Chapter Fourteen
Lord Noah Peterson
I sat back on the horsehair seat in the earl’s carriage across from Amelia and Oliver. The events in the drawing room still stunned me. I should have known the duchess would take things into her own hands. Her reasons cut into my soul. Her death would affect us all.
Amelia had been silent since we’d left the drawing room.
Her head was turned away as she stared out the window into the blustery landscape, the brim of her bonnet hiding her face from view.
The rain continued to pelt down on the roof of the carriage.
The duke’s London home was only a block away from Amelia’s home, but the weather had made it impossible for us to walk to the ducal mansion.
“I must say, today has been full of surprises. Oliver proposed, and you accepted.” I tapped my cane on the roof, and the carriage jerked while the horses pulled the heavy equipage. She was understandingly upset over the duchess’s declaration. Amelia had known the woman her entire life.
“Only because Lady Gwendolyn forced him into it,” Amelia said in a tight voice.
Oliver colored the slightest bit at her chastisement. “I told you I would marry you. I just needed to find the right time.”
“You’ve had thirteen years. How much more time did you need?” Amelia looked at him, her stubborn chin lifted. She’d been shocked by the turn of events; I could read the struggle in her eyes.
“Come now, Amelia, no matter how it came about, the end result is the same.” I shifted in my seat, gripping the strap while the carriage merged into traffic.
I was privy to both of their situations.
While the proposal happened at the duchess’s urging, both parties had already come to the same conclusion.
“I beg to differ, Noah. I...it was humiliating.” She frowned, abject misery bringing her mouth down. I sympathized with her struggle.
“Then why did you say yes?” Oliver bit out. He’d been put on the spot, and although he’d committed to marrying her, he still had voiced his doubts.
“Because I was afraid if I said no, you’d never ask me again.” She glared at him. “You promised to marry me, and then you dragged your heels.”
“I gave you my word, Amelia, and I am insulted you would doubt it.” Oliver crossed his arms and gripped his hands into fists. “I just needed more time.”
“So you said before. Is there someone else you fancy?” she asked, meeting my regard before returning her attention to Oliver.
He shot a glance in my direction, his cheeks flushing. “No, there is no other woman for me than you, Amelia.”
For a brief second, I wasn’t sure if she’d bend until one slender hand reached over and clasped Oliver’s. “I am sorry if I doubted you. It has been a very trying week for me and after what your grandmother disclosed for you as well.”
He curled his fingers around her gloved ones. “I wasn’t even aware of the extent of her illness until she begged off last night.”
“When you said she missed dinner with the Queen, I didn’t believe it. I’m sorry.” Amelia sniffled, resting her head on Oliver’s shoulder. “She mentioned a month might be too long. I think we should move up the date. To Sunday.”
“That’s five days from now,” I said, glancing from one to the other.
“Yes, it is. Time is of the essence,” Oliver said with a sigh, his skin turning an ashen hue. The topic of conversation reminded me of Sally and the sad state of her health. While physically fine, she suffered from bouts of melancholy. She’d died too young.
“Lady Gwendolyn is still with us. Do not mourn her before her passing,” I said, reaching out and clasping their combined hands. Heat infiltrated my glove, a reminder of life in a time of impending death.
“You are right, every moment is a blessing,” Amelia said.
I released my grip and leaned back in my seat. Every day was a struggle, but I didn’t wish to focus on myself.
The carriage came to a halt, and the equipage rocked with the weight of the groomsman jumping down from his perch.
I gathered up my hat and cane and winced as the door was opened, bringing with it a brisk breeze.
Oliver exited first and, holding out his hand, took Amelia’s.
I followed them out, watching as the couple ran through the rain to the front door.
A sense of emptiness settled into my chest, and I had a mad urge to climb back in the carriage and be taken anywhere but home.
I envied their happiness, yet I had spurned any chance of a future with Amelia or any other lady.
I had my boys and was surrounded by family that cared for me.
Any physical needs I’d have could be easily assuaged.
Oliver still owed me a tryst, and I would hold him to it.
Guilt, another emotion that often rivaled my grief, nearly overwhelmed me.
Amelia was engaged to Oliver. She and I had shared a memorable episode of mutual passion, but we could never experience more.
It was the height of hypocrisy, but my affair with Oliver had no such limitations.
My body hummed just thinking about the intimacies we’d share.
I tamped down the excitement. Once Amelia’s parents were informed of the engagement, they’d insist on a celebration.
I predicted he’d be convinced to stay for dinner.
At least I would be in the company of two people who were not only entertaining but also very tempting.
Perhaps I should beg off for the night on the pretext of seeing my children and leaving the celebration for their immediate family.
The butler took our outerwear, the material damp from the inclement weather.
Amelia turned to look at me, her cheeks a pretty pink.
Moisture dotted her skin, giving her an ethereal glow.
Worry lines appeared between her brows, a tentative smile playing over her lips.
She was nervous about telling her family. Very curious.
“Are the earl and countess in?” I asked the butler.
“Yes, my lord, in the drawing room.”
“Are you ready?” Oliver said, holding out his arm to Amelia.
“I believe so.” She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.
I followed the two of them down the hallway lined with bucolic scenes depicted in watercolors to the cream sitting room, her mother’s favorite.
The house was silent, which meant Ethan was still napping.
For a young child, he had a way of filling up the mansion with his presence.
The click of our heels on the parquet floor seemed to add to the tension. It seemed silly for there to be any tension. The wedding was a good thing. Except the circumstances surrounding it were not.
The butler opened the door, and Amelia and Oliver slipped inside. I hesitated at the door, making up my mind to bow out on this important moment. “I need to check on the boys,” I said in an encouraging whisper.
For a split second, I expected her to argue, but she nodded instead. “Kiss my beloved nephews for me.”
Her gaze drifted to my mouth, and memories flooded back.
“You promised me a game of chess at the club,” Oliver said, glancing from me to Amelia. His cheeks were a telling pink, and a spark of need cut into my groin. The couple made an alluring picture, each one having their own appeal.
“You mustn’t stay at the club all night. Your grandmother is ill,” Amelia chastised. “Besides, Mother will insist you stay for supper.”
The flush on his cheeks flamed brighter. “You are correct. Perhaps we should stay at my house and play. Amelia gave me a handsome set of chessmen as a gift.”
“Perhaps we should.” Blood pulsated in my groin, my cock stirring at the thought of what would transpire once we were alone.
“It is most unfair that I can’t join you,” Amelia said, her lower lip coming out in her displeasure.
The urge to dip my head and taste her sweet mouth brought me up short. Both of them were bombarding my senses, and I needed to keep my wits about me.
“Once you’re my duchess, you won’t have such restrictions,” Oliver said.
“Exactly. Now go break the good news to your parents,” I said. With a brief smile, I turned on my heel and ascended the stairs to the nursery. This was their moment to shine, and I would only get in the way.