Page 28 of The Rules of Matrimony
She pushed down a trace of fear threatening to steal away the sweetness of the moment they’d just shared. Kissing Ian was the scariest, most terrifying thing she had ever done.
And she wanted to do it again.
Chapter 11
Following tradition, there was noclapping or cacophony of cheers echoing through the church. The solemnity of the marriage rites penetrated Ian’s mind, but something else utterly transfixed the rest of him.
Amie.
She looked the part of an angel—no, a goddess. Her divine vanilla essence hung between them like a euphoric cloud. And that kiss. She was something of a heathen for launching herself at him in a church, no less. His heart was still quaking in his chest from the effects of it.Impossible.That particular organ was meant to be dead, and he refused to believe Amie had woken it.
She gave him a nervous, dazed smile. She was too naive to understand what she had done. This was Paul’s fault since he had not kept the ceremony a secret from their friends. Ian tore his eyes from Amie’s, his awareness of her too much. He needed to get a grip on his emotions. He looked at Miles instead. This was his fault too. This curly-haired man of the cloth. Their surprise vicar.
Ian glared at him.
Miles grinned back. Then, without further ado, Miles threw his arm around Ian and slapped his other hand on his chest. “I never thought I’d see the day, let alone officiate. It was an honor.”
Ian shrugged his arm away. “I ought to kill you.”
“But you won’t.”
“No, but I suppose I should thank you for coming instead.”
Miles laughed. “You’re welcome.”
“Amie,” Ian said, trying to look at her but nowhere near her mouth. “This is Miles Jackson, an old friend, who is usually more reverent than he just now demonstrated.”
Miles dipped his head. “It’s an honor to meet a woman who can put Ian in his place.”
Ian skewered Miles with another glare.
“Me?” Amie shook her head as if completely ignorant to what she had just done.
Before Miles could expound and earn himself a punch to his mouth, Paul interrupted. “Congratulations to the happy couple.” Paul’s russet hair fell onto his forehead. Louisa, his wife, who was heavy with child, reached up and fixed it for him.
“I ought to kill you too.” Ian took a step toward him, but Louisa slid between them, her large stomach creating ample space.
Louisa blinked her smiling eyes at him. “I have been anxious to meet your wife. Be a dear and introduce us.”
His wife. That word froze him in place and momentarily made him forget his ire. He was married. His worst nightmare had come true. “Uh, Miss Tyler ... I mean, Lady Reynolds ...” He hesitated, more flustered than he’d ever been in his life. He had never imagined a Lady Reynolds in existence after his grandmother. It took him a moment to remember what he was saying. “This is Mr. Paul Sheldon and his wife, Mrs. Louisa Sheldon.”
“Better known as Fisher and Nymph,” Tom said, squirreling into their circle. His wide grin swung toward Amie. “Would you care to know what we call your husband?”
Ian sighed. “And this is Tom Harwood, an obnoxious tease, and he is married to ...” He glanced around just as Tom’s wife stepped away from Ian’s mother’s side and hurried to join them.
“Cassandra, if you please,” she said. “I know we are meeting for the first time, and it seems highly unusual to address us by our given names, but I assure you, we will all be fast friends very soon.”Cassandra dipped a curtsy and reached for one of Amie’s hands while Louisa took the other.
“Several of the group came all the way from York to catch the wedding, but Paul and I are in London until the summer if you need anything,” Louisa said, her ever-present smile beaming. “You must know, you have exceeded all our expectations. Not just anyone could be the right match for Ian, but you are perfection itself.”
Paul must’ve neglected to tell them the specifics of their arrangement, though Amie did look perfect today, didn’t she? Each curl by her face was flawlessly coiled, and her cheeks bore a rosy bloom. Her gown was exquisite. Her lips a crimson red ...
Ian gulped.
Tom must’ve sensed the direction of his thoughts, for he said, “I didn’t get a kiss like that at my wedding.” His mouth turned down in a ridiculous pout.
Cassandra elbowed him. If she hadn’t, Ian might have. Ian’s neck burned at the mere mention of that kiss.
Cassandra started telling Amie a humorous story about Tom to put him on the spot instead. Paul took the opportunity to lean over and whisper, “I couldn’t keep your wedding from the Rebels. They would have revolted.”
