by Brenda Joyce
Amanda couldn’t do it.
She was acutely aware of her heart now. She was deeply in love with Cliff de Warenne and nothing would ever change that. She could not marry a man she neither knew nor loved, not even for the security of a home like Ashford Hall. She had never been sadder, because she couldn’t remain at Harmon House this way, either, heartbroken, dependant upon him and still yearning for what would never be.
She was going home, but not until after the ball.
Amanda went to the armoire and slowly took out the beautiful gown she would wear to the Carrington ball. It was the most exquisite dress she had ever seen, elaborate and elegant enough to be a wedding dress, really, with a low square bodice, small cap sleeves, sheer gold chiffon layered over the white floral silk beneath. She had been eagerly anticipating wearing it; she had been sure Cliff’s eyes would blaze when he saw her in it. Now, she felt certain he would barely look at her. She had little doubt that he would not be taking the first waltz with her, if he hadn’t given her his word.
But Cliff de Warenne never broke his word.
He would be there, and she could imagine how awkward being in his arms would now be. After the ball, she would profess her gratitude for all he had done for her—and then she would say goodbye.
Her heart screamed in protest. Amanda held the ball gown up to her chest and regarded herself in the mirror. She didn’t want to be La Sauvage ever again. She didn’t want to roam the island like a boy in breeches. She was going home as a lady; if she was allowed to take her wardrobe with her, she would sell most of it and open up a small shop. Otherwise, she would borrow funds. She knew all about sailing and world trade. She would import a small cargo of the most beautiful fabrics—there had never been enough dress shops in Kingston. She would charge the highest prices possible and start saving the profits. As soon as she could, she would buy her own ship and hire the crew to sail it. Once she had her own ship, she could import anything and she would cruise the world, looking for exotic merchandise. Instead of stealing or begging, she would become a merchant, the first female merchant on the island. Ladies weren’t merchants, but she would be the exception to the rule, just as Eleanor O’Neill was an exception. As Eleanor had advised, she would be quiet, polite and well dressed in public, and privately she would do as she willed. Only then would she swim in the cove or dive off the cliffs just west of Belle Mer.
A bit of the wild child still existed, she rued, but it no longer mattered.
There was one problem. Sooner or later Cliff would return to Windsong, and she would be drawn there. She imagined herself calling on him in his island manor, a wealthy, independent and respected lady now, a dozen years older, perhaps, wearing jewels she had bought herself. Her heart leaped wildly. She would always be thrilled to see him.
She had to close her eyes, fighting her most powerful dreams that even a dozen years from now, his eyes would light up with admiration and hunger, and he would smile at her in that promising way he had and then pull her into his arms….
Amanda put the ball gown on the bed. She was always going to be tempted to dream of his love, but she had better recognize it was only that, a wild, fanciful dream.
It would be better to focus on the present. Last night she had gone to her first opera with the earl and countess, Lizzie and her husband, Tyrell. Briefly, she had been enthralled enough to forget about Cliff. She had enjoyed herself and there was no opera in Kingston. She was genuinely going to miss his family, she thought, and she would even miss town. A knock sounded on her door, but Amanda did not hear it. Maybe one day Eleanor would come to visit her with Sean and Rogan.
Eleanor appeared in the looking glass, her eyes soft with sympathy.
Instantly, Amanda rearranged her sorrowful expression into a pleasing countenance.
“I did knock. But you didn’t answer and I can see you are absorbed in your thoughts.” Eleanor touched her as she turned to face her. “You don’t have to pretend, Amanda. We all know how unhappy you are. I personally am plotting various ways to bring my brother to all of his senses when he returns.”
Amanda continued to smile. “I love my dress,” she said, refusing to discuss Cliff. Then she changed her mind. “Cliff has been wonderful to me. Don’t be angry with him.”
Eleanor’s eyes widened. “You need to stop defending him, Amanda. Do you want to tell me exactly what happened at Ashford Hall to make him run away from you this way?”
Amanda felt her cheeks heat. “He has business abroad,” she began, lowering her eyes.
Eleanor scoffed. “He could send his agent! You are so modest. Some vanity would serve you well, Amanda. You are wrong. He is besotted with you and I have my suspicions as to why he left town as he did.”
“He is fond of me. He has even admitted it.” Amanda went to the bed and took up the dress, returning it carefully to the armoire. She did not want to discuss her feelings for Cliff or their relationship with his sister. “He is hardly besotted.”
“You should seduce him. He’ll pony up if you do.”
Amanda flinched. If Eleanor knew why Cliff had left, she would never be suggesting such a thing.
Eleanor sighed. “You might think about it. In any case, we have callers. And no, it is not your most recent admirer, MacLachlan.”
Since her return from Ashton, there had been quite a few callers. Blanche Harrington had visited and Amanda had enjoyed her company. They had strolled together in the gardens, happening upon Rex as he returned from a hack, but Rex had been in his usual dark humor. There had been other callers, too, as the countess was genuinely admired and very well-liked. Eleanor had received several ladies she knew from her own comeout years ago. Amanda had been present during every call. No one seemed to suspect that three months ago she had led a very different life. Conversation had become easy for her; she no longer had to worry and fret about what she should or should not say and do. And no one knew that deep in her heart she was grieving.
There were gentlemen callers, too. And now that she planned to go home very shortly, she felt guilty entertaining them. MacLachlan had returned, in spite of Cliff’s edict. His father and Adare were friends and the earl openly approved of him. He had brought some bachelor acquaintances with him. There had been other gentlemen, as well, faces she could not recall, names she did not remember, all invited to the house by Adare and his wife to meet her, all being considered as possible husbands.
She felt dreadful deceiving his family now, but she could not tell anyone her plans. She knew that someone would go directly to Cliff to tell him what she intended. The morning after the ball, she would tell him herself. It would be difficult enough to do so. She knew he would be opposed to her plans, but she had made up her mind, and this one time, she would have her way.
“Who is it?” Amanda asked, rearranging her expression into one that was suitably curious. Entertaining was better than grieving and she had no more plans to make.
“I do not know the ladies, but they have called on Lizzie and they are our age.” Eleanor smiled. “You have been such a success, Amanda. Surely you are thrilled.”
Amanda smiled at Eleanor as they went downstairs. “It seems like I arrived here in breeches a lifetime ago.”
“Yes, it does, but it hasn’t been that long.”
“I’ve only been in town six weeks,” Amanda remarked, her heart twisting. And she had spent six weeks with Cliff on his ship. She felt as if she had known and loved him forever.
Eleanor’s next words were strange. “You do know that you can trust me, don’t you? I truly think of you as my sister now.”
More guilt assailed her. “You have become such a wonderful friend,” she said, meaning it. “Tell me about our callers,” she said, to change the subject.
“Lady Jane Cochran is the daughter of the Baroness of Lidden-Way. I have heard of her, as she is quite an heiress. The other two ladies have modest inheritances.” Having reached the great hall, they crossed it swiftly, Eleanor adding, “Perhaps we will both make
new friends.” She was rather wry.
Amanda knew that Eleanor missed Ireland and that she only tolerated London because Harmon House was a gathering place for her family. “Perhaps.” She was noncommittal.
Eleanor, as always, minced no words. “Lady Cochran seems a bit vain. I do hope she is not jealous of you.”
Amanda almost laughed. “Why on earth would she be jealous of me?”
“She is rather homely, dear, and you are so beautiful. They are all unwed and in the market for husbands. Lady Cochran really need not worry, not with her fortune, but I have met her like before and I think she might see you as competition.”
“Eleanor, I do not wish to be competition for anyone.”
“I know, and I know why,” Eleanor whispered as they entered the salon.
Amanda became uncomfortable. Unfortunately, Eleanor seemed to have guessed at her deep love for Cliff. But she was instantly diverted, remarking the three young ladies who were assembled in the salon, all of whom turned to gaze at her. She saw a tall, thin, rather plain young woman wearing a beautiful dress and pearls. From her somewhat haughty bearing, Amanda knew that this was Lady Cochran. Instinctively, Amanda did not care for her. Her overweight friend was quite pretty, actually, with a pleasant smile. The third caller was a nondescript woman, neither tall nor short, fat nor thin, but her expression was boldly curious.
Lizzie came forward to make introductions. “You have already met my sister-in-law, Mrs. O’Neill. This is my brother-in-law’s ward, Miss Amanda Carre. Amanda, this is Lady Jane Cochran, Lady Honora Deere and Lady Anne Sutherland.” Lizzie smiled.
Amanda curtsied, while the other three women inclined their heads. She sensed a tension in the salon which she did not care for. All was not well.
“We have heard all about you,” Lady Cochran said brightly. “And of course, we all know your guardian somewhat. When he is in town and attends a ball, there is quite a bit of swooning. We thought it prudent to greet you and welcome you to town.”
“That is very kind of you,” Amanda said carefully. Jane Cochran was smiling, but she was neither friendly nor warm. Amanda hoped the call would be brief and uneventful.
“It is very kind,” Lizzie agreed, “as we hardly know one another.”
Lady Cochran faced her. “We should become far better friends, don’t you agree? You will one day be Countess of Adare, and I, the Baroness of Lidden-Way.”
After politely agreeing, Lizzie said, “Let me see what is keeping Masters with our refreshments.” She hurried out.
“Is your guardian, Captain de Warenne, in residence?” the plump Lady Deere asked breathlessly, blushing.
Amanda suspected that Honora Deere was infatuated with Cliff. She did not mind, as she could hardly blame her. Cliff would never look twice at Lady Deere, although he would be gallant and charming. She smiled at the women. “Unfortunately he has gone out of town to attend to some business affairs,” Amanda said. “He will be back for the Carrington ball.”
“Lady de Warenne mentioned that you will come-out there,” Jane Cochran said.
Lady Deere’s face fell. “He is so handsome,” she whispered.
“He is so handsome,” Lady Sutherland echoed. “Don’t you think so, too?” She exchanged a look with Lady Cochran.
Amanda became tense. “Of course he is handsome. One would have to be blind not to think so.”
Lady Cochran laughed. “Which you are not! Is he really a buccaneer?”
Eleanor stepped forward. “A buccaneer is a pirate, Lady Jane. My brother is a merchant for the most part and a privateer when it suits him, which is vastly different.” She was clearly annoyed and Amanda touched her hand to restrain her.
“What is it that you really want?” she asked Jane Cochran quietly.
Lady Cochran smiled coolly at Amanda then turned to Eleanor. “Mrs. O’Neill, we didn’t come here to insult Captain de Warenne. He is so dashing and so eligible and we are merely disappointed that he is not here. We came here to visit Lady de Warenne and make Miss Carre’s acquaintance.”
Eleanor smiled tightly. “How gracious of you.”
And Amanda knew no good was going to come of this call. She thought, but was not certain, that these women had come to snipe at her.
Lady Cochran turned to Amanda. “I have never thought him to be a buccaneer, in spite of the whispers,” she said. “He is far too elegant, even if he does wear a dagger and those spurs at all times.”
Amanda smiled, but coolly. “He is the greatest pirate hunter of this time, but of course, you know that. He is accustomed to being armed.”
Jane smiled at her. “Did he hunt your father, Miss Carre?”
Amanda’s heart slammed. This woman knew the truth.
And now, with confusion, she felt her malice and understood why Jane so disliked her. These women had come to sneer at her.
“What does that mean?” Eleanor cried, aghast.
“Surely the horrid rumor is not true? Surely your father was not hanged for piracy?” Lady Cochran continued, smiling widely. “I do mean, why ever would Captain de Warenne foster a pirate’s daughter and dare to introduce her into society?”
For one moment, Amanda was incapable of speech.
So many images filled her mind. She saw Cliff, striding through the crowd at the Spanishtown Square, coming to rescue her as she hid under the scaffolding where Papa would hang; she saw him as he stood at the helm beside her, beneath a canopy of yellow canvas and silver stars, and she saw him as she came down the stairs, for the very first time clad in a dress, his gaze filled with admiration.
And she saw him as he waltzed her about the ballroom in the house, her skirts encompassing them both.
La Sauvage was gone. She had worked so hard to become the woman she now was. Jane and her friends had no right to their condescension and she would not be their sport.
“How dare you come into this house and spread such vicious gossip!” Eleanor cried. “It is a lie, Lady Cochran; Amanda’s father was an island planter who drowned.”
“How odd, as I heard that deWarenne rescued her at her father’s hanging.” Lady Cochran glanced at Amanda as if she were a bug she wished to step on. “I heard her airs are only that, airs, and that she has sailed with pirates, slept with pirates, battled with them! How dare she come to town and pretend to be one of us?”
Amanda trembled, lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “It’s true.”
Eleanor seized her arm. “Amanda!”
Amanda shook her head, pulling away, furious now. Jane Cochran was not going to take her achievements away from her. She might be leaving London, but she was going home as Miss Carre, a lady with manners, a lady who could dance. “My father was hanged for piracy, and I learned how to climb the rigging of a ship when I was four. I can wield a sword better than most gentlemen in this town. But I can waltz, Lady Cochran, and I can read and write, and I have made many new friends here in town.”
“Do not bother,” Jane Cochran began.
Amanda stepped directly in front of her, shaking with her anger. “No. You are the one without manners now. My father was an officer and a gentleman before he turned rogue. Half the pirates in the Caribbean were once naval officers, Lady Cochran.”
“How dare you speak to me in such a tone!” she cried.
But Amanda wasn’t through. “And my mother was a lady—a Straithferne from Cornwall,” she cried in return. “I may not have been raised in a fine house with servants to wait on me, but I should have been raised that way. I have every right to speak to you and I have every right to be here. And not just because I am Cliff de Warenne’s ward. Not just because the Earl and Countess of Adare wish for me to be here. It is my right by birth.”
Jane gaped.
Eleanor stepped forward. “You had better leave this house now, before I throw you out myself.” Being tall, she towered over the other woman.
Jane Cochran made a sound of disgust, gestured impatiently at her friends, and they trooped toward the d
oor. There, she paused. “Whatever dowry your pirate father gave you, whatever airs you have taken on, whatever you may think, it is not enough to make you one of us. I am sorry you must be associated with her, Mrs. O’Neill. This is truly a despicable scandal.”
Amanda said softly, “What is despicable is that you call yourself a lady. Real ladies do not behave as you have just done.”
Jane Cochran gasped.
And Amanda smiled at her.
With a furious glance, Jane left, followed by Lady Sutherland. Honora paused, however, pale with shock. She looked at Eleanor and then at Amanda. “I am so sorry!” she cried. Then she ran after her friends.
Amanda realized she had been holding her breath. Rigid with tension, she somehow exhaled. Someone had learned the truth about her and had spread it about town. Someone was trying to hurt her. It simply didn’t make sense. Amanda couldn’t begin to imagine who would do such a thing.
“Those witches!” Eleanor gasped. She was shaking with rage. “Oh, I shall find a way to make them pay! And wait until Cliff hears of their viciousness. Amanda, you were wonderful!”
Amanda barely heard. She had come so far and that petty Jane Cochran wished to destroy all she had thus far attained. But she didn’t know her, so this was the plot of someone else. She looked at Eleanor. “Even I know that ladies do not act so reprehensibly.”
“She is a skinny, ugly hag, with the nature of a shrew! She will never find love or affection, just some poor fortune hunter! We must plan our revenge.”