in the
circle of their group instead of ringing through the room like a
desperate attempt to draw attention to herself. Lucinda didn’t need
to beg for attention. Men’s eyes were automatically drawn to the
petite, slender blonde with slanted green eyes and an angelic
smile.
Boyd nudged Richard in the ribs. “If you’re
not going to propose, get out of my way so I can.”
With a laugh, Richard released Lucinda’s
hand. “Spare your pride, Boyd. I think Lucinda would decline both
of us. But perhaps Catherine would be kind enough to suffer our
attention for a while this evening.”
Catherine’s smile faltered, but Evelyn saved
her from having to comment, by asking Jeb, “What’s your opinion on
attraction?”
Jeb glanced at Amelia’s mother, who had been
quiet all evening, her heartache apparent despite her efforts to
smile. “Their eyes,” he said. “The way they show everything a woman
is feeling.”
Jeb’s words touched Amelia, but it was the
shadow of sadness in Boyd’s eyes that intrigued Amelia.
Evelyn tapped Kyle on the arm. “Your turn,
and don’t try to get out of answering.”
He released an exasperated sigh. “All right.
It’s a woman’s intelligence.”
Boyd and Richard burst out laughing and the
ladies pretended to swoon. Radford and Duke grinned like idiots,
but Amelia looked at Kyle in surprise. He valued intelligence?
He folded his arms across his chest and
glared at his male companions. “What?” he asked through gritted
teeth.
“Matt Carson claims he married Charlotte
Ladamere because he loved her mind.” Boyd hooted. “Every man in
this town has loved more than Charlotte’s mind, Kyle.”
“I haven’t.”
“Well, there’s one,” Boyd said, not in the
least chagrined at his crude statement in front of the ladies.
“Two,” Radford said, slipping his arm around
Evelyn’s shoulders.
Duke arched a censuring brow at Boyd.
“Three.”
Boyd held up a hand. “Don’t even say it, Jeb
and Richard.” He looked at Kyle. “You can’t tell me a woman’s
intelligence is so attractive that her reputation doesn’t
matter.”
Richard’s eyes locked with Amelia’s. As if
someone had pulled a plug from her lungs, her breath rushed out so
fast she nearly lost her supper.
“If the rumors are true about Charlotte,”
Kyle said, “then it obviously didn’t matter to Matthew.”
“Then you’re saying it shouldn’t matter
whether a bride is pure or not?”
“I didn’t say that,” Kyle countered,
irritation filling his voice. “I just said it may not have bothered
Matthew.”
“Which implies that it would matter to
you?”
“Of course it would!” Kyle said. “Now stop
being an idiot. You’re embarrassing the ladies.”
Richard glanced away, but Amelia knew he’d
seen the shame in her eyes. She could have killed him in that
instant. Her hands trembled and her fingers itched to rake his
handsome face. He’d ruined her reputation and would have thought
nothing of doing it again, had she been inclined to accept his
offer.
Amelia stepped from the cluster of friends
and family who were there to celebrate a marriage that would never
be more than a business arrangement at best—a living hell at worst.
“I’ll get some glasses for our toast,” she said. Before anyone
could offer to help, she hurried across the room, praying she’d
make it to the kitchen before she threw up.
Kyle leaned in the kitchen doorway watching
Amelia at the counter arranging glasses on a serving tray. She wore
her hair in a loose twist up the back of her head, and though her
gown of midnight black was fancy enough for their wedding while
still being appropriate for mourning her father, it looked sleek
and provocative to Kyle.
His gaze swept from her magnificent hair to
her midnight hem and he imagined sliding the gown off her shoulders
and unpinning her hair. Soon they would be alone and he would slide
his fingers into the autumn strands and pull her down beneath him.
That was the
circle of their group instead of ringing through the room like a
desperate attempt to draw attention to herself. Lucinda didn’t need
to beg for attention. Men’s eyes were automatically drawn to the
petite, slender blonde with slanted green eyes and an angelic
smile.
Boyd nudged Richard in the ribs. “If you’re
not going to propose, get out of my way so I can.”
With a laugh, Richard released Lucinda’s
hand. “Spare your pride, Boyd. I think Lucinda would decline both
of us. But perhaps Catherine would be kind enough to suffer our
attention for a while this evening.”
Catherine’s smile faltered, but Evelyn saved
her from having to comment, by asking Jeb, “What’s your opinion on
attraction?”
Jeb glanced at Amelia’s mother, who had been
quiet all evening, her heartache apparent despite her efforts to
smile. “Their eyes,” he said. “The way they show everything a woman
is feeling.”
Jeb’s words touched Amelia, but it was the
shadow of sadness in Boyd’s eyes that intrigued Amelia.
Evelyn tapped Kyle on the arm. “Your turn,
and don’t try to get out of answering.”
He released an exasperated sigh. “All right.
It’s a woman’s intelligence.”
Boyd and Richard burst out laughing and the
ladies pretended to swoon. Radford and Duke grinned like idiots,
but Amelia looked at Kyle in surprise. He valued intelligence?
He folded his arms across his chest and
glared at his male companions. “What?” he asked through gritted
teeth.
“Matt Carson claims he married Charlotte
Ladamere because he loved her mind.” Boyd hooted. “Every man in
this town has loved more than Charlotte’s mind, Kyle.”
“I haven’t.”
“Well, there’s one,” Boyd said, not in the
least chagrined at his crude statement in front of the ladies.
“Two,” Radford said, slipping his arm around
Evelyn’s shoulders.
Duke arched a censuring brow at Boyd.
“Three.”
Boyd held up a hand. “Don’t even say it, Jeb
and Richard.” He looked at Kyle. “You can’t tell me a woman’s
intelligence is so attractive that her reputation doesn’t
matter.”
Richard’s eyes locked with Amelia’s. As if
someone had pulled a plug from her lungs, her breath rushed out so
fast she nearly lost her supper.
“If the rumors are true about Charlotte,”
Kyle said, “then it obviously didn’t matter to Matthew.”
“Then you’re saying it shouldn’t matter
whether a bride is pure or not?”
“I didn’t say that,” Kyle countered,
irritation filling his voice. “I just said it may not have bothered
Matthew.”
“Which implies that it would matter to
you?”
“Of course it would!” Kyle said. “Now stop
being an idiot. You’re embarrassing the ladies.”
Richard glanced away, but Amelia knew he’d
seen the shame in her eyes. She could have killed him in that
instant. Her hands trembled and her fingers itched to rake his
handsome face. He’d ruined her reputation and would have thought
nothing of doing it again, had she been inclined to accept his
offer.
Amelia stepped from the cluster of friends
and family who were there to celebrate a marriage that would never
be more than a business arrangement at best—a living hell at worst.
“I’ll get some glasses for our toast,” she said. Before anyone
could offer to help, she hurried across the room, praying she’d
make it to the kitchen before she threw up.
Kyle leaned in the kitchen doorway watching
Amelia at the counter arranging glasses on a serving tray. She wore
her hair in a loose twist up the back of her head, and though her
gown of midnight black was fancy enough for their wedding while
still being appropriate for mourning her father, it looked sleek
and provocative to Kyle.
His gaze swept from her magnificent hair to
her midnight hem and he imagined sliding the gown off her shoulders
and unpinning her hair. Soon they would be alone and he would slide
his fingers into the autumn strands and pull her down beneath him.
That was the
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