A Lady at Last (24 page)

She closed her eyes tightly, and he knew she was regretting her rash words.

“Amanda,” he said softly. “Last night was my fault entirely. But if you think a bit, you will become pleased that you are my ward. You will be cared for as you never have been, not just by myself but by my family, as well.”

“I don't want to be your ward.”

He knew he had hurt her and no amount of rationalizing or explaining could change what he had done. “I am sorry,” he almost begged. He wished he had never gone to her room last night to tell her the terrible truth. “Amanda, you have no other options.”

It was a moment before she spoke. “Your stepmother said it will be hard to find me a husband because I am
dubious
,” she said. “Maybe it will be impossible.”

He winced. “That is not what she said. She said your family background is rather dubious, which it is. She is eager to help you enter society and succeed there. And it will not be impossible.”

Amanda stared at him with hurt, accusing eyes.

“What is it that you really wish to say?” he demanded with dread.

“I want the truth.”

He tensed. “In regards to which subject?”

“The subject—” she wet her lips “—of our being lovers.”

He slowly nodded, his heart drumming thick and swift. “And what is the question?”

“If I were a lady, nobly born and bred, would we be lovers?”

“That isn't fair,” he exclaimed.

“We'd be lovers and you know it! You wouldn't be protecting me, you'd be tossing me!” she cried, batting at tears. “The way you almost did last night!”

He walked over to her, suddenly angry. “That is probably the truth, but not for the reason you are accusing me of. I am not bigoted against you. You are barely eighteen—I am ten years older and more experienced than you!” He was shouting. “You are tempting—I have admitted it! And if you were older and you equaled me in experience, I would gladly do the deed. But you aren't older, you have no experience, and I actually see a glimmer of hope for you. I want you to have a pleasant life, Amanda, and if I
toss
you, as you just put it, no gentleman is going to take a second look at you. How much more succinct do I have to be?”

“I don't know what succinct means and I don't care! I knew it. I'm not good enough for you—like I wasn't good enough for my mother!”

“That's exactly the opposite of what I said.”

“Then you are lying,” she said, and she struck at him, hard.

He caught her wrist before her palm could connect with his jaw. “I don't blame you for being furious,” he said. “I was terribly bold last night. I have said it over and over, that wasn't what I intended, but that is what happened. I am sorry.”

“I'm not!” She wrenched free. “I think I hate you now. I wish we had never met, and I certainly wish I was anywhere but here.”

He couldn't move or speak. He was absolutely stricken. She ran for the door. Shocked, he chased her. “Wait! You don't mean that—”

She pushed him away. “I mean it. Leave me alone, de Warenne. Just leave me alone! And do not ever come uninvited into my room again!”

He froze.

She stumbled from the room.

Eleanor was standing outside in the hall, clearly having been eavesdropping on them. Cliff was too distressed to even think of what she had overheard, but when she sent him a cold, cutting look, he began to realize the crisis about to be unleashed.

“Amanda, dear,” she said, reaching for Amanda, who was almost in tears. “Madame Didier is here and I would like to help you choose a new wardrobe. It will be a merry time! Let's go up, my dear, and while we do so, I can tell you all about my miserable, dastardly, callous and selfish brother. Oh, did I forget that he is arrogant, high-handed, cruel and a complete cad, as well? But don't worry. He will never have entry to your private room again!”

Amanda sniffed. “He is a bastard, but he isn't cruel or a cad.”

Eleanor gave him a dire look and she and Amanda started up the stairs, arm in arm.

“Well done,” Rex said, stepping out of the dining room. “Can you not, for once in your life, keep your trousers on?” In disgust, he shook his head.

Cliff scowled, but could not reply. The countess came into the hall. She gave him a worried look and followed Eleanor and Amanda up the stairs.

Cliff leaned against the library doors, his heart aching so oddly. It seemed that no matter what he did, he hurt Amanda, and he suddenly hated himself. She did not deserve his abuse. He had made her several promises, and providing her with a certain future was one of them.

But he was not that future. Of course, he was not.

 

A
MANDA WENT
to the bedroom window while the couturier began unpacking her valise. How could she have asked Cliff de Warenne to marry her? Her cheeks burned with mortification.

“Amanda?” Eleanor said softly, from behind.

Amanda didn't hear her. After last night, she had thought they would be lovers, not husband and wife. Being his wife had never been even a part of her wildest dreams. She knew she wasn't good enough for him. But she had gone downstairs to find him discussing a dowry and suitors and she had realized he meant to find her a husband. Amanda had been stunned and frantic. Sheer impulse had caused her to blurt out that terrible suggestion. Now, she was numb.

She had traveled halfway across the world to be reunited with her mother, but her mother did not want her. After last night, she had thought that De Warenne wanted her as a lover, but he didn't. In fact, he was now claiming to be her guardian and he was going to marry her off to someone else.

Amanda just stood there at the window, hurt and bewildered and trying to make sense of her life.

She'd had a plan for all of these past weeks, a plan with de Warenne. She would learn to be a lady with his help so she could enter society and live with her mother. As clumsy as her efforts had been, she had been determined to accomplish the impossible. She had wanted to become a lady, at least in appearance, and not just so Mama would love her. Her entire life, she had been an outcast and outsider, standing outside of fancy houses, peering through the windows into fancy salons and shops, knowing she was different and wishing she were not.

De Warenne had given her a chance to change all of that.

Amanda trembled. She had pretended not to care about changing herself, but the truth was, she had cared, because otherwise, she wouldn't have tried so hard. She still cared. She cared enough to be crying now.

Her home was gone, taken away from Papa by the authorities. She didn't want to go back to the island, where she would have to lie and steal and beg in order to survive. She didn't want to be that wild child again.

Amanda wiped her eyes.

Of course de Warenne didn't want to marry her; she had never expected him to want her as a wife. She had been stupid enough to fall in love with him and she had yearned to be his lover, even for a while. But he was a man of honor, the kind of man she hadn't really believed existed until she had met him. He was being noble now. He had chosen to become her protector on the island, and now he had chosen to be her guardian, when he owed her nothing at all. He could cast her out; instead, he was providing her with a generous dowry so she could marry well.

It hurt, but she was also grateful. The image she had been entertaining recently filled her mind, somewhat altered. Now, clad in a beautiful dress, she saw herself polished and proper, sitting with Cliff de Warenne in a rose garden, and he was smiling fondly at her. But they were only good friends—because she was someone else's wife.

“Look at this ivory and coral,” Eleanor was saying, holding up a sprigged pattern. The coral was a faint vein in the sprigs. “With your hair and eyes, this will be lovely on you.”

Amanda realized the other woman was regarding her with sympathy and concern. She started, for swatches of fabric were piling up on the bed. She blinked. She had never seen so much silk, satin, chiffon and cotton. Cliff had taken her into his home, he was giving her a dowry and he was providing her with a wardrobe fit for a princess. “Surely, these fabrics aren't for me?”

“You will have any and all that you like,” Eleanor announced with a smile. “Cliff is well off and we should take him for every penny that we can. He can be such an insensitive lout!”

“He is a great man,” Amanda whispered, somehow meeting Eleanor's eyes.

Eleanor handed the ivory and coral sample to the couturier, touching Amanda's hand. “You are terribly in love with him, aren't you?”

Amanda jerked out of her reverie, flushing. “Of course not! I am so grateful to him for all he has done, for allowing me to stay here in your home, for giving me so much opportunity to better myself.” She meant it. She couldn't go back now. Even if it meant becoming his ward, marrying someone else and settling for his friendship, she wanted to become a lady, at least in appearances, if she somehow could.

“My brother,” Eleanor said slowly, “has a bit of a reputation. He is not the marrying kind—”

“I know!” Amanda managed a wide, bright smile. “I have seen him on the deck of his ships for years, or on the deck of a prize he has taken. I have seen him strolling on the streets of Kingston, and I have watched real ladies making fools of themselves in the hopes of attracting his attention. Everyone in the islands knows Cliff de Warenne.” Even as she spoke, she began to realize that she was not the first woman to fall in love with Cliff de Warenne and find herself rejected. He had probably left a trail of broken hearts all around the world. Now, she would have to ignore her own protesting and wayward heart, as well.

“He is very handsome, very charming and very wealthy. I can imagine how easily a woman could fall for him. But do you know, I have never seen him quite so attentive. His affairs are usually very brief and he has never brought a woman home.”

Amanda hugged herself. She wasn't certain she wanted to have such an intimate discussion with Eleanor O'Neill. “I am not dimwitted enough to be thinking of marriage to your brother, Mrs. O'Neill. In fact, he is right to be arranging a marriage for me. The other choice would be for me to return to the islands, and while I love the sea and I love sailing, I can't go back.”

Eleanor plucked her hand. “You are being so brave!”

They were on safer ground now. “Brave? I am not brave. Bravery is being alone for months on end, uncertain where your next meal is coming from. Bravery is watching your ship come in—and not knowing who is alive and who is dead.”

Eleanor's eyes were huge and Amanda turned away, wishing she hadn't spoken so openly. But it was true. More often than not, Papa's cruises had gone on far longer than planned, and now she could face the truth: he hadn't provided very well for her. In those last months before his death, she had had to fish in the cove, gather mangoes and beg and steal to survive. Once, he had been imprisoned in Cyprus, and he had been gone for over a year. She had been thirteen years old at the time. She had been alone, lonely and afraid. And every time the sloop had crept into the harbor, she had been terrified that Papa would not be on her decks.

There was no decision to make. She desperately wanted the life Cliff was offering her. Maybe the estate he was buying would have a rose garden; if not, she could plant one herself. And while she remained afraid of society, maybe it wouldn't be that bad. After all, Cliff's family was of the highest rank and look at how they had received her. No one had looked down on her, at least, not yet. Maybe the London ton wasn't as bad as the island society. Besides, this was going to be different from wandering Kingston's streets. She hadn't really grasped that until now. She was going to be launched on Cliff's arm while in the midst of his elegant and powerful family.

I can do this
, Amanda thought.
I have to do this!

“No wonder,” Eleanor said softly, “Cliff looks at you the way he does.”

Amanda didn't hear her. She walked over to the bed, Eleanor following. “I only need one dress,” she said slowly. But she took the coral and ivory silk from the bed and held it to her bosom, trembling. It was so pretty, so feminine. Suddenly she wanted it the way she had wanted the nightgown which she had destroyed last night. “Do you think I will be pretty in this?” she asked slowly.

“You will be the most beautiful woman in the room, and Cliff will have trouble controlling his desires, indeed,” Eleanor said with a gleam in her eyes. “And you need a dozen gowns, Amanda. One will never do.”

Amanda could barely believe she would need so many dresses, just as she could barely believe the turn her life was taking. Maybe this was better than becoming Cliff de Warenne's lover. After all, she had never had a secure and safe home of her own. They had struggled to make ends meet at Belle Mer, and there had always been the threat of selling it to pay off their debts.

Papa had lied to her, but he would be so happy for her now. He would want this life for her.