refreshed. He could only
assume she felt the same since they engaged in the activity so
often.
He could only too easily envision his life
filled with her, focused on her. Why had it taken him so long to
entertain the idea? Besides the fact that she was one of his
oldest friends, and he’d grown up with her, and he nearly
considered her his sister. Yes, those were all very good reasons
why he hadn’t thought of her as marriage material in the past.
But what about the future? Instead of his friend, could she be
his wife?
Three
J ameson arrived for dinner late as usual and
slightly unkempt.
Amelia tsked. “I see the butler let you in,
although I’m not sure why. Really, Jameson, you look like a
madman. You’ll scare the servants away.”
He bowed to Amelia and kissed Lady Beckham on
the cheek. “I’m sorry, my dears. I was lost in thought and
forgot the time. Shall I freshen up?”
Amelia shook her head. “Our dinner will be
charred in truth.”
Lady Beckham slipped her hand through his
elbow and allowed him to escort her into dinner. “Amelia
exaggerates. You look a little windblown, that’s all.”
Amelia said, “Perhaps you are more distressed about that
silly rumor than Robin believes. I did think it was the most
expedient way of fixing the fiasco ; I did not bring it
up solely to hurt you.”
Dinner was served, un-charred thank heavens.
While Amelia did not mind her unflattering nickname, in fact
found it quite amusing, she did not actually enjoy overcooked
meals. It put her in an unpleasant mood, and she was feeling
slightly put out already. Guilt was not an emotion she
entertained overmuch and it did not sit well with her.
Robin had assured her that Jameson had been
amused but it was a touchy subject. And it really had been the best
excuse for his, and Clarice’s, behavior. The ton would be
quick to forgive them both.
Jameson said, “I admit your audacity did shock me for a
moment, Amelia. But even I must admit there are few reasons
society accepts a broken engagement, especially one so close to
the wedding. As always, you played the hand you were given with
aplomb. I salute you, my dear.”
Amelia looked to her mother. “It is so
difficult to tell when he is being serious.”
Jameson forked a perfectly cooked piece of
bird and ate it with considerably more force than was necessary.
It would be easy for a slightly less assured woman to believe he
was imagining it to be her. If it weren’t for the diabolical
twinkle in his eye, she would.
Amelia inhaled sharply. “Very well. I accept
your compliment and will refuse to believe I have hurt you in
the slightest. You may cease with your trickery.” She pointed
her fork at him. “Do not go mucking up all my work now that you
have come out of hiding.”
Lady Beckham sighed and shook her head while
Jameson snorted. “Amelia, please lower your utensil. And kindly
refrain from threatening Jameson at the table.”
After dinner, they retired to the drawing
room. Lady Beckham left soon after, leaving the door ajar.
Jameson had been family for so long that none of them thought of
him as anything but a son and brother. He was allowed liberties
with Amelia that would have ruined his ex-fiancée.
He lowered himself into a chair, sipping his
after-dinner drink. He watched her read, comfortable in the
silence. He was happy here, with her. She was fun, absurdly
loyal, sometimes outrageous. He could spend every night with her
and never be bored. Never be afraid of hurting her.
He took a drink to fortify himself and spoke.
“I have come to the conclusion, my dear dragon, that we should
marry.”
She looked up from her reading with her
eyebrows raised. “Oh, Jameson. Do be serious.”
“I am serious.”
She eyed him and the level of his drink. “How
much have you had tonight?”
“You know I never drink to excess around you.
You’re much