Whispers at Midnight (29 page)

Amanda frowned and pretended to be
offended.

“You are teasing me for my impertinence,”
she said, tilting her little chin up coyly.

Gardner chuckled and patted her hand fondly.
A few moments later Emma and Trudy joined them for an early tea and
after that Gardner would hear of nothing but driving Amanda into
Williamsburg to a jeweler he knew. It was his custom to have guests
for dinner at his house each Friday evening and he wished to have
Amanda serve as hostess for the occasion. He promised to have her
back early the following day, and as she was anxious to arrange a
sale of the pieces she had decided not to keep, she agreed to
go.

“These are worth six hundred pounds,” Mr.
Craig of the Golden Ball told her as he examined the emerald-and-
diamond earrings. She would keep them. But if ever she were truly
desperate for money, the earrings would be her salvation. “The
stones are well-cut and as close to perfect as any I have seen,”
Craig added. “I can give you fifty pounds for the other things.
It’s a fair price and I can offer it only because I have a client
who is interested in pieces of this sort.”

“Then it is agreed on at fifty,” Amanda
replied. The sum sounded like a fortune to her. “And if you will
deduct the cost of the repair for the earrings, we shall have
settled the amount completely. When can I call for them?”

“Next week, Miss Fairfax. And if you do not
mind my saying, the emeralds will be wonderful with your eyes. The
color is little different.”

Amanda blushed as she took the money and the
receipt for the earrings. She placed both in a small purse and
secured it in her pocket.

“I thank you, Mr. Craig,” she answered
softly. “I’ll call on next Friday for the earrings.”

“Good day to you, Miss Fairfax.”

Gardner had left her at the jeweler’s while
he drove out to his distillery to attend some business that awaited
him. She had an hour before he was due back to meet her at the
Raleigh Tavern. She decided to use the time shopping for items that
appealed to her feminine fancy. With her purse full for the first
time in many months, she could afford to be just a little
extravagant.

She purchased a bottle of jasmine scent that
had long been her favorite, and a parcel of bath salts. It had
become her custom to take a leisurely bath in the marble tub every
evening, and she had used the last of the aromatics Aunt Elise had
left.

Feeling generous and carefree, she purchased
a small gift for each of the women at Wicklow. A new cap for
Gussie, a lemon sachet for Emma, and a lace handkerchief for Trudy.
She would have to be frugal with the remainder of her money, but
today she felt just a little too happy with her improved
status.

Amanda, laden with her bundles, was peeping
in the window of a hat shop when someone tapped her shoulder.

“And which one of those frivolities would
suit you, fair lady?”

That voice and the lighthearted tone were
the last she had expected to hear today.

Straightening quickly, she stole a glance at
his reflection in the glass before she turned.

“Why, Ryne,” she said, her own voice
remaining equable. If he were guilty of trying to harm her, it did
not show in his face. “What a surprise. What brings you to
town?”

A slight twinkle shone in the depths of his
blue eyes, as if he found it humorous that she was treating him
with polite reserve.

“Even a horse trader must tend his
business,” he said, the corners of his lips turning up a notch.

She flushed. He was making fun of her. “Of
course, I didn’t mean . . .”

“Really, Amanda,” he said in that low
melodic voice that sent a shiver over her skin. She was annoyed
that she felt a quick response as he lifted a hand and slowly,
sensuously stroked her arm. “Aren’t we a little beyond making
polite chatter?”

Amanda’s cheeks flushed brighter. She drew
back and looked in every direction to see if anyone had noticed
Ryne’s fondling.

Her mouth quivered. “How would I know? You
have avoided me for days.”

Looking devilishly handsome, he smiled down
at her. “That was because I didn’t know what to make of you. I had
not placed you in the role of innocent seductress.” He shrugged and
took a step nearer. His eyes roved lazily over her. “To find you
were a virgin was a shock from which I am only now recovering.”

Amanda tried to take a step back, but found
she was pressed against the window of the little shop. Ryne, she
felt, was standing far too close for propriety. She could feel his
warm breath on her cheek as he spoke.

“You haven’t told me.”

She looked at him unkindly. “I don’t know
what you mean.”

Ryne’s smile widened. “The hat. Which do you
prefer, ribbons or feathers?”

“Ribbons,” she said stiffly, pushing past
him.

He caught her arm and whirled her back to
him.

“I like you best in moonlight and a soft bed
of grass.”

A rush of color sped to her face.

“Ryne, please,” she said pleadingly. “You
are making a spectacle of us. If we must have it, this is not the
proper place for such a conversation.”

“My apologies, madam,” he said, stepping
back with an exaggerated gallantry. “Join me for a tankard of ale
and I promise to speak only in lowered tones.”

“Perhaps another time, Ryne,” she said,
drawing her arm from his grasp and starting to walk away. “I am to
meet—”

“Gardner at the Raleigh, no doubt. His
favored spot.”

He caught up with her and took her arm
again, causing several heads to turn in their direction. “No harm
in having a drink with me until he arrives.”

“I think we should not.”

“Then, madam, we must have this out here. I
will have my say, whether here or in a quiet corner of the
tavern.”

Amanda noticed with chagrin the stares of
passersby. “We’ll go to the Raleigh then,” she said, appalled by
his insistence, when she had plainly indicated she preferred not to
accompany him. She felt a slight relief too. It seemed apparent
Ryne knew nothing of what had happened in Evelyn’s sitting
room.

He took some of her packages but kept a
tight grip on her elbow as they walked the few blocks to the
tavern. Smiling, he nodded and greeted by name almost everyone they
passed on the street. But Amanda, reluctantly at his side, was
still simmering at his heavy-handed means of having his own
way.

“Smile, Amanda,” he whispered. “Or all
Williamsburg will think you are a shrew.”

“Ha!” she scoffed. “I may well be, if I must
contend with you.”

“That, Amanda, will be up to you. I wish to
make you a proposition.”

Amanda smiled grimly. He wanted something.
Money perhaps, to buy more horses or to pay his gambling debts. He
might have followed her and have learned the value of the emerald
earrings. She wondered if he had known about them and simply not
known where to look. Would they have disappeared like the chess set
if Aunt Elise had not kept her things in such haphazard order?

Ryne escorted Amanda into the tavern and
asked for a table near a window at the far corner of the dining
room. He ordered a tankard of ale for himself and a glass of
Madeira for Amanda. She watched pensively as feminine eyes were
drawn to Ryne. His black garb set him apart from the other
gentlemen in their dun-colored or gray or blue coats and
breeches.

It was the first time she had seen him in
the company of others and she was suddenly aware, as were those
other women, that no other man in the tavern was nearly so
handsome. Indeed she had yet to see the man who could compete with
him on that score. With a pensive sigh she admitted that none
present even came close to having his broad shoulders and narrow
hips, or the look of harnessed energy the long, sinewy muscles gave
his body.

But while the other women eyed him
admiringly, Amanda eyed him covertly.

“What is it you wish to say to me, Ryne?”
she asked boldly, having made up her mind she would not be awed by
his brash manner. “I have only a few minutes before Gardner is to
meet me here.”

Ryne scowled. “You seem to have my brother
ever at your beck and call.”

“Indeed I do not!” Amanda retorted sharply.
“It is simply that your brother is considerate enough to anticipate
a woman’s needs and whims. He has seen fit to drive out and bring
me into town on several occasions and to introduce me to many of
his friends.” She smiled. “Very gentlemanly behavior, I must
add.”

Ryne swore silently. Much as he tried to
prevent it, it irked him that she found his brother so praiseworthy
and had only sharp words and reprisals for him. But as he
remembered the night by the river, a slow smile spread across his
lips and a dark flame showed deep in his eyes.

“He has not been able to anticipate all your
needs, my sweet. It has been left to me to attend to some of
them.”

Amanda’s cheeks burned and her fingers shook
on the stem of the wineglass she held.

“You are a loutish brute,” she hissed.

“I am a man,” he answered softly. “And you a
woman. I have felt the blood run as hot in your veins as in my
own.”

He bent low over the table so that his face
was near hers. His large hand covered her smaller one in a warm
clasp. Amanda was so startled by his words and his touch that she
spilled a few drops of wine from her glass. She pulled her hand
from beneath his and glanced about, fearing that the proximity of
the other guests in the tavern room made it possible for them to
know the nature of their conversation.

“Ryne,” she pleaded, “do please take care
what you say.”

Ryne laughed, and paying little attention to
her protest, continued.

“We have found a common ground, Amanda. And
using that, we could make an agreement that would satisfy us both.”
His eyes darkened seductively. “I have decided I would like to stay
at Wicklow permanently, and with my help you could maintain the
house as grandly as you like.”

Amanda watched with rounded eyes as the
timbre of his mercurial voice started a small, anxious flutter in
her heart. She knew what he was about to say.

His voice was velvet-edged and soft. “I
would like you to be—”

“Stop it,” Amanda whispered, giving him a
black look. Her emotions reeled out of control and for a moment she
sat silently trying to pull her thoughts together. He was going to
ask her to be his mistress. She felt a raw hurt, as if a knife had
sliced into her heart. Perhaps she deserved this despicable offer
for having been such a fool. But she did not have to hear it from
his lips. That humiliation she could spare herself.

“I don’t think you understand,” Ryne said,
an amused look twinkling from the depths of his blue eyes.

“Oh, but I do,” Amanda answered, her voice
icy and exacting. “And the answer is no. I would not be your
mistress, any more than I would be your wife.”

A muscle twitched in Ryne’s jaw. The
knuckles whitened and grew tense over his clenched fists.

“I see,” was his seething reply.

“Good,” Amanda answered with a scowl, but
her defiance was tested a moment later when Ryne’s gaze impaled her
like a lance and his voice dropped to a growl.

“Have your way, Amanda. But if you still
plot to catch Gardner, you’ll find he’ll not want a virgin first
sullied by his brother.”

His words burned through her like a hot
iron. Amanda felt her voice fading to a whisper as she responded,
“You would not tell him of that.”

Anger hardening his features, Ryne got
noisily to his feet. He gave her a cold, contemptuous smile.

“I would,” he said, and turned abruptly to
stalk away to another room of the tavern.

Amanda breathed a troubled sigh and pressed
her hands to her flushed cheeks. It seemed that whenever she and
Ryne were together more than a few minutes, their anger erupted as
violently and hotly as boiling lava from a volcano.

She hoped Gardner would arrive soon. She
needed his calm reserve to balance the torrent of emotions she
felt. What vexed her most was that just for a moment she had felt
her heart wavering on the brink of considering what Ryne wanted of
her.

A single tear welled in the corner of her
eye. Amanda make quick work of dabbing it away with a lace
handkerchief she snatched out of her pocket. How he would gloat
over that tidbit. She could see the diabolical amusement on his
lean face as if he still sat at the table with her.

Ryne would undoubtedly be pleased to know
that even though he tormented her with churlish disregard for her
feelings, she still could not cut him out of her heart.

When Gardner arrived, she forced a bright
smile to her face and did not hesitate to take a second glass of
Madeira. With all her heart she wished she had ordered Ryne
Sullivan out of Wicklow the first moment she had seen him.

***

The innkeeper cast troubled eyes on the
young Mr. Sullivan. Never had he known the gentleman to drink so
much. In the space of an hour the man had consumed well nigh a
small keg of ale. And in his inebriated state he had challenged
every man in the room to a game of billiards, all for stakes high
enough to put any but the wealthiest man in ruin. By some run of
luck, Mr. Sullivan had won every game, though it was hard to figure
how the gentleman even stayed on his feet.

The last game had been wagered over a ruby
ring banded by a circle of diamonds. Mr. Sullivan had pulled it
from his pocket and with a loud oath declared he had less use for
the bauble than the devil for fire.

To the innkeeper’s relief, no man had taken
up the last challenge, all knowing Ryne Sullivan’s reputation and
none willing to risk the possibility of his temper taking a sour
turn should he lose. Finally Ryne had staggered out of the tavern
and, hopefully, found a place to sleep off the sprits.