Whispers at Midnight

by Parnell, Andrea

  Almost in a panic, she shut the door and hurried through the other rooms, searching them all. There was no evidence of anyone else in the house. Not Ryne. Not another woman. At last she was left with the uncomfortable suspicion that once again her imagination had tricked her. But there was still the matter of the old woman downstairs.

  Undoubtedly she was Gussie, and nearly deaf to boot. And certainly she was not receptive to Amanda’s being at Wicklow. She resented it most emphatically.

  Deep in thought and wondering how she would ever be able to get along with Gussie, Amanda came slowly down the stairs. Gussie wouldn’t be capable of much work, either. She could probably handle cooking duties, but considering her age and inability to move quickly, she wouldn’t be of much help in maintaining the house. At least that explained the layer of dust. It would take someone of Gussie’s age a year simply to sweep the floors at Wicklow. Still, she’d have to keep her on. Aunt Elise had stipulated that Gussie stay at Wicklow as long as she wished.

  Amanda had reached the midpoint of the stairs when she saw that a man had joined Gussie in the great hall below. He was tall and quite nicely turned-out, she judged by the breadth of his shoulders and the trimness of his waist. The snug breeches he wore were fawn-colored and his coat, expertly cut of the darkest brown velvet, was trimmed with gold braid and buttons.

  He removed the cocked hat he wore, uncovering a headful of coppery hair that, though it was cut fairly short, curled delightfully. So Gardner had come, she thought, seeing his tanned face and recognizing the handsome profile of his features.

  He had his face close to Gussie’s and she was saying something to him. Whatever it was seemed to have angered him. He scowled and swore and looked quickly toward the stairs, spotting her there. She thought his scowl deepened for a moment, as if he were having difficulty restraining some fierce emotion. But then he smiled and the dark look vanished.

  “Amanda,” he said eagerly. Gardner shoved the hat and his cane into Gussie’s unwilling hands. Like a springing cat, he bounded up the steps until he reached the point where Amanda stood spellbound. Gardner O’Reilly’s clear blue eyes had lit up with an excitement that must be genuine. He didn’t give Amanda a chance to speak before he wrapped her in a welcoming hug. “How good to see you again,” he said in a voice as smooth and soothing as velvet.

  She met his warm smile with one of her own. “Gardner, how nice to see you too.” Catching a note of his excitement in her own voice, Amanda threw her arms around him as well.

  He pushed back slowly to arm’s length, his hands still resting affectionately on her shoulders. “I suppose it would be trite of me to say how beautifully you’ve grown up.” He laughed. “But I must. It’s true.”

  She felt a pleasantly warm glow flowing through her. The smooth tone of his voice made her feel as if she were wrapped in something soft and plush.

  “Gardner, you’re delightful.” Amanda smiled as he took both her small hands in his and raised them to his lips, kissing each one in turn.

  A moment later, he wrapped one arm around Amanda’s shoulders, and walking step in step, led her down the stairs. As they neared the bottom, he nodded toward Gussie, his eyes openly amused.

  He laughed lightly. “You’ve met Gussie, I gather. She said some young woman had run up the stairs like a wild thing.”

  Amanda stopped abruptly, remembering why she had rushed to the bedroom.

  “Gardner,” she asked, her eyes questioning his, “did anyone else come with you?”

  His brows raised quickly. “No. Only Gussie.”

  Amanda frowned. Could she have been so wrong? “I was certain I saw a woman upstairs as I came up the steps. Would anyone else have come to the house? Or have a key?”

  He had clear, sober blue eyes that were assessing her as he spoke. “I have a key . . . so do Ryne and Gussie . . . and of course Cecil Baldwin. No one else.”

  “You weren’t upstairs earlier?”

  “No, I was in the stable talking to old Jed Long—Groom we call him. You remember him, don’t you? He was here when you came before.”

  Whatever was the matter with her, seeing things, hearing things? Perhaps she was far more tired than she had realized. She sighed gently.

  “So Groom has stayed. Are there still horses?” she asked softly.

  “A few,” Gardner responded. “And a respectable carriage.” Noting her surprise, he added, “Groom wanted to stay. I don’t think even Cecil knows he’s still here. You won’t mind, will you?”

  Amanda exhaled her breath slowly. Had she known about Groom, she could have saved the money she’d spent hiring a carriage and driver.

  “No. Of course not,” she answered, wondering how she would manage to keep two servants.

  “Mother provided for them both,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. “They could leave if they wished. It is their choice to stay at Wicklow. You’ll not need to worry about wages.” Cecil must have told him of her circumstances.

  “Does Groom have a key to the house?”

  “No. In fact, he doesn’t. His domain is the stable and he prefers it that way. I expect what you saw was just the sun hitting the glass and making a shadow.” Gardner smiled and dropped his arm from her shoulder. “There was no one about when we came.”

  “You’re probably right,” Amanda said, chasing those puzzling thoughts from her mind. Her expression had grown still. She glanced at Gussie, then whispered to Gardner, “I don’t think Gussie approves of my having the house.”

  “Gussie?” Gardner chuckled. “Don’t take her too seriously. I don’t believe she has any idea what she’s saying half the time. Anyway, once she gets used to you, she’ll be devoted.”

  But will I get used to her? Amanda thought, tightening her lips fractionally. Perhaps Groom would be happier about the new mistress of Wicklow. If not, she would feel like a thorn among the flowers in her own house.

  “Well, you found her, did you?” Gussie chortled from her spot at the parlor door. “An ill-mannered young woman, Mr. Gardner,” she said, shaking her head. “Just send her right on her way. We don’t—”

  “Gussie,” Gardner shouted. “This is Miss Fairfax.”

  Gussie’s chin raised quickly. “Is it, now?” She really had very observant eyes and Amanda wondered if she hadn’t known all along. The woman made a clucking sound. There was a slight softening of the hardness in her eyes. “Well, you might have said so and not just come rushing in that way.”

  Gardner grinned and tapped Gussie’s arm to get her attention. “Bring us some tea in here, Gussie.”

  Unceremoniously she dropped Gardner’s hat and cane on a table in the hall and waddled away.

  “I suppose I’ll have to learn to shout louder,” Amanda said, smiling. Old Gussie was far more harmless than she led one to believe. Amanda turned her eyes from Gardner for a moment; they had grown warm and watery. “Poor Gussie,” she added. “It must be rather awful for her, never hearing but part of what’s said to her.”

  “She manages.” Gardner sat beside Amanda on the green velvet settee. “You’ll find Gussie a good cook but not much help at anything else. She’s gotten too old and slow for heavy work.”

  “It won’t matter. Once the house is in good order, I believe I can manage well enough on my own.” She was about to tell him of the two women Cecil Baldwin had mentioned but suddenly his face clouded and he spoke up.

  “Then you do plan to stay, not just get the house ready to sell?”

  “Yes,” Amanda said. “I plan to live at Wicklow. Forever.”

  Gardner looked away for a moment, his face serious, his eyes distant. But when he turned back, his lips bore a smile.

  “I think it’s splendid,” he said warmly, taking Amanda’s hand. “No one could add more grace to Wicklow than you.”

  “Then you really don’t mind that Aunt Elise left the house to me rather than to you and Ryne?”

  “I don’t mind, not now. Oh. I admit I was disturbed to begin with. But since then I�
��ve thought about it and it seems right you should have it.” He took her hand and laced his fingers through hers. She liked the comforting feel of his touch and sharing the strength of his hand. “I never wanted the place. Neither Ryne nor I have actually lived here for years,” he went on. “Mother had a house in Williamsburg which is mine now. It’s much nearer my business.”

  “And Ryne?” Amanda asked.

  “He has the lodge his father built down the river a few miles. And there is the cottage with it, if he’s managed to hold on to them. How he feels about your having Wicklow, I can’t say. You’ll have to ask him yourself.” His mouth pulled into a frown. “And, Amanda, don’t be surprised if he shows up here unexpectedly. His place isn’t far away and he’s accustomed to dropping by the house at times.”

  Amanda’s lower lip dropped a bit.

  “I know,” she said haltingly.

  “Has he been here already?”

  She smiled blandly. “Yes, last night. Shortly after we arrived. He had a . . .”

  “A woman with him?”

  “Yes.”

  “He usually does. And seldom the same one.” Gardner paused to draw a deep breath. “I trust the situation wasn’t too awkward for you. Ryne seldom lets a sense of propriety deter his baser diversions.”

  She colored lightly. “He left right away and didn’t return.”

  “I see.” He looked at her intently. “By the way, I brought your trunk inside. If you’ll tell me which room is yours, I’ll take it upstairs.”

  Relieved at a change of subject, she answered quickly, “I haven’t decided. But I suppose I’ll move into Aunt Elise’s old room until I do.” Amanda tilted her head to one side. “Gardner, do you remember the chess set your mother had? The ivory-and-ebony one?”

  “The one Grandfather Jubal gave her? I remember.”

  “Is it still here? I haven’t seen it.”

  “She wouldn’t have parted with it. You’ll find it packed away somewhere.” He laughed and shrugged his shoulders. “Mother moved things from place to place in the house. She was like a pack rat with her little treasure troves.”

  Gussie clattered in at that moment carrying the tea tray and a plate of especially appetizing cakes. She set the tray on the walnut tea table without looking up, and then puttered away.

  Halfway across the room, Gussie stopped and asked in her loud voice, “Anything else you’ll be needin’? I’ve got my dinner to see to.”

  “Don’t bother with it, Gussie,” Gardner said just as loudly. “Amanda will be dining with me in town.” His voice dropped to a near-whisper. “You will, won’t you?”

  “I’d love to,” Amanda replied softly.

  The little wrinkles in Gussie’s plump old face deepened as she smiled thoughtfully at Gardner. Amanda noted an odd gleam in her eyes before she turned and waddled away.

  ***

  The colors of the rainbow sparkled from a crystal bowl filled with roses. Gardner poured another glass of Madeira for Amanda. She lifted the stemmed goblet to her lips and sipped from her third glass of the sweet amber liquid. The Raleigh Tavern boasted the finest dining room in Williamsburg, but another long drive back to the city had been tiring. The trip took more than an hour with a fast team of horses. It seemed lately she had spent most of her time on the seats of some sort of traveling conveyance.

  Gardner watched Amanda’s lovely, gentle face for a moment after she had returned her glass to the table. The candlelight had lent her skin a soft, silken glow as pink and smooth as that of the rose petals between them. The golden fire of the candle flames shone like starlight in her eyes.

  He caught his gaze roving down the silken column of her throat to where the deep neckline of her pale green gown dipped provocatively low. Her breathing had grown slow and deep as she finished the last of her wine. Her dusky lashes hovered a bit too low and too long as she folded a linen napkin and dropped it beside her plate.

  “You’re very tired,” Gardner said huskily, bringing his gaze up quickly to a more gentlemanly height.

  “Yes, I am,” Amanda answered softly, feeling a tiny glow of warmth budding inside as the full effect of the wine reached her blood. “And I’m afraid I’ll be tottering without your arm to guide me to the carriage.”

  “Yours to serve, dear lady,” he said, helping Amanda to her feet and bringing his lips very near her ear.

  She could feel his warm breath stirring the wispy little curls she had carefully trained in place.

  With an easy smile on his face, Gardner linked his arm through hers and gave all the assistance she needed to glide across the dining-room floor and down the street to where his carriage waited. Once under way, the wheels floated as if on clouds. Amanda quickly succumbed to the smooth motion. Such a reassuring comfortable feeling, and with it a pleasant masculine scent and that of tobacco. Such a wonderful contentment. She was stunned when Gardner’s deep voice broke the spell.

  “We’re at Wicklow, Amanda.”

  Murmuring softly, she stirred from within a misty veil of sleep. The night air was cool and fragrant against her face. Lifting up, she felt a warm weight on her shoulders and realized that Gardner’s arm was draped around her. Amanda gasped softly and her lids sprang open fully as she found her own arm wrapped about Gardner’s chest and her head snuggled firmly against his shoulder.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed rather foolishly, and sat up hurriedly, smoothing the stray curls from her forehead. She could feel Gardner’s eyes marking her awkward confusion. At Wicklow? But hadn’t they just left the tavern? She threw back her head and inhaled deeply of the fresh country air. From the brush-covered banks of the river a whippoorwill warbled its mating call. Above the treetops a few wisps of dark clouds made a net for the stars in a midnight sky. “You shouldn’t have let me fall asleep, Gardner.” Amanda hoped that in the darkness he wouldn’t see the deep flush of her cheeks.

  Taking hold of her hands, he laughed lightly. “I have found it most pleasurable to serve as your pillow.”

  The carriage stopped with a jerk. Amanda allowed Gardner to lift her down, feeling even more unsteady on her feet than when they had left the tavern. It was the combination of fatigue and wine, she decided, coupled with a great lack of sleep. She stumbled once climbing the steps, and Gardner, laughing, swept a protesting Amanda into his arms and carried her up the remaining ones. Flamboyantly, he swung open the wide front door and, laughing more loudly at his squirming burden, carried her to the foot of the stairs.

  “Shall I take you up, dear lady?”

  “No,” Amanda said, blushing until she was sure she was as scarlet as the wall panels in the hall. “Leave me a little pride,” she continued, her voice soft but insistent. She laughed. “You’ve seen too much of wine’s effect on me.”

  “As you wish.” Gardner smiled, bowing low, then rising to take her hands.

  “It was wonderful, Gardner,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

  “I thank you,” he said lightly, locking his fingers behind her neck and bending low to kiss her. “Good night, dear lady,” he whispered, lifting the soft touch of his lips from her cheek.

  Amanda stood on the bottom stair in the shadow of the Turkish King, her hand resting on the curved rail of the staircase, feeling warm and safe and anxious to carry the glow Gardner had given her into her dreams. When he had left and locked the door behind him, she spun lightly about and started up to her room.

  She had climbed cautiously all the way to the top of the stairs when she saw Ryne. She almost stumbled back and fell, but he caught hold of her arm and prevented it. He pulled her so close to him that she could feel the hard contours of his body. Her skin prickled all over at his touch and she inhaled quickly and sharply.

  “You are drunk with something, dear cousin,” he said. “Is it wine or something more sweet?” He was dressed entirely in black, his silk shirt open and hanging free of his breeches, his black hair falling unkempt in his face.

  “I am not,” she said. Though he was right, of cour
se. She was quite giddy and it had taken great concentration for her to climb the stairs. Just for a moment she relaxed against him, enjoying the feel of warm skin against her cheek, inhaling the faint scent of sandalwood. He seemed to radiate a smoldering heat that was slowly invading her body. But as she felt a change in him as well, she looked up, wondering why she was so conscious of his eyes and the dark sharp brows that rose slowly.

  There was something very compelling about Ryne, something that excited her like lightning in a storm. But she did not like it that he had started the strange current racing through her body or that his eyes bore down on her with the cold, hard look of blue ice.

  She realized with a start that she had hardly been aware she was playing a dangerous game. Amanda wrenched her arm free and hurried down the stairs with much more certainty than she had climbed them. At the bottom again she shuddered, feeling a dizzy ache in her head and a flush of heat that would not leave her skin. She turned immediately to look up at Ryne. The smile on his face could only have belonged to Satan.

  Chapter 3

  “Wax and wane, look in vain.”

  The batlike shadow of Ezra in flight floated through the candlelight in the great hall. The bird had his secret habitats throughout the house and appeared or disappeared with a whim. He circled overhead once and then perched on the base of the Turkish King, spreading his wings to display the showy iridescent color underneath. Hopping restlessly about, he twisted his head in a peculiar motion that made it appear as if it would snap from his squat neck. How long had he remembered those strange lines he quoted?

  Restless now herself, Amanda hesitated a moment beside the figure of the Turkish King. Even that dour face carved of wood bore a kinder disposition than Ryne’s had at last glimpse. Why had he come back? And why had he allowed her to make a complete fool of herself . . . again? Surely after last night’s encounter he hadn’t thought he’d be welcome. And what was worse was that he had made a ruin of her evening with Gardner. How was it possible for brothers to be as different as Gardner and Ryne? Of course, they were only half-brothers, but one would think they would share a commonality of good manners.