Page 79 of The Rules of Matrimony
It was hard to remember the obstacles between them when the moment felt so perfectly right.
Hefelt perfectly right.
If he asked her again what she wanted in life, she was certain she would not hesitate this time. Being with him was what she wanted most in the world.
Chapter 39
Sprawled out on his officefloor, Ian had a pillow under his head and a stack of papers hovering over his face as he read through another record from the Old Bailey. Moving his papers to the side an inch, he stole a glance at Amie. She sat above him on the two-seated sofa with a knitted blanket on her lap and her legs curled up beneath her. She had the tip of her finger between her teeth and her own stack of papers in hand.
“This one is a terribly sad case,” she murmured, reaching over him to set the paper on his desk, where they had compiled the worst cases to show the other members of Parliament.
“Excellent,” he said, finishing his own case and tossing it into a haphazard pile of unusable documents on the floor behind his head. Each time they found something, it gave him an ounce of hope, but it also brought an equal feeling of dread. If they did not make changes, the old system would perpetuate the same heartless results it had for more than a century. Amie’s help had been a godsend, keeping up his spirits and cutting down on his workload.
He started his next case, but his thoughts wandered to Amie.
After hours of being tucked away in his office, she hadn’t complained once. Not even after getting up early, a nearly unheard of event among thetonduring the Season. Something about that alone made him smile. Any other lady would have complained that such reading material was shocking to their sensibilities. Amie devoured the records as if they were as important to her as they were to him. If ever there were a key to his heart, this sacrifice might be it.
He squeezed his eyes shut, chastising himself for his lack of focus. He quickly adjusted the papers to hide his view of her completely. If he couldn’t concentrate on his work, the least he could do was come up with a solid plan of how to handle Amie’s mother and uncle when they arrived. Paul had been right to caution him about the contract. It all seemed rather immature and stupid now. But after watching all his friends swear off marriage and then succumb one by one to the Matchmaking Mamas, he had needed to proceed with the utmost caution.
With the slightest effort, he shifted his papers to the side to glance at Amie again. She grew more beautiful to him every time he looked at her. He loathed thinking of her facing her relatives and any form of embarrassment.
“Is there something on my face?” Amie’s eyes flicked over to meet his. “Ink perhaps? You keep staring at me.”
He’d been caught. He lowered his papers to his lap. “Staring? Me?”
“I keep feeling your gaze.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Perhaps you are imagining it?”
“Hardly. Did I not catch you just now?”
He pushed up on his elbow. There was no use denying the obvious at this point. If she were less beautiful or interesting, he wouldn’t be staring at all. “I am making certain you’re doing your work,” he teased. “You know I only have three more days until the committee presents to the House.” She did not appear as if she believed him.Hewouldn’t believe him either.
She gave him a dry look. “You’ve mentioned it a half a dozen times already this morning.”
“Have I?” He grinned. He’d not expected her to be so fun to banter with when he’d first met her, but he’d come to value her hidden wit.
“Yes, but it seemsyouare the one who cannot concentrate on your work.”
His grin receded as he tried and failed to summon a look of contrition. “I have my reasons.” Reasons that he wouldn’t voice aloud. What good would it do to tell her that she was far prettier than the papers in his hands? It was only reasonable that his eyes should prefer her face. Not to mention how her scent hovered about the room and had him thinking of too many times where she’d been in his arms.
Her brows rose, and she leaned her chin against the palm of her hand. “Reasons, you say. Do these reasons include my face?”
Was she reading his mind? “Perhaps it’s because you put your feet up under you, and I’m waiting for you to kick me at any moment. My memory is too keen for me not to be on my guard.”
She leaned forward, giving him a stare that reminded him of a mother berating her child. “You know perfectly well that it was because of the warm milk.”
“Do I?” he teased. “I haven’t been brave enough to sleep beside you again to be sure.” His half smile froze on his lips. This conversation was taking a wild turn for the worse, and it was entirely his fault.
Instead of a look of shock at his flirtations, he got a glare. “Why not see if I kick better when I am awake than when I’m asleep?” She started to untangle her feet from beneath her.
He sat up in one smooth motion. “On that note, I think I’ll move to the seat beside you.”
She laughed. “We’ll see if it improves your concentration.”
Likely not. He’d been avoiding that seat to help him focus. It had worked for a few hours.
As soon as he was settled, the butler stuck his head through the door. “Pardon my interruption, My Lordship. A Mrs. Tyler, a Mr. Nelson, a Mr. Robert Nelson, and a Mr. Withers are here to see you.”
