Page 28 of The Rules of Matrimony (The Matchmaking Mamas #4)

For three days, Amie and Ian lived like strangers in the same house. It was worse than when they’d first arrived at Oak End, because they had grown closer while Ian’s parents had been there. With them gone, there was no need to pretend to be madly in love, no reason for Ian to hide in the library with her or for them to sleep in the same room.

She returned to her long walks, visits to the neighbors, reading to Gwen, whose leg was not healing well, and putting the finishing touches on Mama’s room. The door had been painted just that morning and would require drying time, which meant their extra room would be completed on the morrow. Not certain what project would occupy her time next, she picked up her sewing again, plucking at threads while her mind wandered to Ian.

If he was not riding, he was squirreling away in his office with Tiny as his companion of choice. She refused to be jealous of a dog—a dog he wouldn’t even have if she hadn’t rescued the creature. But not once had Ian asked for her to act as his scribe, though she had offered at least twice. He anxiously awaited his letter from Sir James, and she expected him to whisk away to London the moment it arrived. They were back to their original plan, one where they lived separate lives. She never brought up the annulment again. With Ian so set against his father, she knew it would come to naught.

Loneliness like she’d never known settled over her. After a taste of Ian’s time and attention, she craved more of it. She never knew it possible to ache for the company of someone who was only a room away. But she had learned to be happy on her own before and would discipline herself to do so again.

She rubbed her eyes, tired of the sewing project she’d started. She needed a fictional solution from the library. She set aside her sewing, thinking of what she should read. Something completely immersive. Books were meant for people who had problems and were smart enough to want to escape them. She might not be intelligent enough to not overthink a marriage of convenience, but she knew her limits otherwise.

She glanced at the closed door of Ian’s study on her way to the library, wondering if he had gleaned any new information that could aid his efforts to change their criminal law. Or was his sole objective to hide from her? Was there nothing in her company that enticed him to leave his work for even a minute?

Likely not. After all, she was useless, pathetic, penniless ... Lord Kellen’s words came easily to mind, as they had over and over since he’d departed.

For heaven’s sake, someone give her a book! With a quick tug on the handle, she thrust the door open into the library. It stuck halfway, coming to an abrupt halt.

“Oof.”

Amie sucked in her breath at the sound of the very human noise and peered cautiously around the door. Ian stood on the other side, holding his nose.

“Ian?” She ducked into the room. “Fiddlesticks. I didn’t see you.”

“That much is obvious.” He pulled a handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and dabbed at his red nose. The cloth came away with a small smear of blood.

“Good heavens. I’m dreadfully sorry.” She grabbed his arm. “Come sit down before you get blood everywhere.” He let her pull him to the sofa, and they took a seat together. “Does it hurt much? I feel terrible.”

“It was an accident, Amie. It’s not like I haven’t bloodied my nose before. My friend Tom has a fist like a rock. The door was nothing in comparison.”

“That’s hardly comforting.” Sunlight filtered through the window and gave her a good look at Ian. “Your nose appears straight. I don’t think it’s broken.”

“We have hard heads in our family, literally and figuratively.”

“It’s no excuse for barging into the library like I did.”

He raised his brows. “I underestimated your passion for books.”

“No one should stand between us,” she quipped.

He chuckled, the sound dancing in her ears like music. Maybe it had been worth bruising his nose for a moment of friendly banter.

He shifted and tipped his head back. “So what will you read today, then?”

“Something riveting.”

“Oh? Are you feeling restless?”

“You have no idea.”

He tilted his head and eyed her. “What’s bothering you?”

It was her turn to raise her brows. “I thought we weren’t talking about anything but the weather.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” he said playfully. “So you grew so bored, you tried to kill me?”

She shrugged. “That seems to be the summation of it.”

He stared at her for a long moment. “I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot on my mind. I shouldn’t have ignored you.”

Amie looked down at her hands. “You’re busy.”

He checked the handkerchief, and when there was no blood, he removed it from his face. “Not so busy that I have permission to be rude.”

His apology eased some of the ache inside her. “You can ease your guilt by telling me about your work. What have you learned?” She was stalling. She wanted to continue to sit by his side. She didn’t care what they spoke about as long as they were talking again.

“What have I learned?” He sighed. “Not enough. Mail is slow, and I’ve read through the materials I have a dozen times or more. I’ve listed all the names of constituents whom I hope to persuade and have started penning more letters.”

“Without the help of your secretary? For shame.” She already knew the answer but couldn’t resist.

“I thought you might appreciate some space from me. I keep promising your independence, then encroaching on it.”

Independence was the last thing on her mind these days. Her hand itched from its spot on the sofa beside him. What she really wanted was for Ian to reach over and take it in his, to reassure her with his touch. She felt like a sparrow hunting for another spare crumb of his attention. Or was it his affection she was hungering for?

She purposefully moved her hand to her lap, burying her silly, indulgent thoughts as she did. “I don’t mind your presence, Ian,” she admitted, but then she hurried to reassure him that she wasn’t expecting anything from it. “But I know your work is important. I admire your efforts.”

He didn’t seem to dwell on her admission. “When lives are at stake, I do feel an urgency to act. I’m eager to get to London, but I haven’t wanted to return too early and alert my father. I don’t want to fuel his anger.”

The dreaded but inevitable talk of leaving. “When will you go?”

His mouth formed a grim line. “I planned to tell you at dinner, Amie. I plan to leave in the morning.”

She had survived his departure before, and she would do so again, but her stomach knotted all the same. “Will you write to me and tell me the outcome? As secluded as I am here, it will take time for news to reach me naturally.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else but stopped himself. “My hand is not as fine as yours, but I will write.”

A smile touched her lips. “I should like that. Thank you.”

Someone cleared their throat behind them. It was the butler.

“What is it, Mr. Hamburg?” Ian said.

“Mrs. Tyler has arrived, asking to see her daughter, Lady Reynolds.”

Amie’s gaze whipped to Ian’s. “My mother is here?”

His brow furrowed. “Did you send for her?”

“No, did you?”

“No.” He turned to the butler. “Please, show her into the drawing room.” He shoved his handkerchief into a pocket inside his jacket and stood. “Am I presentable enough for your mother?”

Amie stood too. “Your nose is a little red, but I doubt she will notice. I can’t imagine why she has come.”

“I suppose we will find out.” He held his arm out to her. “Shall we, then? We bumbled our act on one set of parents, but perhaps we can convince your mother.”

“Do they have books on the subject?” She cast her gaze to the shelves. “Perhaps we should study up.”

He yanked back his arm. “Did you forget rule number three?”

She bit back a laugh. “I did, didn’t I?” She crossed her hand over her heart. “Absolutely no studying romance.”

“That’s the spirit.” He extended his arm again. “Ready?”

She accepted his arm, extended only out of good manners, but didn’t know how ready she was. Pretending to be in love with Ian was feeling far more real with every passing day. Frankly, that knowledge scared her.