Page 38 of The Rules of Matrimony (The Matchmaking Mamas #4)

Ian set his hand on Amie’s shoulder, and she stopped reading. He smiled down at her and pointed to his sleeping father. He put his finger to his lips and motioned to the door with his hand. They did not stop in the corridor but continued to the stairs. They walked side by side as they descended. She really wished he would offer his arm. After the day she’d had, she wanted to lean on him.

“Thank you for reading to my father,” Ian said. “We can speak in the library, if you’d like.”

“Thank you.” The library sounded perfectly private, which she needed for what she was about to tell him.

“How did the reading go? Was my father on his best behavior?”

“He wasn’t on his worst behavior,” she ventured.

Ian halted on the stairs. “Blast. I knew he was up to something. What did he say to you?”

His voice was loud enough to wake his father. “Nothing new.”

“What does that mean?”

She continued down the stairs without him. “It means he does not dote on his only daughter-in-law, but on a positive note, we know that my reading voice bores him to sleep.”

Ian shook his head and caught up with her, his long legs making short work of the distance. “You are not to see him again unless I am with you.”

“He is all bluster and no harm.”

“He is a monster.”

At the base of the stairs, it was Amie’s turn to stop. Her voice low, she asked, “Why do you say that? I know he disapproves of me, but that isn’t the most monstrous attribute. I have plenty of relatives who have disliked Mama and me.”

Ian’s hand went to his hip. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“But you have to a good reason for despising him as you do.”

“It’s a long story.”

She hesitated long enough to muster her courage. “Will you tell me?”

Ian stared at her for a moment, indecision flashing behind his eyes. He dropped his shoulders, sighed, and motioned her to the library. Silently, she followed him, wondering if this was the end of their conversation. Rosewood shelves lined the room, teeming with books. It was cozier than she’d hoped. A large Bible stood on display on a pedestal in the corner, and a family portrait hung above the mantel. A small fire flickered behind a decorative grate, with a sofa and stout sofa table with thick legs placed before it.

Ian motioned her to sit but did not take a seat himself. He folded his hands across his chest and, without preamble, said, “My father is a philanderer.”

She raised her brow but said nothing.

He reached back and scratched his head. “It is a common, accepted sin amongst most of the ton , but they have not watched my mother suffer for years because of it.”

“I had no idea.”

“I first learned of it while away at school. One the boys at Eton had heard the rumors about my father and thought to harass me about it. I wanted to defend my father, but the clues of his behavior became apparent to my innocent mind in a way I had not seen before. I lost all respect for him that night and could never look at him the same again. You might not deem him a beast for such, but his cold, unfeeling nature does not lend me to think otherwise.”

The cozy room suddenly grew quite chilly. So this was why Ian hated his father. “Oh, Ian. I’m sorry.”

“Now you know why I cannot abide him and why I will not let him say anything against you. You must promise me that you will heed my warning and not visit his room without my presence.”

She nodded without hesitation. As a woman, it was easy for her to have compassion for Lady Kellen. Both genders committed adultery, but when the woman was the victim, she had little right to do anything about it.

Ian sat on the stout sofa table and rested his arms on his legs. “Now, what is it you wanted to speak to me about?”

She’d dreaded this moment all day, but it had to be done. She fingered the thick ribbon of her dress just below her ribcage, pulling out the hidden folded paper she’d concealed there. “I received this just before breakfast. I thought I could come up with a solution on my own, but I admit defeat and must humbly apologize.” She extended it to him. She knew telling him would be impossible, so he would have to read it himself.

“How cryptic.” Ian accepted the paper and unfolded it.

She put her hands together and brought the steepled fingers to her lips. She wasn’t praying, but perhaps she should be. Yes, she definitely should be.

Ian began reading aloud, “My dearest Amie.” He paused and looked up at her. “Are you trying to make me jealous?”

She almost smiled, but this was not an amusing matter. “Can you not tell it’s in a woman’s hand? It’s from my mother.”

Ian grinned. “I could. Perhaps my humor was ill-timed. I can see whatever is contained here has you worried. Forgive me.” He cleared his throat and began again.

“I hope you’ve arrived in London safely. You must find time to rest, as I know you will sacrifice yourself to care for everyone around you. You have never been very good at setting limits on yourself, and your haggard look is not your best.”

“You can skip that paragraph,” Amie said. She’d forgotten about the introduction. “Read further down.”

Ian chuckled and picked up on the next paragraph.

“I do hope Lord Kellen did not die. What terrible timing so soon after the wedding to have to wear black. Bad luck, indeed.”

“Skip that part too,” Amie said quickly. She leaned forward and found the correct starting place and pointed to it. He looked up, their faces much too close. She sat back down and swallowed. “The third paragraph, if you please.”

He nodded.

“You had done such a marvelous job making over my bedchamber that I thought to surprise you and make some improvements to yours.”

“Is this the right part?” he asked.

She brought her fingers back to her mouth. “I’m afraid so.”

He began again in his deep reading voice.

“It was a simpler project than the drawing room and one I was sure you would trust me to do without your help. But when having the furniture moved so the room could be painted, I stumbled across your diary.”

Ian lifted his eyes to meet hers. “Your diary?”

She gave a solemn nod. “Keep reading.”

“Are you sure you want me to?”

“I must insist.”

He bent back over the letter. She squeezed her eyes shut, anticipating what was coming next.

“You have always hidden your diary under the mattress, so I was not at all surprised. I admit to reading it a time or two, but as you are not a regular writer, I gave up long ago. This time, however, what I read was purely accidental, so please, do not be angry with me. A paper fell to the ground, and on it was a sort of oath of conduct. It was written in a male hand and signed by you.”

She opened her eyes in time to witness Ian’s deep swallow.

“The oath contained three alarming details that quite shocked me and are not at all in order with a typical marital arrangement. I have raised you to be innocent and naive, so it is hard for me to say this, but I must be frank. Amie, dear, I do believe that your marriage is a hoax.

“I have already written to your uncle, begging him to employ a lawyer and hasten an annulment. Fear not, my child, I will be on the next coach to London. Together we will see this right.”

Ian lowered the letter to his lap and stared at her. “So this is why you did not come over today?”

She pursed her lips and nodded.

His tongue created a temporary bulge in the side of his cheek. “I see. And instead of telling me straightaway, you read a book to my father?”

She nodded again. It seemed all that she was capable of doing.

“I’ve never met another woman like you, Amie. Trouble seems to follow you about, wherever you go.”

She lowered her eyes to her hands now knotted together. “Indeed.”

“You are fortunate that I am your husband.”

She lifted her gaze. “I am?”

“You are. I will take responsibility for this. We will simply tell your mother and uncle, if need be, that the letter is a joke. I did not sign it, and there were no witnesses, so nothing will come of it.”

“But what if I say something by mistake? They will know it’s a lie.”

Ian tipped his head back and groaned. “It’s no matter. This is because of my foolishness, not yours. There was never meant to be a written document, and it was because of my own weakness that I put it to writing to begin with.”

His weakness? What did he mean by that? “But it is my fault that we are found out. If your father hears about it ...” She could not finish.

“He won’t. He is currently confined to his bed, and Mama is not ready for him to have visitors. The only news he will receive is what we bring him.”

She had been so afraid to bring this matter to Ian’s attention and had stalled all day without any answers. Instead of yelling at her, he assumed full responsibility, like some heroic knight. This rather awkward trial hadn’t pushed them farther apart, as she feared, but had made her care all the more for him. “You are too kind, Ian, but I still do not see how we will sort this.”

“It will call for a little Rebel acting, I believe. We will have to disperse with the rules, so they know there is no truth to the paper. You didn’t add any other recent accounts to your diary, did you?”

She shook her head. “I haven’t written a single line since last Christmas.”

He frowned. “I would have thought there were some significant events you might have wanted to remember.”

He almost sounded hurt. She supposed there was their wedding and all their kissing, but right now, that seemed an impossible memory to ever forget. But that he cared about what she put in her diary at all entertained her. A small smile crept out, but she quickly covered it with a cough.

“Did you write anything down?” she asked.

“Me?” Ian blinked. “No, I don’t keep a journal.”

Amie smiled. “Then, I suppose our children will never have anything to remember us by.”

Ian’s eyes widened.

Hers widened, too, when she realized what she’d said. “Which won’t be a problem,” she said hurriedly, “because of the rules.”

He lowered his gaze and laughed under his breath. “We’re forgetting the rules, remember? They’ve been pretty useless from the beginning.”

She didn’t think he meant to forget them forever, but this was certainly a step in the right direction. “Thank you, Ian.”

“For disposing of the rules? I thought you liked them.”

“No, I hate the rules. The thank-you is for not getting mad about my mother.”

“Oh, I’m mad about it, but not mad at you. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He paused for a moment. “Wait, you hate the rules?”

She had said that, hadn’t she? She stood suddenly, her courage for the night fleeing. “It’s getting late. I really should return home and get some sleep.”

He stood too. “You’re avoiding my question.”

“Am I? Yes, I suppose I am.” A sliver of a smile formed on her lips—one she had not thought possible a half hour ago. “Good night, Ian.”

“Wait, I will see you to the door.”

There was a look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t an expression she had seen on him before. Should she be nervous? “Very well.”

He held out his arm to her, and she took it. A second later, he put his other hand on hers. She glanced at it and then up at him.

“For practice,” he said. “So we are ready when your mother comes.”

Is that what this was? Well, she wouldn’t complain. “We are out of practice. We might need a lot of it.”

He nodded, the blue of his eyes darkening and softening all at once. “My thoughts exactly.”

When they reached the front door, Ian called for the carriage to be prepared. “Now that my father is turning a corner, I will likely return to the townhouse to sleep. I have a few things I want to finish here, so do not wait up for me.”

“After the long day I’ve had, I don’t think I could if I tried.” Though the thought of him staying nearer brought another wave of comfort to her.

“Good,” he said. “I hope to spend some time in the morning reviewing records from the Old Bailey before I return here. We need to find as many unjust cases as we can to use as evidence to convince the representatives. We have a few days left to sway at least a dozen key people. I could use the help of a secretary.” He raised an expectant brow.

Did he really want to spend time with her? “What did you do with Lord Grumpy?”

Ian chuckled. “I don’t think you should be alone after today. If your mother or your uncle shows up, I should be there. I imagine your mother won’t be far behind her letter.”

Amie sighed inwardly. So he didn’t want to just be with her. “Since I make an excellent secretary, I will gladly accept. And I will be most grateful if I am not alone when my relatives arrive. I can handle Mama, but ...” Her voice waned, fatigue settling over her just thinking about her uncle and cousin.

“I understand. I have met them, remember? They’re partially to blame for our marriage, you know. I couldn’t bear leaving you with them.”

The way he looked at her and the emphasis on his last words sent a wave of pleasure through her limbs. “Despite all your fuss to the contrary, you’re a good man, Lord Reynolds.”

“I do try, Lady Reynolds.”

She smiled at his flirtatious tone. “It shows.”

“Does it?” He grinned. “I generally try to hide my halo. I would hate to appear a braggart.”

She laughed. “I said you were good, but an angel?” Her brows lifted in question.

Ian shrugged. “Not all of them look this good in a cravat.”

She bit her lip but couldn’t hold back her escaping grin. “You certainly fooled me.”

He leaned impossibly close. “My secret is out, and the lady did not even swoon.”

She pushed lightly on his chest. “Hardly. It takes more than an angel to tempt me.” She didn’t know where those words came from or how they dared escape her mouth.

Ian’s lips twitched. “Is that so? You have a taste for wicked men?”

She cleared her throat. “I wouldn’t say wicked . I prefer mostly good with the occasional dark mood to keep things interesting.” Warmth bathed her cheeks as she heard herself speak. She was turning into her mother and blurting all sorts of ridiculous pronouncements. Her ramblings seemed to amuse Ian all the more. The familiar sparks lit between them as his gaze heated. He didn’t pull away, as he usually did. She sensed he lingered by her side for the same reason she wanted him to.

It was hard to remember the obstacles between them when the moment felt so perfectly right.

He felt perfectly right.

If he asked her again what she wanted in life, she was certain she would not hesitate this time. Being with him was what she wanted most in the world.