A Lady at Last (20 page)

Immaculate green lawns filled with fanciful flowering gardens bordered the long shell driveway. Ahead, she saw a huge gray stone house set between two taller towers. She felt ill. An hour ago she had wanted to be in London, but she didn't want to take this, her first step, into its fancy society. She wasn't ready, dear Lord.

“We are here,” Cliff said softly.

She could barely tear her gaze from the house to look at him. He sat casually beside her, taking up half of the rear seat with his big body, dressed as he had been for the entire voyage, with the exception that he had donned his spurs. He must be planning to go riding, she thought dazedly, for she had seen a huge brick stable with roses creeping up the walls to the left of the house. “Is Belford House in the West End?” she somehow choked.

“Yes.”

She could not do this, she thought. “Is it like this?”

He wet his lips. “It is grand, but not quite this grand—Belford isn't as well off.”

“Is he also an earl?”

“No. He is a baron.”

Mama was living in the home of a baron, Amanda thought, beyond bewilderment. She had thought her mother would be living in a modest but genteel home; not a castle, not a mansion, and not with a nobleman. “Could she be a servant?”

He hesitated. “I don't know.”

The carriage had stopped. Amanda looked outside. Two liveried doormen hurried from the front door where they had been stationed, their uniforms red jackets with gold braid and white breeches, white stockings and black buckled shoes. Amanda did not move. “Please tell me that the earl and countess are in Ireland,” she whispered.

His eyes flickered. “Amanda, I do not know where they are. But they will welcome you with open arms. Please, trust me. I have never lied to you and I never intend to.”

She stiffened. “But this is their home.”

“They prefer Adare. If anyone is in residence, it might be Ty, taking care of estate affairs.”

She knew all about his entire family now. “But he would be with his wife. You said they remain besotted and are rarely apart.”

Cliff smiled. “A fool's paradise, but I am very happy for them. No one may be here, Amanda. Come. If a hurricane can not frighten you, then surely you can walk into my family home when you are an invited guest.”

Amanda wished she were wearing a proper dress. But there was no avoiding leaving the coach now. She had never felt so sick.

The postilion extended his hand. Amanda just stared. Obviously he wished to help her down, but they had forgotten to teach her that bit of decorum, hadn't they? She heard an odd, hysterical giggle. It had come from herself.

Did Mama have liveried doormen, too?

“Take his hand, Amanda,” Cliff murmured.

Amanda gave the servant her hand and found herself stepping down from the coach. Cliff leaped down beside her, turning to face the carriage containing his children, Anahid and Michelle. He swiftly opened the door, and Alexi leaped out with a wild war whoop. “Alexi,” he objected, “you will spook the horses.”

He ignored his father, racing over to Amanda. “What do you think? The city smells!” He wrinkled his nose. “It's not so bad here, but it was stinking at the docks. Did you see how dirty the streets are? And it's so gray and so cold!” he added.

Amanda realized it was very damp, with none of the warmth of the island. “It's cold,” she somehow agreed.

Cliff came to stand beside her, Ariella's hand in his. “You will be pleasantly surprised,” he said. “Come.”

But before they could move the front door opened, revealing a tall, dark man. For one moment, Amanda assumed it was the earl and she wanted to disappear. But Cliff was shouting, “Rex,” and even as he did so, she realized the man leaned on a crutch and he had lost half of his right leg.

Smiling, the darkly handsome man swung himself down the front steps. Cliff met him halfway and they embraced.

“What is this? A circus troop or a band of gypsies?” Rex said, his eyes dancing. He quickly left his brother to tower over a wide-eyed Alexi. “A gypsy prince, I think. Hmm, gypsies are outlawed in Mayfair.”

“I'm not a gypsy or a prince. But my mother
is
a princess and you know who I am. You're my uncle, the knight, Sir Rex.” Alexi was very serious.

“And you must be Tom?”

Alexi shook his head, appearing annoyed and arrogantly so. “I am Alexander de Warenne.”

Rex clasped his shoulder. “I know exactly who you are, my boy, and welcome to Harmon House.” His gaze settled on Ariella, who was shyly staring at him.

Cliff gestured. “Ariella, your uncle, Rex. If you are ever in need, and I am not present, you can turn to him as you would turn to me.”

Ariella nodded, uncharacteristically speechless, moving closer to Anahid. Amanda wanted to move toward them, too.

But it was too late. Rex had espied her, and his gaze widened, moving from the top of her head to the tips of her boots. Cliff was saying, “The children's governess, Anahid, and their tutor, Monsieur Michelle.”

Rex smiled vaguely, and as he stared again, Amanda felt herself turn red.

“Anahid, please take the children inside. Alexi, you may explore the house and property but you may not take one step outside of the front gates.” As the group began to disperse, Cliff faced her, his eyes filled with such softness her breath caught. “I'd like you to meet my brother.”

Amanda went forward, dragging her feet.

“Rex, this is Miss Amanda Carre. She is from the islands and I have escorted her to London, as she was in dire need of transport.”

Rex looked at Cliff, both dark brows raised. “Really.” Then he turned and bowed slightly, managing the gesture very adroitly and elegantly in spite of his crutch. “It is a pleasure, Miss Carre, and, as I take it you are a houseguest, welcome.”

Amanda bit her lip. It crossed her mind that she should curtsy, but she wasn't going to do so in a pair of pants. “Thank you,” she mumbled. She stepped closer to Cliff. She felt him touch her arm; Rex's dark eyes veered directly to her elbow and his hand.

“A servant will show you to your room, Amanda,” Cliff said, speaking to her as if they were alone. “I know you are indefatigable, but perhaps you wish an hour or so to rest?”

She inhaled, wishing she were anywhere but there. “I am
very
tired,” she lied. “Exhausted, in fact.” She glanced at Rex to see if he might believe her. His gaze was too scrutinizing for comfort. “And I have such a pounding in my head. My stomach hurts, too.”

“Perhaps you should call the physician,” Rex murmured, apparently to Cliff.

Cliff took her arm and led her past Rex, their hips bumping. He leaned close. “Have no fear. If you wish to remain in your room tonight, you need not come down to dine. I'll make your excuses.”

Once again he was saving her from a fate worse than death. Amanda had never been more relieved or more grateful. She gazed up at him, seeking and finding the reassurance she needed in his eyes. “I think I should stay in my room tonight.”

“That's fine.” He touched the small of her back and she turned toward the house. A very dignified manservant stood there. “This is the butler, Harrison. He will see you upstairs. He will see to all of your needs, as well.”

Amanda nodded.

Cliff watched her go, wishing he could somehow take away her anxiety. He turned to smile at his brother. Rex was two years his senior and although as different as night and day, they were close. But he had not seen him in well over a year and a half. He was about to ask him if he was ready for a drink, but Rex was staring so intently that he felt his smile vanish. “What does that look mean?”

Rex hopped over. “Oh, I don't know. You appear here with a ragged, young waif in breeches who is in
dire
need and stand here in front of the house
embracing
her, very publicly. I must wonder, are you mad?”

He stiffened. “I was not embracing her.”

Rex blinked. “I beg your pardon. The two of you share looks as if you are lovers, you walk so closely you appear affixed to one another and just now, while you were whispering and staring into her eyes, she was very much in your arms. Are you my brother or are you an impostor? And if so, where the hell is my brother and what has happened to him?”

C
LIFF WAS FURIOUS
. “Your brother isn't mad, he is standing right here, and he is not sharing a bed with a seventeen-year-old
child
.” He stormed into the house, absolutely disbelieving, but then, Rex's morality had always been excessive and annoying.

In spite of his crutch, his brother followed him inside, just as swiftly. Cliff went into the library and poured himself a drink. Only then did he face his brother. “I have always preferred women a bit older than my own age, as you damn well know,” he added harshly. He slammed down the drink.

“Then you had better think about how you behave with your waif, as anyone with eyes will think as I have,” Rex said calmly, although he seemed very curious.

“
You
are mad!” Cliff exclaimed. “I am her protector, as she has no one else. And she is not
my
waif.” He hesitated. “She is my protégée—for the moment.”

Rex began to smile. “You are her protector? She is your protégée? What, exactly, does that mean? And since when have you had a relationship with any woman outside of a bedroom?”

Cliff slammed his glass down on the marble top of the sideboard. “I rescued her from a jeering, bloodthirsty mob. Her father was about to be hanged and a group of boys were throwing stones at her. Had you been there, you would have rescued her, too.”

Rex stared, brows high. “I see you have quite the story to tell. I have all night.”

Cliff began to calm. Besides, he undoubtedly needed his brother's advice. “There is a hell of a story. Her father was a pirate and she has spent half of her life on the main, cruising for prizes with him.”

Rex was shocked. “Good God! She doesn't look like a pirate's murderous wench!”

“She isn't. She is oddly naive—he never let her witness a battle, and he grounded her when she turned twelve. However, she was raised amongst rowdy rovers and thieves. She was allowed to run freely about Jamaica Island. Before I rescued her at the hanging, I had seen her about, sometimes swimming in a cove, or on a raft, surfing the waves. Everyone knew her as La Sauvage.” He smiled grimly. “She was wild. Now—” He stopped. “Now she is caged up.”

Rex folded his arms, staring. “What does that mean?”

“In a way, I hate what I have done—and it isn't taking her to bed.” But as he paced, he thought of the dawn after the storm, when he had done everything but take her innocence.

“Really? So you are not flushed with guilt?” Rex asked.

Cliff whirled. “She is a
virgin,
” he said, stressing the noun.

“And you would know that because…?”

Cliff felt like smashing his brother, just once. “She told me.”

“I see. A suitable subject for a protector and his protégée. By the way, the countess, Lizzie and Eleanor are here. “

Cliff tensed. “Amanda is afraid of society.” He shook his head. “She spent all night beside me in near-hurricane winds, smiling, by God, as if a sea goddess, but she is afraid of the ton's mockery and scorn. I have brought her to town so she might meet her only living relative. On board my ship, she has been tutored in the social graces. I have never seen anyone more determined to master a subject they have no care for!” He sighed. “I am glad the countess, Lizzie and Eleanor are in residence. If anyone can help Amanda make a successful transformation, it is those three.”

Rex was gaping. “You are trying to transform a pirate's child into a lady?”

“It seemed the obvious course of action.”

“Of course it did.”

“Knowing she is innocent,” Cliff said sharply, “it is my duty to protect her, especially now, when the rakes in town will swarm after her, thinking her an easy mark.”

“Of course it is your duty. My charming, rakehell, conscienceless brother, infamous for his seductions of courtesans and countesses, is now the champion of a pirate's daughter. This will be a very interesting Season, I think. You do plan to stay on?” Rex was now laughing.

“I promised her I would secure her future,” he said gruffly. “I see I am entertaining you!”

Rex widened his eyes, feigning innocence. “I am hardly amused…I am in shock, frankly. You are going to secure her future, too?”

“That is correct. She has no one else.” Annoyed again, Cliff went to the door and closed it. “Actually, her mother is here in London, Rex. She has come to town to be reunited with the woman she believes is married to her father. Amanda has been told her mother is Dulcea Straithferne Carre and that she resides at Belford House. Do you know Lady Dulcea Belford?”

Rex was surprised. He limped to the sofa and sat. “I am sorry. I know of her and I see where you go. You think her mother is Lady Belford…which makes Amanda her illegitimate daughter.”

“Amanda has been devastated by the loss off her father,” Cliff said, joining him on the sofa. “Now she will learn her parents were not wed. I fear for her reception, knowing Dulcea even as little as I do. But I am determined to make this reunion work. Amanda has suffered enough. She deserves some of life's good fortune.”

Rex shook his head. “You must be smitten. Cliff, society is unkind and you probably know it better than anyone. You may be able to ignore the gossip behind your back but she seems quite young and fresh to me. Whatever you think you have done on your ship, Miss Carre does not look ready to enter the ton—and not because she dresses like a boy. Of course you must attempt this reunion with Lady Belford, but I would think twice about casting her into society.”

“As for her dress, she has no gowns. I sent a Regent Street seamstress a missive from the docks and I expect a reply before this evening is out. Amanda will not be ridiculed when she enters society, because I am going to be with her and we will wait until everyone agrees she is ready.” He stared. “And I am not smitten. I am being honorable, that is all.”

Rex patted his shoulder. “It is about time.” He chuckled. “Very well. We will call your feelings those of honor. When will you attempt to introduce mother and daughter?”

“I don't know. I am eager to have the help of our ladies now. And I do not mind deferring to their advice, either. In fact, I welcome it.” Rex laughed again, and Cliff ignored him. “I will call on Lady Belford tonight, alone. The sooner I make certain she is amenable to the reunion, the better.”

Rex shook his head, his smile gone. “I am very aware that, like Devlin, you are a master of the seas. London society is not the main. Your power is finite here. I hardly recall you being at the pinnacle of society. There are whispers behind your back—whispers you seem to encourage and covet. You can do your best to shield Miss Carre from any unpleasantness, but you cannot force Lady Belford to take her in, nor can you make society accepting of her rather unique ways. In fact, society might have some of the very same questions about this odd pairing that I have had.”

Cliff stood. “You are wrong. I can and will shield Amanda. I have tolerated those whispers because they amused me. Now, I will throw my wealth around town so blatantly it will be obscene, and the whispers will cease. I never fail. I do not intend for this to be the first time.” He started across the room.

“Where are you going?” Rex asked softly.

“I am going to check on Amanda and see if she is pleased with her accommodations. She is not used to servants and I doubt she has asked for a single thing.”

“Cliff.” Rex stood. “She may be in breeches, but she is a young and very beautiful woman. You're not on your ship. You can't meander into her private rooms so casually. It will be below stairs and then upstairs and all about the ton before dawn. Will you ruin her reputation before you have even launched her? You alone are fodder for gossip, but now you add La Sauvage into the equation. I want you to succeed, but you must proceed with caution.”

Cliff felt an unwelcome frustration, for Rex was right. “I am going to check on her—but briefly.” He hesitated. “We will speak in the hall.”

Rex simply stared after him, his thoughts clear. This was not going to be a mission so easily accomplished.

 

A
MANDA LEAPED TO HER FEET
at the sound of Cliff's steps outside of her door. Before he had even knocked, she threw it open, terribly relieved to see him. He stood there, appearing somewhat surprised by her manner, and she had to remind herself not to fling her arms around him. “You did not forget me!”

He smiled. “That would be impossible.”

She bit her lip. “You are flirting.”

“Am I?” He glanced past her into her room. “Are you comfortable in these quarters, Amanda?”

“Am
I
comfortable?” She had thought the furnishings at Windsong to be luxurious, but this was so very different. The bedroom reeked of past centuries, of a family heritage and tradition she could barely understand. There were faded portraits in old gilt frames in the hall, and the secretary in the bedroom looked as if it belonged in another place and time. Harmon House was so obviously a part of the de Warenne family's history that she could actually feel their ancestors lurking in the shadows of the corridor.

“I take it you approve?”

She nodded. “Why are you standing in the hall? Can't you sit down and talk to me for a moment?” She gave in to what she really wanted to know. “What did your brother say when I left? And what did you tell him about me?”

He hesitated. “I can't come in. I am a notorious bachelor, and if I cross that threshold and a housemaid sees us, your reputation is over before we have ever introduced you to anyone.”

She felt her anxiety heighten. In a way, she had already entered society. She was queasy. “I don't really care.” Yet that was a lie.

“But I do.” He smiled at her again. “I will have a supper tray sent up.”

She stared. “You didn't answer me.”

“Rex thinks you are very young and very beautiful and he is surprised that I am your protector.” Cliff shrugged.

“That is all?”

“That is all. However, I do have news. It is really good news, so you must take it as such.”

Amanda was instantly uneasy. “What is it? Is it about my mother?”

“No. My stepmother, my sister-in-law and my sister are in residence. They are out taking tea.”

Amanda turned and walked over to a beautiful love seat striped in pale blue, ivory and gold, where she sat. A small fire burned beneath an ornate and carved wood mantel, but she did not see it. Everything was happening too quickly! She wasn't ready to meet the countess, his sister or the woman who would one day become the next countess of Adare. Her stomach heaved.

Cliff walked into the room. “Amanda. They are not like the ladies you have met in Kingston. I swear it. They are kind and generous and they will be delighted to meet you.”

Amanda shook her head. “I am doomed, before ever meeting my mother.”

“I thought you trusted me.”

She looked up. “I do. But they can't possibly be kind. They may pretend to tolerate me, but they will look down on me.”

He clasped her shoulder. “I won't try to tell you again that you are wrong. I'll introduce you tonight if you wish, so you don't worry yourself all evening.”

Amanda stood, facing him. “I'll wait until the morning.” She couldn't form a smile.

Amanda heard footsteps. Cliff turned. A beautiful and elegant young woman was passing by her open door. The tall woman halted, staring in disbelief. “Cliff?”

He dropped his hand. “Speak of the devil,” he teased.

The lady glanced at Amanda, her eyes growing wide, and a gleam came into them as she walked in. “I see you have brought home a guest?” she asked too sweetly.

He snaked his arm around her and pulled her very hard to his side. “Yes, I have, a guest I hope you will befriend.”

She shrieked in protest and pulled free, punching him in the chest. Then she smiled at Amanda, her topaz eyes filled with interest.

Amanda flushed uneasily.

“Ow. Come back here.” Cliff caught her by her ear and this time, pressed a kiss to her cheek.

She hugged him hard. “Who is the devil in this room?” she laughed, releasing him. Then she faced Amanda again. “Hello! I am Mrs. Sean O'Neill and this cad is my brother. Sometimes I love him very much and sometimes I dream of ways to throttle him. He can be hugely annoying.”

“Do not listen to her. I am charming and pleasant—unless provoked.” Cliff laughed. “Eleanor is the little sister I have told you about, except she is really an Amazon,” Cliff said by way of introduction. “Mrs. O'Neill, do meet Miss Amanda Carre.”

Amanda trembled, uncertain of what to think. Clearly brother and sister adored one another. She had never thought to see a real lady punch anyone, not even her brother, and this woman
was
a lady—she was beautiful and elegant and the daughter of an earl. Mrs. O'Neill had definitely remarked her breeches and boots. “Hello,” Amanda began, almost hoping that the sister would vanish. She waited for the inevitable sneer.