Danice Allen (41 page)

He kicked away the covers, then lowered her again. Her splayed thighs came down around his bare flanks, his erection pressed against her stomach. She pushed herself to a sitting position with her hands on his chest and stared down at him, softly panting.

She held his hot gaze as she undid what buttons remained fastened of his shirt, then parted the white material. Now she looked down. His torso was magnificent … fluid with muscle. She explored the length of him from chest to belly, her fingers tracing the fine, silky hair down the cleft of his abdomen to where it spread out coarsely. Then she wrapped her fingers around his erection. He was so hot, so firm. They both groaned together.

“I think it’s time, Amanda.”

She nodded eagerly.

He grinned. “Do you want to ride me, love?”

“R-ride you, Jack?”

“For the whole race, sweetheart. Over every stone fence and bubbling brook, right down the home stretch to the finish line.”

Amanda finally understood that Jack was making an analogy…. So, if she was the rider and he was the horse—Her eyes opened wide as she caught the vision.

“Yes, Jack,” she said, hoping she wouldn’t expose her ignorance. “Let’s … let’s race.”

He laughed and pulled her down for a quick, hard kiss. Sitting upright again, Amanda hoped Jack would show her what to do, how to mount, so to speak, because she didn’t have a clue how it was done.

“Lift up a little, love,” he said, and she obeyed. He positioned himself, then ordered, “Now, Amanda. Easy does it…”

As Amanda lowered herself, she watched Jack’s face. His jaw tensed and his eyes fluttered shut as he slid slowly into her. Then she, too, closed her eyes and savored the bliss of their joining.

At first her movements were tentative and awkward, but soon she caught the right rhythm, found the right angle. Jack let her set the pace, and the ride was long and filled with building intensity. The urgency in Amanda’s womb increased with each thrust, and she braced her splayed hands on his hard chest and pressed her thighs tightly against his hips.

She whispered his name over and over again as they soared higher and higher on a crest of pure pleasure. He, too, chanted her name like a benediction.

Then came the explosion of senses Amanda remembered from before. She tensed and arched. Jack curved forward, caught her in his arms, and heart to fiercely beating heart, they found their release.

Later, curled together in the bed, they held each other tenderly. No words were spoken. The love between them was understood and deeply felt. Sated, they sank into sweet, dreamless sleep.

Chapter 21

When Jack woke up, he thought at first he must still be asleep and dreaming. He was lying on his side, completely naked, his arms wrapped around the ribs of a sleeping female who was also naked. His nose was buried in her fragrant hair. Her smooth white back was flush against his chest, and her curvaceous derriere was snuggled against his groin. But the best part, the most surprising and dreamlike aspect of this delightful scene, was the fact that the female was … Amanda!

Without disturbing her, he lifted his head and peered into the dim light that filtered around the edges of the closed curtains to take a quick perusal of the room. He felt fairly certain he’d never been in this particular chamber before. The plush and tasteful furnishings were immediate proof that it was no public inn but a private residence, and the feminine folderol scattered here and there indicated that it was a bedchamber belonging to a woman.

The truth hit him like a runaway gig. He was in Amanda’s house … Amanda’s bedchamber … Amanda’s own bed! But how on earth had he got there?

He craned his neck and made a few more discoveries. While his clothes were neatly folded and hanging over a nearby chair, Amanda’s clothes were in a rumpled puddle on the floor by the side of the bed. All the evidence pointed to the astonishing conclusion that he and Amanda had made love right there in her own bedchamber under the respectable auspices of her two resident aunts. But how was that possible? Maybe he’d climbed in through the window, he speculated wildly. Or perhaps Amanda had sneaked him into the house after the aunts were abed.

Jack concentrated hard. The last thing he remembered was sitting in some squalid pub in the seamy side of town getting drunk. He cudgeled his brain for more information, then recalled with painful vividness the reason for his drinking spree. When he’d come to offer his heart and hand in marriage to Amanda yesterday morning, she’d turned him away at the door! Or rather, she’d had Henchpenny turn him away. But if, as he recollected from her letter, she wanted nothing more to do with him, why was he in her bed?

Jack frowned. This appalling gap in his memory was worrisome. He’d thought his amnesia due to the accident was a thing of the past. But perhaps he’d had a setback, brought on by booze and emotional distress. Before getting himself engaged to the
wrong
woman and falling in love with the
right
woman, he’d hardly ever got more than mildly tipsy. He was going to have to find some other way to drown his sorrows besides getting cup-shot.

But did he have any sorrows left to drown? he wondered, settling into the pillows again and tightening his arms around Amanda. From where he stood … lay? … things didn’t look half bad. The worst part of this whole strange incident, of course, was the fact that he couldn’t remember making love to Amanda last night. He’d regret that lapse of memory till his dying day.

She stirred in his arms and gave a soft sigh. The slight movement of her body against his immediately aroused him. He began to contemplate the agreeable prospect of making new memories ….

No such luck. Jack heard voices and approaching footfalls outside the bedchamber door. It sounded like the nervous, high-pitched tones of Amanda’s Aunt Prissy and the lower, more reserved accents of her Aunt Nan.

Panicked, he considered making a mad dash for his clothes. Then he realized that he didn’t have time to get more than one leg in his trousers. He mentally pictured himself frozen in such an embarrassing position—balanced flamingolike on one bare leg with the Montgomery family jewels on full display—and he decided it was best to stay under the covers. He scooted to a sitting position and pulled the blankets over his chest, tucking them securely under both arms. Blissfully unaware, Amanda slept on.

The door opened, and three figures entered the room. Miss Priscilla, Miss Nancy, and … Julian. Prissy had been whispering something to Julian as they entered, but her words trailed into oblivion as her cataract-clouded eyes adjusted to the dim light and she surveyed the scene before her.

Shock appeared to have turned them all into statues … except for their heads, which swiveled in unison as they looked first at Jack, then at Amanda, then at the telltale pile of wantonly discarded clothes at the bedside, then back to Jack.

Finally the aunts reacted with startled wheezes and by pressing their hands, one on top of the other, to their bosoms. Julian took out his quizzing glass, attached it to his eye, and lifted his chin, staring down at Jack with quelling hauteur.

“Good
Gawd
, Jack,” Julian said, finally breaking the silence. “Is this how you repay Miss Priscilla and Miss Nancy for rescuing you from the gutters of Spitalfields, by compromising their niece …
again
?”

Jack shrugged and grinned sheepishly. “Would it make some little restitution if I told you I don’t even remember doing the compromising?”

Amanda sighed and rolled over, nearly baring her breasts in the process. Jack hurriedly pulled the blankets up to her chin and said, “Wake up, Amanda. We’ve got company.”

Amanda blinked her eyes open, smiled up at Jack, and reached for him. Tactfully prying her arms from around his neck, Jack rolled his eyes toward the door. “Didn’t you hear me, sweetheart? I said
we’ve got company.”

Amanda looked dazedly in the direction he indicated, then screamed and scrambled to a sitting position, clutching the bedclothes to her chest.

“Wh-what are you doing in here?” she stammered, her eyes as big as plum puddings, her pale hair in charming disarray about her shoulders.

“We might ask you the same thing,” Nan primly replied, clasping her hands together and holding them at waist level. She bent forward and asked in the tone of a reprimanding governess who’d caught her naughty charge with her fingers in the sugar bowl, “What are
you
doing in here, Amanda Jane?”

“I should say that’s perfectly obvious, Nan,” said Prissy. She sucked in her cheeks and tried to look stem and sour, but Jack could see how her eyes sparked with humor. She waggled a gnarled finger. “And, as we all know, this isn’t the first time for you two!”

“Nor the last, I’ll wager,” Julian observed dryly. He’d turned his back out of respect for Amanda’s modesty and was standing with his arms crossed, looking at the wall. “When’s the wedding to be, Jack?”

“Oh, but—” Amanda began.

“I’ve always fancied a Christmas wedding,” said Nan.

“Wouldn’t Amanda Jane look lovely all in white and holding a poinsettia bouquet?” Pris added dreamily.

The two aunts nodded at each other like a couple of hens.

“Christmas sounds perfect to me,” said Jack, throwing his arm around Amanda’s shoulders. “What do you think, sweetheart?”

Amanda turned stricken eyes to Jack. “But I can’t be your wife, Jack!” she choked out.

“What nonsense is this?” demanded Nan, scowling. “We know you love him. You can’t just bed the man indefinitely. You might conceive a child, for heaven’s sake!” She paused, scowling harder. “You
do
love him, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course I do,” sniffed Amanda, crushing the edge of the sheeting and dabbing her teary eyes. “But I
can’t
marry him. Not yet!”

Jack caught Amanda’s shoulders and turned her toward him. Reluctantly, she raised her eyes to his. “You love me, Amanda, and I love you. And you definitely show no aversion to sharing my bed—”

“No, indeed!” Pris corroborated.

“—so would you mind telling me
why
you won’t marry me?”

Everyone stood stock still, waiting, as Amanda’s pained gaze drifted from one face to the other.

“Because Robert Hamilton thinks I’m going to marry
him!”
she finally blurted out. Then the rest came in a babble. “He’s … he’s blackmailing me, Jack!”

“What?” Jack was incredulous. “Rob’s blackmailing you? Why?”

“Jack’s friend is blackmailing Amanda Jane?” Pris repeated incredulously, turning a confused gaze toward Nan.

“If he’s a blackmailer, maybe we heard his name at the relief house in Spitalfields,” Nan speculated.

Julian turned. His pale eyes blazed silver-bright with anger. “Do you really have to ask why he’s blackmailing her, Jack? The little fiend needs the money. More to the point,
how
is he blackmailing you, Amanda?”

“He somehow found out about Sam, and he’s threatened to tell everyone she’s illegitimate! I couldn’t allow that, Jack. I couldn’t let him ruin her life once and for all. I had no choice but to promise to marry him, although I never intended—”

“The bloody bastard!” Forgetting he was naked, forgetting everything but his growing rage, Jack flung back the covers and stood up.

The aunts squealed and turned away, and Julian exclaimed, “Good
Gawd
, Jack! Show some decorum!”

“I beg your pardon, ladies … but to hell with decorum, Julian!” Jack spat, shoving his feet into his trousers. “How dare Rob threaten and coerce Amanda? You always said he was corrupt, but I never believed you. Now I have to kill the little sod!”

“Oh, this was just what I was afraid of!” cried Amanda, wrapping herself in a sheet and scooting to the edge of the bed. “This is why I didn’t tell you sooner! I was hoping I could keep things from getting violent. Oh, please, Jack, don’t do anything foolish! I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you!”

Jack buttoned his pants, then searched for his shirt. “Where the bloody hell—” He finally spied it wadded up on the rumpled bedclothes, grabbed it, and thrust his arms into the sleeves. He threw Amanda a furtive and tender glance. “You don’t understand, Amanda,” he told her. “What Rob has done is detestable. He has to answer for it. Not only has he tried to harm you and Sam, but he’s made a mockery out of our friendship.”

“Are you going to call him out?” Amanda asked faintly.

Jack sat down on the side of the bed and tugged on his boots. “Twenty paces at dawn,” he affirmed grimly. He peered up at Julian who stood near the door, silently watching. “Will you be my second, Julian?”

“Of course,” Julian promptly replied.

Amanda rebuked him with her eyes. “Must you encourage him, Lord Serling?”

“A man must always defend his honor and the honor of his loved ones, Miss Darlington,” Julian replied coolly. “It is a rule that cannot be broken.”

“Honor!” wailed Amanda. “What’s it worth if you’re
dead
?”

“What’s life worth without it?” Julian countered.

Jack stood up and slipped into his jacket. He bent down and gave Amanda a hard kiss, then cupped her chin and forced her to look at him. “Have you no faith in me, my love? Don’t fret. Sam’s future is safe,
our
future is safe. I’m
not
going to die.”

Then he turned on his heel and left the room, Julian following closely behind, the two of them nearly running down Henchpenny in the hall.

Startled to see Jack rushing from the premises half-dressed, Henchpenny exclaimed, “Er … my lords! I don’t think you want to go downstairs just now.”

Jack and Julian paused at the top of the stairs. Jack scowled and demanded, “Why not, Henchpenny?”

Henchpenny stood stiff and formal, but his eyes widened significantly. “Because Miss Darlington has a visitor waiting downstairs.”

“What?” exclaimed Jack. “This early? Who is it?”

“It’s the same gentleman Miss Darlington received yesterday morning, my lord. A Mr. Robert Hamilton, I believe.”

Then, to Henchpenny’s utter amazement, instead of waiting till the visitor was gone or leaving through the backdoor in the servants’ quarters to preserve Miss Darlington’s reputation, Jack flew down the stairs two at a time with Lord Serling fast on his heels.