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Her gaze softened. “Whatever you think is best, my lord.”
Chapter 25
July 1816
Lowenbrock didn’t press herabout reading her book, so she didn’t have to come up with an excuse to deny him. She wasn’t sure if it was because they were busy with last-minute preparations for the ball or if he realized she wasn’t ready yet to share her writing.
Now that he knew they’d met before when she was serving at the tavern, she didn’t have to fear being discovered. But there was still the matter of just how much she’d based the character of the hero on him, and he might not like it.
She’d started making changes in the second half of the book and was close to finishing the first draft. When that happened, she needed to go back to the beginning and change those parts of the book where the hero was almost indistinguishable from John.
She made her way to his study with the final menus for the ball. Mrs. Hastings had delivered the menus herself when Amelia had emerged from her writing session that afternoon. Amelia had already discussed with her the changes John asked her to make, but the head housekeeper wanted his formal approval. She really couldn’t blame the woman for wanting to ensure everything would meet the new marquess’s expectations.
It was impossible to believe the ball was only one week away. Amelia felt a mixed sense of excitement and apprehension whenever she thought about it. John’s friends and family were due to arrive soon and would be staying for a few days before the event.
She was afraid they wouldn’t approve of his choice of marchioness. If John changed his mind, she wouldn’t force him into keeping a promise made in the heat of passion. She loved him enough to let him go. But if that came to pass, her heart would never recover.
She tapped on his closed study door and opened it when John called out for her to enter. A smile lit his face when he saw it was her.
He held his hand out to her, and she circled the desk and took it. He tugged her onto his lap, as he usually did whenever she came into this room and they were alone.
“You cannot imagine how much I needed this break. My guilt at shirking my duty this year had me asking Jeffers for assistance in becoming familiar with the workings of Parliament. I had no idea he’d set out a massive course of study on English law and parliamentary procedure.”
Knowing that John liked to be prepared, she couldn’t help teasing him. “You probably don’t need to know all the inner workings. Just feel your way through things.”
His frown spoke volumes about what he thought of her suggestion, and she couldn’t hold back her laughter.
“Fine, I’ll admit that I like learning. It’s one of the things I regret about my youth… that I couldn’t go to Oxford as I’d hoped.”
John rarely spoke about his past. She’d have to dig deeper at some point, but the way he was looking at her now told her that talking was the last thing on his mind. Before he could lead them both astray, she placed the menus on his desk.
“Mrs. Hastings asked for your approval on the refreshments for the ball. She’s also created menus for what we’ll be serving the guests who will be staying here.”
John’s brows drew together. “Your approval should be enough. If you think it’s fine, then I will as well. It’s not as though I know anything about such things after spending the past ten years fighting on the continent.”
“I did consult on the choices. But until we’re wed, my opinion doesn’t hold as much weight as yours.”
John let out an annoyed huff. “I cannot wait to make the announcement at the ball.” He turned his attention to the sheets of paper she’d placed on his desk, his eyes scanning over the lists.
While his attention wasn’t fixed on her, Amelia closed her eyes for a moment and gathered her courage. When he gave a nod upon reaching the end of the pages, she took a deep breath. “We need to discuss the announcement.”
His gaze settled on hers again, his eyes narrowed. “Did you change your mind about making a formal announcement in the newspapers?”
Amelia shook her head. “I know you want to introduce me as your future marchioness early in the evening, but perhaps it would be best to wait until later. If you find one of the guests better suited to the role of marchioness—”
He stopped her with a fervent but brief kiss. “That won’t happen. No one could compare to you.”
Amelia’s heart soared at his words. She wanted desperately to believe that was true. “Perhaps we can wait until midway through the ball then?”
John released a harsh breath and leaned back in his chair. His eyes remained fixed on hers though, and she found herself wanting to squirm under the intensity of his stare. “You won’t give up on this nonsense, will you?”
Amelia looked away. “It is only fair. I don’t want you to feel trapped into marrying me when you haven’t had a chance to see if anyone else would suit you more.”
John’s eyes crinkled slightly, and she wondered what he’d found so amusing. “Fine,” he said, lifting one of her hands and placing a kiss in the center of its palm. “But I won’t change my mind. I hope the same can be said for you?”
“No. I wouldn’t continue to be with you like this if I didn’t care about you.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Now tell me…” He gazed down at her palm again, stroking his fingers along the ink stains that marred the skin where she held her quill. “How is your writing going?”
