Page 19 of The Lyon Whisperer
A hot rush of awareness—of him, his powerful presence, even the spiced scent of his cologne—surged through her.
“I have a few things packed.”
At his slight scowl, she hastened to add, “My maid has instructions to oversee readying the rest of my things. She will see them delivered when I give her leave to do so. What with planning the wedding and all that entailed…” She left off with a shrug and hoped he did not read anything in her expression.
After a moment he nodded. “Amelia… I wanted to say, you look very beautiful today.”
His simple compliment warmed her to her toes. Her cheeks throbbed with heat.
“Thank you, my lord. You look very fetching yourself.”
He blinked in evident surprise. Before he could reply, however, someone tapped her shoulder.
She turned to find Nancy standing behind her, a porcelain basket hanging on her forearm.
“I have something for you,” she said with a warm smile, pulling Amelia aside. She reached inside the basket to peel back a brightly colored kitchen towel, revealing what looked to be a round loaf of crusty bread.
“I baked this for you—for good luck. It’s called a Holy Cross bun. Do you see the cross marking on the top of the loaf?”
“Oh, Nancy, how thoughtful of you. I do, yes. What does it mean?”
She grinned, flashing her signature dimples. “There are many different superstitions associated with it. Take your pick—some say the cross symbolizes the crucifixion, giving the bun healing properties. Some say the cross on the top allows fairies out of the dough, to ward off evil spirits. My favorite of all, and why I made it for you, dear Amelia, is the old wives’ tale which holds the cross bun brings good luck for an entire year and protects the household of the person who eats it.”
She reached in and pinched a piece of bread from the loaf, marring the beautiful bun. “Eat,” she commanded, pushing the bite toward Amelia.
Laughing, and fighting off tears once more, she allowed Nancy to stuff the bread into her mouth. She chewed. “Delicious,” she said when she’d finally swallowed, and hugged her friend. “Thank you, Nancy.”
“Everything’s going to be all right,” she whispered into Amelia’s ear.
“Why do you think so?” Amelia asked, desperate for a reason to believe.
“Because I saw the way he looked at you when your father led you down the aisle.”
Chapter Five
With mounting impatience,Chase stood beside the earl in the Marlborough mansion’s foyer. The two men exchanged awkward pleasantries as they waited for Amelia, his bride, to descend the grand staircase so that the two of them might get underway sometime this century.
The wedding guests had all left a good half hour prior, and that after a drawn-out breakfast. The day was growing late.
At last he heard voices coming from the top of the stairs. He and Fallsgate gazed up expectantly.
Amelia appeared on the landing, chatting amiably with a chamber maid who appeared to be red-faced from crying.
Good Lord.
His wife was like the Pied Piper of servants.
Hiswife. He’d married Lady Amelia Duval, having met her twice, with one of those times being a clandestine, forbidden rendezvous at his home in the middle of the night.
Instead of asking himself how he’d gotten himself into this situation, however, he felt an undeniable satisfaction at having done so, and if he was honest, not simply because he’d saved the estates buckets of money by marrying her.
There was something about Amelia that drew him.
He had a strong sense she did not feel the same draw toward him. He wondered how much of a problem that was going to present.
Fingertips brushing the railing, she glided down the stairs. She had changed out of her wedding dress and now wore a pretty sky-blue gown that frothed around her feet with every step.
A cool unaffected expression replaced the cheery smile she had for her maid.
