Page 27 of The Rules of Matrimony
There were three other couples in attendance. All about her or Ian’s age. A man with a wide grin leaned over the arm of his bench and winked at her. Her brow jumped up her forehead. What a shocking thing to do. Why would any of Ian’s relations wink at her? His wife, or Amie supposed her to be his wife, leaned forward, too, and gave a little wave. Their knowing looks did not sit quite right, as they were perfect strangers to her.
She and Lord Kellen were mere feet away from Ian now, and she caught him whispering something to the vicar—a handsome young man with short, perfectly coiled dark-brown curls. He smiled at Ian, causing dimples to appear, and motioned for him to look forward.
When Ian did, his gaze met hers again, just as Lord Kellen brought her the rest of the way to him. Lord Kellen took her hand and lifted it for Ian to take.
Ian scowled at his father, making Amie tense all over. But when he took her hand, it was with the utmost gentle touch. Lord Kellen stepped back and found his seat beside his wife.
It was time.
“It is a pleasure to unite you both in marriage today,” the vicar said, his calm voice not quite consistent with his almost mischievous smile. He lifted both his hands, one holding the Book of Common Prayer, and raised his voice for the others to hear. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God ...”
Amie did her best to listen, momentarily caught with guilt when he mentioned marriage being primarily for the procreation of children. For the rest of the vicar’s speech, Ian arrested her attention. His blue eyes were bright in the church’s dim light. His high cheekbones, sharp jaw, and cleft chin were such perfectly sculpted masculine features. She followed the straight line of his nose down to his mouth and stopped.
She had never been married before, but she had been to a few family weddings. The groom had always kissed the bride at the end. But she had agreed to the contract and wouldn’t question the matter further. Still, it seemed a little embarrassing to not kiss, as thoughemphasizing that they did not truly care for each other despite trying to pretend that they did.
But Ian knew best. He was the viscount.
They joined right hands, and Ian repeated his vow, sending a flutter to her stomach. Those words, with Ian’s eyes so intent on hers, wove a spell over her heart. It was her turn next, and with miraculous clarity, she repeated her own vow. Apart from the contract and all the silly rules, she believed her oath. She was promising to be Ian’s wife—in every way. God and the angels were her witnesses.
“The ring?” the vicar asked.
Ian withdrew a ring from his waistcoat pocket and gave it to the vicar. With due reverence, the gold band was blessed before Ian retrieved it again. She lifted her shaking left hand, and Ian slid the ring around her fourth finger.
Her stomach fluttered at the barely existent touch and the slight weight now resting on her finger. Ian covered it with his hand and repeated, “With this ring, I thee wed; with my body, I thee worship; and with all my worldly goods, I thee endow: in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
The vicar said a prayer followed by these sacred words, “Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.” The vicar cleared his throat. “You may now kiss your bride.”
Ian’s face whipped to the vicar’s, his scowl deepening at the words he had sworn would not be said.
The vicar only grinned, clearly overjoyed for them. To him, this was an unofficial but cherished part of the ceremony. It was likely that everyone thought the same. Amie easily recalled Cousin Harriet’s kiss with her new husband last spring in the church in Bath. They had been a love match, but weren’t Amie and Ian supposed to be pretending to be one as well? Hadn’t their outings fueled such rumors all week?
The truth belonged to them alone. And a wedding kiss was off the table.
She had promised to keep all his rules, embarrassment or not.
When Ian faced her again, his eyes were glacier blue, and his cold expression was not that of a happily, newly married man. But happiness had never been part of his plans, had it? Their well-thought-out future suddenly looked rather bleak. For them both.
Well, hang his rules. This was his wedding day, but it was her wedding day too. The only wedding she would get. Shouldn’t they finish it properly?
Was she or wasn’t she his wife?
She had certainly vowed to love and cherish him only moments ago.
She had no idea what possessed her next action. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him down at the same time she launched herself up on her toes. Then she did the most audacious thing she had ever done in her life: She kissed Ian.
Their lips touched with a jolt, his mouth softer than she’d imagined. But a peck wouldn’t do for a wedding. She closed her eyes and moved her lips against his, as her cousin had done with her husband. If Amie was only going to do this once, she was going to do it right. The connection, however, did something to her that she hadn’t witnessed last spring or ever ...
A wave of heat poured through her, awakening all her senses. She leaned into it, letting the feeling consume her. Somewhere, a voice screamed for her to stop, while another insisted she make the kiss look as real as possible. The third voice was the loudest and the strongest, and it declared kissing to be the most wonderful experience of her life.
She listened to voice number three, savoring every sweet second. Her hands went up around Ian’s neck, wanting—needing—to be closer, and the weight of his hands fell naturally to her waist. She had never been held like this before, and gooseflesh erupted down her back and legs. Ian’s mouth began to move against hers, responding and answering an unspoken need. Was it the church, or were all kisses this heavenly?
Someone cleared their throat beside her.
The vicar!
Amie broke their kiss, stepping back too quickly and stumbling. Ian tightened his grip on her. She looked up into his turbulent gaze. She had broken his most important rule and even put on a show—just as he had said not to do—and heaven help her, she did not regret a moment of it.
But her husband ... He clearly had not decided whether he would forgive her yet.
