Page 43 of The Rules of Matrimony (The Matchmaking Mamas #4)

Amie had stood rigidly staring at the library door after Ian had left her. It had felt like Papa had died all over again. Lost and alone, she’d taken the carriage back to their townhome and found Mama in the drawing room, embroidering a coin purse, oblivious to the heartache staring at her from the doorway.

“Amie?” Mama finally set the coin purse aside and stood. “Amie, you do not look well at all.”

“I’m returning to Oak End straightaway.”

“Oh? Has something happened?”

Her throat constricted, and the careful words cut as they escaped. “My husband has duties he must attend to that do not concern me. It is better for me to be out of his way.” There. It sounded reasonable and not with any traces of madness her mother might misconstrue.

“I will gather my things. We can leave first thing in the morning.” Mama reached down and picked up her embroidery.

“I am leaving now, Mama,” Amie explained, keeping her voice impossibly even. “You must stay here and travel with the trunks and Edna. We can meet at the inn. I’m certain Lord Reynolds will arrange everything. I must go on ahead before I do something foolish and try to stay behind.” She couldn’t travel with Mama. She wanted to have a good hard cry without her mother jumping to unnecessary conclusions. After yesterday, there was no taking any chances.

Before Mama could object, Amie backed out of the room and hurried to gather a small overnight bag. Soon, she would be away from here. Away from Ian. And then she could let her heart mourn and heal for good.

Not ten minutes later, she climbed down the front steps of Ian’s townhouse with a parting glance at a place that had quickly become more than walls and a roof to her. Just as she tore her eyes from the three stories of off-white brick, the front door opened, and Edna stepped out.

“Excuse me, Your Ladyship.” Edna hedged.

“What is it?”

Her usually talkative maid gnawed at her bottom lip before she blurted out her piece. “I haven’t the courage to thank His Lordship again, so I ask ye please, if you would do it for me.”

“Thank him?” Amie blinked in surprise.

The maid’s eyes filled with tears. “Ever since he rescued me from the gallows and gave me a place ’ere, me sisters and I ’ave ’ad plenty to eat. Now, with me sisters working in the kitchens and all of us under the same roof, our ’appiness overwhelms me, and I ’ave to express it.” A tear escaped, and she swiped at it, leaving a trace of flour on one cheek.

Amie’s hand went to her mouth. “Forgive me for being so bold, but, Edna, are you the servant who was caught thieving?”

The maid dipped her head and shamefully nodded. “His Lordship told me not to tell anyone of my crimes or his service, but I cannot keep quiet any longer.”

Amie kept her hand over her wide mouth. Ian seemed baffled by her own efforts to help her neighbors and the people around her, but he was the same—better even. He was so incredibly good and did not even realize it.

Amie took Edna’s hand. “Thank you for having the courage to show your gratitude.” Her voice wobbled, and she forced a quick goodbye. Somehow, the short conversation enlarged the ache inside her, the throbbing in her chest threatening to erupt.

Ian had saved this young lady, and he had saved Amie, but would he ever choose to rescue himself from his fears and hurt?

Amie would wait as many years as it took, but she wouldn’t do it here. She couldn’t endure it. She rushed to the waiting carriage and instructed the driver to not spare the horses.

Not an hour into her journey, her tears had already saturated her handkerchief. A thickness in the air permeated the open window, pulling her from her sorrow. She stuck her head out, seeing an angry storm brewing above her. Her heart sank. Why now? She remembered all too well the last storm she’d survived in a carriage, and the sky had not looked half so ominous then.

She took several long, steadying breaths. If they were lucky, they would outride it. If she were to be an independent woman, she had to learn to endure whatever weather came her way. Before the second hour passed, a dark cloud consumed Amie’s carriage, pelting it with an angry staccato of rain. The storm was here. There would be no outriding it. Was it too much to hope that there wouldn’t be any lightning or thun—

Before her thought was fully finished, a flash of light filled every inch of the inside of the carriage, and she choked on her scream before it ever left her mouth.

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Ian rode his horse as fast he dared through the crowded streets to his townhome, the rain growing in strength the farther he went. A footman took his horse’s reins as he dove inside the house. He shed his jacket and took the stairs two at a time, eager to see Amie. He knocked once and burst into her room. Empty.

The library. She had to be in the library.

He ran down the stairs, whirled around the corner, and threw the door open. Empty.

Where was she? He jogged the short distance to the drawing room and froze at the door at the sight of Mrs. Tyler with her embroidery in her hands.

“Good day, Mrs. Tyler. Have you seen Amie?”

Mrs. Tyler nodded without looking up from her stitchery. “She’s gone.”

“On a walk?” his eyes flashed to the window, where the rivulets of rain trailed down the glass.

“In the carriage.”

Perhaps his horse was not yet put away, and he could meet her at her destination. “To where?”

“To Oak End.”

He clutched the door handle. “To Oak End! When did she leave? And why aren’t you with her?”

Mrs. Tyler finally looked up from her sewing. “It’s been nigh to two hours. I am to stay here with you.”

“With me?”

She smiled. “That was Amie’s plan.”

Oh, joy. Was this her way of punishing him?

“She left a message with me for you.”

“Where is it?”

“Right here,” she said, tapping her head. “‘Dear Lord Grumpy.’ Now, I questioned the address, but she said it was an affectionate name you liked, and who was I to argue with a lover’s nickname?”

Embarrassment singed his ears, and he waved his hands. “Proceed, please.”

“If you insist. ‘Dear Lord Grumpy, good luck with your business. Do not miss me too much, because I do not hope to see you until you have sorted matters with your father.’”

“And?”

“That is all she said, I’m afraid.”

“Blast.” He raked a hand down his face.

“Pardon?”

“Excuse my language.” He backed away from the door. “The business she speaks of, it’s time sensitive. I’ll take my leave.” He rubbed his temples and stumbled into the corridor and toward his office. In the long hours of research on the Bloody Code, had he learned nothing? Not even the lesson to hold your dear ones close and do your best to live a good life?

He set his hands on his desk and leaned into them. Nothing blurred his vision, but his surroundings were mere shadows to his frenzied mind. The vote was tomorrow. If he left now to find Amie, he’d never make it. An entire nation depended on the outcome of the vote. Amie was just one person.

But she was also everything to him.

He groaned, wishing he could undo this morning and have a second chance to say all the right words. He thought of Edna and the fear in her eyes when she’d been caught thieving and then of all the people who would never have a second chance at life, let alone a chance to love. Could he abandon them?

A low rumble sounded in the distance.

Thunder.

His head jerked up.

Amie. He could still hear her quiet sobs in her closet on the night of that first storm they’d spent together.

Changing the world was his dream.

Loving Amie was something he’d never planned.

But there was no question now of what he had to do.