Page 72 of The Earl's Bluestocking Bride
She nodded. It wasn’t as if there was anyone else she’d tell.
He rubbed his jaw and shifted his head from side to side, stretching his neck. “I’m worried about my ability to provide for you, Mother, and Kate.”
The confession rushed from him on a single breath.
“Why?” she asked softly.
He shot her a look that made it clear he thought the answer was obvious. “I was careless with money once before, and we lost almost everything because of that. I’m afraid of making the same foolish mistake. You all deserve better.”
An ache formed in Amelia’s throat. Feeling awkward, she reached out and touched his forearm.
“I’ve never thought you foolish.” She kept her gaze locked on his as the candlelight played across his features, highlighting them with gold and shadows. “You have a kind heart, and you trusted someone who let you down. Being kind and trusting isn’t a shortcoming.”
He scoffed.
“It’s not,” she said firmly. “But if you’re truly concerned, you know my father can help.”
He stared down into his glass. “I’ve already sought his advice, and I’ve made plans to shift my estate into the management of his personal man of business.”
She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “Then you’re already doing plenty to ensure that history doesn’t repeat.”
He didn’t respond, and she could see doubt etched in the lines of his face. In the dimness, the splotches beneath his eyes appeared darker, and she was struck by the unusual urge to wrap her arms around him and comfort him.
Finally, he raised his eyes. “How can you trust me not to lose your dowry when I’ve proven myself unable to hold on to money?”
Her heart thudded rapidly, and she searched her mind for the right answer, determined not to say the wrong thing and make this worse.
Carefully, she slid her hand into his free one. “Even when I didn’t know you well, I trusted you to keep your word with regard to our agreement even though I doubt any court would uphold it because I am a woman and therefore considered your property, not an equal able to stand on my own feet. You’re a good man.”
His eyes searched hers. “You really trust me?”
“Yes.” She intertwined her fingers with his. “With my dowry… and with myself.”
His forehead furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Amelia’s throat was suddenly dry. She’d shocked herselfwith that last claim, but now that she’d said it, she wasn’t about to take it back.
“I….” She summoned her courage. This ought not to be so hard. The man was her husband, after all. “I would like to lie with you.”
As he stared at her, a wave of embarrassment washed over her, and her insides churned uncomfortably.
“Only if you want that too,” she hastened to add, her embarrassment growing with every passing second.
“I would.” His generous mouth curved. “But only if you’re sure you’re really ready.”
“I am.”
They’d been married for nearly a month. She knew Andrew by now. He was, as she’d said, a good man. One whose charming smile and twinkling eyes never failed to take her breath away. She trusted him to make this enjoyable for her. Or at least, as enjoyable as it could be. She didn’t know exactly what the marital act entailed.
He drained his brandy far more smoothly than she had, stood, and drew her to her feet. “Your bedchamber or mine?”
“Yours.” She hadn’t seen much of the earl’s chambers yet. Theoretically, she knew she could enter whenever she liked, but it hadn’t felt right to simply go in and snoop around to satisfy her curiosity.
She and Andrew walked hand in hand up the stairs. She’d expected to feel nervous when this time finally came, but all she experienced was a faint twinge arising more from a lack of knowledge than anything else.
Amelia didn’t like to be unprepared, and in this case, she very much was.
When they reached his bedchamber, he opened the door and held it for her. She stepped inside and looked around. Candlesticks burned on the nightstands, and there was a fire in the grate opposite the bed. The drapes were drawn, and the bedcovers were pulled up.
