Amethyst (13 page)

"I RETURNED TO TAKE
her to Dover and put her on a ship, and damn it, that's what I'm going to do!"

After three days spent weeping, thinking and healing, Amy had approached Kendra that very afternoon and shyly asked about joining the family for the evening meal. She'd been certain she felt ready for some human interaction.

Now that Colin was home, and she wasn't so sure.

In the corridor outside the drawing room, she stood frozen in place, listening. The Chases made an incredible racket. Amy and her parents had rarely shouted at one another, but this family seemed to use shouting as their main mode of communication. Even when they'd discussed her at her bedside, she reflected, they'd shouted in whispers.

Tonight, they were none so circumspect.

"I promised her, Colin!" she heard Kendra wail. "I promised she could stay here until she's ready."

"Ready? What the hell is that supposed to mean? She's awake, she's ready."

"I'm not quite certain she's awake," another male voice put in, with more than a little amusement. "She's been wandering around like a ghost."

Amy winced. Was that what they thought of her?

"She has not!" Kendra leapt to Amy's defense. "Her father just died, for God's sake. I promised her."

"A pox on your promises! I need to get back to Greystone. I needed to be there a week ago."

"Jason?" By the tone of Kendra's voice, Amy imagined her looking toward her brother beseechingly.

"A Chase promise is not given lightly." Jason, the voice of reason.

"A pox on you, too!"

"I agree with them, Colin. Promises aside, she's in no state for travel." So Ford was on her side as well.

"A pox on all three of you! I don't care who agrees with whom. I brought her here, and I'll take her away when I damn well please."

"I promised her!"

"You sound like one of those newfangled cuckoo clocks, Kendra. 'I promised her, I promised her, I promised her.' Well, cuckoo all you want; I'm not changing my mind. We're leaving come morning. Where is she? You said she was coming to supper."

Amy took a step back down the corridor.

"Your arrival probably scared her into the next county!" Kendra yelled.

"You're both acting like children!" Amy heard Jason shout while she steadily backed away from the room. "Colin, this is out of your hands. Go to Greystone in the morning. Ford or I will arrange for Mrs. Goldsmith's travel when she's ready. Kendra, go fetch her. We'll meet you in the dining room in half an hour."

Amy fled up the stairs to her chamber and was sitting primly on the edge of her bed when Kendra arrived.

Her friend stood in the doorway, frowning. "It's almost time for supper. You're…not planning to wear that gown, are you?"

Amy looked down to her skirts. The lavender dress had been laundered and pressed while she slept, but there were a few tiny holes where embers had landed, and little gray spots where the soot had stained it permanently. She'd worn it three days straight already.

Her face burned. "I haven't another," she said to her lap.

"Wait here a moment." Kendra started to leave, then reappeared in the doorway. "Oh, Colin is back." She disappeared again, yelling "Jane!" as she went.

Wondering what Kendra was up to, Amy ran her hand down the gilt bedpost beside her for what seemed like the millionth time since she'd awakened in this beautiful room a few days ago. It wasn't the costliness of the gold that stole her breath, for gold was so soft and pliable that she could hammer a single ounce into a hundred square feet of gold leaf. But she thought the intricately carved bed looked like nothing so much as a gigantic, exquisite piece of jewelry, and—with a fresh stab of grief—she wished she could show it to her father.

All of the room's furnishings were gilt, marble, or golden brocade. Amy felt like she was living in Queen Catharine's bedchamber.

A floral fragrance suffused the air. She shuffled her smoke-damaged shoes where they rested on a plush patterned carpet of brown, cream and gold. At home, the floors had been polished wood. Her family had owned two precious Oriental carpets, but the larger one had adorned a wall, the smaller, a table. Before arriving at Cainewood, she'd never considered actually
walking
on anything so expensive as a carpet.

Kendra came back leading Jane, a plain-faced young maid with a kind smile and an armful of dresses. Kendra grabbed a yellow one from the pile and held it up to Amy's cheek. "No, too sallow," she muttered, tossing it aside. The next was peach. "Too pale." Jane handed her another, a burgundy satin. "Perfect," Kendra declared.

Before Amy could protest, her gown was removed and Kendra's dropped over her head. A rose scent wafted from the fabric. Wiggling into the dress, she inhaled deeply of the luxurious fragrance, thinking the Chases lived a different life indeed.

It wasn't
her
life, though. Her life would never feel complete without the joy of working with gold and jewels to create lasting bits of beauty.

Jane laced up the bodice, attached the stomacher, tucked up the skirt to reveal a shell-pink underskirt. She plucked Amy's chemise through the slashed sleeves, which were caught together at intervals with pink ribbons. Then she seated Amy before the oval gilt-framed mirror and started fussing with her hair.

"I cannot figure out how to plait it properly." Amy tugged up her lace-edged chemise to fill in the gown's low neckline. "Our maid used to entwine ribbons somehow."

"Oh, curls are the fashion now." Kendra waved a hand. "Have you decided what you're going to do?"

What
was
she going to do? She stared at her reflection. Without her father to force the issue, the one thing she
wouldn't
do was marry Robert Stanley. She would have to write soon to tell him so.

"I'm not sure." She sat very still as Jane wielded a hot curling iron. "Go to Paris, I suppose, where my aunt and uncle have a jewelry shop." She toyed with a bottle on the marble-topped dressing table. "I promised my father I'd never give up my craft…and jewelry is my life. I know no other."

"Well, you needn't leave until you feel ready.
I
promised you that."

"Thank you." Her eyes met Kendra's in the looking glass. "You're a good friend."

Jane tied a pink ribbon in Amy's hair and stepped back to view her handiwork. "What do you think?" She reached out and tweaked a curl.

"Beautiful," Kendra said.

Amy gazed at her reflection, touching a finger to her lips. The lips Colin had kissed. Maybe, just maybe, she would find a man—another jeweler—in France. A jeweler who could make her heart beat like Colin Chase did.

"No time for cosmetics," Kendra said with a sigh. "We're late already."

"WHERE ARE THEY
all?" Ford poured himself a second goblet of wine. "Kendra and Amy I can credit—women always take forever to ready themselves. But Colin—"

"Speaking of Colin…" Jason drummed his fingers on the mahogany tabletop. "I think Kendra is scheming to match him with Amethyst Goldsmith."

"Huh?" Ford shook his head. "Whyever would Kendra do that?"

"Damned if I know. Mrs. Goldsmith has nothing to offer monetarily. It's debatable whether a well-to-do merchant could match Greystone's needs, and now her family's shop has burned to the ground, rendering the question pointless."

Ford sipped. "The wench is a rare beauty."

"What the hell has that got to do with it?" Jason lifted his goblet. "I know Priscilla doesn't top Kendra's list of favorite people, but for her to push this match—" He stopped and took a quick swallow of wine. "Colin, there you are."

"Did you find the children's families?" Ford asked.

"Yes—and no." Colin took his seat. "It seems the littlest one, Mary, is an orphan. Her parents both died in the plague. Neighbors had taken her in, but now that they're homeless…" He shrugged. "I brought her back with me."

Jason's goblet hit the table with a
clunk
. "You cannot be planning to keep her?"

"Priscilla would never put up with it," Ford put in.

Colin flashed him a scathing glance. "No, I'm not planning to keep her." He turned to Jason. "I was hoping you could find her a home in the village."

"I expect I can." Jason's hand came up and stroked his mustache, his eyes thoughtful. "But couldn't you have sent her to a foundling home in London?"

"I could have, I suppose." Colin leaned for the wine decanter. "The authorities are handling such problems. But I hadn't the heart to leave her in such chaos. Moorfields is a sad scene. The grass is littered with rescued belongings that people are wary of relinquishing, interspersed with ashes—"

When Kendra and Amy walked in, Colin paused midsentence and stared.

Jason cleared his throat and kicked his brother under the table. "Colin?"

"Um, yes." Colin's hand dropped, and the wine decanter thudded to the mahogany surface. He blinked and came back to life. "Good evening, Amy."

"Good evening," Amy murmured, not quite looking at him.

"Won't you sit down?" Jason waved his hand, and a servant began ladling soup while two others pulled out ladder-backed chairs on either side of the rectangular table, at the end where the Chase men had seated themselves.

Kendra craftily slipped into the chair beside her twin, leaving Amy no choice but to sit next to Colin. As she seated herself, Colin gave her a gentle smile and briefly touched a hand to her arm.

In the guise of reaching for a piece of cake, Kendra leaned close to Jason. "A current flows between the two of them," she whispered in his ear. "You'd have to be addlepated not to notice."

"I heard that," Colin warned.

Amy only looked dazed.

"Colin was just telling us about returning the children to their families," Ford said a little too brightly. "Sounds as though it was a hellish mess out there."

"It's getting organized somewhat," Colin disagreed, putting down his spoon. "Charles has arranged for public buildings to store the goods of the homeless, and provided army tents and bread, all without charge. It was impossible to get about to find anyone, but they've set up a missing persons area. I waited there until all the children were claimed—all except Mary, that is."

A frown appeared between Kendra's brows. "The little girl with the golden curls and the never-ending questions?"

He nodded. "And the big blue eyes." Eyes that were as sad as Amy's looked now. "I brought her back with me. If I had a shilling for every question she asked on the way here, I'd be able to restore Greystone tomorrow."

Kendra smiled. "And our town house?" She spooned a bite of cake into her mouth; Kendra always ate dessert first, claiming she might not have room for it later.

"The town house is safe—Lincoln's Inn Fields was never in danger. The fire stopped short of Chancery Lane and Essex House. The burned parts smolder so hotly, though, no man would venture in. The first rain started this afternoon, though—I reckon that will help."

"It rained for but a few minutes." Kendra glanced out the diamond-paned windows. "I shouldn't think it would help much."

"Perchance it rained more in London." Colin shrugged. "Though with all the homeless, perhaps we should hope not…"

His mind wandered, and his words trailed off. A rose scent drifted over from Amy's direction. It was difficult to concentrate with her so near.

Having left her grief stricken and sleeping, he'd been shocked when the old Amy entered the dining room. No, not the old Amy exactly. This Amy was subdued instead of animated. She was sort of a Kendra-ized Amy, wearing a dress he recognized as Kendra's, her hair coaxed into long Kendra-like ringlets.

But he felt the same pull toward her nonetheless. The gown, which had never looked quite right on Kendra, was magnificent on Amy. While it was perhaps an inch too short and a bit tight across the bosom, the deep burgundy color suited her perfectly. Despite the obvious touches of Kendra, the conspicuous lack of jewelry separated her most from the old Amy. That, and her reserve. She seemed to be eating in a trance-like state.

He wanted to fold her into his arms and coax the sparkle back into her eyes.

"And Charles?" asked Ford.

If Colin inched his chair to the right, perhaps he could brush up against her arm.

No, too obvious.

Maybe he could just move his foot under the table…

Ford banged down his goblet. "Colin? How is the king holding up?"

Jason kicked Colin again.

"Ouch!" Colin blinked. What had Ford been asking about? "Oh, Charles. Od's fish, he's in his glory. He hadn't much time to chat, though."

He leaned to rub his ankle, deciding he'd deserved the kick. What was it about this woman that made him focus on her to the neglect of everyone else? Why did he always think about touching her?

Thank God he was leaving for Greystone in the morning.

Before he turned into a complete animal.