Page 77 of The Earl's Bluestocking Bride
If she knew she could expect fidelity from him, it may bother her less, but the fact was, she had no idea whether he would be faithful. It hadn’t been part of their agreement.
Eventually, he’d probably grow bored with her, and she wasn’t sure how she’d handle it when he did.
CHAPTER 18
London,
November 1820
“How are things going in there?”Andrew called through the connecting door between his bedroom and Amelia’s.
They were due to leave for the Hertford ball shortly. He was more or less ready, but he knew women often took longer to prepare.
“I’ll be ready soon,” Amelia called back. “Are you sure Brigid doesn’t wish to join us?”
“Not this time.” His mother and wife got on startlingly well, so he could understand Amelia’s surprise, but his mother had pleaded off, citing a headache.
He tweaked his cravat and headed through the doorway, coming up short at the sight of his wife being buttoned into a dark blue gown by her maid. The silken skin on the back of her shoulders slowly disappeared from view as Margaret moved upward.
Damn, his wife was stunning. If he didn’t know how much effort went into dressing her for a ball, he’d insist onstripping every last item of clothing from her body, making love to her, and starting over. Instead, he sat on the bed and watched Margaret fuss over her.
“She looks pretty, doesn’t she?”
He flinched. He hadn’t seen his sister standing near the wall just inside the bedchamber. “She does.”
Kate’s impish smile made his cheeks heat. “Blue is an excellent color for her complexion.”
He glanced at his wife again. She often wore shades of blue, but the lacework and varying shades of this one differed from what she usually chose. “Is this your doing?”
Kate nodded, obviously proud. “I chose the fabrics, and Madam Baptiste designed the gown.”
He nudged her shoulder with his. “You have a good eye.”
She looked at the floor, but he could still make out the corners of her smile. “Thank you.”
They both returned their attention to Amelia and Margaret. It was difficult to tell because of her stern demeanor, but he suspected that Margaret quite liked getting to dress a woman who would be seen and admired by the ton. As yet, Kate wasn’t out, so dressing her didn’t carry the same weight.
Margaret stepped back. “There you are, my lady. All done.”
Amelia looked over her shoulder. “Thank you, Margaret. You may be excused.”
The maid bobbed her head and scurried out.
“I’ll leave too,” Kate murmured. “You look like you’re about to say something terribly sappy.”
He couldn’t deny that.
He waited until Kate had gone, then rose and erased the distance between him and Amelia. “This dress makes your eyes sparkle like sapphires.”
A shy smile curved her lips. “Thank you.”
With two fingers, he tilted her chin up. He wouldn’t lether hide from him. Perhaps a week of lovemaking wouldn’t convince her of her appeal, but he wouldn’t give up. They had a lifetime together, after all.
“In fact.” He pecked her lips. “I find myself quite unable to resist you.”
As he sank to his knees, her eyebrows flew up.
“Andrew?” Her voice trembled.
