Page 32 of The Rules of Matrimony
“Thank you.” Amie wasn’t tired at all anymore, not with so many new things to see. Even so, she was shown to her room on the second floor. She noted Ian’s possessions through the open door of the bedchamber beside her own. They would be sleeping so near each other. It had been the same at the inn the night before, butthere had been dozens of other people milling about. This felt far more intimate.
At least there did not seem to be a connecting door between their rooms as was the case at larger estates. On the other side of her room, there were two other bedchambers in the corridor and a set of stairs that led to the attic space. The housekeeper coughed, and Amie forced herself into her new room, where she was left to herself.
Her trunk had arrived before they had and was already sitting at the foot of her bed. She glanced around her spacious room, noting the simple furnishings—a dressing table and a set of drawers beside a narrow closet. The neutral colors blended into the walls and drew her to the stark colors out her window. She pushed the glass panes open and sighed. So, this was married life. It was new and terrifying.
She set to unpacking, needing a project to occupy her mind. A half hour later, her new lady’s maid, Edna, came in to help her dress for a late dinner.
“Good evening, Edna,” Amie said, grateful for a familiar face. She had met Edna the night before at the inn, a talkative young woman who had traveled ahead in a separate carriage with their luggage. “I haven’t the faintest idea of what to wear tonight. What do you think?”
Edna flashed her sweet, toothy smile at Amie. “Let’s ’ave a look, eh?” Her slender body moved lithely about the room as she set aside a dress and pair of slippers for the evening. Amie hadn’t had a lady’s maid of her own before, and Ian had arranged for one without her even knowing. It was a luxury she was not going to complain about. For a man so against marriage, he’d been meticulous in his planning.
“This dress is perfect. Shall we see what you can do with this mane of mine?” Amie lifted one of her stubborn curls by her face. She had never learned to fix her own hair with any talent.
Not a quarter hour later, Amie admired her tamed hair. Edna had as much expertise as Aunt Nelson’s expensive lady’s maid. Ian had chosen well. While Edna fussed over her, she chatted about thestaff, but Amie was too distracted to remember the names of the servants to place in her mind who Edna spoke about.
When her toilet was complete, Amie crept from her room and down the stairs, anxious about running into Ian. She took in the nuances of her home. Dark walnut trimmed the walls and the staircase. To the right was the entrance hall, and to the left a small library. She stayed straight and found herself in an open salon. The room on the same side as the library was the drawing room, and she supposed the opposite end of the salon would be the dining room. The house was not overly large and would be easy to learn.
“Are you ready for dinner?”
Her skirts pulled around her ankles as she whirled to face Ian, her hand going up to still the sudden, wild beating in her chest. “I ... I am.”
“Good.” He clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. He was acting hesitant and not as confident as normal. He pointed to where she had guessed the dining room to be. “This way.”
He didn’t take her arm, but she supposed there was no need to be formal any longer. And beyond that, no one to pretend for. The dining table, covered in white linen, sat eight and was much shorter than the one at his parents’ home. Would they ever have friends to join them? Perhaps some of Ian’s friends from Town would visit, or she would make new friends of her own.
Ian pulled out the chair at the end of the table for her before taking his own seat at the other end. Suddenly, the table appeared much larger with all the open space between them.
They ate quietly, Amie hardly tasting her food.
When they finished, Ian set his napkin on the table. “I’ve been thinking about our arrangement.”
Her heart lurched. Did he want to change it? Didshewant him to change it? She forced out the first words she could think of. “You have?”
He fingered the stem of his glass. “I will stay a fortnight and see that you are situated before I return to London.”
A fortnight. That was all they had together? And then she would be alone. But she would have a roof over her head, just as she wished. Why was she not more thrilled with her prospects? “When will I see you again?”
“I will not plague you with my presence too often. I know you wished for a house, not a husband. However, we should probably be seen together over the holidays.”
“Of course.” She poked at her food with her fork. The holidays were months away. By then, the world would know their marriage was a sham, and it would hardly matter if they were together or not. But she would have the house, and that was no small thing.
“I am happy to send for your mother,” Ian said, “if you would like her to reside here with you. We didn’t go over the details, but Oak End will be yours to run as you see fit. Please feel free to have whatever company you desire.”
“Mama would be glad to come.” What would she think when she arrived and found Ian had no intention of visiting? Would she be proud Amie had done well for herself, or would she be disappointed that her only daughter had not found love and never would? Regardless of what Mama or anyone else thought, Amie must stick to the plan. She had a home now. What more could she ask for?
After dinner, Ian handed her a folded piece of parchment. “This is a copy of our verbal contract. It lists the same three rules we discussed that day by the orchard. You may keep this copy. I have my own.”
It felt awfully official written on paper. She fingered it. “Would you like me to sign it?”
“This is a mere formality, so neither of us can claim to forget anything. But perhaps you had better sign it for good measure.”
It wasn’t a very good contract if both of them didn’t sign it. She wondered if he had added any consequences. If he’d been smart, he would have, and she suspected him to be a very thorough man.
“Thank you.”
He nodded and added a curt, “Good night.”
She waited until she was in her bedchamber to read the contract. But when she shut the door behind her, her eyes caught hold of a bouquet of flowers by her bedside. Not just any flowers. Wildflowers. Purple, blue, yellow, and green blossoms tied together with a piece of twine pooled out of the short, white vase.
