Amanda Scott (25 page)

“Please, Joshua,” she said, taking a hesitant step toward him, “I don’t want to talk about it like this anymore. If you’re angry with me, then say what you have to say or do what you have to do, but don’t—”

“Don’t what, Adriana? Don’t make you think about what you did? Don’t make you see how unbecomingly, how shamefully you behaved? Can you imagine what it was like for me to watch my wife casting out lures to a puppy like Dawlish?”

“No!” she snapped, suddenly as angry as he was. “No, Joshua, I cannot imagine, because I never know what you think. Even when I let him take me to supper, I couldn’t be sure you were angry. You are always the same, always composed, always so certain that everything will be done the way you want it done. Even Lady Adelaide bows to your wishes, does she not? Other people’s wishes, other people’s needs are as nothing to you.”

“That isn’t so, Adriana,” he said quietly.

“It is!” she shouted at him. “Only look at you now. The minute I oppose you, you go all calm and self-possessed. Your face becomes a mask that I, for one, cannot read. I never know what you think about what I do. You expect me to be a mind-reader. If I behaved badly tonight it was because I was angry, too. No, not angry, that’s the wrong word. Frustrated is the right word. Sarah said I was trying to discover what you will tolerate. I think I was trying to discover if you had any feelings to express at all. You behave like some sort of omnipotent ruler at Thunderhill, and you make me feel like your concubine, tossing me an occasional visitor like a bone to—”

“That will do, Adriana.” The chill this time was greater than ever, and it stopped her midsentence, sending the icy shivers racing up and down her spine again. “We will not discuss my behavior at the moment, only yours. If you are not happy with things as they are, we can talk about that tomorrow if you like, on our way back to Thunderhill, but now we will discuss your actions, and we will discuss them thoroughly.” With that, he proceeded to do so, and if the discussion was entirely one-sided in that he no longer paused to demand answers from her, it was nonetheless emotionally annihilating.

As he methodically ticked off point after point—deploring her flirting, her extravagance, her refusal to submit graciously to his commands, her subornation of his servants, her foolhardy association with smugglers—Adriana grew whiter and more wretched. There were tears in her eyes before he was done, but they had no effect upon him. At one point she put up both hands and said in a small, wavering voice, “Don’t, Joshua. Please, don’t say any more.” But that had no more effect than her tears. He continued to shred her character until he could find no more to say. Then, adding only the recommendation that she “think about that for a while,” he turned on his heel and left the room.

She stood where she had stood through it all, feeling unable to move, shaken by his chilly condemnation as she had never been shaken by any of her brother’s or father’s blustering scolds. The tears spilled over at last, coursing down her cheeks, and with a gasping sob, she collapsed onto her bed and let them come, crying until she could cry no more.

When her tears had run dry, she tried to summon anger, even resentment. She tried to tell herself that he had been wrong, that he had deserved what she had done. But his words came echoing back to her, spinning through her mind until she thought she must scream, and she knew that in trying to push him to his limit she had gone too far. She knew, though she despised herself with the knowing, that nearly everything he had said of her was true.

Then, and only then, did she remember that he had said they would return to Thunderhill “tomorrow.” The memory shook her, but she could scarcely blame him for his decision. After the scene she had caused, there wasn’t a tattlemonger in Brighton who would not be in possession of all the distasteful facts by dawn. One of the faces she had seen most clearly when Joshua dragged her from the ballroom had been Sally’s, and already that young lady had achieved a notable reputation as a gossip. “Silence” they called her, and her friendship with Adriana would no more stop her tongue than her even closer friendship with Emily Cowper had stopped her from talking about that young woman. No doubt Joshua would wish to put as much distance between himself and the gossips as he possibly could.

At last, she sat up and blotted her tears, knowing she would have to apologize and knowing, too, that the apology this time must be sincere, not a sop to soothe a gentleman’s temper or to ease tension. Thus, the sooner it was done, the better it would be. Suiting thought to action, she disentangled her headdress from her hair and flung it aside, blew out her flickering lamp, and without taking time to wash her face, went to find him.

When she opened his door, it was dark inside. “Joshua?”

“I’m here.” There was the sound of flint against a tinderbox, then sparks and the glow of cotton, and in a moment the candle on the table by his bed was lit, casting a glow over the little room with its lavender curtains and spread, and its polished floor. Joshua sat on the high bed in his shirt sleeves. He had taken off his coat, waistcoat, neckcloth, and boots, and it was clear from the resulting disarray that Miskin had neither waited up for him nor been awakened.

Now that she was with him Adriana didn’t know how to begin. She picked up his embroidered waistcoat from the floor and put it on a chair, collecting her thoughts, determined not to let him put her out of countenance again.

Joshua said nothing, but he watched her through narrowed eyes. Instead of disconcerting her, this time his silence gave her courage, and finally, blurting the words, she said, “You were right, sir. My behavior has been reprehensible, particularly tonight, but I shall endeavor to do better in the future if you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

He still said nothing, but the hard glint disappeared from his eyes, and taking courage from this sign, she moved to stand before him, clasping his large hands between her smaller ones, looking at him with her heart in her eyes. “Please, Joshua, won’t you help me put this night behind us? I’ll try very hard not to flirt anymore, and I’ll learn all there is to learn about my duties at Thunderhill, and I’ll never associate with smugglers again, and I’ll be as obedient as I know how to be, and—”

“Would you repeat that last part, please?” he asked gently.

“I said—”

“I know what you said.”

To her vast astonishment, she realized he was amused. She stared at him, wide-eyed, then said indignantly, “I meant every word, Joshua. Truly!”

“I believe you,” he said more seriously, pulling her nearer so that she stood between his open thighs. “At least, I suppose you must believe this affecting apology of yours, but I don’t believe for one minute that you will be able to make it good. You can no more stop flirting than you can fly, and I very much doubt that you have the least notion of obedience. The minute someone is foolish enough to give you an order, you set about determining the quickest, most effective means of flouting it.”

“I don’t!”

“You do,” he said, reaching for the diamond fastenings to her robe and beginning slowly to undo them, “and you are, despite what you believe to the contrary, just as accustomed to ordering your life to suit you as I am to ordering mine to suit me. But I shall say no more on that head. Indeed, I have said all I mean to say tonight and probably a deal that I did not mean.”

She looked at him. “Truly, Joshua?”

“I store things up,” he confided, bending his head to kiss her neck. “When I get really angry—which fortunately is a very rare occurrence—I blow up and everything comes out all at once, the large and the small. By then they all seem the same size, and even though the storm nearly always blows over quickly, I have been known to say more than I ought to say.”

“You were very angry with me,” she said softly, drawing her finger provocatively along his jawline. “You frightened me.”

His hand moved inside her robe, caressing the soft breast beneath, making her gasp with pleasure. “You deserved to be frightened, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Did you not?”

She melted against him, encouraging his kisses as she wriggled to free herself from the last folds of her clothing. Clearly, though the worst was over, it was still going to take some time to placate him; however, if she did the job thoroughly, perhaps by morning he would change his mind about returning immediately to Thunderhill.

A
DRIANA DISCOVERED THE ERROR
of her thinking late the following morning when she returned to her own bedchamber to discover Nancy packing her things. Joshua had wakened before her and, according to her abigail, had given orders for their departure at one o’clock. She dressed quickly and went in search of him, finding him in the breakfast parlor, discussing a large underdone beefsteak, grilled kidneys, and potatoes.

Sarah, sitting opposite him, was watching with wonder approaching awe. “Good morning,” she said to Adriana. “I have just suggested to your husband that he ought to arrange for the demise of his breakfast before it comes to table. I shouldn’t be at all amazed to see that animal get up and walk off the plate.”

“Don’t be vulgar,” Adriana said, nodding when the footman preparing her plate indicated a bowl of sliced fruit. “Muffins, too, William,” she said, taking her seat. “Instead of condemning Chalford’s eating habits, Sarah, you ought to help me convince him that it is quite unnecessary for us to return today.”

“I hope,” said the marquess, giving his wife a direct look, “that she won’t try to flog a dead horse. I’ve already explained to her that we must leave soon if we are to catch the tide.”

“But, surely—”

“No, Adriana.” There was an implacable note in his voice that she had come to recognize, but she was feeling unaccountably carefree that morning and would have pressed harder had not a spark of amusement lit his eyes when he added, “’Tis as well we did not make any wagers last night, is it not? You’d be run off your legs mighty soon, sweetheart, if you had to pay a forfeit every time you proved me right.”

She bit her lower lip, then looked up to thank William and to ask him to bring her a pot of tea. When the footman had gone, she grinned at Sarah and said, “I promised to be obedient, and Joshua said I’d never manage to do it. Foolish of me to make his point for him so quickly, was it not?”

“I wish you could both stay with us longer,” Sarah said wistfully. “It won’t be the same without you.”

“Quieter,” murmured Chalford, “no juicy scandal to delight your neighbors and set the tabbies twitching.”

“Oh, fiddlesticks,” Sarah said, laughing. “What scandal? Nothing happened last night that won’t be eclipsed within a day or two by some incident of greater interest. Now, if you had knocked Adriana to the floor instead of poor Mr. Dawlish—”

“Poor Mr. Dawlish!” exclaimed Adriana. “Well, I like that. Let me tell you, Sarah Clifford—”

“The less you say about what passed between you and Dawlish, the better I shall like it,” Joshua said quietly.

She smiled, in charity with him again. “I confess, sir, I hope no one else was close enough to hear what he said to me.” Then, noting the look of interest on Sarah’s expressive face, she said, “You needn’t think I’m going to tell you now, for I won’t. Joshua,” she added, turning abruptly back to him, “if we must return today, can we take Miranda with us? She can be ready in a trice, and she would very much like to go. She does not wish to wait until Christmas, and neither do I.”

“Your brother will never hear of it,” he said.

“Perhaps not, but we shan’t know if we do not invite her.”

“Very well, but don’t be cast into gloom when Alston says she may not come.”

Pleased though she was to find him so reasonable, Adriana had no more expectation than Joshua did that her brother would allow Miranda to escape his protection, so no one was more surprised than she was when at a quarter-past noon, Viscount Alston’s carriage drew up before Clifford House and deposited the Lady Miranda Barrington and her maid upon the doorstep.

“Can you credit it?” demanded Miranda the moment she crossed the threshold. “Nothing was ever more providential. That odious little bounce, Claude Ringwell, has been making the most absurd advances, and dear Alston, having observed his attempt to fondle my backside on the stair this morning, was actually moved to agree that I shall be safer at Thunderhill.”

“And how long,” Sarah asked sweetly, “did you have to wait on the stairway for your victim to present himself?”

Miranda chuckled. “Nearly half an hour, and then I had to shriek like a banshee to be certain Alston would hear me, but he simply erupted from his bookroom, and there was Claude, looking as guilty as a fox with feathers stuck in his whiskers. I thought,” she added sagely, “that you might decide to leave today, so I decided it would behoove me to be ready, just in the event, you know, that you should ask me to go with you.”

“It seems to me,” said Joshua thoughtfully, “that in such a case, Alston would have been more likely to have banished young Ringwell from the house than to have allowed you to leave.”

“Oh, he could not do that,” said Miranda airily. “Sophie, for some reason known only to herself, quite dotes on Claude. Besides,” she added with a wicked grin, “Alston thinks me a paragon at the moment, compared to Dree. I have never sunk so far beneath reproach as he now thinks she has.”

Adriana grimaced and glanced at Joshua, but when he smiled at her, she smiled back, finding it impossible in the face of her sister’s cheerful teasing to be as downcast at leaving Brighton as she had thought she would be. Their return journey aboard the
Sea Dragon
was uneventful, and once they were back at Thunderhill, Adriana had the odd feeling that she had never left it. Almost immediately, the excitement of life in Brighton faded into memory, like a dream, as though she had never gone.

The aunts were there to greet them, Lady Hetta full of news and her sister as stately and awe-inspiring as ever. Adriana, replying to Lady Adelaide’s request for news of some of her friends in Brighton, hoped silently but nonetheless fervently that her ladyship would never know about the voyage on the smugglers’ ship or the incident at the prince’s birthday ball. If Lady Adelaide had heard a word about either one, she did not say so.