The day dragged on, and it seemed as though dinner would never arrive. Somehow John managed to force his attention on the accounts after Amelia left. But his thoughts kept drifting back to her, anticipation tightening within him as he looked forward to their night together.
The only thing that kept his mind on the task at hand was the knowledge that his steward would be arriving at eleven, as was his custom when he updated the account books. The man’s serious demeanor kept John’s thoughts from drifting back to Amelia and the way she’d felt in his arms.
Finally it was time to join Amelia for dinner. He entered the drawing room earlier than normal. Unable to release the tension that coiled through his body, he paced as he waited for her arrival.
When he turned for what felt like the hundredth time, he spotted her standing just inside the threshold. Her dress was a pale lavender, a color that accentuated her fair skin and dark hair. And her blue eyes shone with a glow that had him aching to take her into his arms again.
When he spotted the footman hovering in the hallway, he had to settle for a smile and a murmured greeting. As they’d done every evening, she took his arm and together they made their way to the dining room. He was grinning like a fool.
Instead of allowing a footman to draw out her chair, he performed the task himself, barely restraining the urge to caress the skin of her neck. He made his way to the opposite side of the table and waited as the footman served the soup dish.
“You appear to be in a good mood, my lord.”
He realized he’d been imagining how she’d look rounded with his child and gave his head a small shake to clear his thoughts. He needed to ensure that didn’t happen until after they wed.
“How could I be anything else when I’m having dinner with the most beautiful woman in all of England?”
Their eyes met and held before she looked away. She wasn’t afflicted with his own curse of blushing when embarrassed, but he knew his words had affected her.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” she said, her voice pitched low so the footman wouldn’t overhear their conversation.
“If we wait a little while longer, my family will be here to properly chaperone us.” He was teasing, of course. He knew she wanted this as much as he did. Still, he felt the need to give her an excuse to back out if she’d changed her mind.
“Don’t you dare.” The glare she sent him was teasing, but he knew she was serious.
Dinner seemed to take twice as long as normal. The glances she cast his way had him hard for most of the meal. He only survived without betraying himself to the staff because she wasn’t sitting close enough for him to touch her. But if he was being honest, he didn’t care if the whole world knew they would soon be together.
No matter how much care they took, there would be gossip belowstairs. Instead of dragging her into his arms when the meal was over, he inclined his head when she bid him good night. He waited for her to leave the dining room first, averting his gaze instead of watching the way her backside swayed slightly, and then made his way to his own chambers after a respectable amount of time had passed.
He waited an hour before leaving his rooms again. He’d wanted to go to her directly, but he had to allow enough time for her maid to help her prepare for bed. He’d dismissed his own valet after he’d appeared in his room.
It was a ritual they went through every night. Oliver would appear, offer his assistance, and John would dismiss him. Maybe one day he’d grow used to the custom, but for now he wasn’t comfortable standing there while another man dressed and undressed him.
It was enough for the older man that John made a point of laying his clothes out neatly in his dressing room for his valet to arrange to have cleaned or put away.
John had removed his cravat, but he still wore his waistcoat as he made his way to Amelia’s bedroom. He rarely wore a formal topcoat when home, so his appearance wouldn’t cause any raised eyebrows if he ran into one of the staff.
He tapped on her door, and it opened a crack. Amelia peeked out at him. He was about to ask if she was alone, but the way she opened the door wide and pulled him into the room was all the answer he needed.
He waited for her to lock the door and turn to face him again. She wore a linen nightdress that should have been proper, but on her was sin itself. Instead of the extra volume of fabric that draped from the bodices of the dresses she wore every day, the fabric fell in a straight line from her shoulder to the floor. And since Amelia’s figure was anything but straight, the fabric clung to her breasts and hips, accentuating her body in ways he realized he’d seen once before. Her hair spilled down around her shoulders in dark waves that he longed to bury his fingers in.
He stood in shocked silence for several seconds but decided to wait until later to ask her why she’d tried to hide the fact they’d already met. He had other matters to attend to first.
“I take it you’re alone?”
She huffed out a surprised laugh. “I’ve been alone for the past forty-five minutes. I feigned a headache and told my maid I was going straight to bed.”
She moved into his arms and tilted her face up. He needed no further inducement to take the kiss she offered. The one he’d been craving all day since she left his study.