Page 47 of The Earl's Bluestocking Bride
“I didn’t bring the agreement.” He hadn’t been certain what the outcome of their conversation would be. “I will sign both copies later today and have one returned to you.”
“Thank you. Please ensure it is taken directly to me and does not fall into either my mother’s or father’s hands.”
“You have my word.” Considering all that she’d risked to make this proposal, the least he could do was protect her privacy.
“I’ll show you out.” She marched to the door and held it open for him, then escorted him down the stairs and out of the house.
It was only as he seated himself in his carriage that he realized what this meant. He was, for all intents and purposes, betrothed.
Not even two months ago, that thought would have been enough to drive him to the Regent to drink more than his fair share of brandy, but now, it made him smile. At the very least, being married to Miss Amelia Hart would not be boring.
Once he arrived home, he retired to his office and penned a letter to Ashford. The duke had returned to his country estate, and Andrew had promised to keep him up-to-date on his search for a wife. He skimmed over the details of their betrothal, keeping it sufficiently vague and ensuring Ashford knew that it wasn’t official yet.
At the end of the missive, he paused. Then, after a long hesitation, added a postscript.
P.S. I have a query for Lady Emma. Theoretically, how would I go about ensuring my future wife knows that I value her for more than her dowry?
CHAPTER 12
“You seem rather anxious,”Lady Drake observed as their carriage stopped outside the Harts’ residence.
Andrew adjusted his cravat, which felt far too tight around his throat. “It’s not every day that I introduce my mother to the woman I intend to marry.”
She tilted her head. “You’re sure about this?”
“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “You’ll understand when you meet her. Wait here. I’ll collect Miss and Mrs. Hart.”
He exited the carriage and hurried up the stairs with a sense of haste most would probably consider unbefitting of an earl. Tonight, he wasn’t just an earl. He was a man.
The doors were already open, and as he stepped into their frame, his gaze landed on the two Hart women standing in the center of the foyer. They both looked up. Mrs. Hart beamed at him, but it was Amelia’s gentler smile that turned him inside out.
He bowed. “Good evening, ladies. Your conveyance is here.”
Mrs. Hart thanked him effusively, and he took a quick moment to study their attire. She wore a gown of deep blue and a matching headpiece, while her daughter was clad in afrilly white contraption similar to the one she’d had on the evening they met.
She caught him looking at it and scowled. Apparently, she knew the dress wasn’t flattering. That said, he’d challenge anyone to tell him she looked poorly when her expressions were so lively and humor was constantly flickering across her face.
Ugly gown or not, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“Are you ready to depart?” he asked.
“Yes, my lord.” Mrs. Hart breezed past him, not pausing to allow him to take her arm.
He turned to Amelia instead. “May I?”
She allowed him to escort her outside at a more measured pace. “I received the papers you sent over.”
His gaze remained forward. “Was everything to your liking?”
“It was. Thank you for indulging me with the agreement. I know it is… unconventional.”
“Perhaps.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “But everything about our arrangement is unconventional, so that’s fitting.”
She huffed a quiet laugh. “I believe you’ll find I’m a somewhat unconventional person. I hope that won’t be a problem.”
“Not at all.” In fact, he looked forward to learning more about the way she viewed the world.
They reached the carriage just as his footman was assisting Mrs. Hart inside. The footman stepped aside to allow Andrew to do the same for Miss Hart. The mothers were seated next to each other, so he found himself alongside Amelia as they trundled toward Studholme House.
