Chapter 17

CHAPTER17

Amy stared up at the familiar canopy above her. Absentmindedly, she began to trace her lips with her fingers as she smiled just a little. Even when she closed her eyes, she could still feel his lips moving against hers with such a passion that left her breathless up to now.

How could a man so consumed by passion suddenly stop? And it was not like he did not desire her—it was evident in his eyes that he did.

Could it be possible that there was such a man in this world who truly could control his desires and not treat a woman as if she was a mere object to exact his desires on? Could it be that the Duke of Leonbridge did not subscribe to the same notion as most of the gentlemen of the aristocracy did?

As much as she tried to fight it, she could not help but feel rather strongly that His Grace truly was nothing like all the other men she and Esther had had the misfortune of being acquainted with.

"How could you be so... so... perfect," she murmured, her brows furrowing into a slight frown.

Nobody was perfect in this world, and Amy would be the first to say that she herself was far from perfection. Her words were too sharp. Her heart was too cynical.

Most men demanded perfection from their wives but rarely faced themselves in the mirror. If they did, they would have seen the distortion in their characters.

But His Grace was the complete opposite—he had treated her rather well, considering the madness she put him through. And tonight, for her final test, he had shown great restraint—much more than she had ever expected of him.

Maybe I can truly trust him, she thought to herself with a soft smile. Maybe it would not be so bad to finally open up to somebody again…

Of course, it did not hurt that he was rather adept at kissing. Truth be told, she found herself wanted more of those addicting kisses... if only His Grace was not such a gentleman as to deny her such sweetness.

Amy laughed a little and covered her eyes with her arm. It was her first time thinking about a gentleman as favorably as she did the Duke of Leonbridge. Even when she had been engaged to Lord Clarence, she found herself treating him with a sort of gentle tolerance.

It was as if she had merely accepted that he was going to be a part of her life, and they were both supposed to make the best out of their union.

She had never felt such a desire for him as she did with the Duke.

As she turned towards her pillows, her lips curled up into a soft smile. Ever since she had come home from the ball, she found that she could not stop smiling. It was getting quite bothersome trying to hide it from her father and Aunt Dorothy.

Or maybe I really do not have to hide such a thing from them, she thought to herself. Maybe I can finally let myself go and enjoy everything for once…

And for the first time since her own beloved mother had died, she felt no need to force herself to cry as she laid in bed. Her eyes naturally fluttered close as she drifted off to sleep, her lips still curled into a smile…

* * *

When she woke up in the morning, Amy did not find the sunshine quite irritating. In fact, she took a moment to sit by the edge of her bed and watched as the soft golden rays spilled through her windows. It seemed like today was going to be a very beautiful day.

The perfect sequel to a beautiful night, Amy giggled to herself. Then, she stopped and wondered when was the last time she ever giggled like that.

She found that she could not recall it at all.

But that did not matter to Amy as she slipped her feet into her slippers and sauntered over to her dressing table. Humming a tune softly to herself, she began to brush the ends of her long hair. Normally, it was Edith who did the brushing for her, but she found that she could not quite keep still and brushing her hair was a pleasant way to occupy her hands.

And that was precisely how her maid found her.

"Oh, my lawd!" Edith gasped, nearly spilling over the basin of water she had been carrying for Amy to wash herself.

"Good morning, Edith!" Amy called out gaily. "I got up rather early today..."

However, it was not merely the fact that she rose early today, but rather, that she was in such a pleasant mood that was so peculiar. As if to add to even more astounding events that morning, she motioned her maid towards her and said, "Can you fix my hair nicely today?"

Edith blinked at that. "I... I beg yer pardon, Milady?"

Amy just smiled breezily. "I was thinking to style my hair today. None of those rather sensible buns that we used to do..."

The poor maid who had been longing to show off her skills in managing hair could only smile widely at her lady’s odd request. "Certainly, Milady!"

"Thank you, Edith!" she beamed. "And for today, I think I shall wear that lovely green frock with the pink flowers embroidered on the neckline. Don’t you think that would look rather refreshing?"

That particular frock had been relegated to the back of her closet in prior months because Amy once deemed it too frivolous. Madame Delacroix, who used to make her wardrobe for her, had thought to add something that was not her usual style for this Season, and although Amy never appreciated it when it had arrived with all her other dresses, she found herself thanking the couturier for having the foresight to make it for her.

It took some time for Edith to assist her into her day dress and finish with her hair, before Amy finally breezed into the dining hall to join her father and Aunt Dorothy for breakfast.

"Good morning, Aunt Dorothy! Good morning, Father!" she greeted them with a wide smile before pressing a soft kiss to her father’s cheek. When one of the servants came to pour her a cup of tea, she smiled brilliantly and thanked her in a bright cheery tone.

Amy was in such a good mood that she never realized her father was observing her with an odd look in his eyes. She was happily eating her honey cake when she finally heard him clearing his throat.

"Dearest, did you happen to have a good sleep last night?"

Amy nodded. "The best I have had in ages."

The Marquess of Irington shared a look with his cousin. "Does it have something to do with His Grace, the Duke of Leonbridge, by any chance?"

Amy delicately covered her mouth with her hand and smiled. "Now, why would you think that?"

Well, it really was because of His Grace—she could not deny that. But as any coy young lady would, she decided to prevaricate on the matter and give them rather cryptic answers, knowing that it would frustrate her father. It was rather unfortunate for the Marquess that his daughter was in such a teasing mood this morning.

"In any case," her father sighed, "your aunt received the Duke’s card earlier this morning. He would like to call upon you later this afternoon."

"That sounds lovely," she demurred, wiping her lips with a napkin. "Very well then, I shall make sure to welcome him properly when he arrives." She stood up and walked over to her father to kiss his cheek. "I hope you have a good day today, Father."

"Err... you, too, dearest," he muttered. "Are you not going to eat more?"

"No, I find myself quite full this morning," she laughed, before leaving her father with a stupefied look in his face.

Amy could only laugh to herself at the sight of it. After all, was it not his scheming and his challenge that brought them to this point? She had thought that he would be much pleased with the outcome of their bargain.

As for Amy, she found that for the first time, she did not seem to mind losing at all.

* * *

There was silence in the dining hall after Amy had left. The Marquess of Irington could only look at his daughter in dumbfounded silence, wondering what had taken over her to act so...strangely this morning.

"Did you see that?" he demanded of his cousin, who was calmly buttering her toast as if there was nothing at all wrong with the world. How could she sit there so serenely and eat her breakfast when Amy was acting like a proper young lady and not like the sharp-tongued virago the ton knew her to be.

"Well, I would think that you would be rather pleased with yourself now, seeing this is all a result of your scheming," Dorothy remarked placidly before delicately biting into her buttered bread. "Your daughter has simply discovered that she does enjoy the company of one particular man. Does that not make you happy, dear cousin?"

"Ah! So, it was His Grace!"

Dorothy shot him a patronizing look. "Who else could it be? I doubt she would regard Lord Clarence with such a lightness in her step."

No, she would perhaps be more likely to contemplate how to hasten his untimely demise. Or how to best humiliate him before all of London.

Matthew himself held no fond feelings for the man who had once been engaged to marry his only daughter. Amy had been quite young then and much too unaware of the kind of man her fiancé had been.

However, when the young lord broke off their engagement, he found her much more incensed than heartbroken. She had even managed to steel her heart against all other men, deeming them unworthy of becoming lifelong companions.

He had thought at first that it was Lord Clarence who was at fault for his daughter declaring her desire to be a spinster, but he later realized that was simply not the case. It was not that she was heartbroken over the cad, but rather, that she had given up on men in general and found the lot of them distasteful. The select few that she would tolerate were hardly viable marriage prospects.

But His Grace had managed to do the unthinkable—he had succeeded in winning over Matthew’s daughter’s frozen heart!

Matthew shook his head at that. "I am not so certain if that is a good thing. After all, it is one thing to marry a young lord from a good house—it is entirely another matter to become the Duchess of Leonbridge—not that I doubt Amy’s capability in holding such a title," he quickly added.

"What do you have to be worried about?" Dorothy sniffed. "Amy is already well-versed in the art of putting people in their place. She would make a rather fine duchess. Besides," she smiled, "His Grace has been putting off the matter of his marriage for long enough that it has made a lot of people rather anxious. One would think that the woman he finally chooses would be well worth all the wait."

"You think he has been waiting for our Amy all this time?"

His cousin shot him an exasperated look. "It is not that I think that he has been waiting all this time. What duke would wait when the rest of Society is ready to cast themselves upon his feet? Rather, I think that they finally met at the right time."

Matthew pondered over that and acknowledged that his cousin did have a point. Still, he would much rather have preferred it if Amy had not encountered a man such as Andrew Clarence before. But perhaps, it was necessary for his own daughter to grow into her own strength as well.

He knew that she was struggling within herself after his own wife died when Amy had been but a young girl. His beloved daughter might not have mentioned it, but he could feel her pain, and the difficulty she had in expressing herself.

If the Duke of Leonbridge could elicit such positive emotions in her, then Matthew would consider that a good sign. However, it was still much too early to tell if this courtship of theirs—if it was already that—was going to proceed smoothly.

With Amy, one could not really tell. One could only hope that His Grace, the Duke of Leonbridge, was up to the task of making his prickly daughter happy.

After all, that was all a father like him could ever want for his only child.

For Amy’s sake, this had better go well, or I might really have to hit a Duke of the Realm!