Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Milo escorted Amelia toward the ballroom a few nights later, the satisfaction of several days and nights of good sex lingering between them. Not even another lecture of the perils of loveless matches from his father could sour his good mood.
He and Amelia were a good match in bed. It would be no hardship at all to give her the children she wanted. That he wanted, too.
He glanced at her as they were announced, proud of the woman he’d married.
She was soft in all the right ways, poised in the most trying of circumstances, and tonight she was…
so beautiful his heart skipped a beat. There was a glow about her as she gazed upon the room and heard the sound of a harp being plucked.
She glanced his way and smiled and he was bathed in warmth.
He led her into the room, the sound of her skirts softly rustling in his ears, her fingers light on his arm and knew he had done well for himself.
Father and the duchess were occupied on the far side of the room, and they inclined their heads to acknowledge their arrival. But did not gesture them closer.
That suited Milo perfectly. They were at the ball to make an impression of their own, not reignite a pointless argument about love and marriage. Their marriage would do very well based on desire alone.
They headed toward the nearest couple, and Milo made the introductions. “Mr. and Mrs. Dunstan, have you had the honor of meeting my wife?”
“Not formally,” Mrs. Dunstan gushed.
Amelia inclined her head. “We chanced upon each other this afternoon on the stairs, and I’m sure Mrs. Dunstan and I will become great friends one day soon,” Amelia promised.
Mrs. Dunstan beamed. “I agree. We both adore children and had so much to talk about.”
“I, however, am eagerly awaiting an introduction,” Mr. Dunstan announced, reaching for Amelia’s hand. Dunstan, a wealthy local landowner, raised it toward his lips.
Dunstan kissed the back of Amelia’s glove but from where Milo stood, his glance fell to her bosom—and stayed there rather too long.
Amelia reclaimed her hand. “A pleasure to meet you, sir,” she said politely.
Dunstan’s smile grew sly. “And for me, too. I look forward to improving our acquaintance tonight.”
“I believe you promised your wife two dances tonight?” she murmured. “I always look forward to seeing happily married couples take a turn about the floor together.”
Mrs. Dunstan looked at her husband with complete surprise, though. And Mr. Dunstan’s smile grew pained as he was neatly trapped into agreeing that he would.
Milo smothered a laugh…because his toes remembered only too well what happened when one danced with Mrs. Dunstan. She was enthusiastic, to say the least.
“And then we will dance, Lady Chatham,” Dunstan drawled, his smirk quickly back in place.
Amelia linked her arm through Milo’s immediately. “I’m afraid my dance card has been claimed by this handsome devil.”
Milo was taken back by the claim, and by her description of him, too. Handsome devil? It was such an unexpected claim, that he could only nod in response.
“Surely not every dance,” Dunstan protested.
“Oh, leave them be, Dunstan. Can you not see they only have eyes from each other,” Mrs. Dunstan announced.
She tapped her husband with her fan. “They are newlyweds, Dunstan, and obviously firmly devoted already. They don’t want anyone coming between them tonight.
They will dance together and likely slip away to be alone. ”
Thanks to Amelia’s soft smile at the suggestion, he had trouble tearing his gaze away from her face. Perhaps they would leave the ball early together. He wanted to dance with Amelia but didn’t like the idea of her in another man’s arms afterward.
Amelia’s heightened color reminded him how desperate she could be for lovemaking when they were alone.
“Perhaps,” Milo murmured. “If you will excuse us.”
“I’m sure we will talk again when he can bear to be parted from you, my dear.” Mrs. Dunstan wiggled her fingers in farewell as they went on their way.
Amelia’s grip on his arm softened. “A gentleman should never flirt with a new bride right in front of his own wife, or at all. I hope she stomps on his toes more than once and very hard.”
Milo smothered a laugh. He’d seen Amelia poised in the face of disapproval, but had never seen anyone hide disgust for a man so well.
His first wife had danced with Dunstan a great deal at parties such as this, and they had whispered together often, stopping when he or Mrs. Dunstan drew near.
He’d found no evidence of an affair and yet he still wondered.
Dunstan set his teeth on edge to this day.
Amelia’s distrust of overtures of friendship from the man would serve their marriage well.
They circulated around the room together, Milo introducing her to family friends and neighbors, mostly the men who’d been out shooting and drinking that day.
To one and all, Amelia showed no particular eagerness to know them better.
She was poised, polite, a little distant but agreeable.
He slowly lost his concern that she would become overwhelmed or charmed by another man, the way his first wife had done.
They separated, at the duchess’ insistence, Amelia remaining by the duchess’ side while Milo was sent away, left free to circulate unhindered among the guests.
Once guests had him alone, his decision to take a second wife was remarked upon by the ladies in the room, and by the men considered scoundrels, they expressed regret that her temperament appeared so retiring.
Only Milo knew the truth. When alone with him, Amelia was a surprisingly energetic and passionate woman. He kept that discovery to himself, though, and the pleasure that knowledge brought kept him warm still, and just a little distracted.
He headed toward his father and his brother-in-law Whitfield, determined to mend the breach. “I think the evening is going very well, don’t you?”
“Well, you’re in a good mood tonight,” Whitfield teased.
“’Tis the smile of a newly married man,” he answered, but Father only scowled and turned away. His behavior continued to disappoint, but Milo would win his support for Amelia’s sake. He moved to stand beside Whitfield. “Did you moderate your happiness to appease Father?”
“No, because it would never have been possible. I adore your sister more and more each day.”
“’Tis only right to love a Westfall,” Milo reminded him, but then frowned at what he’d said.
He would be the exception, never to know true love.
He shook off the regret and spotted his father moving away from him.
“I never thought Papa would be so stubborn about my second marriage, but he has not taken it well, has he?”
“Your father once caught your sister and me kissing before our marriage,” Whitfield whispered. “Ghastly moment. He didn’t talk to me for weeks, except to discuss the wedding breakfast.”
“It’s not quite the same situation,” Milo mused, rubbing his jaw.
“No, but it is an example of how he reacts to change in the family. He does not like us to surprise him. Some things take him more time to adjust to. He took a whole year to admit his feelings for Gillian. You are his heir, and he has always had the highest expectations for your future.”
Milo sighed as he caught sight of Amelia through the crowd. She kept glancing toward the musicians, but he thought her interest was in the harpist most of all. He felt her yearning from across the room and regretted that he had not sent for her harp.
Tomorrow, he would send a servant to fetch it.
Their eyes met, and she looked away first. He hoped she was blushing again, thinking of him and what they might do together later. “Do you think Papa’s opinion would change if he were informed that he had interrupted us making love the other afternoon?”
Whitfield choked, and after a moment, he drew close to whisper, “I thought yours was to be a chaste marriage. Your father certainly seems to think it would be.”
“No,” Milo answered with a slight smirk. “Amelia wishes for children that I am happy to provide her with.”
“Devil take it. No wonder you cannot take your eyes off the woman tonight.”
“Merely protecting my interests. Scoundrels abound,” he said, catching sight of Dunstan admiring Amelia from afar.
He snatched a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and watched Dunstan, curious to see whether he would approach Amelia again and what she might do to rebuff him.
Unfortunately, another of his sisters arrived at that moment. Thankfully, Becca came tonight on her husband’s arm, but she quickly abandoned him to speak with the duchess and seemed overjoyed to meet Amelia.
Rafferty had been Milo’s friend for a long time and had become a brother-in-law only recently. Rafferty’s interest had been known by everyone in the family but Becca. Rafferty’s marriage to her had been another shock for the family, since Becca had openly loathed the man for years.
He thrust out his hand to Rafferty when the man joined him and Whitfield. “It is good to see you again.”
“And you,” he answered. Rafferty drew close. “The sisters are buzzing over the news of your unexpected marriage. Congratulations. I assume we are too late for the grand announcement?”
“They do tend to buzz, and yes, you did miss the announcement.”
“I like your choice,” Rafferty said, nodding.
“Well, that’s all I need then,” Milo drawled, rolling his eyes and obtaining a fresh glass from a passing footman. “Your approval has always meant the world to me, but you haven’t even met her to know what you are saying.”
Whitfield laughed and excused himself when Jessica beckoned him to join her across the room.
Rafferty remained by his side, surveying the guests before them. “Of course I know her.”
Milo frowned. “Since when?”
“Since our childhood, fool.”
“Oh,” he murmured, puzzled. But then his confusion cleared. “Oh, yes, of course.”