Page 81 of The Lyon Whisperer
He softened his expression with effort. “The man is not to be trusted. I will have your promise.”
“Very well, my lord. I shall endeavor never to speak with him again.”
Endeavor,she said.
It galled him, but it was past time he reined in his temper. They were on the verge of creating a scene. “As you have, apparently, danced all evening, you must be tired. I myself am exceedingly bored. It’s past time we call it an evening. I’ll give you a moment to say your goodbyes.”
Amelia stood besideher tall, forbidding husband, jostled by the many guests to her right and left awaiting their vehicles. She wore a bland smile while precariously close to tears. She was well and truly miserable.
On the cusp of Lord Tully’s caustic words, Chase had all but accused her of impropriety. Howcouldhe have done, and after the valiant effort on her part not to draw any undue attention to herself, too.
True, she had danced with Lord Tully—twice—but the alternative, dashing across the dance floor in a snit evidenced by all to get away from the man had not seemed a better choice by any means.
Not to mention Chase, with his innate sense of honor, would have felt compelled to question the smooth-talking earl, and who knew what might happen then? She’d read enough romantic novels to know just how easily a duel might ensue as a consequence of an altercation between two hot-headed males.
The sound of a man clearing his throat jarred Amelia from her thoughts.
She turned to see her father sidle up beside her.
He nodded at both her and Chase but lowered his voice for her ears only. “Amelia, my carriage is next to reach the front of the line. I wanted to say how pleased I was to see you and Lord Culver in attendance tonight.”
She blinked in surprise. “Thank you, Father.”
He shot a troubled gaze at Chase. “You are faring well at Warren House? Marriage suits you? Lord Culver’s not too hard on you?”
Too hard? Like accusing her of impropriety when she’d devoted her entire evening tonotstepping out of line?
But of course, she couldn’t say that. Besides, her father sounded truly concerned for her welfare, and she hated to put a damper on his efforts. The thought he cared whether or not she was happy in her marriage warmed her as nothing else could have tonight. Some of her dismal mood melted away.
“I am very well, sir. And you? I have missed you,” she added without thinking. Her father was not one for overt shows of affection.
The crowd shifted forward as another round of guests boarded their carriages.
She braced for her father’s brusque dismissal.
“And I you,” he said instead, his voice rusty. “The house is exceedingly quiet without you.”
With that, he bid her and Chase a hasty farewell and trotted for his carriage.
Amelia watched after him, staring long after his shiny lacquered vehicle lumbered off.
Perhaps something good had come of this evening after all.
“Here’s ours now, Amelia,” Chase said.
He took her elbow, and she slanted him a look. He no longer seemed quite so angry, not that he had any reason for being angry in the first place.
She sniffed and allowed him to hand her up into the carriage.
He joined her a moment later, rapping on the trap to tell the driver they were settled. The driver had left the oil lamps burning on low. Neither of them turned up the lamps, and they set off in virtual darkness.
Amelia stared out the small window as the carriage rolled slowly down Lord and Lady Colliers’ graveled drive.
She supposed she was being a mite unfair. She had outright refused to tell him what she and Lord Tully discussed. It occurred to her she might simply tell him what the earl had said…But no. She couldn’t.
It came down to pride, she realized. She knew the two of them were not a love match, and yet…
The way Tully described Chase’s motive for marrying her made perfect sense, and made her feel perfectly awful. Had Chase merely chosen her as one did low hanging fruit? If so, if he lied about finding her appealing, everything she’d seen as beautiful and magical between them seemed tawdry and calculated.
