Page 44 of The Rules of Matrimony
Her quiet voice answered back, “I am happy you have people like that in your life.”
Her words touched him. More than she would probably ever know. “What about you? Who knows the real Amie?”
“I ... I don’t know.” He hadn’t expected for her to stumble over her answer. “Tell me about Brookeside,” she said quickly. “Youmentioned you have a house there that you might return to at some point. Do you love it because your friends are there, or is there something special about the location that draws you in?”
It didn’t escape him how she’d turned the subject back on him. He didn’t mind. He could talk about Brookeside all day. “Bellmont Manor is a picture, but the land is what is truly beautiful. We have two ponds, where we swim, fish, and picnic. My friends and I prefer the farther one because it’s larger and removed from onlookers.”
“What else?” she asked, a yawn nearly cutting off her words.
It was like she was asking him to talk her to sleep. He did so little for her that he would oblige her in this. “There’s the Dome.”
“The Dome?”
“My hideout—a Palladian-style temple.” He couldn’t believe he was telling her this, but it was as close to a bedtime story as he could think of. “The place where my friends and I scheme about escaping our mothers and saving the world.”
“It sounds perfect.”
“It is to me. The Rebels and our missions are my life.”
“Rebels?”
He nodded against his pillow. “That’s what we call ourselves—Rebels against Society’s injustices.” He had never told anyone about the secret work he and his friends did, but it felt right telling Amie.
After a moment, she asked another question, breaking the stillness in the room with her quiet voice. “The friends from your wedding. Are they Rebels?”
“Yes, along with Lisette and Walter Bentley. You might have heard, but they remained behind in Brookeside for personal matters. Five of us grew up together, but now their spouses have joined the cause too.”
“And you help people?” There was awe in her voice, and her respect made him feel like twice the man he was.
“We try to.”
“Your life in Brookeside sounds like an adventure.”
“At times, it has been.” In an attempt to help her relax, he shared a few stories of his getting into scrapes as a child. He added other information about his home and his friends, mostly insignificant details. When he heard her soft breathing, he knew she was finally asleep. He forced his eyes to close and his mind to empty, but Amie’s question about his father circled in his mind again, pushing away all the sweet memories of Brookeside. He rotated from his side to his back, but the question persisted.
What did he like about his father?
The man wasn’t all bad. Outside of his personal life, he supposed his father had been a bit of a Rebel himself. He’d done a lot of good with his career in Parliament. Ian had noticed, but he hadn’t wanted to believe it. What good was a man’s work if he neglected his family?
Ian willed that question to linger in his mind instead, and for some reason, it made him think of Amie. He drifted off to sleep before he could figure out why.
Chapter 21
Amie tossed and turned allnight from an upset stomach. She woke in the morning feeling groggy. Pillows were sprawled across the other side of the bed. Ian’s side. She hadn’t heard him get up. Easing out from under the covers, she went to the bell pull and gave it a tug. Edna had better hurry. If she dressed quickly, Amie could begin playing the dutiful role of hostess and smooth over some of the awkwardness of the night before.
When she turned around, she noticed something sticking out from under her bed. She moved toward it, curious about what it was. Stopping suddenly, she realized the subject of her gaze. It was a foot! She hurriedly crept over the bed. Ian hadn’t woken. He was asleep on the floor! He had one leg tucked under the bed, and the smallest corner of the quilt draped over his chest and one arm. How cold and hard his night must have been.
Oh dear. Edna would be here any moment. Her chatter would wake up Ian in an instant. Sucking in her breath, she realized something worse. Edna felt it her duty to report the comings and goings of the house to Amie. She was a bit of a gossip. If Edna witnessed Ian sleeping on the floor, Amie wasn’t certain she trusted the maid enough to keep such a matter a secret.
After donning her robe, Amie moved to Ian’s side and crouched beside him. She took his arm in her hand and gave it a nudge. “Ian.Ian!”
Ian’s eyes flew open, and he sat up quickly. His hands came up around her arms. “What is it? What’s wrong?” His eyes darted around her face, neck, and nightgown.
His instant concern made her forget what she was doing for a moment. “It’s Edna. My maid. I didn’t see you here on the floor, so I called for her.”
Dropping his hands, he seemed to understand her halting sentences and climbed to his feet. Amie tried to look away, but she wasn’t fast enough. She should have been relieved that he was still fully clothed, but even though this was the second time she had seen Ian in just his shirtsleeves, this time, she had a much better view of him.
Although his half-dressed attire emphasized his well-built shoulders and chest, it wasn’t exactly indecent. No, that was not what she would call it at all. It was a state of vulnerability—of normalcy. In his shirtsleeves, he wasn’t the viscount or the imposing man who wouldn’t let anyone dare try to control his life. With his shirttails sticking out and his hair ruffled, he was human. And so utterly real it nearly stole her breath.
