a last, long lick. After a second, he blinked, then lifted his gaze to her eyes; she met it innocently. 'Should we wander and meet more people?'
They'd already met the innkeeper and his wife, but there were others in the village it would be polite to acknowledge.
Luc's gaze shifted past her. 'No need.' Gracefully, he drew in his legs and sat up. 'They're coming to meet us.'
She turned and saw the vicar's wife bustling up. Rising, she and Luc exchanged pleasantries with Mrs. Tilby, then that good lady begged Amelia's support for the local almshouse.
'Lady Calverton — I mean the
Amelia smiled. 'Of course. Lady Calverton will be returning from London shortly. I'll accompany her to your next meeting.'
The promise quite made Mrs. Tilby's day; she parted from them with flurries of farewells and an assurance she would pass their greetings on to her spouse. Finally leaving them, she paused to exchange nods with Squire Gingold, a large, bluff gentleman, before hurrying on her way.
Squire Gingold approached, eyes bright, a good-natured smile on his ruddy face. 'Felicitations, m'dear.' He bowed gallantly before Amelia; she smiled and bobbed a curtsy.
Turning to Luc, the Squire shook hands. 'Always knew you weren't blind, m'boy.'
Luc raised his brows. 'After all these years of following my leads, so I would suppose.'
The Squire laughed and asked after Luc's hounds. He and Luc shared numerous interests and responsibilities relating to the local hunt; Amelia wasn't surprised when their conversation veered in that direction.
She didn't have time to get bored. A carriage drew up outside the inn; its door opened and three young ladies tumbled out, shaking their skirts, unfurling their parasols. Their mother, descending more leisurely, gathered them up, then the flock descended.
That was only the beginning. In the next hour, simply by dint of standing on the green, Amelia found herself introduced to the majority of their neighbors. Or, more accurately, reintroduced, for she'd met all of them previously; indeed, thanks to the numerous house parties she'd attended over the years at the Chase, she was even more familiar with the local gentry than she was with the villagers.
They all welcomed her warmly, familiarity lending an ease to the situation, making the wives even more eager to invite her to tea. She was a known quantity, one they found unthreatening.
When the impromptu gathering eventually dispersed, and she and Luc reclaimed their horses and mounted to ride home to the Chase for luncheon, Amelia noted his gaze resting on her. She caught his eye, smiled. 'That went even more easily than I'd expected.'
He hesitated, some thought, some consideration lurking in his dark eyes, then he wheeled his hunter. 'Indeed. But now we'd better hurry.'
She laughed. 'Why? Are you hungry?'
Luc watched as she brought her mare alongside. 'Ravenous,' he ground out, then tapped his heels to his hunter's sides.
She fitted so well it was frightening. Fitted his household, fitted his life — fitted him. She was like a natural complement, a lock to his key.
He hadn't foreseen it — how could he have? It had never occurred to him that married life — their married life — would be like this.
A ridiculously easy slide into relaxed contentment.
They lunched; they had already fallen into an easy camaraderie. They already knew each other's likes and dislikes, were accustomed to each other's everyday habits. Although they didn't know each other completely — and that unknowing lent an edge, an uncertainty to an old family friendship converted into marriage — yet the familiarity, the ease… the simple comfort of being able, already, to expect and receive routine understanding…
He felt like he was being pulled into a whirlpool that was simply too good to be true.
He pushed back from the luncheon table. 'I need to check on the dogs.'
She smiled, and wriggled back her chair. 'I'll come, too — I want to see my puppy.' She paused, her eyes on his. 'Were you truly serious about that?'
Rising, he rounded the table to draw out her chair. 'Of course.' The champion puppy would serve as a substitute wedding gift until he could give her his real one — the necklace and earrings he'd had designed to match the pearl-and-diamond betrothal ring. But he couldn't give her the set until he confessed, or she'd think he was simply giving her part of her dowry back, a scenario he wasn't capable of stomaching.
She rose; he offered her his arm. 'I'm sure you won't begrudge him to the pack when he's needed.'
'You mean when they run? But they love to run, don't they?'
'It would kill a champion not to run when the scent's high.'
She continued asking questions about the care of hounds; when they reached the kennels, she made her way immediately to the litter pen. Her pup was at the front again; from where he'd stopped in the aisle to talk to Sugden, Luc watched her lift the pup out, crooning.
Amelia held the puppy, who seemed quite content in her arms, and talked to him. When Luc eventually came up, she turned. 'You said I could name him.'
Luc scratched the pup's head. 'You can, but he has to have a proper name for registering, one we haven't used before.' He nodded to the office at the end of the kennels. 'Sugden has the registration book — ask him to show it to you. You'll need to check the name hasn't already been used.'
She nodded.
Luc crouched and patted Belle, then checked over the other puppies. Then he stood. 'There are business matters I need to deal with — I'll be in my study. Check with Sugden, but your pup and the others can probably do with a little time outside.'
She glanced at him. 'Playing?'
He grinned, a little evilly. 'What else do pups do?' With a salute, he swung away.
Amelia turned back to her pup. Once Luc was out of earshot, she whispered, 'Galahad. He never was all that impressed with King Arthur, so he won't have used that name before.'
He'd been in his study for twenty minutes, poring over investment reports, when he rose to retrieve a ledger from the other side of the room — and saw her, on the lawn, puppies gamboling at her feet. Sugden and Belle watched from a distance; Amelia, golden ringlets dancing, the blue of her gown mirroring the blue of the sky, held center stage as, laughing, she mock-fought with the puppies over a length of knotted rope.
The pups fell over her feet as well as their own; they jumped up, pawed her gown, dug at her hem… she didn't seem to mind.
After a moment, Sugden called; Amelia looked up, then waved, and Sugden left. Belle put her nose on her paws and closed her eyes, like Sugden, convinced her puppies were safe.
Ledger in hand, Luc hesitated. Perhaps he should — A knock on the door had him turning. 'Come.' McTavish entered. 'Those estimates we were waiting on have arrived, my lord. Do you want to go over them now?' He wanted to say no — wanted to put aside all work and join his new wife on the lawn and play with the puppies. He'd already spent all morning in her company; the revelation that he'd happily spend all afternoon with her, too, was damning.
'By all means.' He waved McTavish to the chair before his desk; carrying the ledger, he returned to his seat behind it. 'How much are they asking?'
It had all been so easy. So surprisingly straightforward.
Two mornings later, Amelia lolled in bed, smiling inanely at the ripples of sunlight dancing across the ceiling. There was a small pool at the end of the terrace outside the window; every morning, indeed, throughout most of every day, the sun reflected off the water, filling the main bedroom with shimmering light.
The main bedroom — hers and Luc's. The bed in which she lay was the one they shared, every night, and every morning.
Her smile deepened at the memories — of the nights, of the mornings. Only five had passed since they'd wed, yet in that respect she felt confident and assured. Just as in the wider sphere of his household, of the estate and their neighbors, she felt secure in her position as the new Lady Calverton; in all those arenas, their interaction,
