Page 9 of A Necessary Wife

Charles, startled by Papa’s outburst, started to cry again.

CHAPTER THREE

Amelia had become a wife today, but she was extremely nervous about what the future would hold. Being made responsible for the care and well-being of two children was a duty she did not take lightly. Nor becoming a wife, and a countess. Chatham had proven himself a man of his word. He’d shared none of her anxiety as they’d stood before a vicar that morning.

It had been a very long and trying two weeks for her, waiting to see if Chatham could be counted on to keep his word though. She had prepared for him not to come back.

But he had.

His return yesterday and immediate proposal had been met with incredulity by her brother at first, yet Anthony had not stood in the earl’s way in the end. Anthony knew there were good reasons for Amelia to accept such a good match. Her acceptance of the earl improved the family’s standing in society. Erased the stain of scandal from her reputation and solved the problem of what to do with her.

Anthony’s hug goodbye had been the longest of her life and he’d whispered his approval of her decision and also regret that she’d chosen this path. His words had brought tears to her eyes when she’d departed and also a return of doubt.

It was one thing to consider a marriage of convenience but quite another to start it with so little time to prepare.

And there had been a series of unfortunate events along the way today that had delayed her journey more than she cared for. A horse had gone lame, and her husband’s valet had become dreadfully ill, casting up his accounts all across the opposite carriage seat. There was still the faint hint of vomit filling her nose hours later.

Amelia wished she could open a window to let in a cooling breeze, or even ride a horse, if she’d had one, but rain had plagued the last hours of her journey, slowing their progress considerably. She could not wait to escape the close confines of the carriage…and to see her new husband again. She had enjoyed their refreshingly direct conversations before their marriage.

Unfortunately, Lord Chatham had decided that his father, the Duke of Stapleton, deserved a private warning of their marriage before they met, and he had ridden ahead without her.

The hours alone had given her a little time to grow accustomed to hearing her title tumble from the lips of the respectful valet and maid given to her and accept her status as a married woman. That was not to say she did not expect more doubt to surface in the days and months and perhaps years ahead. Her husband was nearly a stranger to her, and the children even more so.

While the memory of their mother was faint for the youngest, a boy of seven called Adam, the girl aged nine, Lucy, would remember that she’d had one. She might not like a second mother forced upon her without warning, but her father had decided otherwise and claimed the girl would simply have to adjust.

Amelia did not think it would be that easy and let out a shaky breath when she saw light ahead.

It was time.

Stapleton Manor was not somewhere she had ever visited, but she’d heard tales of the wonders here from her elder brother many times. Her stomach churned, and she smoothed her gown needlessly. She was nervous about her reception, but that worry was eclipsed by an imminent event—the consummation of her marriage.

Lord Chatham had announced that intimacies between them could wait until they reached his home. But the more hours that passed since she’d said “I do,” the more her nervousness increased. After spending so much time alone today, agonizing over what could happen between them at night, she wanted it over and done with, and not to have it hanging over her head forever.

In the distance, lights grew brighter as the manor burst into view. The sprawling estate surprised her with its size and grandeur, though she should have expected that a wealthy family such as her husband’s would live somewhere imposing. But it was quite a bit larger than what she was used to, and her stomach flipped at the thought of living here in the distant future.

This place, this estate, would be hers to call home when the current duke died, not that she wished for that, but she would become a duchess—something she had never dared to dream.

The Duke of Stapleton, a man she had been introduced to in London just once, long ago, had seemed kind. Amelia had been much caught up in the social whirl of her first season as she’d sought a husband, and her sights had been set much lower than any titled lords.

Chatham’s siblings she had no particular knowledge of, beyond the gossip her brother had shared. Amelia had spent no time in society in recent years, either. But she imagined that she would come to know the family, and she hoped they would be happy to know her as well.

It was not expected that there would be any great joy when they learned their brother had made a marriage of convenience with an old maid like herself. She herself had been surprised to be asked. Chatham was clever and handsome, and he could have had any woman for his second wife…but he’d chosen her. A woman of plain appearance and few great accomplishments besides gardening. Still, she was grudgingly flattered by his approval.

Amelia gently nudged the valet, who had fallen asleep some time ago.

“We have arrived,” she told him.

Potter stretched. “Can you see the earl?”

“Not in the dark and with rain falling so heavily,” she answered. “I hope he’s sensible enough to stay indoors and dry.”

The valet smiled quickly. “He will be waiting for you on the steps.”

The man was a romantic and seemed somewhat foolish. He’d been a witness to the marriage, and she was almost sure he’d shed a tear during the ceremony.

When the carriage drew to a halt before the grand house, the grooms were quick to jump down and open the door for her. But before they could offer to help her out, Lord Chatham was there, peering into the carriage with a dark scowl and holding an umbrella. “You’re late.”

Amelia sighed. “Yes.”