Captain Amberton's Inherited Bride (Whitby Weddings 2)

‘All right, if he wishes to come.’

‘Good.’ He gave her a smile that appeared to be completely genuine. ‘Then I hope you enjoy your freedom, Mrs Amberton. You deserve it.’

* * *

Half an hour later, Lance stood in the doorway of his father’s old chamber, without even the faintest hint of a smile on his face, wondering if time had reversed itself and it was actually five years before. Nothing about the room seemed to have changed at all.

‘Are you all right?’ Violet’s voice was soft at his side.

‘Yes.’ He forced himself to take a step over the threshold. ‘It’s just strange.’

‘If it’s too upsetting...’

‘No. As much as I hate to admit it when Mrs Gargrave’s right, it’s about time I moved in. It’s what my father would have wanted.’

‘But if it reminds you of him too much?’

‘It does, but that’s not what bothers me most.’ He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. ‘It’s Arthur. This was supposed to be his room, the heir’s room. It was never meant to be mine. It feels wrong to be here.’

‘You didn’t take his place on purpose.’

‘No, but he was just so much better than me. In every way. He should have been the one who...’

‘Don’t!’ She put a hand on his arm. ‘Don’t say that. We’ve both ended up in places we didn’t expect, but we have to make the most of it.’

He frowned at the understatement. Did she feel as confused as he did, then? Did the place she’d found herself feel wrong? He didn’t like that idea. Then again, it had been an emotional day for both of them. The ceremony had been more of a sombre experience than he’d expected, but then he’d taken it seriously. He’d never intended to marry, let alone to marry for money like his father. The least he could do to compensate for that fact was to behave properly.

And he would make her happy. He’d made that resolve on the promenade after their visit to her father’s house. He’d do whatever he could do to make up for the unhappiness of her upbringing, to compensate for his own earlier behaviour towards her, too. Somehow that purpose seemed almost as important to him now as saving the estate.

The honeymoon he’d arranged was a start. It would give her the freedom she craved—although she hadn’t seemed as happy with his gift as he’d hoped she would be. Ironic when he’d been trying his best to be happy for her. The idea of her leaving so soon made him feel strangely bereft, but it was what she wanted.

‘Speaking of your place...’ He led her across to a door in the far corner. ‘Your bedchamber’s through here. It’s known as the blue room for obvious reasons...’ he frowned as he turned the handle ‘...though it’s not so easy to tell in the dark.’

He tensed as she leaned past him, holding her candle up to peer into the unlit chamber. Judging by the lack of a fire, or indeed any lighting at all, it seemed that Mrs Gargrave had her own definite ideas about where his new bride ought to spend her first night as a married woman. So much for both their rooms being ready. The next time his housekeeper offered him tea, he’d tell her exactly what she could do with it.

He turned back into his own room and looked around apprehensively, noticing the little touches he’d missed at first glance. There was a bottle of champagne and two glasses set out on a table—even a faint scent of perfume in the air if he wasn’t mistaken. That definitely hadn’t been there in his father’s day. There was even a nightdress laid out on the bed, damn it! He supposed he ought to be grateful that there weren’t rose petals sprinkled over the floor as well.

He cleared his throat, trying to sound matter-of-fact. ‘It appears that we’ll be sharing a bed tonight after all. For the sake of appearances,’ he added quickly.

‘Yes.’ She turned around slowly to face him, though her expression didn’t waver. Instead she looked very much as if she were trying not to have any expression at all. ‘For appearances.’

‘It won’t happen again. I’ll speak to Mrs Gargrave in the morning.’

‘It’s all right. It was a reasonable assumption for her to make.’

‘Violet, you know I had nothing to do with this?’ He felt a powerful urge to defend himself. After promising her that they’d sleep in separate rooms, he was uncomfortably aware that he appeared to be breaking his word on the very first night.

‘I know that.’ Her expression flickered with a look that he couldn’t interpret. Suspicion? Fear? No, incongruously enough, it looked more like hurt, though surely it couldn’t be that.

‘If I could just have a few moments to get ready for bed?’ She lifted her chin up slightly.

‘Of course.’ He found himself clearing his throat again. ‘Should I call for Eliza?’

‘No, I can manage.’

‘Very well. In that case, I’ll wait outside.’

He stepped out into the corridor, feeling relieved and slightly ridiculous at the same time. The whole situation was ludicrous. He’d never been so formal with a woman in his life and this was his wedding night. He sounded as priggish as his father, for pity’s sake! Maybe the room was affecting him even more than he’d thought. The thought of sharing a bed with her made him as nervous as a youth with his first encounter and he wasn’t even intending to sleep with her!