Chapter Seven #4
“Castledon has agreed to protect Amelia. That’s all that matters now.”
“But to sentence our daughter to a loveless marriage, because she was a man’s victim…how is that right?” Beatrice paced to the opposite side of the room. “No woman should endure such a thing.”
A jagged blade of ice sank through his heart as he stared at his wife. He could almost hear her unfinished words: The way I did.
His wife hadn’t truly wanted to marry him; he’d known that.
When he’d offered for her nearly thirty years ago, she’d been shy and kind to him.
He wasn’t much of a catch, being a younger son.
Nor was he dashing or handsome like the other gentlemen.
He’d never been good at talking to women, and he’d bumbled his way through a courtship.
But no one else had offered for her, and eventually Beatrice had agreed to become his.
He’d thought he’d won her heart over the years. Now Henry wondered if she’d seen herself in Amelia’s position—trapped into a marriage she didn’t want.
“They might learn to love one another,” he offered.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so, Henry. He doesn’t want to love her. It wouldn’t surprise me if he put her on one of his estates and left her there to fend for herself.”
Again, he felt the cold chill of awareness, as if she were talking about herself.
He’d been an officer, responsible for the lives of so many.
War had torn him apart from Beatrice, and he’d ordered her to remain behind, to care for their daughters.
After he’d inherited his older brother’s title, he was expected to leave the army immediately.
Instead, he’d avoided his wife and daughters for a time, not wanting to be around them.
The nightmares of death and blood had haunted him, until he’d thought he was better off dead than to return home.
Eventually, he’d been forced to leave, but when he’d come back, the years of separation had driven a harsh wedge between himself and Beatrice.
Amelia’s words came back to him: Just try.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked suddenly. “Is there anything…that would help?”
She stopped pacing a moment and returned to stand before him. “I don’t know, Henry. I wanted a better start for her than we had.”
Henry straightened. “I never thought our marriage was a bad start or a mistake.” He didn’t know what had prompted him to speak, but perhaps it was time that he voiced a truth. “I was glad to marry you.”
She flushed suddenly. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
He moved in and slid an arm around her waist. “I wanted to marry you, from the first moment I saw you. Even if you didn’t want me.”
The shock in her eyes made him wonder if he should have said all of this, years earlier.
“I wanted you then, Beatrice,” he said in a low voice. “And I still do.”
ONE WEEK LATER
“It feels wrong to get married like this,” Amelia whispered. “Without Margaret.” Her older sisters, Victoria and Juliette, were here, but Margaret was still missing. Although her father had sent men to search, there was no trace of her.
Inside, her emotions were raw. Although the earl had agreed to wed her, he hadn’t seen or spoken to her since he’d acquired the special license. Then, too, she’d confined herself indoors, away from the gossip that cloaked the London ton.
Thankfully, Lord Lisford hadn’t returned. Supposedly he’d gone to stay at one of his northern estates, remaining out of the public eye. At least that was a blessing, not having to face him.
“I believe Margaret is all right,” Juliette said. “If she’s with Cain Sinclair, he’d move Heaven and earth to keep her safe.”
That much was true. The notorious Highlander didn’t play by the rules, and he wouldn’t hesitate to defend her against any harm.
“He’s in love with her,” Victoria added. “For as long as I can remember, he’s been there.”
Amelia knew it, but despite Margaret’s feelings, her sister would never wed a commoner. She had set her sights on a titled lord since she was ten years old. Prim and proper Margaret would never consider marrying anyone whose blood wasn’t as blue as the sea.
It should be Margaret marrying the earl. Not her.
Victoria held out a package wrapped in brown paper.
“I brought you something. It’s a wedding gift for tonight.
” She exchanged a glance with Juliette, and her sister’s mouth curved in a smile.
“Madame Benedict would be furious if she knew I held it back from the last delivery. She has dozens of orders, but without Mr. Sinclair to deliver them to the crofters, this may be the last of Aphrodite’s Unmentionables. ”
Although her sister had meant it as a present, the package reminded Amelia of Lady Sarah and the woman’s blackmail demands.
In the past few weeks, she’d done nothing at all to meet the woman’s demands.
She worried that Lady Sarah would make good on her threat, but thus far, she had not revealed their secret.
Before Amelia took the package, she asked her sisters, “Have either of you heard from Lady Sarah?”
Victoria exchanged a glance with both of them. “No. But I’ve told my husband about it. Jonathan sent her a note in return, with a warning.”
Amelia thought back to the first encounter she’d had with Lady Sarah.
Although they could easily have her arrested for blackmail, using the note as evidence, it would still bring out their involvement in Aphrodite’s Unmentionables.
“Before you do anything, I want to speak with her once more. There may be a way to gain her silence.” She wasn’t certain of how, but she intended to write to the woman and settle the matter.
“Let me know if you have any difficulties,” Victoria urged. Beneath her sister’s tone, she caught the warning, and Amelia promised she would.
“I think you should open Victoria’s gift,” Juliette said, changing the subject. “Go on. Let’s see the unmentionables. Are they terribly wicked?” The gleam in her sister’s eye suggested that they had to be.
I might not need them, Amelia thought to herself. Lord Castledon had already offered her the chance to wait before consummating their marriage. This marriage would protect her family’s name and prevent scandal from touching them. But there would be no love in it, only friendship.
The thought bothered her deeply, for she wanted a wedding night.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, when you share his bed,” Victoria assured her. “And if you wear this, Lord Castledon won’t be able to keep his eyes—or his hands—off you.”
“I’m not afraid,” Amelia lied. “It’s just that all of this was so unexpected.”
“Do you want to marry the earl?” Juliette asked, frowning suddenly.
“Yes.” She did, though she harbored no illusions about the sort of marriage they would have. “Though I don’t think he particularly wants to marry me.”
Juliette’s face softened. “You’re so wrong. I’ve seen the way he’s watched you over the years. He likes you a great deal.”
“As a companion, perhaps. Not a wife.”
“Men don’t know what they want,” Victoria pronounced. “Once he sees you in these unmentionables, every last thought will leave his brain.”
Amelia wasn’t certain. Even after the earl had kissed her, he’d gone silent, as if she’d broken an unspoken rule. And yet…she wanted to marry this man. She wanted to see if there was any way of learning who he truly was, when he wasn’t grieving for his wife.
“I’ll try,” she managed, taking the dark blue lacy garment from her sister. When she touched the silk chemise meant to be worn beneath her corset, she tried to imagine what he would say if he did see it. Would he want to kiss her or touch her? Or would he retreat again?
For a moment, she allowed herself to daydream of what it would be like to feel his kiss again, to experience the weight of his body against hers. Hard upon soft, muscled flesh to womanly curves…
“You will enjoy your wedding night,” Victoria said, but Amelia hardly heard any of her sisters’ attempts to cheer her up. Instead, she put on her shoes and braced herself for what lay ahead.