Page 30 of The Rules of Matrimony
His father stepped back and extended his hand to Ian. “Son.”
Ian stared at it. What was his motivation behind shaking hands? His father always had a motive for every act he made. Ian wouldn’t shake it.
The next thing he knew, Amie lifted his arm at the elbow just enough that his father caught his hand and shook it. The contact was short, abrupt, and completely unwanted. Amie had some explaining to do. She was breaking all the rules.
His mother beamed and wiped moisture from her eye. “I cannot stop tearing up. I’ve cried more today than I did at my own wedding. I cannot remember being so happy. Thank you, Amie, for completing our family.”
Mother was right. Her happiness was all because of Amie and not at all because of him.
Amie ducked her head. “You are too kind.”
At least she was not confessing to their arrangement. He wasn’t prepared to face the barely concealed ire of his father right now. There were too many emotions battling inside Ian as it was, and he did not care to feel any of them.
“I have invited everyone over to the house for a wedding breakfast,” Mother explained. “But I think there are three people who have been very patient behind you.”
If his mother had been teary-eyed, Mrs. Tyler was positively weeping. Amie held her mother for a good five minutes before Ian tried to separate them.
Mr. and Mrs. Nelson looked honored to be in his presence and mentioned three times how they were now related to the Earl of Kellen. When Ian finally pried Amie away from her family, he took her outside to his carriage.
He helped her inside, directed the driver, and then climbed inside himself. He collapsed onto the bench next to Amie and sighed. It was over.
He blinked. Why had he sat beside Amie instead of across from her? When the carriage lurched forward, their arms bounced against each other, sending heat waves through him.
“It is kind of your mother to throw a wedding breakfast for us,” she said.
He willed her arm to stop touching his, but it didn’t work. “We won’t be joining them.”
“We won’t?”
“We are starting our wedding trip right away.” Away from prying eyes. Away from well-meaning friends and relatives. And hopefully, away from each other.
Amie looked over at him, surprise etched on her face. “Where are we going?”
“First, to my townhome to collect Tiny and on to my hunting box. Your future home.”
“Oh.” Her quiet voice drew his full attention. Was she disappointed? What did she expect? This was part of their plan. Throwing a large wedding party and kissing over the altar wasnotthe plan.
“You broke rule number one,” he blurted.
She squirmed. “I thought it necessary.”
He gave a nod, willing his cheeks not to burn again. Dashed all, he was a grown adult and could talk about kissing without melting like a puddle. “I suppose it was.” Shehadbeen convincing. Or he imagined she had been. She had convinced him, at least.
“I hope I did it right,” she whispered.
His brow rose. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve never kissed a man before.”
“Oh, well ...” He was not prepared for a discussion on the topic. “Uh, it was satisfactory.” An understatement if ever he had said one. His heart had stopped. In fact, the entire world had been thrown to a halt.
She had a gift. One she must keep to herself for the rest of her life.
“Then,” she said carefully, “you aren’t angry?” She looked up at him, those soul-filled eyes begging for forgiveness, and her mouth and chin tilted toward him at the most innocent but becoming angle.
He leaned forward almost reflexively, needing to be closer to assure her. He stopped halfway with a start. He yanked his head back and faced forward. He had plans! His new wife wasn’t going to distract him again. “Of course I’m angry,” he growled. “You broke rule two and three as well. What is the point of a contract if you cannot keep it?”
She held up her hand and pointed to her wedding band. “Does not the contract with God supersede the first?”
