to him until their bodies truly touched at every point, and she ached for more. “Then by all means, let us begin at last.”