Page 25 of Wicked with Him

“The problem of how to see you again, and alone, and not ruin your reputation a second time. I’m currently pretending to be your scoundrel of a husband, come to win my reluctant wife over. Might I come in?”

Her lips parted in a gasp but no sound came out at all.

To be honest, after a few minutes of that he became a bit flustered that she didn’t readily go along with his scheme or say no to it.

Though, it was a bit of a wild one, even for him.

She regarded the flowers in her hand, frowning down at the bunch. “Yes, I think you’d best come in, sir, to explain yourself.”

He crossed her threshold, relieved to have made it this far, and looked around immediately in case there was a servant hovering nearby.

Amity marched away from him. “Mary, would you put these in water and prepare tea? I have an unexpected visitor.”

A young woman with dull brown hair poked her head around the distant doorway, mouth agape as she took him in.

“That’s him,” the woman whispered to Amity. “The one who was asking about you in the village.”

“Yes, I’m sure it was. Never mind that now and do as I ask.”

Mary looked around Amity and gave him a once over. Roman pegged her immediately as something of a town gossip. Not five minutes after she finished for the day, the local women would hear about Amity’s visitor. Wonder about him. Speculate and spread the word until eventually everyone would come to believe Roman was Amity’s scandalous husband in the flesh.

Once the locals put his face to her husband’s name, she should never be bothered again by scoundrels who came knocking on her door.

Amity turned back to Roman.

Aware that there was still someone else in the house, Roman kept up the ruse of a husband come begging and gripped his hat in his hands tightly. “I’ve come to ask you to take me back.”

Amity rolled her eyes. “You know it’s too late for that.”

“It’s never too late when there’s love,” he swore, leaning into his part as best he could.

Her eyes closed briefly as the maid appeared with the bouquet of flowers, now in a water jug for a vase. The maid fussed, and when Amity opened her eyes again, she seemed near to tears. She even sniffed as she sank into an armchair. “But you love her.”

He reeled from Amity’s display of heartbreak and hurried to sit on a stool near her feet. He drew on his experience with Melody to form an appropriate answer. “She’s married now, and likely never not to be,” he promised. “But that’s over and done with. I only have eyes for you.”

The maid smiled as she fiddled with the placement of the vase across the room, making a show of separating out the stems—all the while watching for Amity’s reaction to his pleas for a second chance.

“I want to believe you,” she whispered.

“You know you can,” he promised. “I learned my lesson, sweetheart.”

The maid swept from the room at last and then there was silence.

Amity scowled at him fiercely. “This farce is beyond the pale.”

“I think it suits both of our needs,” he promised in a low tone. “We could have a splendid few days together, and then have a row or something else dire could come between us to send me on my way again.”

Amity raised her finger to her lips, cautioning him silently not to say another word.

He’d no intention of having any sort of serious row with Amity. But he did need time to prove himself worthy of a second chance. He was confident that if they spent time together, if he courted her, she’d discover he was more than just a means to an end.

The maid returned quickly, bearing a tea tray and a plate of biscuits but it was obvious she was straining to hear every word they exchanged.

“Thank you, Mary. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Amity said firmly, dismissing her servant, and then stood when the woman left the room.

She went to peek out the windows and looked outside.

“Finally, she’s gone.” Amity turned about, hands on her hips. “So, you want to spend a few days pretending we’re husband and wife? Why? Just for the thrill of it? Are you mad?”