Page 40 of Wicked with Him

Amity almost toppled over in dread but with Roman by her side, holding her elbow tightly, she knew she was safer now than she’d ever been around George.

However, Ravenswood drew her away from her husband and wrapped her arm around his instead, before pulling her outside toward the hedged garden square where the family must be gathered all together, given the increasing noise.

The new duke leaned toward her. “Did you enjoy your journey?”

“Dry, for the most part.”

“I meant toward matrimony,” Ravenswood murmured. “Crawford was not the easiest man to divert from his singular mission, was he?”

She looked up at her cousin and detected he was fighting a grin. “No, he was not. How did you know it was him who ruined me?”

“I didn’t. Not at first but don’t tell him that. But, cousin. Anyone watching you, who really knew you, could surely see you favored Crawford above anyone. Of course, George got in your way, as usual.”

She gaped at him. “But we’d never even spoken before that night.”

“Yes, and one day I must ask you how you started the conversation that led to your ruin. Crawford’s been pitting himself against your brother with such single-mindedness for the last year that I was becoming alarmed. And then he just stopped.”

“So you only guessed?”

“I wasn’t wrong in the end, was I,” the new duke murmured. “After you left London, all the fight seemed to go out of Crawford. He had this lost and forlorn look in his eyes, and he wasn’t paying any attention to other women, either.”

“So, you arranged for him to discover my location.”

“It seemed a sensible thing to do. If you wanted him, and he wanted you, you’d have a chance.”

Amity gasped. “Cousin, I never knew you were such a romantic at heart.”

Ravenswood snorted. “It has nothing to do with romance and everything to do with whose face I wish to see at my dining table. When we return to London, I should like you to act as my hostess until I marry.”

“But the aunts have always—”

“I’ve little interest in what the old biddies want. I’m in control now, not them. Things will be different. Better.”

“Yes, your grace.”

“And I expect you to call me by my first name still when we are alone.” He patted her hand just before they reached the opening of the hedge. “By the way, welcome to your wedding breakfast. I’ve had to plan this secretly myself, so none but a few trusted souls on staff actually know what the occasion is for.”

He stopped in the gap in the hedge, looking over a sea of white-cloth-covered tables, an abundance of flowers, and gleaming silver table wear. To the far side was a small raised platform where musicians were standing, holding instruments. They immediately seated themselves and started to play a trill of music.

The family had been standing to one side, fiercely engaged in speaking the loudest they could to each other. Upon hearing the music, they fell silent and looked around.

When all eyes fell on Amity, she nearly collapsed from the disapproval that crossed every face turned in her direction. Ravenswood raised her hand to his lips and kissed the air above it before stepping away. Roman smoothly took his place and wrapped her arm around his again, showing off the ring on her finger.

Ravenswood moved in front of them. “Ladies and gentlemen, I am sure you will join me in welcoming Mr. and Mrs. Roman Crawford to their wedding breakfast. I’m sure, too, that you will join me in wishing the happy couple well.”

“The hell I will!” George bellowed, shouldering his way through the aunts, uncles, and cousins to reach them before anyone else could.

Amity shrank inside but made herself stand tall. She’d told Roman how her brother behaved behind closed doors, and he had vowed to defend her with equal violence if necessary.

“This marriage is unlawful! I protest.”

“Who else protests the match that I have arranged?” The new duke addressed the gathering as much as George. “I, for one, believe it a sound decision. Crawford can certainly afford a wife and has been a close friend of the family for many years.”

“Not mine,” George bellowed, shaking his fist. “He’s done all he can to ruin me!”

“I recall no such thing,” Ravenswood responded in a bald-faced lie. “If your investments and such have failed, it’s through no fault but your own. Cease whining.”

“What of her ruin?” someone yelled out from the back. That voice was Melody’s, of course. Roman’s first love bringing up the past unpleasantness. Amity had often wondered if her sister-in-law had enjoyed Roman’s obvious suffering and acts of revenge on some level. Had she thought Roman would mourn her forever and never marry anyone at all?