“You say I may do as I please,” she croaked, concentrating on a sparse hedgerow that passed by the window. “What does that entail? My duties, I mean. What are the things I should do in order to pass the time?”
He swept a hand through his mahogany brown hair, eyeing her as if he did not understand the question. “I have no expectations. ‘Do as you please’ means exactly that. My grandmother still runs the household matters at Westyork, and if you choose to retire to London, the townhouse staff are very capable. You will be at your leisure.”
He had not spoken unkindly, but his words pricked like a pin popping a bubble. She had not left one household where she had no say in anything just to join another. Did he not thinkshewas capable? Did he not want anything to change, her presence an afterthought?
“But I must dosomething. You said it yourself; I am a Countess now. I should learn how to run the household at least,” she protested mildly, hesitant to cause any sort of disruption before they were out of such a cramped space.
Lionel shrugged. “If that is what you want, do that. The staff will inform you of any requirements, and you can act from there. Indeed, once we reach Westyork, you should converse mostly with them. They will take care of anything you need.”
Perhaps she was too used to the household she had just left, but it sounded an awful lot like he was trying to dismiss her already. Discreetly telling her that he would not be troubling himself with her too much.
To punctuate her fears, he shuffled over to the corner of the squabs and leaned back with his tailcoat folded into a pillow. His eyes closed. He was going to sleep again, done with the conversation.
But I am not…
“And what of children?” she blurted out.
He opened one eye. “What of them?”
“Well… how many do you want?” She could hardly squeeze the words out, her face ablaze with embarrassment. “Are you eager for us to have them sooner rather than later? Was that the purpose of marrying quickly?”
Isolde had informed her of how children came to be, for any books containing that sort of information had not only been taken from Amelia, they had been burned too. As such, she had a relatively good idea of what had to happen.
“It is customary to begin such… activities on the wedding night,”Isolde had explained. And if that were true, then the first occasion was not far off at all.
Lionel’s other eye opened, his expression darkening. “You need not worry about that, Lady Amelia.”
“Oh?” she squeaked.
“I want no children. I married quickly because I needed to marry, and so did you,” he replied sternly. “The wedding was just a formality. The rest of it is too.”
Amelia frowned, struggling to keep her chin up. “The rest of what?”
“Marriage.” He sighed, sitting forward for a moment. “Lady Amelia, you assured me that you understood what a marriage of convenience meant.”
“Well, I do, but?—”
“Then, this should not be a surprise.” He sank back again, closing his beautiful green eyes. “You will be my countess and my wife in name only. The title of countess is yours to do with as you like, however, after our honeymoon is over. You do not need to reside with me, you do not need to interact with me, you do not have to speak to me and pretend this is more than it is. This is your freedom, Lady Amelia. I would urge you not to waste it because, perhaps, you thought the terms might change. They will not.”
Amelia observed him in abject dismay, realizing that he reallywasfinished with the conversation this time. His cold tone commanded it.
While she had agreed to his wishes for the union, she had not thought the terms might change; rather, she had not understood them correctly. To her knowledge, a marriage of convenience was a marriage arranged for practical or financial gain, or for the purpose of creating alliances. Yet, also to her knowledge, most marriages of convenience still produced children.
She turned her face to the window and watched the winter world of browns and grays and the occasional burst of red or green pass by, just in case he was not asleep. She did not want him to see her devastation. What good would it do, now?
I have been robbed. I have been robbed of the one thing that I still hoped for.Something that even the Baron of Hervey would have given her, without doubt: the gift of becoming a mother.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Lionel did not sleep for the rest of the journey, though he kept his eyes closed. He heard Amelia shifting on the squabs, breathing evenly, clearly restless.
It is better that you understand now.He had seen the confusion on her face, the flicker of hurt in her eyes. It was not his intention to upset the woman, and there had evidently been some misunderstanding, but he hoped it was clear to her now.
Letting his mind drift back toward London, he wondered if he had made a mistake by insisting on his sister and grandmother remaining in the city for a few days. Caroline would have known how to unruffle Amelia’s feathers, tossing out a well-timed joke to break the tension. Although, he was not sure what Rebecca’s reaction might have been; she was still against the marriage. So against it that she had refused to attend the wedding, leaving their grandmother no choice but to stay behind too, to ‘talk’ to her.
It is just for a month, and by then Amelia will realize that her liberty is a gift and not a curse. Soon enough, she will barely remember that she has a husband.He comforted himself with that outcome, knowing it would be best for both of them.
“My Lord, we’re at the gates!” the driver called down from the box, as he always did.
