Page 36 of The Rules of Matrimony (The Matchmaking Mamas #4)

Ian crumpled the letter in his hand. He dragged his gaze to his father’s bedchamber door, as if he could will him to be better, then looked down again at the ball of paper in his hand. Sir James was panicking. Their committee had been tallying vote predictions, and they weren’t even close to the majority. They had mere days to persuade the people. If they delayed, more lives would be unjustly lost—possibly for decades more.

Ian dragged his free hand over his jaw. He couldn’t abandon his family, but nor could he ignore this plight. He already had two men he employed copying the records from the Old Bailey, and the papers were piling up at his house.

He shook his head. It would have to be enough for now. He couldn’t leave when there was a doctor upstairs with his father, determining who knows what.

A doctor who had been up there long enough to make a proper diagnosis.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Ian hurried to his father’s bedchamber, anxious for news. He reached the doorway but did not cross the threshold. The doctor leaned over his father and checked his eyes, tested the use of his arms, and glanced down his throat. Father had woken a few short times yesterday but never when Ian was present.

That particular coincidence might have been divinely arranged.

Finally, the doctor rose to his full height, which did not even reach Ian’s shoulder. His expression, though, was as commanding as any Ian had met. “It’s a miracle you’re alive, Lord Kellen. Your heart is weak, but your will must be stronger. I’m giving you strict orders to stay in bed. You must continue to rest, or your health will easily succumb to the worst outcome imaginable.”

“I haven’t spent more than a day of my life in bed,” Father grumbled. His voice did not carry the same power it usually did, and his pallor matched the white of the pitcher on his bedside table.

The doctor chuckled. “This will take some getting used to, I imagine. Heed my advice all the same, Your Lordship. I must be off, as there is nothing more I can do. No need to see me out, Your Ladyship. I know the way.”

Ian’s father’s eyes set on him as the doctor passed by him in the doorway. Ian found himself holding his breath once more.

“What are you doing here?” Surprise laced every one of his father’s words.

Ian came into the room. “Visiting the sick.”

His father huffed. “Unless you’re here to announce your annulment, I don’t care to see you.”

“You don’t mean that,” Lady Kellen said, taking her husband’s hand.

“I do mean it.”

Mama shook her head. “You mustn’t upset yourself, dear.”

“It’s all right,” Ian interjected. “I will excuse myself for now. Maybe some rest will help him see things more clearly.” He likely should have kept that last part to himself and left before his father could stage a counterargument.

As soon as Ian rounded the corner, he sank against the wall. Relief spread through him. Father was alive. Seeing his eyes open and hearing his voice released a weight off Ian’s chest. The near-death experience hadn’t changed his father—no, that had been wishful thinking—but he was awake and that had to mean something. It felt oddly like a glimmer of a second chance, but Ian didn’t know if he could trust it. It would require him to see his father in a different light, and he wasn’t certain it was possible.

The good news was that it would allow him to help Sir James. Ian retired to his old bedchamber and spent the rest of his day reading and writing correspondence to the committee and wishing he were there to help. But even in these desires, he was easily distracted. He wished for the weight of Tiny on his lap and the sound of Amie moving about Oak End. He almost always knew what room she was in or, by her lingering scent, where she had just been. That he did not know her exact location now bothered him. She had written a note saying she would spend the day at his townhome and join them for dinner. Shouldn’t that suffice? Instead, he found it odd that she would not come sooner.

Ink pooled on his letter. “Dash it all.” He quickly blotted the paper. He wasn’t used to his mind wandering. He had important matters to see to. Time was running out. His maddening lack of self-discipline had to stop.

When the dinner hour came, he began to anticipate seeing Amie. Shaking his head and blowing out heavy breaths did not help. Despite all his self-talks, when she entered the drawing room, he was there eagerly waiting for her.

She looked very much the same. He’d seen her gown of choice several times, and her hair was styled similarly to other times. So why did his heart react like he was in a foot race? He went to her and thoughtlessly reached for her hand. Warmth traveled up his arm, but he didn’t let go. It was just a hand, and it wouldn’t hurt anything to hold it.

“Good, you’re here,” he muttered, when inside he was shouting it.

“Is your father any better?” she asked.

He gave a nod. “He is waking more and more, and the doctor thinks he has a chance to pull through.” He hadn’t realized he’d been waiting all day to tell her this.

“I am pleased to hear it.”

His feet moved nearer to her of their own accord. People who were having a private conversation generally stood close to each other, so it seemed perfectly justified. “I thought I would see you sooner.”

“I apologize if I was missed.”

“I never said I missed you,” he said quickly, inching ever closer to catch her vanilla perfume. “But it is true that you were missed.”

She blinked as if she did not understand him. Confound it, he didn’t understand himself. “But you’re here now, and that is what matters.”

“Oh? Perhaps I should stay away more often.”

He scowled. “Why would you do that?”

The beginnings of a smile touched her lips. “So you hurry to my side when you see me again.”

He took stock of his position, practically hovering over her, and swallowed. How had he let himself get so close to her? He cleared his throat and stepped back, affording her a bit more space. “How was your day?”

Her smile faltered. “Oh, uh, it was unexpected.”

His brow knitted together. “What do you mean?”

“I received a—”

His mother waltzed into the room, cutting Amie off. “Oh, Amie, you are here, and just the person I was hoping to find.”

Amie smiled, but he noticed it was forced. “Thank you for having me for dinner.”

“Why wouldn’t we have you?” Lady Kellen frowned. “You are family. I simply meant that I am in need of a favor from you.”

“I’m happy to help in any way I can,” Amie replied.

“My husband is awake again and is asking for you to read to him again.”

Ian felt as shocked as Amie looked.

Her hand went to her chest. “He asked for me? I mean, certainly. I will go to him now.”

Ian tugged on her hand before she went more than a step. Need she go this very minute? “You must eat first.” Besides, this idea sounded suspicious. Even if Father had not been openly mean to Amie and reserved the majority of his rudeness for Ian, it didn’t sit well.

Amie’s smiled turned more genuine at his concern. “I had a late lunch, and I’m not very hungry.”

“You’re sure?”

“You know how I enjoy reading.”

He did. He dropped his hand with great reluctance. “Very well. I will have a plate sent up in case you change your mind.”

“Thank you, Amie,” Lady Kellen said. “I have a good feeling about this. I think he’s warming to you.”

Ian wouldn’t have gone as far as that. His father likely desired a distraction while also wanting his wife to have a break from his side.

Amie looked up at Ian. “Will you find me before I leave tonight? I did hope to speak to you about something.”

Did it have to do with her unexpected day? He couldn’t help but wonder. “Certainly.”

She thanked him and disappeared from the room. At least he finally knew right where she was, and that alone was satisfying.

“Ian?”

Ian blinked and turned to his mother. “Yes?”

“I spoke to you just now, and you didn’t even hear me.”

She sounded more like herself, but there were still tired lines pressed around her eyes. “Forgive me, I was thinking about someone—I mean, something.”

Mama laughed. “Of course you were. Let’s eat our dinner so you will be free to join her later.”

He didn’t bother correcting his mother. She was happier believing that he was in love with Amie. And heaven knew that his mother deserved more happiness than ever. Despite all his fuss and obstinance against the subject, deep down, he knew love was exactly what he felt. The only thing holding him back was his lack of trust in himself. He was his father’s son, and hurting Amie was out of the question. He’d already been doing it without even intending to. It was hard to imagine himself capable of anything else.