A Lady at Last (34 page)

“You seem happy,” he said softly.

“I have never been happier,” she admitted.

“Then I am glad.” His gaze slid over her face briefly, to the edge of her bodice. When it lifted, he smiled again.

Amanda's heart turned over hard.

They did not speak again, and when the music ended, Amanda gazed into his beautiful eyes, wishing for another turn. “Will you give me another dance?” she whispered.

His jaw flexed. “I would love to, but your card is full.” He casually glanced away, then back. “I will take the last dance, Amanda.”

She smiled, relieved.

But then he spoke, his tone odd. “Have there been many suitors while I was gone?”

She tensed. “Yes. Your father made certain of it.”

His glance slid away as he led her from the dance floor. “I must speak with Adare in the morning, then.”

She was shocked. In spite of the intimacy they had been sharing, in spite of his warm, lingering glances, his intentions hadn't changed. He would still marry her off to another. Dismay filled her. But she already knew how easily he could hurt her. That was the price of her love.

She pulled her hand from his. Her intentions hadn't changed either, but of course, he did not know what she planned.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening, Amanda. Maybe we can take dessert together, as well,” he said, formally bowing.

“I will plan on it,” Amanda returned, managing a smile. She stared after him, wishing the dance could have lasted forever, until someone coughed. She turned, realizing a gentleman was awaiting his turn. She somehow curtsied as he bowed, not quite catching his name, and a moment later, she was being escorted back onto the dance floor. As another waltz began, she glanced back at the crowd and saw Cliff staring at her, his gaze hard and bright. She did not know what such a bold and displeased look could signify, other than that he did not care for her current partner. She sighed and gave up trying to comprehend him. It was going to have to be enough that they were friends again.

 

S
EVERAL HOURS LATER
, Amanda stood by herself near a large gilded column, exhausted from so much activity and attention, not to mention the state of her emotions. She had gotten through two-thirds of her card, and she wished it were not full. She doubted she could manage another dozen dances but she would, so she could have one last dance with Cliff.

The dance floor remained crowded. She saw Eleanor in Sean's arms, being whirled about, the two of them looking as besotted as newlyweds. She smiled, trying to imagine what such love must be like, but she quickly gave up. That kind of affection was not going to be a part of her life and she must focus on her future as a respectable lady and an island merchant.

A moment later she saw Cliff on the dance floor and her heart leaped wildly. She would always thrill at the sight of him. He was taller than most of the men in the room, his tawny hair glinting under the lights from the three crystal chandeliers, and he was dancing with Honora Deere, who was crimson and starry-eyed. Amanda smiled, understanding the young lady too well. Even though Honora had been with Jane Cochran that awful day, Amanda was happy Cliff was giving her a dance.

“Miss Carre?” Garret MacLachlan appeared, bowing.

She smiled, not having realized he was at the ball. Her eyes widened. He was clad as a Highlander in a bright blue jacket, a blue, black and red kilt, his knees bare, and blue stockings. He wore a beret, as well, and a ceremonial sword. Amanda curtsied, for he had never been more handsome, but to her surprise, he took her gloved elbow and prevented her from sinking deeply, helping her to rise instead. “My lord.”

His smile was odd. “I ha' been admirin'ye fer some time now, lass. Ye be the most beautiful woman in the room.”

She knew she blushed. “You, sir, are a terrible flirt.”

But he did not smile. “I be speakin' the truth. Amanda,” he said, startling her as they were not on a first name basis, “I ha' come to say g'bye.”

Her eyes widened. “You are leaving?”

“Aye. I ha' been summoned home. Will ye miss me?”

She hesitated. “Of course,” she began, but she did not want to lead him on.

His eyes darkened and he studied her. “Ye love yer guardian,” he finally said. “I watched ye dancin', Amanda. I watched yer eyes.”

Amanda did not know what to say. Then she thought of how Garret had accepted the truth about her life with such steadfast poise and nobility, praising her for her accomplishments instead of scorning her for her past, and she touched his arm. “Yes, I do.”

He slowly shook his head. “Then I wish ye the best, lass.”

“You don't understand.”

“Aye, I ken.”

“No, it's not what you think. I love Cliff and I always will, but he doesn't return my feelings. I am going home, Garret, to the island, and I am never marrying anyone.”

Garret smiled oddly. “I dinna think ye'll get far,” he said.

She started, not certain as to his meaning.

Then he took her hand and kissed it warmly, surprising Amanda. “G'bye, lass.” He bowed briefly and strode off.

Amanda stared after him, as did every woman he passed. She sighed, thinking that she would miss him, for he had become a friend. She did not think she had broken his heart, however. He had never declared his love for her, and she did think him a bit of a rake. She fervently hoped he would one day find someone to love him as he deserved.

“Amanda?” a woman asked, from behind her.

Amanda did not recognize the woman's voice. The intimate form of address was very incorrect. Somewhat taken aback, she turned. And instantly she became rigid.

A very elegant and beautiful blond woman stood there, attired in a magnificent rose satin gown, her diamonds sparkling. Amanda inhaled, feeling as if someone had struck her a brutal blow in her chest.

The woman was blond, green-eyed, beautiful and so oddly familiar. It was almost like looking at herself in the mirror in another decade or two.

Amanda stiffened.

“You know who I am,” Dulcea said, her tone strained, her regard unwavering.

“I know. You are Dulcea Belford,” Amanda said tersely.

Dulcea hesitated. “I am your mother, dear,” she said.

A
MANDA STARED
, trying to breathe with composure. This was her mother—the woman who had dealt her the ultimate blow. The anguish Dulcea had caused, which Amanda had thought successfully vanquished, surged forth, briefly paralyzing her. She had been anticipating this encounter, but she had never dreamed it would be tonight.

“I am your mother,” Dulcea repeated softly. Her regard was intent.

“No,” Amanda finally said, firmly. She held her head high, terribly glad she was wearing the jewelry Cliff had given her and the diamonds, which belonged to the countess. She could not think clearly, perhaps because her heart was racing with such alarming speed. But Amanda knew one thing. She must not allow her mother to ever learn that she had caused her so much grief.

“I have no mother. I have never had a mother. I had a father, but he is dead.” She fought emotions which seemed determined to arise. “Let us not pretend for a single moment that we are mother and daughter.” Amanda pressed back against the wall. “We are not.”

Dulcea gasped. “That is unkind!” But her gaze was moving over Amanda from head to toe. She kept looking up at the diamond and pearl tiara.

It was another moment before Amanda could speak. “No,
Lady Belford
, I believe you are the unkind one.” Amanda told herself to turn and walk away. There need not be any kind of discussion at all. Not far was a billiards room, where ladies and gentlemen were engaged in conversation and games. She could go there and mingle. But she could not make herself walk away, and she began to shake. “I came here after my father's death to find you. It was Papa's dying wish! Do you think I wanted to leave the island? Do you think I ever once believed you would welcome me? But I could not refuse my father. How dare you accuse me of being unkind?”

Finally, Dulcea's stare was unwavering upon Amanda's face. “I was beyond shocked when de Warenne notified me that you were at Harmon House. Amanda, we must discuss this so that you can understand my side, but privately, please. Let's step outside.”

“There is nothing to discuss,” Amanda managed, very close to horrific tears. Why would she wish to cry now? Surely she was beyond the hurt her mother's rejection had caused her. But her feet would not respond to the directions given by her mind and she simply stood there, unmoving, staring and finally taking stock of her mother.

This was the woman who had given birth to her and then so carelessly given her up.
She had finally met Mama; Mama, who had refused to accept her
.

“Don't you want to hear my side?” Dulcea cried, reaching for her hand.

Amanda shrugged, pulling away, but she was shaken. Did she want to hear what her mother had to say?

“This has been a wonderful night for you,” Dulcea said softly, smiling now. “Clearly, you are a great success. I am proud of you, Amanda. So terribly proud.”

Amanda trembled. “No, you're not. This is a pretense! You do not care about me and you never have.” Her mother's words hurt.

“That's not true,” Dulcea gasped. “Of course I care about you! Don't you want to know the truth—the entire truth?”

Amanda hesitated. As dazed as she was, her instincts screamed at her in alarm, telling her to walk away from this woman. This woman still had the power to hurt her the way almost no one else could. But she was leaving England as soon as possible and she would never see Dulcea Belford again. Shouldn't she discover what had happened two months ago—and eighteen years ago? If she did not do so now, she never would.

“Very well.” Amanda gave her a jerky nod, somehow keeping a few shreds of her composure and her dignity about her. They walked down the hall and stepped outside onto a large terrace. A few couples and groups were taking air, but no one paid them any mind.

“When I realized I was with child, Amanda, I was not even seventeen years old. I was terrified,” Dulcea said quietly when they had removed themselves from the couples on the terrace.

Amanda's heart accelerated. She could easily imagine how frightened Dulcea must have been. Dulcea had been even younger than she was when she had conceived. “Did you love my father at all?”

Dulcea smiled. “At that time, yes, I did. He was so dashing and handsome in his naval uniform. He had a charisma, Amanda, one that made many young women turn to look at him as he strutted down the street.”

“He never stopped loving you,” Amanda heard herself say. “But you married Belford.” It was an accusation.

“I was beyond fortunate to marry Belford!” Dulcea cried softly. “Amanda, your father and I knew each other for three weeks and then he set sail. When I realized I was carrying, I didn't know what to do! I was so young, and my mother was already introducing me to gentlemen like Belford, men with small fortunes but old lines and significant titles. As far back as I can recall, I knew that was how I would one day wed. Marriage has nothing to do with love. I am fortunate to have become so fond of Belford.” She paused. “Amanda, we were both so young. It wasn't love, it was passion.” She hesitated and added, “It was what you are feeling for de Warenne.”

Amanda shook her head. “I have never admired anyone the way I admire Cliff. I will freely admit how I feel about him. He is my hero, my champion and I will love him until the day I die.”

Dulcea's eyes widened.

“And Papa loved you that way, or almost that way,” she cried. “He raised me on stories of your great beauty, your grace, your elegance and your kindness. He had you on a pedestal. He made certain I should look up to your memory, as well. God, I feel sorry for my father!”

“I didn't know Carre felt as he did. How could I?” Dulcea retorted. “He never told me! Amanda, I did not come outside to argue with you.”

Amanda blinked in real surprise. Why hadn't Papa said something?

Dulcea sent her a small, rueful smile. “I am not callous or cold, Amanda. I am a flesh-and-blood woman with a heart, a home, a husband and two children. I assumed Carre forgot me. Why would I assume anything else?”

“I don't know,” Amanda said slowly. She told herself not to allow herself to soften toward Dulcea, as she could not trust her. She must not trust her. “You said you cared about me, but it's not true.”
It couldn't be true
, she thought.

“It is true! How could I not care about my own daughter? But you were taken away from me the moment you were born. I was seventeen and not given any choice.”

Amanda refused to believe her. “Don't even try to tell me you would have kept me if you had been given a choice!”

“I wept for days after you were taken away,” Dulcea cried, wiping at her own eyes now. “However, my mother had plans for me to marry well, and I had no intention of defying her. But Amanda, I thought about you frequently and I worried so, especially when I heard Carre had turned pirate.”

Amanda was becoming confused. Dulcea seemed so sincere. But she hadn't really answered her, either. She hadn't said that yes, she would have given up a future with a title to raise her daughter.

“Papa loved me and I loved him. He was a good father. You hardly needed to worry.” She would defend her father always, especially to Dulcea. “If you were so worried, why didn't you write?” she demanded.

“Belford would cast me out if he ever knew about you. I had to keep a safe distance. Surely you understand? My dear, you have had such a difficult life!” Dulcea said. “I am so sorry! I wish it had been different, Amanda. I do.”

Amanda was suddenly furious. “You had a chance to make a difference two months ago, when I came to town. But you did not want me. So you can tell me again and again how you cared and worried, but I will never believe it!”

“Captain de Warenne shocked me when he appeared in my home, announcing that you were in town!”

“He is the one who made all the difference. He rescued me, protected me, provided generously for me, all out of a sense of honor, of nobility. He took me into his
home
. He provided my
dowry
. His family has welcomed me with open arms—unlike you,” she exclaimed. And it became hard to breathe. Her mother had opened a wound she had thought long since healed.

Dulcea's eyes were wide. “I thought Carre provided the dowry.”

“No, Cliff did so, at his own expense.” Of all the things her mother could have responded to, she had chosen the subject of her dowry. “Papa never asked him to be my guardian. That is an utter fabrication on his part. When
you
rejected me,
he
claimed me as his ward out of the goodness of his heart.
He
provided my dowry when he did not have to do so, because
he
swore he would secure my future.” Dulcea had not done any of those things.

Dulcea's chin lifted. “Is he sleeping with you?”

Amanda backed up, shaking her head in denial, but she felt her cheeks warm. “Our relationship is not your affair,” she managed. “I am not your affair.” Tears were somehow seeping. “He would never behave so dishonorably!”

“He hasn't tried to seduce you?” Dulcea asked, her regard intent and unwavering.

“No, I tried to seduce him,” Amanda said defiantly. But she was uneasy. She sensed some greater purpose on her mother's part now. It was as if lie upon lie was being told.

They stared.

“My poor darling,” Dulcea said, taking her hand.

Amanda flinched, wide-eyed. She pulled her hand away. “Don't you dare offer me sympathy now.”

“I am your mother! You refuse to believe me and I cannot help that, but I know what it is like to fall hopelessly in love. No one will ever blame you for falling for Cliff de Warenne. Half the women in this room would give almost anything, including their reputations, to be his latest paramour. I understand, darling. I do.”

Amanda shook her head. “I have to go.” Nothing had been resolved, she realized. She wished she could believe Dulcea, but she did not.

“Wait!” Dulcea's tone cracked like a whip. “I went to Harmon House recently to see you. I begged de Warenne to allow me to claim you as a cousin, to help him find you a husband. I asked that you come live with me. Not only did he refuse my pleas, he would not let me see you!”

Amanda was shocked. She began shaking her head. “No. I don't believe you! Cliff would never do such a thing! And if he turned you away, he did it for a good reason.”

“Why on earth would I lie?” she cried. “Ask your doormen. I came to see you, to become a part of your life, and he refused me!”

Amanda knew one thing. Cliff might not love her the way she loved him, but he would move heaven and earth to do what was best for her. “There is no one I trust more than Cliff. If he sent you away, it is because he knows you are a liar. Why? Why are you making such an effort to convince me that you care? What could you possibly want?”

“I am telling you how much I want to be your mother. I am telling you how much I miss you. I want you to come live with me at Belford House.”

Amanda had to seize the terrace railing to remain standing.
“What?”

“We will say you are my cousin, a distant one, and I will find you a husband, Amanda. It is my duty to do so.” She smiled.

Amanda was reeling. “I am going home!” she cried. “I am going back to the island and I am not marrying anyone.”

Dulcea gasped. “What are you saying? You cannot possibly think to go back to your pirate way. Your life is here now, with me!”

Amanda stiffened. “I am not a pirate, Mother, or didn't you notice? These pearls belong to
me.
This dress is
mine
. My dance card was
full
tonight. In fact, I have been told I am a beautiful
lady
, many times.”

“Darling.” Dulcea took her hands. “I did not mean to insult you. This will be our chance to get to know one another, to become a family. Once you are wed, I fear it will be too late, and I should like to help you find the right husband.”

Amanda began to laugh, as it was absurd. Her mother wished for her to move to Belford House now? She felt certain Dulcea wanted something, but it was not her daughter's happiness. “It's too late. I do not want to know you. I am going back to Jamaica, and I am starting a business there. I am giving Cliff his dowry back.”

Dulcea turned white. “That is utterly foolish! I cannot allow you to go to that island at such a tender age. Your future is here, with me and with a husband and home of your own. My God, Amanda, do you not realize how fortunate you are to have a dowry like the one de Warenne has given you? Without it, you have no chance to wed! With it, you will live modestly, but well!”

Amanda pulled away. “Why are you doing this? What do you want? I have told you twice I am not marrying.”

Dulcea's gaze was wide and hard. “It's de Warenne, isn't it?”

Cliff's image seared Amanda's mind. What she desperately wanted, she could not ever have. “Yes, you are finally right. This is about Cliff. But it is also about me. I want to become an independent woman,” she said quietly, with pride. “And the truth of the matter is that I cannot and will not marry another man.”