A Priceless Gift: A Regency Romance (15 page)

“Well, since you offer . . .”

His exhaustion was soon overcome, and they proceeded to lesson two and three before dinnertime. Then they had a small argument—should they get washed and dressed and dine with Mattie, or send their excuses and stay in bed?

Although their sport had given them a healthy appetite, in the end they remained where they were. Real life could wait a while as Amanda discovered for herself why her cousin referred to lovemaking as
bliss
.

It turned out Mattie had not exaggerated after all.

Lucian had not been lying to Amanda—making love to his young wife was truly unlike his dalliances with those legions of women he’d bedded in his dissolute past. He was lucky, indeed, that he was still healthy and of sound mind. Almost certainly he owed his continued vigour to the sheaths he’d consistently employed, since he did not want to sow bastards across the countryside.

He did not blame Amanda for doubting his promises. If one of Lucian’s friends had made similar protestations, his reaction would have been cynical. He’d argue that sooner or later the weight of old habits would overcome the best intentions, no matter how sincerely meant at the time. After he stopped laughing, that is. As a diplomat and man about town, he had acquired a deep appreciation of human frailty and self-deception.

Nonetheless, Lucian rather thought he would be able to remain true to his wife as long as Amanda did not meet some younger man who turned her pretty head. He was not hankering after any other women at present, not even mentally. If the most celebrated beauties in London were to appear on his doorstep, he’d be able to rebuff them without a qualm.

Neither he nor Amanda had made any mawkish declarations of love, as were the fashion amongst the more sentimental middle classes, but there was a mutual affection there, strengthening every day, at least on his side. As for Amanda, if she still despised or resented him, she would not be able to give herself as generously and enthusiastically as she had since that first afternoon tryst. Words might be false, but Lucian was too experienced at the game of love to be mistaken in the language of a woman’s body.

What they were slowly establishing was more than friendship, but he could not find a proper word for it.
Marriage
was not enough;
affection
did not quite capture it either. But why worry about putting it in words? They simply were good together, both in and out of bed.

Lucian would have to risk Amanda finding someone else, for he needed to return to town by the end of January at the latest. There were important matters coming up in the House that he could not ignore. At least that Russian business was all finished. Lord Cathcart had already accepted the appointment as the new ambassador the czar’s court. Lucian would not get involved in the mess brewing with the United States, no matter who asked, even if it was the prince regent.

Perhaps in later years, when this interminable war was over and their children grown, he too might accept an embassy in some civilised capital, if Amanda liked the notion. She would make a good diplomatic wife. Despite her current youth and relative inexperience, she had a good head on her shoulders and great resilience. It no longer felt awkward to treat her as an equal or to hear her address him by his given name. In an odd but pleasant way, her doing so made
him
feel younger, less jaded. Maybe some of Amanda’s virtue was rubbing off on him, though he had his doubts how much would stick. Lucian still considered the great majority of his contemporaries arrant fools, sheep only too eager to present themselves for shearing, and willing to believe the most convenient fairy tale that flattered their vanity and prejudices. As she grew older, Amanda would learn to see that, too.

Soon the babes should be strong enough for the journey to town. They were thriving, but at such a tender age, that could change within hours. At any age, really. Amanda would be unwilling to leave them behind, and Lucian was determined to carry Amanda back to town with him, babes and nurses and companion and all.

He would check on the twins himself and consult the head nurse, to gauge at what point the journey might be feasible.

At first he had regarded the babes as an extension of Amanda, but within days, despite their newness and fragility, he had come to appreciate that Marcus and Mary each had a separate personality and will. When they were older, he would not mind spoiling the little ones, and it would be easy enough to be a better father than the one he’d had. He was less sure that he’d be able to set a good example, but he’d worry about that once they were past the dangerous first twelve months.

Lucian almost regretted that he could not believe in heaven or hell. How his late father would have raged if he knew his title and position was to be taken by a boy with not one drop of Rackington blood! Serve him right . . . Lucian himself did not care a whit. Birth and titles were a lottery. Some were born lucky, and some drew blanks, that was all there was to it.

***

Christmas at Racking was a far more elaborate affair than Amanda was used to. In previous years, Lucian had never been in residence at that time of year, and the servants were excited at having the family in residence for the traditional twelve days of festivities, even if the children were still too tiny to enjoy them.

Despite a newfound taste for love-making that Lucian indulged whenever she sent him as much as a heated look, Amanda did not neglect her twins. She spent an hour with them twice daily, talking and touching them, so they would know and remember her as their mother. Lucian joined her occasionally, and once or twice she even found him visiting the nursery on his own, to the nurses’ surprise.

Now that the children had survived their first month, and grown surprisingly fast for just a few weeks, her fear for their lives was slowly abating. Life was always uncertain, after all. Even an adult like Lucian or herself could sicken and die from one day to the next.

When she announced her plans to attend Christmas Mass in the nearby village church, Lucian looked resigned. “I suppose I’ll have to go with you,” he said. “They will stare at me as though the devil himself had recanted. I hope it will not be too annoying.”

“I could just go with Mattie and Mr. Tennant.”

“No, if you want to go, I’ll accompany you. If a lightning bolt does not strike me dead as I cross the threshold, maybe it will even do me some good.”

“Thank you.” Amanda gave him a small kiss. She was not particularly religious and did not attend church every week, but it felt wrong to ignore major holidays like Christmas and Easter.

“There are a number of customs, the Yule Log, holly, Christmas
pudding, carols . . . we should practice for the time when the children are old enough to enjoy them,” Amanda suggested. “Christmas always was a joyful time in my family.” She smiled so Lucian should not think she was less happy now.

“For me, it has been a solitary occasion in most years, at least since I was sent to school at nine years of age.”

That remark spurred Amanda’s efforts to make Lucian enjoy the holidays for possibly the first time in years. It would not be easy to replace the horrible memories that Racking held for him, but she would give it her best.

“You look happy,” Mattie commented as the two of them were decorating the entrance hall with freshly cut holly and broad bows fashioned from strips of discarded satin curtains. Mattie had deemed the bright red colour too garish for a guest bedroom, but was just right for Christmas decorations. “I will not ask for the reasons, but I have my suspicions. After all the bad things I had heard of your husband, I am agreeably surprised to find him so human and approachable. And the greatest surprise is how devoted he seems to you. I would not have thought it possible, if I did not see the evidence daily with my own eyes.”

“I suspect Lucian can be a formidable and ruthless enemy when he deems it necessary,” Amanda said thoughtfully. “He is wonderful to me but freely admits that his black reputation is not unmerited.”

“Then I recommend that you enjoy this period of harmony while it lasts.”

Amanda frowned. Mattie only echoed her own doubts, but to agree with her would be chicken-hearted and disloyal. She opted to change the subject instead. “Mr. Tennant will arrive tonight. It may be significant that he chose to spend the holidays here with us, rather than with his aged parents and numerous siblings in Chiswick.”

“We should not read anything into that,” Mattie said. “He may simply prefer space and quiet to the noise of a large family and constant questions about his life and plans. In cramped surroundings, such large family gatherings require iron nerve and great patience. Sometimes they even lead to arguments and permanent estrangements.”

“I prefer to believe that he comes to spend Christmas with us because he likes you, Mattie.”

A slight flush infused her cousin’s cheeks, easily visible to Amanda’s sharp eye.

“I wish you a happy and
bliss
ful Christmas, Mattie.”

The blush increased.

Amanda remembered the old recipe book four days after Christmas, when the assistant cook spilled a kettle full of boiling water on her forearm. There had been a recipe for burns in there . . . to her relief, it proved to be one of the few which did not include animal parts of any kind and was relatively easy to concoct of common plants, oils, and beeswax. She mixed the salve in the kitchen, with the assistance of the frazzled head cook, and offered it to the suffering servant without guarantees, as an old family recipe she wanted to try out.

“That salve of yours worked like a charm, my lady,” the butler reported to Amanda two days later as she was having breakfast with Mattie and Tennant. Lucian had ridden out earlier, to inspect a tenant’s wind-damaged roof. “Essie Jackson will be able to go resume work tomorrow, and best of all, it seems there will be hardly any scarring. Cook is already mixing up another, larger batch of the salve to have ready for similar accidents.”

“Good,” Amanda said. So at least one recipe from the collection was effective. According to the hand-written annotations, so were two of the others. Despite its origin the book was not an intrinsically evil object and
could
be used for good. She’d pack it in her trunk and take it to London when they moved in late January. Just in case.

“I did not know you were an expert on remedies,” Mattie commented.

Tennant smiled. “Lady Rackington has unsuspected depths. For my part I am not surprised.”

Amanda returned his smile. “Have you fully recovered, Mr. Tennant, after the revels of New Year’s Eve? I wonder what new shocks this year will bring. 1811 was already too full of surprises for my taste.”

“But it ended well for you,” Mattie said, a little wistfully. “You began it as a simple country girl and ended it as a countess, mistress of several establishments, and mother of twins. It must surely remain the most significant year of your entire life.”

“I was very lucky,” Amanda said. And so she was, thanks to Lucian; the previous year could so easily have been the end of her.

Inwardly, she was trying to remember the ingredients for that salve against freckles. The cook could make it up for her; she only had to give the order. But no, that one called for a macerated bat’s wing. Though Amanda was not fond of the ghostly little creatures, she would not be responsible for such barbarity.

“We have some news for you,” Mattie began, a trifle nervously, recalling Amanda’s attention to the present and her company.

The pronoun already told the tale, but she pretended ignorance. “Good news, I hope?”

“The very best,” Tennant said. “Mattie has done me the very great honour to accept my proposal. We plan to be married in May.”

“Oh, excellent, congratulations!” Amanda did her best to feign surprise. “I am sure you’ll be very happy together.”

“We already are.” Mattie sent Tennant a smile that told Amanda she had also embarked on the affair she had been planning and was more than satisfied with his attentions. Now that Amanda was a well-pleasured, experienced married woman, she recognized the symptoms.

“Good for you,” she said heartily. “This is a season for
bliss
, after all.”

Mattie grinned and nodded, but poor Tennant blushed and nearly swallowed his tea the wrong way.

“Don’t mind us,” Amanda told him kindly. “Be glad if you can find mutual pleasure. I understand that not all couples can.”

“I thought you strongly disapproved of discussing such subjects at the table, Amanda,” Mattie reminded her.

“Under my husband’s influence, I find myself becoming more broad-minded and tolerant by the day. Seriously, now, I am very happy for both of you. Have you told Sigurd yet?”

“Yes,” Mattie said, “early this morning. He is overjoyed that he’ll soon have a papa of his own, since of course he does not remember poor Luke at all.”

“We shall look for a suitable residence in London, not too far from your house,” Tennant explained. “For the time being I shall continue in my position, but I have been hankering after a political career, and the earl has promised to support me. Are you aware that he has two seats in the lower House in his gift, Lady Rackington? One of the incumbents will retire soon, and I am to have his place.”

“So you’ll be a member of parliament? You are doing very well for yourself, Mattie.”

“So I think,” Mattie said with a warm smile at her fiancé.

“Indeed, it was your husband’s generosity that emboldened me to ask for Mattie’s hand,” Tennant declared. “He guessed I was worried about supporting her in proper style and proposed this solution of his own accord. I had been hoping, but would not have ventured to put myself forth as a candidate.”

“As a politician, you’ll have to overcome such reticence and bashfulness,” Amanda said. “Tell yourself you are doing it for Mattie and your children when you need to put yourself forward in future.”

“I could leap mountains with such a motive, indeed, or take on giants.” Tennant’s expression was so devout that Amanda had trouble remaining serious. His next words chased away her inward hilarity. “A man in love will dare anything for his beloved.”

So there were men who did not hesitate to openly declare their feelings, their
love
. For a moment, Amanda felt absurdly envious.

But what she and Lucian had would have to do. If he could remain true to her, after sleeping his way across the Continent, perhaps he was already closer to love than friendship? Might he one day realise it, say it out loud? No, Lucian was far too worldly and saturnine to permit himself such vulnerability.

If one of them were to confess to love, it would have to be her. But Amanda was not so stupid as to plunge into feelings that could destroy her when this halcyon period came to its inevitable end. She would keep the innermost part of her heart safe, for her own and her children’s sake. Love was dangerous. She was better off without it.

“You have gone silent,” Mattie charged. “Still wrestling with surprise?”

“No, Mattie, I am merely wondering what I’m to give you as a wedding present.”

“I’m not particular. When I have the love of a good man, all the rest becomes insignificant.”

Amanda nodded, forcing her features into a smile. For some reason, her throat felt too tight to speak.

Once she had recovered her voice, she said lightly, “I hope you will still be able to help with my activities in town, Mattie, perhaps a few hours now and then, even when you are married and have your own household?”

“If you mean for the ball you are planning, just try to keep me away! Besides, it will take place before our wedding anyway,” Mattie declared. “I am eagerly looking forward to my part in organizing such a grand affair, and I want to dance there with John.”

“I may also need you to be committee secretary for whatever charity project I select,” Amanda said. “Rescuing abandoned children, perhaps.”

“That is far trickier and harder than you probably imagine,” Tennant warned. “Worthwhile, no doubt, and I’m sure that the earl will put a budget at your disposal so you won’t have to touch your pin money. Such benevolent activities can only improve his reputation and yours. But don’t attempt it without studying what others have done, and how; otherwise, you will discover all the same pitfalls on your own.”

“Improving the family’s reputation is
not
why I’m anxious to do some good,” Amanda said. She doubted that her charities would make much of a dent in Lucian’s reputation as a Don Juan anyway. One had nothing to do with the other.

Mattie inclined her head sceptically. “Of course I am willing to support your charitable ventures, but I’m not at all sure you should get personally involved in such a scheme. You must be very careful not to bring some contagious disease back to your own infants. At the very least, you ought to leave the selection of indigent children to others.”

Amanda had not considered that aspect. She wanted to protest, but the merest hint of danger to her frail babes gave her pause. “I’ll think on it,” she said reluctantly. “Certainly the welfare of my own children must outweigh any other consideration. And you have little Sigurd to think of.” Surely not all abandoned children were sick with contagious diseases? She could still meet them once they had been taken in and were pronounced healthy.

“Have you heard from your family?” Mattie asked. Amanda had confided in her that she had invited Eve to attend her ball in London and stay for a few months during the Season.

“No,” she admitted. “But remember, we haven’t even set the date for our ball, and it will be a long journey for Eve from Northumberland, if she is allowed to come. Father will probably be in favour, but my mother has taken an unaccountable dislike to Lucian. She was not even at our wedding.” That was the story she had told Mattie to gloss over the true reasons for their estrangement.

“I am surprised, considering what a brilliant match it is. Most mothers would swallow their qualms and put their best face on it, especially once the wedding was a
fait accompli
,” Mattie commented.

“She does not easily budge from a strongly held position,” Amanda said with a little sigh. “But I have by no means given up on my plan. If Eve is not allowed to attend my first ball, she may still come and visit later, perhaps over the next summer.” As much as she had come to like Mattie and rely on her cheerful practicality, she missed her favourite sister. Letters were simply not the same.

As they discussed the plans for Mattie’s wedding, the butler presented a letter to Amanda on a silver tray. She did not recognise the handwriting.

“This may be the news you were hoping for, that Eve will come to visit,” Mattie said optimistically. “Do read it at once; don’t mind us.”

Amanda slit the folded page open with a small fruit knife while the happy couple was looking at each other, wreathed in smiles. Her own expression congealed when she saw the signature. The letter was from her aunt Regina, the wife of her evil uncle Roderick.

Dear Niece,

It is perhaps not surprising that we have not had word of you in recent months, considering the high station to which your marriage has elevated you. Allow me to offer belated felicitations on your marriage and the birth of your children.

Amanda’s hand clenched on the letter, creasing the paper. Her aunt had no idea how those children came into the world, she reminded herself. As far as she could know, Amanda was merely her husband’s niece, who had married fortuitously well.

I have read in the society pages of my newspaper that you will be spending the forthcoming Season in London and, after your presentation at court, are expected to take your place among London’s fashionable hostesses.

It was news to Amanda that gossip columns would mention her, but given her husband’s position and wealth, and the suddenness of their match, perhaps it was not surprising.

We shall also be in town from the end of February, so that your cousin Doris might meet with other young people and acquire some town bronze. Your mother and your sister Eve will be joining us in the house we are taking for the Season. I would appreciate if you could include both girls in any entertainments you might be giving or attending among your new acquaintances. I shall send you the direction where we shall be staying as soon as I know it myself. Your uncle is even now in town looking at houses and will hire the most suitable to be had.

Her uncle. And Eve. In the same house. Amanda
was seized with
such anger that she trembled, and had to bite down hard so that nothing indiscreet spilled out of her mouth. That was a catastrophe in the making. What was her mule-headed, idiotic mother thinking? To expose her second and far prettier child to that middle-aged predator, knowing how close he had come to ruining Amanda’s life?

“You don’t look pleased,” Mattie said. “Not ill news, I hope?”

Amanda pulled herself together with an effort. “No, not at all. The letter is from my aunt by marriage, Lady Budleigh, with whom I spent some weeks last year. She tells me that they will be in London for the Season with my cousin Doris and that my mother and Eve will be staying with them. She asks to be included in any fashionable entertainments I might give or take them to others as my guests, I suppose.”

“Perfectly natural,” Tennant observed. “Any ambitious mother related to a countess, no matter how remotely, would be foolish not to call upon her help on the marriage mart. The two girls will enjoy your ball. Are they pretty?”

“Eve is the beauty of our family, and my cousin Doris is by no means ugly or stupid. Their portions are modest, but with fine clothes, they should not lack for partners.”

Inwardly Amanda was still reeling. Had her father given his consent to this foolhardy scheme? Could she prevent it somehow? What should she do?

Perhaps it was time to hunt for spiders in the attic.