A/N: This chapter's going to get a little spicy!!!
"Nonsense!" Lady Madeleine cried, taking Amelia's arm and leading her to the dining room. "As soon as we heard that Delilah had gone to see you we had your guest bedroom prepared in case you should wish to stay with us again."
It was all rather convenient. Amelia had been prepared for an obstacle, but, after waking up early to bid farewell to her parents once more, she and Delilah had had an easy carriage ride back to London with Henry accompanying them on horseback and were quickly accepted back into Warstone House with open arms.
Well Amelia was at least. The family alternated between shouting at Delilah and crying over her, apart from Christina who stood next to her silently before whispering, "If you ever do that again, bring me with you. It has been insufferable here." This earnt her own lecture from her eldest brother while Henry shook his head and took himself off to lunch.
"Still, I appreciate you having me to stay again at such short notice," said Amelia.
"I will admit, we were rather hopeful to receive a letter during your absence," Lady Madeleine chuckled. "I was about to put my pen to paper myself before, well, you know what happened."
As they entered the dining room, Madeleine takes her youngest daughter's arm and pulls her closer. She takes her normal place at the head of the table with Delilah sat next to her, while Frederick takes the other end. Christina sits between her brothers. Frederick continues frowning at her after her little comment while Henry gives her a patronising pat on the head. She swats him away but he keeps his hand on her shoulder until the food is served. The only remaining place for Amelia was between Frederick and...Edward.
He stood out from a mile away, a bright beam of light in the room of dark hair and serious faces. His face was not serious but angry, his jaw clenched and his eyes glowing, but he tried his best to hide it as he bowed.
"Lady Amelia," he groaned, sending a shiver down her spine. "I did not know you would be joining us again before the next season."
"No," she replied breathlessly, and his whole demeanour shifted back slightly with surprise. "I wanted to see my cousin home safe."
"So how long will you remain with...in London?"
Amelia realised she was stood still and finally scuttled over to her chair, allowing everyone to take a seat. "It depends," she said. "Going home may have helped me to realise that there are things to keep me here."
"What sort of things?" Edward murmured.
Frederick cleared his throat obliviously. "Well I certainly hope Lady Maldon is one of them. We have not been able to attend an event without her finding us to ask after you. I am surprised she has not called on us already."
Edward kept a tight grip on his cutlery and said little throughout the dinner as the conversation swirled around him. This was certainly some reward for coming to check on his friend in his time of need. As soon as Frederick had arrived at his house yesterday to ask after Delilah, he joined the hunt with him and Henry and scoured Hyde Park for her. Eventually he was called back to Warstone House to be informed that she had run off to see her cousin. He waited with the family in silence for several hours, apart from the odd outburst from Lady Madeleine over whether it would rain, whether that would hinder their travels, and whether they were safe.
When it became apparent that Henry and Delilah would not return that night, Edward left with the promise to return in the morning in case anything needed to be done. It had meant rescheduling his lunch with Lord Tambery, an old friend of his father who was on good terms with the Earl of Liverpool, the Prime Minister, and it seemed that making such a sacrifice required a punishment. Here he was, forced to sit next to Amelia for well over an hour, unable to speak to her.
What would he say? He thought he had just about forgotten her and her rejection, but he had felt that keen of pain in his core the second he saw her. And what was different about her? She seemed less like icy and more like crystal, hard and cold but delicate at the same time. Her face moved more easily and her expressions were gentler – he ought to know, he had spent long enough studying her.
"I would like to convince you to stay," Frederick chuckled to him privately after everyone else left the dining room. "But after everything we have put you through I am sure you cannot wait to escape."
"I am sure I will be quite recovered in, say, a year or two," said Edward, causing both gentlemen to snort. "I am very glad that she is safe. I hope you will not be too harsh on her."
"I do not think it is possible to be too harsh on her after her little escapade." Frederick frowned deeply and his eyes darkened, an expression which never normally crossed his face. "After all she put us through."
"Well Caroline has not long left home and she and Am- Lady Amelia became fast friends. I am still adjusting to not having my sister home all the time." Edward did not quite miss the migraines, but he found himself missing some of the conversations. Their joint efforts to annoy their mother had often been entertaining.
"I wish Lady Amelia would stay. They are good for one another."
Edward cleared his throat. "I ought to go and let my mother know Delilah is safe and well."
"Of course. And thank you again."
The two gentlemen shook hands and, as soon as Frederick entered the drawing room, Edward sprinted for the door. He could not be in this house for a second longer, lest he do something he regretted. However, as he stopped to put on his hat and gloves, he heard a soft whisper from behind him.
"Lord Herriot."
He spun around to find Amelia watching him expectantly at the bottom of the staircase. When he did not move, she stepped forward. How the blazes had she snuck up on him?
"Lady Amelia." Edward bowed, mainly so he could take an inconspicuous step back. Even with this distance between them, his skin prickled for her.
Amelia straightened her back and clasped her hands in front of her as though to shield herself. "Lord Herriot, I do not wish to make my presence...awkward for you-"
"It is not," he snapped, before taking a deep breath. He turned to study the painting on his left.
Why had she not prepared herself? She'd had an entire carriage ride to get ready for this moment and now she was completely dumb. But no matter how he reacted, she needed to say her piece.
"I do not wish to be difficult, but I need you to listen to me," Amelia continued with a sterner voice. He did not move but the slight tension in his shoulders told her he was listening. Keenly. "The last time we met, you did me the courtesy of making your feelings for me clear while I did you the disservice of obscuring mine. I did not mean to toy with you. Rather I am worried I got carried away and toyed with my own heart."
He flinched but said nothing. She could just about see the outline of his tight jaw.
"I do miss my husband," she continued, slightly out of breath. She could not believe she was saying this, risking everything for him, but every second she looked at him gave her the strength to find a way for this to work. "I will always love him. But when I returned to Denmead Hall I found myself missing you. Separately from Thomas. I miss you," she gasped. Still he did not move. "So I did not kiss you because I wish to replace my husband. I kissed you because... I think you can guess why." She could have stabbed herself for cowering out at the last moment, but she could not give up any more of herself if he just stood there without accepting it.
After nearly a minute of silence, he growled, "I think you ought to tell me why."
Amelia nearly rolled her eyes. Why was he doing this to her? "Because I love you," she snapped loudly, before gritting her teeth. She never backed down from one of his challenges, no matter what his intentions were. She felt her icy shell crawl back over her skin. "There. What do you have to say for yourself?"
"There is nothing left to say."
Amelia did not get a chance to look at his face, because the moment he turned around she was pulled into his arms and his lips pressed into hers. Far from the chaos and passion of their first kiss, his lips were softer on hers and barely moved, gently nipping her lower lip. He sent shivers all over her skin. His hands fixed around her waist, keeping her body flush against his, while hers ran up and down his arms as though to warm him up. He did not think his skin could get any hotter than when it touched hers, as he slipped his ungloved hand to hold her neck.
He could barely breathe, but he wasn't sure he needed to anymore. She stole all the air from his lungs and gave so much back.
Once again, some rattling from somewhere in the house forced them apart, but not completely. They both looked upstairs, where a flower vase was lying smashed on the top stair.
"It seems we have been caught," Edward chuckle, bringing out a hint of a smile from Amelia. "We shall have to marry now. It is a good thing that I love you too."
She would marry him and love him and honour him. She would just never tell him the truth. She could not risk losing everything.
*
The Warstones were irritatingly supportive upon hearing the news of the new engagement. Amelia never did work out who had seen them, but it did not matter as Edward came over the next morning to announce their engagement and present her with a ring, leading to a series of hugs and kisses and a lengthy discussion about their wedding ceremony.
Amelia wrote of the good news to her parents. She may have to be careful of her writing in the future with an attentive husband hovering around – she had nightmares of leaving a letter out on her writing desk only for Edward to discover it and immediately expose her as he threw her out of the house. Their house.
Edward could never know about Charity. Ever.
Preparations began for the engagement party before the wedding ceremony and breakfast, which would take place in six weeks. Amelia would be a widow for ten months when she remarried – it was not as long as was customary, but considering she was not actually a widow, she did not wish to make Edward wait another two months. It was at least long enough to confirm that she was not pregnant, which everyone cared about more than whether she had truly loved Thomas in the first place.
Amelia willed herself to care about the inanest things – what to wear, what flowers to have, what food to serve. It was a struggle. That was a part of Charity that would never disappear – who cared whether you served the perfect food at a party, so long as there was food to be served? But no, because Lady Wimpole had served pork at her daughter's wedding breakfast, everybody had to serve pork.
Amelia was in the middle of one such conversation with Madeleine, Delilah, and Christina when Edward and Frederick entered. Edward had visited his betrothed every day in the week since they had gotten engaged. Amelia had gone to his house once for tea with his mother and sister which had gone...swimmingly. Or silently, as the three ladies had nothing to talk about but the weather.
"Good morning everyone," Edward greeted with a wide grin. He presented Amelia with a small bouquet and leant down to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Good morning, Amy."
Amelia cocked an eyebrow as he sat on the sofa next to her armchair. "Amy?"
The real Lady Amelia had never had a nickname – she had always been Lady Amelia. It felt strange for her pretender to have something of her own, something she did not inherit from her crime.
"If you do not mind," said Edward with a slight blush. "I have always thought it proper for a man to have his own name for his wife."
"Proper?" Amelia repeated with narrow eyes.
Edward suppressed a smile. "Fine. Affectionate, then. I dined with Angeline recently and discovered that her husband only refers to her as Cherub."
"Well he ought to remember her name if they are to be married for the rest of their lives," Amelia quipped, earning a generous laugh from her fiancé.
"We were just discussing what Lady Amelia will wear to the ceremony," Madeleine said with a contented sigh.
Amelia rolled her eyes. "This, probably. It is one of my finer gowns. Delilah and Christina may have new gowns as my bridesmaids."
Christina peered up from behind her book. "I am to be a bridesmaid?"
"Naturally," Amelia replied shortly, though she enjoyed watching Christina and Delilah turn to one another and squeal in excitement.
"Why do you not wish for a new gown?" asked Edward.
"I will have to wear black and I do not want more mourning gowns than necessary."
Edward nodded in understanding but still appeared dismayed.
Frederick chuckled. "That is a shame. At least Edward is planning on having a new suit fitted."
Edward shot his friend a mild glare before turning back to his fiancé. "Well, you only get married once."
"Speak for yourself," Amelia muttered, earning a chuckle from her cousin and a frown from her betrothed. "Lady Madeleine, this wedding will be a good excuse for me to meet Lady Cavendish. I am beginning to wonder whether your eldest daughter even exists."
Madeleine kept a smile plastered to her face but glanced at the floor. "I am afraid Caroline will be unable to attend your wedding. She and Lord Cavendish may be travelling to the highlands."
Amelia said nothing in response, though she knew most of the room was watching for her reaction. She didn't know why she was so keen to meet Caroline, or even know more about her – perhaps she represented the final step, the final straw that Amelia needed to carry so she knew she was accepted into this family.
Frederick cleared his throat. "Amelia, as none of your cousins will be attending to the wedding, I would be happy to give you away."
Amelia allowed a small smile. "Thank you, Frederick. I would appreciate that." Perhaps she had no further to go to be accepted.
So long as she never told anybody the truth. Not even the man to her side, watching her with such unabashed glee.
*
"They shall be lucky to see me at any of their parties ever again," Amelia growled.
"I am sure she meant it kindly, dear cousin," said Frederick.
Amelia's nostrils flared. "Oh, I know what she meant."
Edward and Frederick watched Amelia pace helplessly. Upon arriving home from the modiste to purchase the bridesmaid dresses, Christina informed Frederick that one of the lady Hamptons had congratulated Amelia on her upcoming nuptials, in a less than congratulatory manner:
'A lady waits so long for her wedding. I cannot imagine your joy at having two so close together.'
"We have not even announced the wedding date," Amelia grumbled as she marched across the library. "I am never setting foot in Lord Hampton's home again. And Delilah is delusional if she believes I will help any of her friends marry."
"It...it...it could have been far worse?" Frederick stammered in a high voice. Amelia threw him a cold glare which quickly silenced him.
Edward reached forward and took hold of her arms, pulling her close. Breathing the warm air around him calmed her instantly. "We can push the wedding back to a more appropriate time. I do not mind waiting with your reputation on the line."
"No," Amelia sighed. "No. That is not necessary. We knew this would happen."
Edward nudged Amelia into an armchair which he then leant on. "It is rare that a widow remarries within a year, but I truly do not believe this will change people's opinions of you too severely."
"Well I hope Lady Hampton is enjoying the moral high ground. I know none of them cared for Thomas a jot," said Amelia, but she calmed instantly when Edward leant down to kiss her forehead.
"Their mother has been quite ill," said Frederick. "I am sure she was simply being thoughtless."
Amelia tensed again as she straightened her back. "With both of you here, there is something I have been meaning to discuss with you."
Both gentlemen perked up nervously.
"Frederick, I always believed that the family fortune would be returned to you upon my death, but...it would seem not. So I would like to arrange to have it returned to you."
Amelia waited for Edward to tense beside her. Instead, she felt some warmth on her left cheek. Without looking she could tell his was smiling.
Frederick's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as he fell into his armchair. "Amelia, you do not need to do this. Keep it for your own children. We are all happy for you."
She shook her head. "I always respected my husband, but I did not always agree with him. You do not deserve to suffer because of bad blood between your father and my late father-in-law. Now I have the power to undo his decision – neither of us should be forced to follow him. You should be able to become the Marquess you choose to be."
Edward said nothing but she felt him flinch before he reached down to squeeze her shoulder.
Frederick broke out his unabashed smile once again. "Thank you, Amelia. I promise you that as soon as the fortune is mine, I will place as generous a dowry as I can muster upon you."
"That will not be necessary," said Edward seriously. "I can provide for her."
The money was always intended for the Warstone family – Amelia stole it to survive. To spoil herself with it when she would already have a husband far wealthier than she had ever dreamed was wrong.
But she was not a saint.
"I do have two conditions before the money is transferred," Amelia continued. Frederick's smile dropped as he leant forward to listen. "First of all, whatever dowry you set on your sisters must become available to them at the age of five-and-twenty, whether or not they marry. With a family fortune this large they should not be forced to marry for money. They must be allowed to live as they choose."
Frederick's eyes brightened. "I know they will appreciate that."
"And I want one other thing in exchange," said Amelia. "Denmead Hall. It was my home for eight years and you have shown no interest in it. You will have every other estate my husband possessed – all I ask for in return is my home."
"Of course," said Frederick, nodding vigorously. "On the condition that we may be permitted to visit you from time to time."
"Preferably after having been invited," Edward teased. "Come. We have some final preparations for the party."
Amelia rolled her eyes before taking her fiancé's arm. "Is that still necessary? The wedding has been announced."
Edward leant over to whisper into her ear, his hot breath caressing her lobe. "You never know, Amy. You might just enjoy yourself."
*
It would take some years of recuperation before Amelia ever hosted an event again. Lady Madeleine and the current Countess of Holbeck had arranged the majority of this party, but every decision always came back to Amelia – and there were so many decisions to make! Women ought to be paid to do this kind of chore. She had no idea how ladies did this regularly. Luckily the Countess seemed keen to plan parties, so even when she was married Amelia was sure she would be able to slide those duties over to her mother-in-law.
Attending them was no more fun than the planning process. With so many people talking to her about her upcoming nuptials, Amelia had no choice but to let her cold shell overcome her once again. After only a couple of hours she was tired of the whole affair, but retiring would do no good as she was sure she would be able to hear the party from her chambers.
She could hear too much already. Only a few feet away from her, a gaggle of gentlemen were conversing by the refreshments table.
"Holbeck certainly did not wait long."
"Maybe the Marchioness could not wait. You know what they say about widows."
"She swore she would never marry but a little something must have persuaded her."
"Ignore them," Lady Maldon's voice rang out to her left.
Amelia stepped to the side to allow Lady Maldon to stand next to her and watch the dance floor. "What would be the fun in that?" she asked, before fixing the gentlemen with the bloodiest stare she could muster. They froze almost immediately before dispersing without saying a word. As the crowd cleared, Amelia saw Edward was watching her from the other side of the room. They nodded to one another before Amelia turned back to Lady Maldon and Edward attempted to engage in his conversation with one of Henry's friends.
"I told you he always stared at you," Lady Maldon said with a smug smile. When Amelia said nothing, she continued, "It is a shame your family will not be attending the wedding. Lord Goddard and his wife."
Amelia had written to them about her marriage, but she had yet to post the letter – she hoped to be well away on her honeymoon by the time they found out, giving them no incentive to come to London to call on her.
"We were not close," she replied shortly.
Her life would always be like this. Skulking around the edges of parties because she could not dance, praying that every obstacle in this scheme would disappear without her having to act behind her husband's back.
But when she turned to see him crossing the room towards her, concern flooding his features, she knew it was all worth it.
"Anything the matter, Amy?" he asked as she threaded her arm through his.
"Nothing that I would not expect," she explained monotonously, but he could feel her tight grip on his arm.
Lady Maldon eyed the couple for a moment before gliding away saying, "I think I shall find where Lady Christina is hiding. I may be able to push her onto the dance floor."
As soon as she was gone, Edward placed his spare hand over Amelia's arm and began tugging her backwards. She followed him wordlessly as they slipped through the distracted crowd and into the library. And watched him close the door behind them.
He turned around and placed his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs reaching her dress' neckline and lightly brushing her collarbone. "Truly, are you well?"
Amelia allowed her body to relax in his grip. "I imagine you heard what they said."
"No, but I saw the look you gave them. I hope never to be on the receiving end of it." Edward rubbed his hands down to her elbows before bringing them back up to her shoulders, then brushing up her neck until his warm hands were cupping her cheeks.
The skin on her throat felt cool as her hot flush crawled up her body. "Do you have a look as stern as that somewhere inside you?"
Edward grinned. "I do not know if you are wicked enough to find out."
"People will notice we have left our own engagement party," said Amelia with a coy smirk.
Edward blushed. "They are hardly going to suspect anything worse than what the ton already thinks of us."
He blushed so rarely that Amelia felt her face grow hot. She stepped forward, trying to see if she could make him blush deeper in this dark room. "What do they think of us?" He simply grunted, colour running down his throat. "What on earth could they think we are up to?"
"Perhaps taking you away from the party was a mistake," he said, but he didn't attempt to move.
Amelia knew this situation ought to offend a lady's sensibilities, but she had experienced more run-ins than most unmarried ladies – and even some who had been wed for a while. It was lucky she was imitating a widow, otherwise Edward might ask why there was no blood on the sheets during their wedding night.
Their wedding night felt decades away, not a matter of days. Amelia knew she could be patient, but she also knew she could push.
She pushed her body and her lips into his, earning a grunt from him. He began to flush deeper as she dragged her teeth against his lips and he opened his mouth to consume her more deeply. He could never consume her deeply enough – she felt infinite. He kept his hands on her cheeks, feeling the little bit of soft skin that he could touch.
Amelia wrapped one arm around Edward's neck and another around his waist to pull his whole body closer – his clothes made him rough and uneven, all she wanted was to rip them off of him and run her fingers over his smooth skin. Heat pooled in her stomach, and beneath that a spot she knew very well began to hum, making her body shiver. Her legs quivered and she found herself gripping Edward to stay upright, which only encouraged him to press his body against hers.
Before she could think beyond the feeling of something deep inside her pulling and stretching her, she pushed. She pushed Edward down onto the sofa behind them and climbed on top of him before the cold of being parted from him started setting in. Life was so cold without him.
Edward only had a few seconds to study his fiancée as she fixed her legs either side of his and lowered herself onto his lap. There was no place he would rather be trapped. He leaned back to fully take in her figure, barely a silhouette but still undeniably her. Even with her breasts heaving, her long neck held her head up proudly.
He placed his hands back on her cheeks, before slowly drawing them down her body, trying to feel what he could not see. Her collar bone, her soft skin, her covered breasts – what he would give to tear all her clothing from her and study her in the best-lit room in the house.
Edward memorised the feel of everything beneath his hands before resting them on her waist as she dove in to press her lips to his again. The naturally sweet taste in her mouth flooded him, tinged with a slight bit of lemonade they had both drunk that evening. Her lips were soft and yet somehow strong, and quickly moved from his mouth to his cheek, down to his throat until they found his pulse.
"If we do not stop-" he gasped, but she silenced him with a kiss.
She pulled back only slightly to whisper, "I do not wish to stop."
Thankfully music for the waltz drowned out the moans he tried to muffle by pressing his face into her lavender-scented hair. Edward knew he ought to be waltzing with Amelia, but this was so much more delicious. When was the last time someone had reduced him to this? He wanted to grab her, pull her under him, and thrust into her until she was screaming, but he could not will himself to move from this spot. He sighed deeply into her ear, a sigh which travelled through her, making her heart thump and her hips twitch.
She felt his hands run down her hips, her rear, and her thighs, leaving a burning trail behind them that she could feel even with her clothes in the way. Once he reached her hem, he pushed her up slightly to roll up her skirt. As it bundled around her waist, she hissed into his throat when he was left with nothing but her bare thighs to grip. She surged her hips closer to his – her inner thigh, now free from her clothing, felt something hot and hard poking. Amelia dug her nails into the back of the sofa and clenched her jaw to keep herself from crying out.
The second she pulled herself away, enough clarity returned to Edward's mind to let him grip her thighs tighter to press a red handprint into the creamy skin as he whispered, "I love you, Amy."
She responded with a kiss as she placed her hands on the buttons of his trousers. Their hands worked together in a frenzy as they lowered them before shifting Amelia's drawers to the side and both were exposed.
There was a second where either of them could have turned away. They could have apologised for their behaviour, redressed, and agreed to wait until their wedding night as was proper and genteel and right. They both hesitated, letting the other know it was completely acceptable to walk away.
When neither of them moved, Amelia gasped, "I want you, Edward."
The words set him on fire. He slid his hand up her thigh until he could feel her moist, pulsating skin. She kissed him to keep herself from screaming as he began to move his thumb in circles, only stopping when she took hold of him and slowly lowered herself down onto his lap, full and trembling.
They panted together, the small space between their lips heating up enough for it to feel as though they were still kissing. She rose up and bore down on him slowly at first, savouring every second that he was inside her. He quickly began pushing his hips up to meet hers, pushing their bodies as close together as possible.
They moved together for a precious time, not long enough. Both of them felt the heat building between them, within them. Amelia rocked her hips faster and faster. Her skin felt too tight, like it was pulling in every direction. She shuddered each time he rose up to meet her. The small circles his thumb made shot fire through her body.
Amelia rose up and pushed herself down once more before she could no longer control her body. It was like everything inside her suddenly turned to water, her blood rushing and racing around her while her bones went lip and something within her womb burst like a dam. She was flooded with a heat that made her shake to her core.
As soon as Amelia found her release, Edward was lost. He locked his arms around her hips, pulled her close, and bit the edge of her dress to keep in the roar inside of him as he felt the tightness building within him snap.
The air rushed out of his body, only returning to him when Amelia's body collapsed onto his and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He moved his hands up to her waist and held her against him. The waltz ended, leaving them both to enjoy the sounds of their sighs.
*
"We will have to return to the party eventually," Edward murmured into her ear, before pressing yet another kiss to her forehead. He brushed her loosened hair back to kiss her temple, and then her cheek, and then returned to her forehead.
Amelia slowly pulled herself so she was sitting upright and set about fixing her coiffeur. "That is one benefit of not having a lady's maid," she chuckled. "One learns to do these things for oneself, even in the dark." She fiddled with her pins until her hair was as neat, if not neater, than when she first entered the ballroom, before brushing Edward's hair until it was smooth. In the darkness she could still see his eyes glistening as they watched her in fascination.
Finally Amelia stood, readjusting her drawers and skirts in the most ladylike way she could. In that unglamourous moment, she was thankful for the shelter of darkness. Edward meanwhile stood and pulled his trousers back up.
"If they have noticed, we shall have to tell people that their comments did in fact distress me and you took me off to console me with some refreshments," ordered Amelia softly.
Edward chuckled. "My oh my, what a liar you are. I shall have to be careful of you."
Even in the darkness, he could sense her flinch. Was the prospect of reality making her regret what they had done?
"I am so glad to be marrying you, Amy," he sighed. He relaxed as soon as he saw the corner of her lip quirking. "I shall return to the party. Wait here five minutes before you follow." With a quick kiss to her forehead, he was gone.
Anybody who had noticed the couple's twenty-minute absence said nothing.
*
I shall have to be careful of you.
He had no idea how careful he would have to be. He had no idea what she was capable of.
Lying through her teeth throughout their marriage? Was she truly capable of that?
He had called her Amy. Maybe going forward she would not have to suffer as Charity had or cause as much misery as Amelia had – she could be Amy. She could be honest. She wanted to be honest.
If she was to tell him, it had to be soon. Before the wedding. She had been so determined to never lose him that she never considered giving the man she loved the chance to walk away.
After what they had just shared together, after letting him see a piece of her that so few had, Amelia could believe that maybe he would not take that chance at all. She slept with a ridiculous grin inspired by the memories of him.