Painless for her, at least. Not for him. Already, an acute pain radiated from the pit of his stomach as he seemed to detach from the present moment.
The light of the day seemed to die at that moment. The brightness he had felt, the hope and sense of being fully awake again after years of grief, it all rushed away from him. He experienced a sensation, standing there in the dull grass, of falling inwards. The life that she had brought out of him returned to that tight place in his chest, where he had locked it away after Teresa’s death.
He wanted to go home. The new Joseph, the one awakened by love, had been confident enough to spend a happy holiday in London. But the old Joseph, the one he was settling back into, was not suited for such an adventure. It was only Heather’s exuberant face and excitement that convinced him, then, not to simply cut the holiday short and bring her home at once.
Chapter 24
Amanda had the sense that forces were conspiring to keep her and Joseph apart. All day long, it was impossible to snatch any quiet moment with him. There was much she wanted to tell him, but nothing that could be divulged in the company of others.
He seemed aloof. Hovering along the edges of every conversation, physically present, but mentally far away. He was like he had been when she had first met him.
This must be my fault somehow.
She thought that he must have been regretting the night before. She ought not to have teased him so. She had only wanted to get a rise out of him, but she seemed to have wounded him somehow. She wanted to apologize to him. More than anything, she wanted to assure that nothing had changed between them. His eyes didn’t light up as they had done before when he looked at her.
She just couldn’t manage to get him alone all day long.
At the opera, at least, she knew that they would sit next to each other. Perhaps in the course of the play, she could whisper something in his ear. Something that would smooth things over between them.
But what should I say?
Fear rose up inside her that he had been repulsed by how easily she had submitted to him. What if he thought she was some sort of harlot? Should she have protested more? Should she have pushed his hands away from her? Reprimanded him for touching her? She had behaved in a most unladylike way, thinking that it was safe to give in to her desires with him.
Perhaps she had overestimated their intimacy. Perhaps she should have kept herself more hidden and mysterious. She’d given too much away and now, it seemed, she had lost her charm.
Even Kelly’s happy mood and cheerful demeanor did little to help lift the gloom that settled around her as the day drew into evening. As she dressed for the opera in a white gown given to her by the Dowager Marchioness for the occasion, she considered feigning a headache and not going at all.
If she could just explain to Joseph that she was sorry and that she wouldn’t get carried away again, perhaps she could regain some of her dignity and he would forgive her. But worrying about it all day had exhausted her. She longed for bed.
At the theater, she tried to let the excitement that coursed through the audience wake her up. She did love the theater, and normally the atmosphere alone was enough to lift her spirits no matter how depressed they were. This time, however, she felt only anxiety as the Dowager Marchioness paraded her around and introduced her and her son to numerous friends and acquaintances.
“Miss O’Neil, you sit between me and Edan, won’t you?” the Dowager Marchioness said as they filed into the theater box she had reserved.
“Oh, actually, I think I had better sit by Lady Heather, should she need anything.”
The Dowager Marchioness pressed her lips together. Amanda was reminded of the lady’s displeasure at her insistence upon working as a governess. Still, she could bear the Dowager Marchioness’ displeasure if it meant managing to secure a seat next to Joseph during the opera.
As the lights went down, she looked over at Joseph’s profile. He did not so much as glance at her as the opera began. He stared ahead, apparently utterly engrossed in the story playing out on the stage.
She studied his profile, feeling once again that he was the most beautiful man she’d ever beheld. The angles of his brow and his jaw were sharp, the light emitting from the stage casting soft shadows in the hollow of his cheekbone. Her gut twisted in a fresh wave of dread that she had displeased him. She had lost his interest and wondered if it would be possible to regain it.
Silently, she reached her hand toward his in the darkness of the theater box. His hand was laying on the armrest of his seat, and when she slid her fingers into his, he responded by gently stroking his thumb over her knuckles.
Her heart soared at that tiny touch. Warm washed over her. Perhaps she had been worrying for nothing. Perhaps he was merely tired after a long night.
Then, he pulled his hand away. Almost as if he was startled to find himself touching her. Amanda’s breath caught in her throat at the sudden rejection of her touch.
She brought her hand back into her lap, interlacing her fingers and staring straight ahead as a riot of emotion swelled in her chest.
She was hurt, but now anger also rose the color of her cheeks. It wasn’t fair. He was the one who had pulled on her dress. He was the one who had put his hand on her thigh. When he had pulled her body flush against his, the hard ridge of his erection had left no room for doubt that had wanted her. So why was she the one being punished for merely getting caught up in his overtures?
Was it fair for a man to awaken the desires of a woman just to turn around and look down his nose at her for not denying it? If she had behaved in an unladylike manner, it was only because he had not acted like a gentleman.
Humiliation at her own behavior and the sharp sting of rejection swirled inside her with such an intensity that the action of the stage blurred before her eyes. Angry tears fought to spill onto her cheeks, but she bit her lip and refused to let them fall.
When the house lights went up at the end of the opera, they discovered, to no one’s surprise, that Lady Heather had nodded off in her seat. The sight brought a smile to Amanda’s lips despite herself. When she looked up at the girl’s father, she found that he was watching her. The expression on his face was unreadable. Almost blank, but she had come to know him well enough in their time together that she could make out some emotion lurking beneath the surface.
Their eyes locked for just a moment, and then his expression seemed to harden. She could no longer make out any emotion behind his eyes.
“I’ll carry her,” he said, stooping down to lift the little girl into his arms. She was like a rag doll, her cheek mashed against her father’s shoulder. “You all stay and visit with the others. I will take Heather back to the carriage and sit with her while she sleeps,” he said to the Dowager Marchioness and Kelly.
“I’ll come with you,” Amanda said immediately. This could be her chance to speak to him and demand that he tell her why he was angry at her.
“No,” he said simply. “You are here as the Dowager Marchioness’ friend, not Lady Heather’s governess. I can care for my daughter for one night.”
The bitterness of that last statement was completely uncalled for. Even he seemed almost surprised to have said it. Her jaw dropped, and she was about to retort when the Dowager Marchioness interjected.
“He’s quite right, Miss O’Neil. Come, there are some others I want to introduce you to.”
Kelly laughed. “To be young, eh? Only a child could fall asleep to Figaro.”
His cheerful obliviousness to the tension that sparkled between Amanda, Joseph, and the Dowager Marchioness at that moment would have been humorous if Amanda was not so upset.
And just like that, Amanda was swept away by the Dowager Marchioness into an adjoining theater box as Joseph and Heather headed in the opposite direction.
It was a full hour before they rejoined each other in the carriage. Her nerves were so frayed that she had snapped rather rudely at Kelly and had to apologize. She complained of a headache then
, which was finally enough to convince the Dowager Marchioness that it was time to return home for the evening.
In the dark carriage, Lady Heather was tucked into a warm corner under a blanket, and Joseph sat next to her, his hands clasped in his lap, staring at his feet. Or perhaps he had fallen asleep too. Amanda watched him as they all climbed inside, but he did not look at her.
The avoidance of her gaze was pointed at this point, as she sat directly opposite him. Her anger flared up and she stared out the window, counting the stars above to keep from making a fool of herself.
Kelly and his mother chatted on at length about the excellence of the opera, but Amanda couldn’t pay attention to it.
“But yes, I think a ball is just the thing. I am about at my wits’ end with piecemeal introductions, Edan. A grand gathering is just the only way to have you introduced to everyone at once and be done with it.”
“You look for any excuse to host a ball, mother. Half of these people have known me since I was a boy.”
“I’m an old lady, son. One gets tired of going around hither and yon for social gatherings. At some point, it becomes easier to simply bring the people to oneself.”
Amanda groaned.
Another ball.
“Are you sure you’re all right, dear?” the Dowager Marchioness asked.
“Yes, My Lady. I’m perfectly fine. Just this headache, is all.”
“When we get back, I will send for hot water to be brought to your room,” Kelly offered kindly. “A hot cloth across your forehead will be just the thing.
Amanda smiled gently at him. “Thank you.”
With Joseph’s abrupt detachment from her, Amanda found herself feeling suddenly adrift. Ethelred Manor had begun to feel like home to her, but just then, she was feeling very far from home indeed. She wished she could go back to Dublin and forget any of the past months had happened.
She closed her eyes, resting her forehead against the cool glass of the carriage window. Everything had seemed so bright and hopeful only a day ago. Now, she felt perfectly alone. Without a real family. Without someone to love her.
She said nothing more as they returned to the Dowager Marchioness’s estate, pretending to be asleep so that Kelly had to gently nudge her shoulder when they arrived.
“I can try to carry you, if you like. But I’m afraid I’m not as strong as I look.”
Amanda chuckled. “I can walk. Thank you.”
Once inside, Amanda continued. “I think I will go right to bed, if that’s all right.”
The Dowager Marchioness excused her and wished her goodnight. As Amanda climbed the stairs, she heard Joseph also saying goodnight, then listened as he followed her, Lady Heather still draped in his arms.
She did not wait for him. She did not follow him into Lady Heather’s room to help ready her for bed and tuck her in.
As he said, he can take care of his own daughter for one night.
The bitter thought did little to comfort her as she shut her door and listened to the faint sounds of him moving about in the room next to hers.
She expected him to go straight across to his own room, but she jumped slightly when he knocked very gently on her door.
“Amanda?” his voice was nearly a whisper. Nearly inaudible through the wooden door.
She didn’t answer. Anger compelled her to treat him with the same cold aloofness that he had shown her, though half of her yearned to throw open the door and make a fool of herself all over again.
He did not knock again, and as she listened to his footfalls cross the hallway, she finally let the confused, angry tears she’d been fighting all day roll down her cheeks.
Chapter 25
The air was tense at breakfast as they all sat together at the table, which was laden with silver dishes of fruit and toast piled high. Tendrils of steam curled up from the spout of the large teapot. Joseph sliced through the skin of an orange with his thumbnail, watching the fine oil particles spray into the shaft of sunlight.
The bright airiness of the room seemed ironic now. He studiously watched the work of his hands as he peeled the orange. He could feel Amanda looking at him from across the table, but he dared not meet her eyes.
The Dowager Marchioness seemed perfectly oblivious to the heaviness in the air. She was discussing plans for her ball, the one that she had concocted on the carriage ride back last night. Joseph did not relish the idea of attending and was halfheartedly trying to come up with some excuse for he and Heather to return to Ethelred Manor on their own. Amanda could stay and dance the evenings away with Lord Brubrun. Surely, with himself out of the way, she would be free to move on.
He glanced up at her. It was more of instinct than any conscious decision to do so. Despite his resolution to get out of her way, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from wanting her.
The sun shone in behind her, catching the golden sheen of her hair and making her appear to have a halo around her head. She was looking down, and he noticed the gentle slope of her nose and the way her dark lashes hid her eyes. He looked down again, staring at the sections of orange on his plate.
I’d been a fool for thinking for even a moment that she could be mine.
“I think I may have to return to home earlier than expected,” he said, looking up at the Dowager Marchioness.
“Oh, Father, no. It’s not fair!” Heather burst out, her mouth half full of toast and grape jelly.
“I have some work that needs tending to. And I don’t want to be in the way. Lady Heather would benefit more from being at home, also.”
A gentle uproar of protestation went up, from Heather, Lord Brubrun, and the Dowager Marchioness. Amanda was the only one who was silent.
“You can’t leave early,” the Dowager Marchioness said. “What business could be more important than letting your daughter get a taste of culture and life? And you certainly can’t bring Miss O’Neil back so soon, why I’ve hardly gotten a chance to speak to her.”
“But I want to go to the party!” Heather said. Her big eyes were shining now with disappointment.
“Come now, Lord Ethelred. At least stay for the party,” Lord Brubrun pleaded. The gentleman’s guileless friendliness was irritating, and Joseph wished once again that he could hate the man. “Lady Heather will have such a grand time. Other children are coming as well, and it’s important for children to mix with those their age.”
“Quite right,” the Dowager Marchioness agreed. “So, it’s settled. You will stay at least long enough for the party. After that you may do as you must.”
Amanda’s lips were pressed into a hard line.
Joseph forced a smile to the Dowager Marchioness.
“As you wish, My Lady.”
The ball was planned for the following night. Preparations would be rushed, but that was all for the better in Joseph’s opinion. Everyone would be kept so busy that he could slip away into his parlor and act as though letter writing was keeping him too busy to join in.
Throughout the day, the Dowager Marchioness kept casting him sidelong glances. Apparently, she had finally noticed the friction between himself and Amanda.
* * *
Joseph made himself scarce.
And good riddance, too.
Amanda said it to herself several times, but she couldn’t quite let the bitter sentiment seep in. Despite her anger at him, she still felt his absence acutely, like a dull throb of painful longing that undercut every moment of the day. She had the feeling that she would not be invited back to Ethelred Manor after this. He was displeased with her. Likely, she disgusted him. He wouldn’t want a loose woman like herself taking care of his daughter.
So she focused on spending as much time with Lady Heather as she could as they helped get things ready for the party. Her primary heartbreak was the loss of Joseph’s affection, but she would miss Lady Heather nearly as much. They had grown close in their time together, and it was now difficult to imagine life without the funny little quirks and endearments of the child.
/> She really had come to see Lady Heather as almost a daughter. She had never particularly longed for children herself. Perhaps in a vague sense, but nothing like what she felt now when she saw Lady Heather smile.
Kelly was there to brighten the mood during Joseph’s conspicuous absences, and Amanda tried to see him in a romantic light. He would make a fine father. And the Dowager Marchioness was making hints that she wanted her and him to make a match. But, try as she might, she just couldn’t imagine being made love to by him. He was kind and amusing and she had an immediate attachment to him, but he simply didn’t ignite that spark of desire in her.
Seducing The Perfectly Enchanting Marquess (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 17