The Unwanted Earl (29 page)
Authors: Ruth J. Hartman
Lucy hurried to them as they neared, the long grass swishing against the hem of her dress. “I’m so happy for you both.” She hugged Amelia and took Conrad’s hand briefly.
“
Thank you, Lucy. That means quite a lot.” Conrad lifted his mouth in a smile.
Oliver joined them. He nodded to Amelia and reached out to shake Conrad’s hand. “I wish for you all the best.”
A slight pinkish hue traced up Conrad’s cheeks. Amelia tilted her head. She must ask Conrad someday about his history with those two. Something told her it would be quite the interesting tale.
“
There you are!” Conrad’s mother, now the Dowager Duchess of Lofton, rushed to them. “We thought you’d gotten lost.”
Conrad raised an eyebrow. “Mother, really… We’re only a few minutes behind you.”
She placed gloved hands on rounded hips. “Conrad, could you not wait for…
that
…
until after the reception?”
Amelia gasped.
“
Mother.”
“
Now see here.” Amelia’s mother stepped forward. “How dare you say that my daughter would do
that?”
“
She’ll be doing
that
soon enough. It’s quite common, you know.”
Amelia’s mother huffed out a loud breath. “Well! I
never
.”
“
You must have at least once.” The Dowager Duchess pointed to Amelia.
“
Mother, please!” Conrad stomped his boot, causing a cloud of dust to rise. He coughed, but before he could retrieve his handkerchief, Amelia reached into his coat pocket and handed it to him.
He turned to her and blinked. “Thank you.”
“
You’re welcome.” She looked forward to all of her duties as his wife, even small ones. To her it took so little effort, but to Conrad, it seemed of the utmost importance.
Then it shall be important to me as well, from now on.
A small table had been set up beneath the shade of an enormous oak tree. Glasses of Madeira sat waiting.
Conrad tucked his handkerchief away and smiled at Amelia. “Ready to celebrate?”
“
Always.” She giggled and covered her mouth.
“
Amelia. Control yourself.” Mother’s frown was formidable enough to frighten away an entire flock of crows. Too bad such a flock was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps they would carry her off somewhere…
Be nice, Amelia. It’s your wedding day.
Conrad pulled her closer. “Please,
don’t
bother controlling yourself on my account.”
Amelia gasped, but sputtered another laugh.
From behind them, she recognized her mother’s
tsk-tsk.
After today, I won’t be
subjected to that any more. At least not every day.
A maid handed the wedding couple glasses, and then served the others. Amelia’s father hadn’t said much during the ceremony, and now looked… She squinted. Was he
crying?
Mr. Talbot swiped moisture from his eyes. She’d like to believe it was because he would miss her, but she knew him well enough to know better. He was crying on his own behalf. With Amelia gone, there would be no one to intercede between him and her mother when Mrs. Talbot was in one of her tempers.
Which was often. Unfortunately.
Conrad raised his glass. “I know this is an unconventional venue for a reception, but it’s my wife’s favorite place on earth. Thank you for joining us to wish us well.”
The Dowager Duchess
harrumphed
and didn’t bother to lower her voice. “I cannot fathom why anyone would find this place enjoyable. It’s repulsive, disgusting—”
Conrad glared at her, his eyes narrowing to mere slits. “Please refrain from saying another word on the matter.”
“
Well, I-I—”
“
This is
Amelia’s
day and I intend to do everything in my power to make it special. For
her.”
Amelia grabbed his hand and gave it a hearty squeeze. Was the warmth in her chest a sign that her heart was melting? How had she ended up married to the man of her dreams, when she’d set out only to avoid marrying an octogenarian with tentacles? “Thank you, Conrad.” She blinked her eyes against tears that threatened to fall.
“
My pleasure.” He looked deep into her eyes. Could he see into her soul as well? Her legs unsteady, she grasped his hand even tighter for balance. Those piercing blue eyes would be her undoing every time. Of that she had no doubt. Especially tonight, once they were finally alone… A shiver ran through her, imagining his kisses, his touch…
Oliver raised his glass. “Here’s to two very special people. I’m delighted that you’ve found each other and wish for you a most happy life. May your love increase daily.”
“
Thank you.” Amelia felt heat touch her cheeks. Were they red?
Conrad’s mother took a swig of her drink and plunked the glass on the table. “Well I for one have had about all I care to take of this particular celebration.”
Conrad turned and opened his mouth as if to speak, but wasn’t given the chance. Amelia’s mother frowned. “And I’ve had all I care to hear from the likes of
you
.”
“
Well!” The Dowager Duchess darted out her hand and grabbed Amelia’s mother’s arm. She pinched her fingers together, causing the other woman to howl in pain.
A scuffle ensued, with hitting, kicking, and… spitting.
Amelia sucked in a breath, unable to believe the atrocious sight. A look at Conrad showed him to be doing the same. His mouth hung open.
The mothers scratched and fought like two cats tied together in a wet sack, screeching and yelling. They pushed and shoved, eventually ending up very close to the edge of the pond. Ducks flapped their wings and
quacked
, as if cheering them on.
And then…
Water shot into the air as someone fell into the pond. As soon as the gush of water collapsed, Amelia could see who still stood on the bank, drenched, and who had taken an impromptu swim.
She raised one eyebrow. “Oh dear.
My
mother just pushed your mother into the pond.”
Conrad rolled his eyes. “I suppose we should rescue her…” Although he took not a single step in that direction.
“
Now
your
mother is cursing. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard that particular word used in that particular way.” Amelia winced. “Sounds uncomfortable.”
“
Oh believe me.
I’ve
heard it before. My whole life.”
“
The good news is, if she’s able to curse, then we know at least she’s not drowning.”
“
True.” Instead of heading to the pond and the wet mothers, Conrad wrapped his arms around Amelia’s waist. He pulled her close as he leaned down and gently kissed her, his lips caressing hers. Soft, gentle, but insistent. A kiss that promised more, much more after the reception had ended. When they were alone and could do as they liked. Amelia cared not that others could see them.
Let them look
.
She smiled against Conrad’s mouth and felt his lips rise in answer.
Another splash came from the pond. With a sigh, Conrad ended the kiss and peered in that direction. “It seems your mother is in the pond as well.”
Amelia turned and squinted. “Now they’re wrestling. How
nice
.” She angled her head and listened. “I
do
believe your mother has taught mine a few new words.”
“
Welcome to the family, darling.”
“
At least we know it will never be boring…”
Conrad tilted back his head and laughed. “No, that’s something our lives will never be.”
The End
About the Author
Bestselling author Ruth J. Hartman spends her days herding cats and her nights spinning sweet romantic tales that make you smile, giggle, or laugh out loud. She, her husband, and their three cats love to spend time curled up in their recliners watching old Cary Grant movies. Well, the cats, Maxwell, Roxy, and Remmie, sit in the people's recliners. Not that the cats couldn't get their own furniture. They just choose to shed on someone else's. You know how selfish those little furry creatures can be.
Ruth, a left-handed, cat-herding, Jeep driving, farmhouse-dwelling romance writer uses her goofy sense of humor as she writes tales of lovable, klutzy women and the men who adore them. Ruth's husband and best friend, Garry, reads her manuscripts, rolls his eyes at her weird story ideas, and loves her in spite of her penchant for insisting all of her books have at least one cat in them. Or twelve. But hey, who's counting?
Also by Ruth J. Hartman
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Lucy Ashbrook finds a pleasant diversion when she visits the Regent's Park Bird Sanctuary to sketch the different birds that live there. Birds aren't the only pleasing thing she finds, though. A certain Sanctuary worker, Oliver Barrow, has stolen her heart. But Lucy's father will have none of it. No daughter of his will marry a common laborer.
Oliver Barrow loves everything about his work at the Sanctuary. The birds, the trees, the ponds...a certain young miss who mesmerizes him. Miss Ashbrook is beautiful and sweet and shares his love of birds. But Oliver has a secret that just might get in the way of anything more than friendship developing between them. And he can't share that secret with her. Not yet.
How can Lucy convince her father of Oliver's worth? That love isn't just for the birds?
Romancing the Dustman’s Daughter
Augustus Sinclair has a broken heart. His betrothed has dropped him for his best friend. Former best friend. When he meets Anne Balfour, though, he questions whether he’d ever really been in love with his fiancé. Some of Anne’s reactions to what he considers everyday activities are puzzling, but that doesn’t stop him from falling head over heels for the first time in his life.
Anne Balfour is amazed to be a guest at the Shrewsbury’s, one of Mayfair’s most well-to-do families — even if the circumstances are less than ideal. Still, she can’t help but get caught up in the excitement of society life. Especially when in the company of Augustus Sinclair. He makes her believe in love and romance, even if she is just the dustman’s daughter.
