He checked his fob watch again. What was taking his bride so long this morning? Perhaps she had the jittery feet? It was up to Landon to get her here, as he’d volunteered to give her away. And who was Nick to refuse after all the earl had done for them? Landon had been the first to offer his assistance when Amelia was kidnapped, and he saw what that bastard Shauley had done to Amelia.
And through the whole ordeal, not once did Landon judge Nick’s actions. Or comment on the indiscretions Nick had committed with Amelia. Nor was there disapproval from Landon’s wife, Meredith, who had spent the morning assisting his bride in getting ready. He tucked his watch back into his waistcoat, determined to show the world that he was not worried Amelia might change her mind and leave him standing at the altar.
That wasn’t something she would do.
She was steadfast, loving. Far more than Nick deserved.
A strange emotion filled Nick’s chest, something sentimental—and not something familiar to him. Everything was different with Amelia. She made him a different person, a better man. Not having her in his life was something he simply couldn’t contemplate.
All he knew was that without her . . . he was nothing.
The door at the front of the church opened, allowing the morning sun to light the path his bride would take. Hart put his arm around Nick’s shoulders and physically turned him toward the minister at the front. Nick nearly glared at his friend, but he recalled some superstition that said it was bad luck for the future husband to watch his bride walking toward him. So he inhaled deeply and waited.
This was finally it . . .
A new beginning for them both.
CHAPTER TWO
Even after the early morning hours spent in Lady Burley’s company, Amelia still had trouble swallowing the fact that today was the day she would become Mrs. Riley.
Married! Her! It was definitely not something she had ever expected when she’d run away from home and come to London. The thought hadn’t even crossed her mind.
That wasn’t to say that when she was a little girl she hadn’t dreamed of her perfect wedding. She recalled with fondness walking down an imaginary aisle, using rows of wildflowers that grew in the countryside as her path. Wreaths of flowers crowned her head and wrapped around her waist like a medieval princess as she stepped toward her very own imaginary knight in shining armor.
It amazed her every day that she’d found that knight in Nick, as he was forever rescuing her.
Her stomach turned over, uneasy and nervous, excited and so ecstatic she thought she might burst with the happiness that infused her. Permanent goose bumps marched the length of her arms, and her heart intermittently raced between every breath she took.
The fact that she was walking down the aisle toward Nick did nothing to settle the anxiety that strummed through her the moment the church doors opened.
At least thirty sets of eyes were focused on her, all present to witness her and Nick’s marriage. How Nick managed to invite so many of the townsfolk in the five days it had taken to prepare for the occasion was nothing short of a miracle. And having so many people here made her feel immense guilt at having avoided them prior to the wedding.
The whole situation seemed unreal, and she wanted to pinch herself just to be sure today was real, that it truly was happening. As she and Nick grew closer, this was exactly what she wanted. Marriage to a man she loved. The only man with whom she had ever fallen in love, which wasn’t to say that she was long in the tooth, just . . . inexperienced. There had been very few good examples of kind and caring men where she’d grown up.
Amelia tightened her grip on the Earl of Burley’s arm. From the moment he learned of her and Nick’s engagement, he had insisted on walking her down the aisle. It was a kind gesture, as her father was dead and couldn’t give her away to the man she loved. Amelia had been grateful for Lord Burley’s offer and delighted that he wasn’t the only person to offer. Nick’s other friend, Hart, had requested to fill the role. She’d met Hart on only a few occasions, but he was always kind to her.
As they headed toward the front of the church, Nick already faced the minister who would marry them. Amelia couldn’t help but wonder if the minister’s willingness to assist in their special marriage license stemmed from pity, but she banished the thought before it took root and led her down another path of doubt. Lady Burley was right. Today was a special day—one for celebration and not a time to focus on bad memories.
Amelia focused on the minister, who had a ring of gray hair around his head that made him look like a friar of long-past years. His eyes were blue and twinkling in welcome. His smile was gentle and beckoned her closer.
Her stomach was a jumble of butterflies.
Sensing her unease, Lord Burley patted her arm reassuringly. She wished that was all the comfort she needed and forced herself to take long, steady breaths to keep from fainting.
It would be the height of embarrassment to have to use smelling salts to revive the bride. That thought made her chuckle and helped to keep her mind fixed on the finish line.
Nick turned to look at her, and the breath stilled in her lungs. His gray gaze reassured her and chased away the last of her qualms.
He didn’t take his eyes off her. There were so many emotions swirling between them that she was sure everyone in the church felt the love radiating outward. Another of her breaths hitched, and Nick gave her a wicked smile before he faced the minister again.
Nick Riley would be her husband.
Husband!
As they neared the front of the large church, so grand for such a small affair, she turned to face Lord Burley, tears of happiness in her eyes. Lord Burley left her veil in place and gave her arms a gentle squeeze, the faint outline of a smile tugging at his lips.
“I hope you find the same happiness I have found in marriage,” he said, his voice quiet, the words meant for her alone. Then, a little louder, he said, “If Nick gives you any difficulties, I’ll be sure to straighten him out.”
Amelia ducked her head, embarrassed, and hoped only a few people heard Lord Burley’s comment. She would work out her own problems and insecurities with Nick directly. What they shared was private and for them only.
“Thank you for your generosity,” she said faintly.
He leaned in close enough to whisper in her ear. “It is my pleasure. And you make a lovely bride.”
Without further ado, Lord Burley turned her toward the front so the ceremony could begin and remained close to her left side, to bear witness to her and Nick’s union.
So many thoughts went through her mind that she didn’t so much as hear a word the minister uttered, only watched his lips move.
When Nick said “I will,” she forced herself to focus. To listen to the words that would bind them for eternity.
All she could hear was an incessant buzzing in her ears, not absorbing any of the words the minister said, and then Nick was turning her toward him, his warm hand infusing her chilled one, not that he could tell, since she was wearing gloves, but his body heat wrapped around her like a blanket on a cold night.
In that moment where he held her hand tenderly, everything grounded in reality.
Everything was right.
“Wilt thou serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?” the minister asked of her.
She did not hesitate. “I will.”
This man standing before her held her whole heart in his hands. That was how much she loved him—and she trusted him to keep her heart safe. She only had eyes for Nick at that point. It was as though only the two of them existed in the church.
Nick took her arm as the church clerk led them over to the signing table. Amelia picked up the pen and wrote her true name for the last time.
Amelia Celina Montgomery Somerset. The Somerset name was dead after this. In twenty-five years, that name had brought her more misery than joy. She could move on and forg
et all the ugliness of her past. And more than anything, she was glad to say good-bye to her position as the daughter of an earl and the obligation she felt holding that title.
She was free. Free from the duties of her old life. Free from the life that had been her prison for far too long.
She was now Mrs. Nicholas Riley. And nothing gave her greater joy than repeating her new name to herself.
Nick took the pen from her hand and repeated the process. When he turned to her, his hand tenderly cupped the side of her face over the veil. She wanted to kiss him and claim him in front of everyone present, but she could not be so bold in a house of God. Nor did she wish to reveal the damage of her brief imprisonment, still visible on her face—the cosmetics only dulled them to the eye—but safely hidden by her veil.
“You are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever laid eyes upon,” Nick said, and it melted her heart to hear those words.
Nick’s hand slid away from her face to grasp her hand. He led her out of the church. His focus was solely on her, as though she were the only person to look at—as though it was only the two of them here witnessing this great event.
A carriage waited just outside, ready to take them back to the inn. As they made their way to the open barouche, guests threw seeds and nuts over their heads that rained upon them in a rite of fertility. It shouldn’t surprise her that everything down to the finest detail had been planned for them while she hid in her room, ashamed that she had once again been the victim of another’s hatred.
This one moment of normalcy brought more tears to her eyes.
Her wedding day proved to be the most perfect day in her life.
Before she knew it, Nick was handing her up into the carriage, pulled by two white geldings, champing at their bits to be given free rein.
“How ever did you procure them?” She leaned forward, wishing for a better look at the beautiful animals, wishing she could touch them in all their majesty.
Nick hauled her down next to him on the soft velvet seat and pressed his fingers to her veil-covered lips. “We didn’t have time to plan a wedding more deserving—”
“Nick . . . ”
“It’s a gift. One of many I intend to shower you with.”
Amelia lowered her gaze, but she couldn’t hide from Nick for long; his fingers were beneath her chin, lifting her face, forcing her to look at him and see the truth in his eyes.
“Don’t shy away from me, Amelia.”
“Today has been everything I ever wished for—and everything I never imagined possible. I’m overwhelmed by the emotions flooding me. By the love I feel for you . . . by everything. Oh, Nick, today has been so perfect I can’t find the right words of gratitude.”
“Words aren’t needed.”
Nick’s hands gathered up the lace of her veil. Amelia grasped his wrist before he could reveal her face. The carriage hadn’t yet moved, and she wasn’t ready to share her wounds with the world, even though it was only a matter of time before she would have to face all the kind people who had attended their wedding.
“I will kiss my bride and claim you in front of our friends and guests.”
Amelia gave a sidelong glance toward their audience, waving good-bye and cheering for them. What did she have to lose in ceding to Nick’s one wish?
“Trust me,” he said.
Nick’s hands engulfed hers, and he lowered them to her lap, quashing her efforts to try to pull the veil back in place. He used his free hand to gather up the delicate gauze. As the last bit of Chantilly lace cleared her mouth, Nick laid his lips upon hers.
There was latent promise in the fold of his mouth over hers. It was like he was daring her, pushing her boundaries to see just how far she’d go. Would she deny herself something she wanted as much as he did? If she were a braver person, she would have lifted her veil in front of the guests, but she still wasn’t ready to take that step. Instead, she pulled away, thankful the veil hid her furious blush from everyone who cheered them on.
“Wave good-bye to our guests, Amelia. I’m about to steal you away for what remains of the week.”
“The week?” Panic set in.
“You’re my wife.” Nick turned his steady gaze on her, looking at her like he wanted to eat her up. “No one will judge us for not coming out of our room for the foreseeable near future.”
Amelia laughed, though nerves might have caused her reaction more than mirth of the situation. “You have a wicked sense of humor and a devil of a tongue to tease me so. In case you have forgotten, our wedding dinner is planned for this evening,” she reminded him.
“I don’t tease. I promise. Dinner is something we can worry about much later.” Nick leaned in and kissed her again.
As the horses pulled the barouche forward, Nick sat down beside her and hauled her onto his lap. She went with a squeal of delight. And they both waved to the guests that still stood outside the church.
Nick took one of her hands and pulled off her glove. He kissed the inside of her wrist, eliciting from her a sound crossed between surprise and desire.
“I want to take you here and now,” he said. “I would if we didn’t have so many witnesses.”
His directness sometimes had a way of throwing her off balance, and it took a bit to mumble a response. “You say such bold and wicked things, husband.”
“There’s not a person in this world that I care for as I do you. And now, you are officially mine.” His hand shamelessly curled around her ribs, his thumb brushing the underside of her breast as he held her close.
Amelia curled one arm around his shoulder. “And I adore you above all. I would not have married you otherwise.”
Nick pressed her back against the bench, holding himself above her with a look in his eyes that almost dared her to stop him. “Do you honestly believe you had a choice in the matter?”
It was not a question. He was making a statement.
She shook her head. Marrying him had been the one thing she wanted from him as much as she wanted his commitment and love. When she thought about the past few weeks, she couldn’t believe her luck in finding a man she adored and loved so much.
“Anyone can see what we are doing.” Including the driver, though that didn’t need to be said aloud, for he was thankfully facing the open road and seemed to be ignoring them.
“Let them all know I’m enamoured of my new wife. That I can’t keep my eyes off you, let alone my hands.” He lowered his face, his lips hovering above hers. “Or my mouth. I want to kiss every blushing part of your body and drag my tongue around every curve of skin and taste the pleasure you feel.”
Hearing those daring words tumble so easily from his lips should have her pushing him away, but she liked his strength and virility so strong above her. Nick wasn’t the kind of man to lie, and it wasn’t above him to take whatever he wanted when he wanted it.
She nudged his arm. “You are a beast.”
“I like the ring of that,” he said with a growl.
“You will have to prove that point when we are ensconced in our bedroom,” she teased. The simmering look in his eyes told her he would show her what he’d said and so much more.
Nick sat on the bench beside her, their thighs brushing. He looked like a man deprived of the one thing he wanted. She was glad that was her.
They remained in companionable silence the rest of the short ride back to their lodgings. Nick’s hands rubbed small circles at the base of Amelia’s back. His intent to claim her lips—and her body—was clear in his gaze. He only broke eye contact with her when the carriage stopped outside the inn.
Amelia took his hand on her descent. Her feet didn’t have time to touch the ground before Nick swooped her up into his arms.
“Put me down.” She was laughing as she made her request. “I feel absolutely ridiculous.”
“I plan to carry you over every threshold in this house and do not plan on setting you down until you are in my bed.”
She grinned. “You mean our bed.”
Nick practically ran into the inn, but just before they hit the stairs that led up to their room, Amelia placed one hand over the side of his face. She turned him enough that she could kiss him full on the mouth now that they were in the relative privacy. Though their kiss was chaste, it stirred desire deep in her belly.
When their lips parted, Nick took the stairs two at a time to their room, easily opening the door and then kicking it shut behind them. She was holding on for dear life by the time they entered their bedchambers. She was laughing so hard that her ribs ached in her tightly laced corset. But that laughter died in her lungs when he set her down on the bed.
Nerves assailed her every sense. Her reaction seemed ridiculous considering everything they’d already done. But this was their wedding night. She didn’t need to be a virgin to be anxious about what the night would bring.
“Do you suppose they will know what we are doing?” she asked shyly.
“I should hope so.” Nick grinned wickedly as he leaned over her.
His lips were a warm, teasing breath away. Now she could do what she’d been dying to do since she’d seen him standing in the church this morning. She brushed her lace-covered lips over his and pulled away. It was a teasing touch.
“You shouldn’t say such things.” Secretly, she hoped he’d say the wickedest of things for the rest of their days.
“It’s our wedding night. It would be odd if we spent the rest of our afternoon in the company of our guests when I can think of many better ways to utilize our time.”
“But your friends are here to spend the evening in celebration with us. It makes me feel as if we are doing something wrong.”
Nick gathered up the delicate material of the veil, finally revealing her face; though he was well aware of the wounds she carried from that night.
His thumb traced the faint bruise near her lip and then the jagged half-healed cut along her hairline. “You have nothing to feel guilty about. The night is ours, and everyone knows that.”
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