Page 9 of The Rules of Matrimony (The Matchmaking Mamas #4)

Sitting beside Amie at the theater was entirely distracting. No matter how Ian tried, he couldn’t focus on the play. His gaze kept straying to her. She was not at all what he had expected. It was as true now as it had been from the beginning, but he thought he would be able to predict her a little bit more by now.

For starters, her clothing had changed. Her gowns were now fitted in just the right places, the colors warm and inviting. Her hair had changed too. Where were the tufts of curls spilling out at strange angles? And her wide smile that she so freely bore while watching the play below them gave contest to her dewy eyes.

The truth was she was a far prettier woman than he felt comfortable marrying. Blast. It was a little too late to realize that, wasn’t it?

Matters were progressing in other realms as well. Father had thrown a royal tantrum and kept Ian up the entire night after their dinner party, but Ian had won out in the end only because his father had called his bluff. He did not think his son would go through with the marriage.

But all the eyes of the audience had wandered their way at least once already tonight. Word had traveled past Chestervale and through all of London. So no matter how pretty Amie was, he wasn’t backing down. He was getting married.

At least the musical had gone without exception. Minus Amie’s humming along. Ian coughed into his hand to hide his laugh. She was rather naive. It was charming. Almost . He squashed the thought before he became carried away.

His parents’ gazes suddenly seared the back of his neck. Father and Mother had joined them in the family box, and it was a good reminder that he did not want a relationship like they had. A one-sided love was undesirable and heartbreaking. His mother deserved better. His father deserved nothing. They had had an arranged marriage, too, but supposedly had come to love each other in the beginning. A lot of good it had done them. Just as Ian’s grandfather hadn’t stayed faithful to his wife, neither had his father or his father’s brother, for that matter. The men in Ian’s family were glowing examples of a lack of familial bonding. He had no plans to perpetuate the pattern for future generations.

In fact, he hoped that after his marriage, he wouldn’t have a reason to see his father again.

Amie laughed at the antics on stage. It was not a quiet laugh but a full laugh. Ian couldn’t help smiling at her reaction. Seeing life through her eyes had to be an enchanting experience. But he was Lord Grumpy, as she had so plainly and correctly dubbed him, and he was content just the way he was. He defied anyone—especially his father—to try to change him.

When intermission came, his parents took a walk to stretch their legs. He’d thought he and Amie would never be free of them. It was the perfect opportunity to speak privately with her.

“Are you enjoying the play?” he asked.

Her eyes lit up. “I adore it!”

“Good. I will have to arrange for you to see another after the wedding.” By herself, of course, since they would not be meshing their lives together. He cleared his throat. “Everything is in order for the ceremony day after tomorrow. Will you be ready by then?”

Her unguarded expression suddenly closed. “Yes. My aunt has generously seen to my wedding clothes.”

Ah, so her aunt and uncle were providing her new wardrobe. He had left them money for wedding arrangements, but he still wondered why they hadn’t generously seen to caring for her before their engagement. “Is there anything you need? No trouble with your cousin?”

“I thank you for asking. He is moping about the house and refusing to speak with anyone, including me.”

“I am glad to see he has given up. Will you tell me if there is anything else you require? If you say the word, I shall see to it.”

She lowered her gaze to her hands, where she started absently pulling at the tips of her gloves. “About the wedding ...”

“Yes?”

“Rule number one ...” Her voice drifted, and she looked up at him expectantly.

He finished the rule in his head: no touching . “What about it?”

“The ceremony.”

Ah, she was referring to the marriage kiss. The Anglican church preferred a more solemn ceremony, without displays of affection, but it was not unheard of for couples in love to do so anyway. “We’ll keep to the contract. No need to put on a show for anyone.”

Amie nodded but didn’t look at him. He hoped he had brought her a measure of relief. He would speak with the rector performing the ceremony and make certain there wasn’t a mention of anything of the sort. He did not want anyone to be confused, especially his wife. She deserved to be treated with utmost respect.

This was part of the reason he’d planned a secret wedding, not even inviting his closest friends, with the exception of Paul, who had agreed to act as a witness. There was enough gossip bubbling through the ton over his engagement, and he did not care for random spectators to join the wedding party or crowd the streets to gawk at them. This would be an extremely private affair. The perfect beginning to their marriage of convenience.

Perfect, in the loosest sense. An air of awkwardness hovered between him and Amie, and he had no doubt that it would worsen by the time they were wed.

He cleared his throat. “I will send my carriage for you and your trunks in the morning. The ceremony will begin at half past nine.”

She gave the smallest nod. “I won’t be late.”

“Excellent,” he said, satisfied with his plans. He had been thorough, and he had no intention of anything going wrong. Getting married at all was trouble enough.