Page 23 of The Rules of Matrimony
Amie unintentionally gripped Ian’s arm, though she had no idea if he would do anything to protect her. The shock in his father’s eyes and the perplexed look in Lady Kellen’s confirmed her earlier suspicions. They did not know about the engagement.
“Lord Kellen, what is this?” Lord Halbert said, full of bluster.
“That is what I would like to know,” Lord Kellen answered.
“We are engaged,” Ian repeated, “to be married.”
“You already said that,” Lord Kellen barked. “I’m waiting for you to say something sensible.” He turned to the Fosters. “Please excuse me. I must speak with my son privately.”
“Indeed,” Lady Halbert agreed.
Ian held his ground. “We can discuss the particulars another time, Father. We have guests who deserve our attention. Dinner will be announced at any moment.”
Lady Kellen remained remarkably quiet through the tense exchange, but at this, she gave her husband the barest hint of a nod. This was worse than a run-in with the Peterson sisters. Amie did not care for contention. In fact, she hated it. When Ian’s father’s face turned a shade of purple, she winced.
“Very well,” Lord Kellen said. “We will discuss this tonight after everyone has left.”
They were informed of dinner being ready a moment later, and they filed into the dining room. Ian did not let go of Amie’s arm until they reached her chair. He pulled it out for her, and she reluctantly relinquished the safety of his nearness. She found herself seated next to Mama on one side and, thankfully, Ian on the other. However, her position gave her a rather uncomfortable view of Miss Foster, who sat directly across from her. Lady Kellen, a supposed ally, was at the upper end of the table and too far away to offer any ready comfort from her agitated husband, who took the seat beside her. Without looking, Amie could feel Lord Kellen’s glare searing her cheeks.
Footmen carried in the first course. A cream mushroom soup, buttered asparagus, salmon baked in pastries, pudding, and several dishes she could not identify were presented like works of art. Unfortunately for her, she’d rather lost her appetite.
Miss Foster broke the awkward silence after Amie forced a second bite of soup. At least it was not Mama who spoke.
“Miss Tyler, pray tell, why is it we have never heard of you before?”
Amie set her spoon down so she could concentrate and not embarrass herself. “Likely for the same reason I have never heard of you.” She hadn’t expected another gasp from Lady Halbert, who suddenly clutched the pearls that matched the white streaks in her hair.Amie glanced at Ian, who had his fist to his mouth and the hint of mirth in his features.
She rethought her answer and realized it did sound off-putting, though that had not been her intention. She tried to remedy her response. “I meant, I have not come to Town for the Season. You would not have seen me at any of the assemblies here.”
Mama nodded. “I would never presume to parade my daughter about as so many others do.”
Amie cringed, wishing the floor would open beneath their chairs like a behemoth mouth and swallow them up. But they were not so fortunate. Could they make a worst first impression?
“She is my best kept secret,” Ian said, raising his glass to her before taking a long drink.
Amie gaped at his flirtatious tone and words.
He returned her gaze, holding it and not letting go. Perhaps she did not want to be swallowed by any floor monster after all—not if it meant Ian wouldn’t hold her in his gaze ever again. He didn’t smile, but she found she wanted him to. Because if he wasn’t joking, she had no idea what to do about it. He could hardly expect her to flirt back. She didn’t know how.
“Have you discussed dates?” Lady Kellen asked. If she was jumping in to steer the conversation to safer grounds, this was probably not the way.
“Amieand I hope to be wed as soon as arrangements can be made.” He set his hand on the back of her chair. He wasn’t touching her, but he might as well have, for her back heated just the same.
What was Ian doing? Even a dunderhead like herself knew that his leading statements would rile Satan himself. Dropping her given name was the finishing touch. She dared a glance at Lord Kellen. Sure enough, his color darkened, and he appeared on the verge of an apoplexy.
It was one thing to convinceherfamily of an engagement, but there would be no coming back from this. She fumbled with the napkin in her lap. If she had to marry into this family, she did notwant them to hate her. Except rule number two forbade familial connections of any sort.
Cursing rule number two, she did her best to muster her agreement to Ian’s bold statement of marriage by lifting the corners of her mouth as high as she dared.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, Mama had plenty to say that was far less subtle. “I do hope it is a grand wedding with plenty of flowers. I do not care for weddings without enough flowers. We cannot have guests thinking it is another day at church and not a special occasion. I will invite all my family, of course. And surely the elite of thetonwill come. My future son-in-law is a viscount, after all. We couldn’t have anything less.”
“Lord Reynolds doesn’t care for grand parties,” Miss Foster said. Her smile resembled that of a cat. “Everyone who knows him at all would realize that.”
Amie didn’t know. In fact, she knew very little about the man next to her. She was a fake. A pretender. And wished she could disappear until the dinner was over.
Ian bent over her to address Mama. “But I cannot disagree about the flowers. Would you be willing to make a list of your favorites?”
Mama was not put out in the slightest by Miss Foster, and she beamed under Ian’s attention. “I should be glad to.”
