Page 18 of The Lyon Whisperer
Following the ceremony,the wedding party relocated from the chapel to the manicured gardens to partake in a celebratory breakfast.
A large white tent had been erected, beneath which sat banquet tables covered with white linen cloth, and adorned with elegant floral bouquets, sparkling crystal glasses, and silver cutlery polished to perfection.
Her father served the finest champagne, and food enough to satisfy an army.
Amelia smiled and nodded, feigning interest in the conversations taking place around her.
Lady Culver, Lady Harriet, and Margaret compared notes on their respective modistes. Her father listened as Viscount Culver raved over Tattersall’s current selection of horse flesh. Further down the table, Lady Georgina, Nancy, and Charlotte shared what looked to be a lively discussion.
Beside her, Chase, her husband, ate his breakfast in silence, his table manners elegant and efficient. She stared at her plate and finally opted to move the food around in the hopes no one would remark on her lack of appetite.
She was married. Actually married. Soon she would depart her father’s home, never to live under its roof again.
In a way, the idea of moving came as a relief. She loved her father. As a child, she had practically worshipped him. But, over the years she came to see he did not hold her in the same esteem.Disappointedseemed the most apt description for his feelings toward her. At least she would no longer have to live with never meeting his high standards no matter how hard she tried.
“You’re very quiet, Amelia,” Chase commented in a low voice.
She offered him a polite smile. “I could say the same of you.”
He eyed her plate meaningfully. “Ah, yes, but I have been eating. Perhaps the cake will be more to your liking.”
Gerald, one of the footmen, approached. Amelia realized everyone else had finished their meals.
She gestured for him to take her dish with a grateful smile.
Chase watched the interchange with an arched brow.
“I wasn’t hungry,” she said, defensive, assuming he disliked seeing food go to waste.
In truth, she hated the practice herself. When some hapless beast or fowl gave its life for her dining pleasure, disregarding the animal’s sacrifice seemed unconscionably ungrateful.
A corner of his well-shaped mouth curled up slightly, and she found her gaze drawn to the small movement. “I was merely noting yet another of your father’s servants who seems to dote on you, lady wife.”
She blinked, taken aback by hearing him call herwife. “I have no notion of what you mean.”
He inclined his head and made no effort to explain.
She wondered if that would be the hallmark of their marriage.
Theirmarriage. She did not feel any different, and yet, several hours ago, on her father’s arm, she had made the brief journey down the aisle to where Chase awaited her.
He had looked so devastatingly handsome in his formal wedding attire. The perfectly pressed, black superfine, not a speck of lint in sight. His bright white shirt and simply styled cravat emphasized the hard line of his freshly shaven jaw and vital cast of his complexion.
She recalled the way conversation had ceased as the wedding guests gazed on the two of them. Every one of her friends’ eyes had glinted with moisture, surprising her. They all knew this was no love match.
Even her father had worn an indulgent, misty smile, the same one he had worn when he knocked on her chamber door less than two weeks ago, her mother’s wedding gown cradled in his arms.
“I’ve sent for your seamstress, Amelia, to assure the perfect fit,” he’d said, causing her heart to squeeze in her chest.
Barely any alterations had been necessary. Wearing her mother’s gown today was perhaps the most bittersweet element to this emotionally charged day. For some reason, she’d always imagined wearing it on her wedding day—not that she and her father had ever discussed the notion—but in her dreams, she married for love.
Lord Culver, herhusband,touched her briefly on the elbow, drawing her attention to him.
“I assume you are packed and ready to depart?”
Amelia’s tongue darted out to dampen her lower lip.
His dark eyes followed the motion before his unblinking gaze returned to meet hers.
