Whispers at Midnight

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Whispers at Midnight Page 22

by Parnell, Andrea


  Amanda’s cheeks flushed brighter. She drew back and looked in every direction to see if anyone had noticed Ryne’s fondling.

  Her mouth quivered. “How would I know? You have avoided me for days.”

  Looking devilishly handsome, he smiled down at her. “That was because I didn’t know what to make of you. I had not placed you in the role of innocent seductress.” He shrugged and took a step nearer. His eyes roved lazily over her. “To find you were a virgin was a shock from which I am only now recovering.”

  Amanda tried to take a step back, but found she was pressed against the window of the little shop. Ryne, she felt, was standing far too close for propriety. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek as he spoke.

  “You haven’t told me.”

  She looked at him unkindly. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Ryne’s smile widened. “The hat. Which do you prefer, ribbons or feathers?”

  “Ribbons,” she said stiffly, pushing past him.

  He caught her arm and whirled her back to him.

  “I like you best in moonlight and a soft bed of grass.”

  A rush of color sped to her face.

  “Ryne, please,” she said pleadingly. “You are making a spectacle of us. If we must have it, this is not the proper place for such a conversation.”

  “My apologies, madam,” he said, stepping back with an exaggerated gallantry. “Join me for a tankard of ale and I promise to speak only in lowered tones.”

  “Perhaps another time, Ryne,” she said, drawing her arm from his grasp and starting to walk away. “I am to meet—”

  “Gardner at the Raleigh, no doubt. His favored spot.”

  He caught up with her and took her arm again, causing several heads to turn in their direction. “No harm in having a drink with me until he arrives.”

  “I think we should not.”

  “Then, madam, we must have this out here. I will have my say, whether here or in a quiet corner of the tavern.”

  Amanda noticed with chagrin the stares of passersby. “We’ll go to the Raleigh then,” she said, appalled by his insistence, when she had plainly indicated she preferred not to accompany him. She felt a slight relief too. It seemed apparent Ryne knew nothing of what had happened in Evelyn’s sitting room.

  He took some of her packages but kept a tight grip on her elbow as they walked the few blocks to the tavern. Smiling, he nodded and greeted by name almost everyone they passed on the street. But Amanda, reluctantly at his side, was still simmering at his heavy-handed means of having his own way.

  “Smile, Amanda,” he whispered. “Or all Williamsburg will think you are a shrew.”

  “Ha!” she scoffed. “I may well be, if I must contend with you.”

  “That, Amanda, will be up to you. I wish to make you a proposition.”

  Amanda smiled grimly. He wanted something. Money perhaps, to buy more horses or to pay his gambling debts. He might have followed her and have learned the value of the emerald earrings. She wondered if he had known about them and simply not known where to look. Would they have disappeared like the chess set if Aunt Elise had not kept her things in such haphazard order?

  Ryne escorted Amanda into the tavern and asked for a table near a window at the far corner of the dining room. He ordered a tankard of ale for himself and a glass of Madeira for Amanda. She watched pensively as feminine eyes were drawn to Ryne. His black garb set him apart from the other gentlemen in their dun-colored or gray or blue coats and breeches.

  It was the first time she had seen him in the company of others and she was suddenly aware, as were those other women, that no other man in the tavern was nearly so handsome. Indeed she had yet to see the man who could compete with him on that score. With a pensive sigh she admitted that none present even came close to having his broad shoulders and narrow hips, or the look of harnessed energy the long, sinewy muscles gave his body.

  But while the other women eyed him admiringly, Amanda eyed him covertly.

  “What is it you wish to say to me, Ryne?” she asked boldly, having made up her mind she would not be awed by his brash manner. “I have only a few minutes before Gardner is to meet me here.”

  Ryne scowled. “You seem to have my brother ever at your beck and call.”

  “Indeed I do not!” Amanda retorted sharply. “It is simply that your brother is considerate enough to anticipate a woman’s needs and whims. He has seen fit to drive out and bring me into town on several occasions and to introduce me to many of his friends.” She smiled. “Very gentlemanly behavior, I must add.”

  Ryne swore silently. Much as he tried to prevent it, it irked him that she found his brother so praiseworthy and had only sharp words and reprisals for him. But as he remembered the night by the river, a slow smile spread across his lips and a dark flame showed deep in his eyes.

  “He has not been able to anticipate all your needs, my sweet. It has been left to me to attend to some of them.”

  Amanda’s cheeks burned and her fingers shook on the stem of the wineglass she held.

  “You are a loutish brute,” she hissed.

  “I am a man,” he answered softly. “And you a woman. I have felt the blood run as hot in your veins as in my own.”

  He bent low over the table so that his face was near hers. His large hand covered her smaller one in a warm clasp. Amanda was so startled by his words and his touch that she spilled a few drops of wine from her glass. She pulled her hand from beneath his and glanced about, fearing that the proximity of the other guests in the tavern room made it possible for them to know the nature of their conversation.

  “Ryne,” she pleaded, “do please take care what you say.”

  Ryne laughed, and paying little attention to her protest, continued.

  “We have found a common ground, Amanda. And using that, we could make an agreement that would satisfy us both.” His eyes darkened seductively. “I have decided I would like to stay at Wicklow permanently, and with my help you could maintain the house as grandly as you like.”

  Amanda watched with rounded eyes as the timbre of his mercurial voice started a small, anxious flutter in her heart. She knew what he was about to say.

  His voice was velvet-edged and soft. “I would like you to be—”

  “Stop it,” Amanda whispered, giving him a black look. Her emotions reeled out of control and for a moment she sat silently trying to pull her thoughts together. He was going to ask her to be his mistress. She felt a raw hurt, as if a knife had sliced into her heart. Perhaps she deserved this despicable offer for having been such a fool. But she did not have to hear it from his lips. That humiliation she could spare herself.

  “I don’t think you understand,” Ryne said, an amused look twinkling from the depths of his blue eyes.

  “Oh, but I do,” Amanda answered, her voice icy and exacting. “And the answer is no. I would not be your mistress, any more than I would be your wife.”

  A muscle twitched in Ryne’s jaw. The knuckles whitened and grew tense over his clenched fists.

  “I see,” was his seething reply.

  “Good,” Amanda answered with a scowl, but her defiance was tested a moment later when Ryne’s gaze impaled her like a lance and his voice dropped to a growl.

  “Have your way, Amanda. But if you still plot to catch Gardner, you’ll find he’ll not want a virgin first sullied by his brother.”

  His words burned through her like a hot iron. Amanda felt her voice fading to a whisper as she responded, “You would not tell him of that.”

  Anger hardening his features, Ryne got noisily to his feet. He gave her a cold, contemptuous smile.

  “I would,” he said, and turned abruptly to stalk away to another room of the tavern.

  Amanda breathed a troubled sigh and pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks. It seemed that whenever she and Ryne were together more than a few minutes, their anger erupted as violently and hotly as boiling lava from a volcano.

  She hoped Gardner would a
rrive soon. She needed his calm reserve to balance the torrent of emotions she felt. What vexed her most was that just for a moment she had felt her heart wavering on the brink of considering what Ryne wanted of her.

  A single tear welled in the corner of her eye. Amanda make quick work of dabbing it away with a lace handkerchief she snatched out of her pocket. How he would gloat over that tidbit. She could see the diabolical amusement on his lean face as if he still sat at the table with her.

  Ryne would undoubtedly be pleased to know that even though he tormented her with churlish disregard for her feelings, she still could not cut him out of her heart.

  When Gardner arrived, she forced a bright smile to her face and did not hesitate to take a second glass of Madeira. With all her heart she wished she had ordered Ryne Sullivan out of Wicklow the first moment she had seen him.

  ***

  The innkeeper cast troubled eyes on the young Mr. Sullivan. Never had he known the gentleman to drink so much. In the space of an hour the man had consumed well nigh a small keg of ale. And in his inebriated state he had challenged every man in the room to a game of billiards, all for stakes high enough to put any but the wealthiest man in ruin. By some run of luck, Mr. Sullivan had won every game, though it was hard to figure how the gentleman even stayed on his feet.

  The last game had been wagered over a ruby ring banded by a circle of diamonds. Mr. Sullivan had pulled it from his pocket and with a loud oath declared he had less use for the bauble than the devil for fire.

  To the innkeeper’s relief, no man had taken up the last challenge, all knowing Ryne Sullivan’s reputation and none willing to risk the possibility of his temper taking a sour turn should he lose. Finally Ryne had staggered out of the tavern and, hopefully, found a place to sleep off the sprits.

  ***

  Dressed in pink silk brocade but little recovered from her encounter with Ryne, Amanda sat at the dressing table in a guest bedroom at Gardner’s house. Halfheartedly she dabbed jasmine scent behind her ears and on her wrists and then began brushing the fullness of her honey-brown hair. She combed and pinned it into a style that reflected the severity of her mood, smoothing it close to her head and wrapping it into a tight bun. The only bit of gaiety in the style was her use of a silver net to cover the bun, and the silver comb that held it in place.

  Why couldn’t Gardner be the one she cared for? Why had she lost her heart to his ribald brother? Perhaps she was to be as luckless with men as her mother had been. She clipped the pair of pearl earrings in her lobes and turned her head to check the effect. Next week she could wear the emeralds. She was to attend the theater and a party afterward with Gardner. It would be the first party with the society of Williamsburg and she hoped to make a good impression. Already Gardner had hinted of holding a party at Wicklow later in the summer.

  Amanda sighed and moved to a cushioned bench beneath the window. If only Ryne had not come upon her today and spoiled her enthusiasm for everything.

  Outside a summer shower started up, the light rain falling in glistening rivulets over the dusty leaves and dry paths in the garden. The rain would not last long but it would cool and freshen the air. That was a promise when the sun did not bother to hide its head during a shower. How special and bright the world looked when the sunshine and rain met like two enemies in a truce.

  Shortly Gardner’s guests would arrive. She owed it to him to be charming and in good spirits at his table. As she stared out the window, the jewel colors of the refreshed flowers in the garden helped to lighten her mood. She had even begun to hum a song when Gardner’s maid announced herself and entered.

  “A messenger brought this for you. Miss Fairfax. No more’n a minute ago. Said it were a good-luck present.” She hovered there near the door, burning with curiosity and waiting for Amanda to untie the cord around the box.

  Thinking it a gift from Gardner, Amanda slowly loosened the cord’s knot and removed the lid from the box.

  “Oh, madam! Isn’t it just too pretty?” Molly had hastened to Amanda’s side and was gazing admiringly at the contents of the box.

  Pretty? Yes. And under other circumstances she would have been thrilled with the gift. But instead of showing happiness, Amanda’s face paled to ashen white as she unfolded and read the enclosed note.

  To help you in your quest.

  Had Ryne some way of knowing the very moment he would most effectively dampen her spirits? Why wouldn’t he leave her alone?

  With trembling fingers she reached into the box and lifted out the frothy, ribboned bonnet from the hat shop.

  Chapter 10

  A pale moon struggled through the heavy clouds as the last guest departed from Gardner’s house. Those who were staying the night, as was Amanda, lingered a few minutes more in the drawing room before they too bade one another good night and retired for the evening. Amanda was the last to climb the stairs, thinking it her duty as hostess to see the other guests settled before she went to her room.

  “Oh, so there you are.” Gardner quickly tucked a folded paper into his coat pocket. “I thought you had gone up before me.”

  “No,” she answered as she paused two steps below him. “I waited until the last of your tireless guests were gone.”

  They shared a smile as Gardner stepped down beside her.

  “A long-winded lot, are they not? But you have yourself to blame that the festivities lasted until this late hour.”

  “Oh?”

  “Indeed. Never has a more charming lady graced my table.” Gardner’s smile broadened into one of approval.

  She nodded graciously. “It was a most pleasant evening. I hoped you were not disappointed.”

  “Disappointed?” He grasped her hand lightly and lifted it to his lips. “Dear cousin, I have been chastised by all the guests for not introducing them earlier to the lovely Amanda Fairfax. And I daresay you will find yourself quite the toast of Williamsburg from this night on. You will have more invitations than you can possibly accept.” He smiled. “Next week when you are here we will begin our preparations for a ball at Wicklow.”

  Amanda’s face glowed with happiness. It had happened just as she had dreamed and hoped. She had taken her place, in her own right, among the genteel people of Williamsburg. With Gardner’s help, and she would not forget that, she had gained all she longed to have. Here, for the first time in her life she existed on her own, not in the shadow of her mother. These people liked her and cared about her for her own qualities and accomplishments, however meager.

  She was still basking in the glow of Gardner’s compliments when she reached her room. But before she went inside, she remembered the ivory fan she had left in the drawing room. Lest she forget to fetch it in the morning before Gardner drove her back to Wicklow, she hastened downstairs for it.

  Not wanting to disturb any who might by now have gone to bed, Amanda stepped quietly on the stairs, and when she reached the hall, moved almost soundlessly toward the drawing room.

  She stopped short when a loud voice rang out from Gardner’s study.

  “You promised I’d be paid three days ago, Mr. O’Reilly. My patience is nigh gone.”

  “Easy, man. You’ll have your pay. These things are not so easy to arrange as you might think. Another week more. I implore you.”

  She detected the anxiety in Gardner’s voice. It sounded odd that he would speak in any but the calm, placid tone she had come to associate with him. The other voice, gruff and angry, she did not know.

  “One week. No more. If I don’t have it then, there’ll be trouble brewing, Mr. O’Reilly. A man must pay his debts or pay another price. Be warned.”

  “You’ll have what’s due you.” Gardner’s voice was placating. “Now, have a drink, my man, before you go.”

  Amanda was annoyed at herself for having stood and listened to the conversation. Ashamed, she hurried into the drawing room and quickly found her fan on the mantel where she had left it. She did not linger even a moment, but made her way promptly up the stairs
to her bedroom. Just a few minutes later she heard the front door shut and then the sound of Gardner’s heavy footsteps on the stairs.

  It had been wrong of her to eavesdrop. And what was the use of her worrying about Gardner’s affairs? Every man had a bit of trouble in business now and then. The visitor probably wanted payment for some deal the two had struck, and Gardner, for reasons no doubt sound, wanted to stall him.

  Next morning when she saw Gardner she could believe the incident had not occurred. He was in his usual good-humored state and if the late visitor’s demand had upset him one whit, it did not show. He was in truly high spirits as he helped her into the carriage.

  “You have a new bonnet, I believe.”

  “Yes, I do.” Amanda laughed lightly as a cascade of colorful ribbons tickled her neck. She had donned the bonnet as an act of defiance. Even if Ryne had given it simply to make her angry, it was far too lovely to be cast aside. Let him think what he would, she would wear the bonnet anyway.

  She wished, as she girded herself with determination, Ryne could see that his lamentable behavior had not unsettled her at all.

  ***

  “Hello, Groom,” Amanda greeted the old man. He was a thin, knotty old fellow whose eyesight was undoubtedly failing. Occasionally he would pull a pair of spectacles out of his pocket when he talked to her, but mostly she noted that Groom preferred not to use them. She supposed he knew the way around the stable so well that the spectacles were more a nuisance than a help.

  “ ‘Mornin’, Miss Amanda. You riding today?”

  “Not today, Groom,” she answered. “I only came out to see how you were doing.” She had ridden several times since she returned from Gardner’s, but today she had things to do in the house. “How are the kittens?”

  “Wild and sassy,” he answered with a wink. “But regular good ratters.” Groom had been overjoyed that she had not held that incident against him. He had insisted even the old Cap’n would have approved of her. “Why, once when a feller was there what he didn’t trust, the Cap’n’s spirit put out all the candles in Wicklow. True, mum,” he said.

 

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