The Last Heiress (46 page)

Two weeks later and ten pounds thinner, Nate approached the oyster shell drive of the Henthorne home cautiously.

“What's wrong?” asked Joshua. “Isn't this the house?”

“Yes, but perhaps they're still living aboard the
Lady Adelaine
.” Nate dug his fists deep into his pockets.

“We'll never find out this way. Perhaps a knock on the door is in order.” His brother started up the walkway.

“No, not the way we look. Let's at least wash our faces and hands around back.”

“Suit yourself, but let's not stand in the street all night.”

It took ten minutes for Nate to scrub off every bit of road dirt he could reach and dunk his head into a bucket to wash his hair. With wet strands dripping down his neck, he drank several dippers of wonderful-tasting water. They had yet to see a single person; the slaves from before the war were gone, perhaps on to better lives.

“We have spring water in the house for weary travelers.”

The voice behind him nearly stopped Nate's heart from beating. Cobblestones shifted beneath his feet, while the stone wall seemed to wobble. Perhaps an earth tremor shook the Carolina lowlands…or maybe Amanda simply had that kind of effect on his equilibrium.

He turned to see a vision in lavender silk in the doorway—yards and yards of flowing silk, but the ridiculous hoop was nowhere in sight. “Good evening, Miss Dunn. I didn't wish to jar your delicate sensibilities with my ungentlemanly appearance.”

She opened her mouth to speak but not a sound emanated. Instead, her face crumpled with emotion as she ran into his arms. “Oh, Nate, sometimes your clever wit vexes me to death!”

If not for the quick reaction of Joshua, they both might have toppled headlong into the well. “Steady on there. Let's not have your reunion become a swan song,” he said, laughing as he pulled them back from danger with a firm grip.

Amanda hugged Nate harder than he thought possible for a woman. “Careful now. I will get your pretty dress wet,” he whispered next to her ear.

Unbeknownst to anyone watching, she pinched his back through his shirt in reply. Then with great effort she extracted herself from the embrace. Patting her hair into place, she turned from Nate and said in her most charming accent, “You must be Joshua. Nate was supposed to save your life, not vice versa.” She held the backs of her delicate fingers up to his face.

Unaware of polite conventions, Joshua grasped her fingers and pumped her hand high in the air. “Yes, ma'am, that's me. Pleased to make your acquaintance. This is your sister's place?” He gawked unabashedly.

“It is. Tomorrow you shall receive the royal tour, but tonight let's find you both something to eat.” Amanda clung to the crook of Nate's elbow as they entered the kitchen. “We use this room more than the dining room these days.”

Nate recognized Salome, Thomas, and Amos sitting at the table. “Good evening.” He couldn't hide his surprise that they would continue to work here.

“Hullo, Mr. Nate.” They chimed in unison.

“Salome, would you fix plates for our guests?” asked Amanda. “I would like to first introduce them to Mr. and Mrs. Henthorne and then bring them back to eat by the cozy fire.”

“No need to look for us.” Abigail glided into the room with Jackson at her heels. “We spotted Mr. Cooper from the parlor window and couldn't wait to welcome him home.” Without hesitation, she brushed a kiss across Nate's cheek.

“Thank you, Mrs. Henthorne.” Nate knew the color of his face matched the bowl of ripe cherries on the table.

“Well done, Cooper. I didn't think Johnston would ever give up.” Jackson slapped Nate on the back.

“Word travels substantially slower without the benefit of ladies and neighbors.” Nate felt inclined to give some excuse for Johnston's waiting two weeks following Lee's surrender. “May I present my brother? Joshua, this is Mrs. and Mrs. Jackson Henthorne.”

This time Joshua shook only Jackson's hand before offering a small bow to his hostess. “Nate forgot to mention you two were identical,” he said.

“We're not. I'm a smidgen taller,” corrected Amanda.

“And I'm
infinitely
more beautiful.” Abigail's jest filled the room with laughter.

Later, after they had eaten their fill of stewed chicken and dumplings, the Henthornes rose to their feet. “Allow us to show you to your quarters, Mr. Cooper,” Abigail said. “I'm sure Amanda and Nathaniel would like a few minutes alone.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Joshua jumped up and trailed them up the steps. The servants also discreetly disappeared.

Alone with the woman he had dreamed about for months, Nate found his mouth dry as the Sahara Desert. He cleared his throat. “With the port reopening, have you given thought to returning to England? I'm sure your mother will be eager to see you. And you must be anxious to see if your changes have been implemented at Dunn Mills.”

“I'm surprised you remembered my mentioning some plans. We were embarking on a heated row at the time.” She refilled their cups from the teapot.

“I remember every word you said that night.”

“I am planning an Atlantic crossing this summer, perhaps in July. That should give me adequate time to prepare for my departure. After all, my duties in America are finished.” Amanda twirled a lock of hair around her finger.

Nate cleared his throat. “July should offer fair weather for sailing.”

“And what plans have you made? Do you still plan to try your hand as a sea captain?”

“A fisherman, yes. Joshua has agreed to become my partner.” He wasn't sure he liked the direction this conversation was going. Salome's delicious dinner began to churn in his gut.

“Splendid. Then our futures have been decided.” Amanda's tone sounded a bit shrill.

“Uh, regarding your voyage abroad…do you intend to return someday?” He was afraid to meet her eye.

“Yes, Mr. Cooper, I do.”

Nate chanced a glance at her. The queen of an invaded beehive couldn't look any angrier.

Amanda slapped her palms down on the table. “My
plan
was to sail to England on my
honeymoon.
My new husband and I would implement changes, find a suitable buyer who agrees with our vision for Dunn Mills, and then establish Mama in a flat in London—a place she has always yearned to live.”

Nate ran a finger around his collar to relieve a sudden tightness in his throat. “That…that sounds like an outstanding agenda. What has vexed you now?”

“There appears to be a fly in the ointment. Thus far no one has asked me to marry him!” The thundercloud hovering over her head turned ominous.

Nate slowly pulled the silverware out of her reach. “Easy, Miss Dunn. I'm sure you were taught patience as a child.” He let the words roll off his tongue, using the accent favored by coastal residents. “Can't a man relax a few minutes after a meal before getting down to business?”

She pushed up from the table, but he moved quickly. “Oh, no, you don't.” He took hold of both of her wrists. “Miss Amanda Dunn, after careful consideration I have a matter to discuss that cannot wait a moment longer. Seeing that I'm awfully fond of you,
and considering you tolerate me fairly well, and if I promise never to go to war again, would you agree to be my wife?” Grinning, he released her wrists. “What do you say?”

She narrowed her eyes into a glare. “That's it? That's your question?”

“It is, and I shall hold my breath until you answer.”

She shrugged with consummate British indifference. “I say yes.”

“You do realize I'll never be as prosperous as your papa.”

“I never wanted to be an heiress, Nate. I want my children to have parents who love them and who love each other.” She gave him her glorious smile. “Now let's see what Salome has for dessert.”

Amanda walked the length of her suite in Abigail's house for the last time…at least as a semipermanent resident. In the future, when she and Nate came for a week over the holidays or a long weekend in the city, it wouldn't be the same. She would no longer be an Englishwoman on holiday, sent to mend fences with an estranged sibling and restore shipping lines with an antiquated society. She would also no longer be a wealthy heiress trying to find common ground with an oh-so-attractive grocer with a heart for righteous causes. Should Amanda Cooper ever lay her head on Abigail's expensive silk sheets again, it would be as an American fisherman's wife who tended her flower and vegetable gardens by day and fed her husband gourmet meals prepared by her own hands.
Or something to that effect.

Since their simple church wedding two weeks ago, Amanda had begged Nate to take her home…
their home
along the Cape Fear River. She didn't care if it wasn't large or even finished yet. It would be theirs, built entirely by the Cooper brothers with a
little help from Mr. Campbell. But Nate had refused, insisting she would see the cottage in due time.
Or when pigs take flight, whichever happens first.

“Having second thoughts?” From the doorway, Nate interrupted her woolgathering.

“About what? Leaving Wilmington? You know I want to show you off to Mama and dazzle you with the famous Red Rose County. The sooner we board the
Lady Adelaine
and raise the sails, the sooner we can return home to North Carolina.”

“No, not about leaving.” He came up behind her and encircled her waist with his arms. “And it's ‘fire up the boilers,' not ‘raise the sails.'”

Amanda gently pinched him. “No need to get picky.”

“Maybe you're worried about entrusting such a grand sum of money with my brother for a fishing boat,” he murmured as he nibbled on her earlobe.

“Don't be ridiculous. It's my wedding gift to you. If Joshua squanders it foolishly, you two will be stuck fishing from a rowboat.”

“Have no fear. He has been crewing for weeks on trawlers and spending his free time with Captain Russell. Besides, he's far more practical with money than I am. I might be tempted to donate the entire lot to the Confederate Widows and Orphans League.”

Turning in his arms, she laid her head against his chest. “Once we sell Papa's mills, there will be plenty to fund all the charities you want. What kind of second thoughts do you mean?”

“Do you ever regret marrying me after meeting those eligible Wilmington bachelors?”

Amanda thought about Jackson's friends and burst out laughing. “Not so far, but perhaps you're still on your best behavior. Ask me again in twenty years. Besides, why would I regret marrying a man who promises me fresh oysters, soft-shelled crabs,
and flounder every night of my life? Someone who doesn't expect more than simple cooking and a steady supply of tea from all over the world? A man whom I will love until the day I die. What fault could a woman find with those terms?”

Setting a finger below her chin, he raised her head and kissed her softly on the lips. “Just checking, Mrs. Cooper. I don't want to take anything for granted. Are you ready to go? We're leaving earlier than planned because we have a stop to make along the way.”

“Do you mean Bermuda?” she asked as they left the room hand in hand.