“My condition affects only my mobility, not my reproductive capabilities,” Amelia cut in, her voice cool despite the humiliation burning in her chest. “Though I fail to see how my personal medical details are appropriate for a discussion.”
“Well said, my dear.” The dowager’s voice carried surprising approval. “Really, Aunt Gertrude, such questions are both vulgar and unnecessary. Besides, Charles seems quite enamored. I doubt he’s given a moment’s thought to such practical considerations.”
Aunt Gertrude sniffed. “In my day, practical considerations were paramount in marriage. Not like these modern love matches.”
“Indeed. Times change,” the dowager replied with finality. “Now, I believe dinner is about to be announced.”
As the old woman moved away, the dowager turned to Amelia with an expression that hovered between resignation and grudging respect. “You handled that remarkably well. Aunt Gertrude has terrorized this family for decades.”
“Thank you for your intervention,” Amelia said, still stunned by the sudden alliance.
The dowager’s lips thinned. “While I may have reservations about your suitability, you are now a Hereford. The Hereford family matters are not for our kinsmen to dissect.” Her voice softened marginally. “Besides, Charles would be furious if he heard anyone questioning your capabilities in such a manner.”
While Amelia was pondering the dowager’s statement, the dinner announcement rang out. As couples began to form the procession into the dining room, she found herself momentarily adrift. Hereford was nowhere in sight, and she hesitated, uncertain of the proper protocol.
“My lady.” His voice came from behind her, warm and reassuring. “May I escort you?”
She turned to find him offering his arm, his expression softer than she’d seen it before. “Thank you,” she said quietly, grateful for his timely appearance.
As they took their places in the procession, he bent his head to murmur, “I saw Aunt Gertrude cornering you. Are you all right?”
“Yes, though your mother came to my rescue, strangely enough.”
Surprise flickered across his features. “Did she? Wonders never cease.” His hand covered hers where it rested on his arm. “What did Aunt Gertrude say that required rescue?”
Amelia hesitated. “She questioned whether my… leg… would affect my ability to bear children.”
Hereford’s expression darkened dangerously. “That interfering old—”
“No matter,” she interrupted quickly. “Your mother put her in her place quite effectively.”
His jaw remained tight. “I should have been there.”
“You can’t protect me from every unpleasant conversation, Charles.”
“I can certainly try,” he muttered, then seemed to catch himself. “Though I imagine you’re perfectly capable of handling most situations.”
“Most,” she agreed with a small smile. “Though I appreciate the sentiment.”
Their eyes met, and something shifted in the air between them—a moment of genuine connection amid the performance they’d been maintaining for the evening.
The moment shattered as they were ushered to their seats at the long dining table. Amelia found herself between an elderly duke who seemed half-asleep and a young viscount who spent the first course staring openly at her décolletage.
“So, Lady Hereford,” the viscount finally managed, dragging his gaze to her face with visible effort. “Everyone’s dying to know how you managed to tame the notorious marquess.”
“Tame?” Amelia echoed, taking a sip of wine. “I wasn’t aware my husband required taming.”
“Oh, come now,” the young man chuckled. “Hereford’s reputation is legendary.”
“I find gossip tedious,” Amelia interrupted, her tone frosty. “Perhaps we could discuss something of substance? Do you perchance have interests in railway development?”
The viscount looked taken aback. “Railways? Good God, no. Leave that to the merchants.” He lowered his voice to a confidential whisper. “Though between us, was it his prowess—”
“Lord Dorset,” Hereford’s voice cut through the conversation from across the table, his tone pleasant but his eyes dangerously cold. “I believe you’re discussing matters inappropriate for mixed company.”
The viscount flushed. “Just making conversation with your charming bride, Lord Hereford.”
“Find another topic,” Hereford said sharply, his smile not reaching his eyes. “My wife’s scholarly work, perhaps. Her latest editorial on parliamentary reform was particularly incisive.”
