Whispers at Midnight (39 page)

As she hurried out she saw Ryne striding up
from the stable, his black shirt open down his chest. She drew in a
quick breath. Her first impulse was to step back into the doorway
so that he would not see her.

She watched as he approached the tea table
which had been set and covered with a linen cloth for protection.
Amanda looked about for Trudy, thinking perhaps he had arranged to
meet her in the garden before teatime. It occurred to her at that
moment that she had not thanked him for the work his men had done.
He had, as promised, kept his word about restoring the gardens.

She dropped her head a little. Ryne was no
saint. Far from it. But she had wrongly accused him on many counts,
and it seemed the very least she could do was to apologize on that
score and to thank him for the work in the garden.

With an air of determination she descended
the steps and called out to him.

“You are back early.”

“Merely being punctual. I need time to bathe
before your party begins. I did not think the guests would
appreciate the smell of sweat and horses among them.” He smiled
smoothly.

Amanda nodded. “I’ll keep you only a
moment.”

She wished she could tell him she no longer
thought him responsible for the harrowing experiences she had
suffered at Wicklow. But she had promised Cecil Baldwin she would
keep quiet. Ryne and Gardner were brothers, and though there were
bad feelings between them, who could predict how Ryne might feel if
he knew Gardner was to blame? He might consider it his duty to warn
his brother, and then she and Cecil would never be able to prove
Gardner’s guilt.

“You have something to say, Amanda?” Ryne
scowled impatiently.

“Yes,” she answered. “I wish to thank you
for making the gardens beautiful again. The work your men did in a
few days would have taken me months to accomplish.”

Ryne raised a brow and eyed her
contemptuously. “I always pay my debts.”

“Also,” Amanda said, the words seeming to
tumble out on their own, “I wish to apologize for accusing you of
frightening me and for believing you stole the jewelry. I know now
you did not.”

“I see,” he said slowly. “And pray tell me
how I have been exonerated.”

“I cannot,” she stammered. “Not for a
while.”

Ryne shrugged dismissively and sauntered a
few steps closer to Amanda. She found herself backed against the
tea table as Ryne stared down at her. He caught a length of ribbon
that trailed from a bow on the shoulder of her gown. He smelled of
horses, as he had said, and of pine, as if he had been riding
through the thick forests. The scents blended in a pleasantly
stimulating way that she found herself responding to despite her
efforts to resist.

“You could do worse than trust me,
Amanda.”

His voice had taken on that quality of dark
velvet that seemed to reach right into her heart. Mixed feelings
rushed through her.

It had seemed simple enough to deduce that
if Gardner were guilty then Ryne was innocent. And yet she could
not overcome some shadowy doubt that lingered untidily in her mind.
She suppressed the urge to tell him all that she had uncovered.

Deliberately she dropped her gaze from the
piercing blue eyes that might in another moment have shaken her
resolve.

“I am keeping you too long,” she
stammered.

“Dear little Amanda,” he whispered. “What
goes on in that head of yours?”

Amanda’s eyes came back to meet Ryne’s.
“It’s only that I’ve thought about it and realized I was wrong
about you.”

He laughed. “Much as I should like to
believe your opinion of me has changed, I do not. I believe the
only reason for my pardon is that you have shifted the blame
elsewhere.” He gripped her shoulders lightly. “You are forcing a
dangerous game, Amanda. How sure can you be of your players?”

“I am sure, Ryne.” She bit a trembling lip.
“And I am truly glad it is not you.”

Secretly she had hoped to see a softening of
his expression, perhaps to hear him say he was glad that at last
she had come to her senses. But instead he lifted his gaze from her
face and looked away, as if something behind her had caught his
attention.

A muscle in his jaw twitched momentarily as
he stepped back a pace. Amanda turned her head toward Wicklow to
see what had disturbed him, but not fast enough to see the pale
face disappear from the attic window.

If he had been about to say something to
her, the intention left him and he hurriedly bade her good-bye as
he started toward the house.

***

The tart lemon punch, little sponge cakes,
and small sandwiches Gussie and Mrs. Campbell had prepared were
consumed beneath the cool awning of the trees. Conversation and
laughter flowed as freely among the women as the bourbon Gardner
had brought did among the men.

“You must attend the ball at Weller Hall
next month, Amanda. Emma and Trudy must come too. I know a dozen
young men who will be fawning over two beautiful young ladies.”
Margaret smiled. “Ryne and Gardner never miss a ball at Weller
Hall.”

Trudy’s eyes brightened. “I would be
delighted to attend, Mrs. Weller. I am sure my aunt agrees.”

Emma dropped to her lap the knitting she had
taken out and was busily working on. She nodded her agreement and
smiled thankfully at Margaret Weller.

“I too would be delighted,” Amanda
concurred, though it seemed odd to be thinking of such frivolous
matters when her mind was laden with worry.

Margaret pointed toward Ryne and Gardner.
“It does my heart good to see those boys have mended the rift that
almost made them strangers to one another. It broke Elise’s heart
when they swore off each other, but there was nothing she could do
to make them come to terms. Over a woman, of course.”

“Mother,” Ariel protested, “your head is
like a sieve. Everything that goes in comes out a hundred times
over.”

“Hush, Ariel.” Margaret huffed. “Everyone
knows they fought over that Hanson girl Gardner got himself engaged
to. The little strumpet would have liked to have them both, and
every other man in the colony. Married a Frenchman after the
engagement was broken. Never been back. Good riddance too, I say.
She’d have made him miserable.” Her eyes turned to Amanda. “I
suppose we have you to thank, my dear, that they have made their
peace.”

“Perhaps,” Amanda said awkwardly. She
glanced at the four men who stood some distance from them in the
garden and looked as if they might be deeply engaged in a
conversation about the latest price of tobacco. Only she knew it
was distrust that had brought Gardner and Ryne together at Wicklow,
each afraid the other would be first to find the gold—and one of
them determined to have it at any cost.

As she watched, the men took a last round of
bourbon and a moment later broke up, Ryne and Jonathan Weller
striding off toward the stables. Ryne had brought Libelia to
Wicklow and would possibly try to interest Jonathan in purchasing
Cavalier, the foal she had borne.

Gardner and Cecil were soon among the
women.

“Amanda, ladies,” Cecil said. “If you will
forgive me for being ill-mannered, I must beg an hour’s leave of
you to complete drafting a contract that must be delivered to my
client tomorrow morning. I should like to have the task behind me
so that it will not nag my conscience at dinner this evening.

Amanda’s eyes met his knowingly. This would
be the chance Cecil Baldwin sought to search Gardner’s room for the
ship’s log or other clues.

“By all means, Mr. Baldwin,” she said with
alacrity. “Do as you must.” Her eyes were now on Gardner and she
was smiling disarmingly. “I do hope you will not desert us too,
Gardner. A walk by the river would do us all good if we are to do
justice to the dinner Gussie and Mrs. Campbell are preparing.”

“I would be honored,” he said, making a
slight bow to Amanda.

Ariel got to her feet, and Trudy too, though
perhaps a bit reluctantly. Was Trudy thinking she preferred Ryne’s
company?

“You young people go,” Margaret said. “Emma
and I will sit here and talk. I am too content to move. Go on,
now,” she insisted.

Gardner offered his arm to Ariel—the way the
master of the house would to a guest, Amanda thought. Already he is
imagining that Wicklow belongs to him.

***

After dinner Gardner surprised them all by
asking his man, Pitt, in to play the fiddle. The ballroom was
opened up and soon they were dancing to the lively music.

Not enough time had been taken to light all
the candles in the gilt holders set to the wall, but those that
burned flickered like starlight in the rows of mirrors that lined
the ballroom. The room was large, much longer than wide, and at the
far end, where there was only reflected light, it had the moody
look of twilight. Those dark corners were shadowed and foreboding
and Amanda found herself not wanting to be led near them as she was
whirled around the floor by Mr. Weller.

Cecil Baldwin claimed her for the second
dance. The music and laughter were loud enough to drown out their
voices and she hoped Cecil would tell her what he had learned by
searching Gardner’s room. She had observed him closely during
dinner and deduced that he was anxious to share this news with
her.

“It is as we thought,” he whispered as he
moved her around the floor with a lightness of step that was
surprising from a man of his girth. “The log was hidden in his
satchel. I removed it and it is now safely concealed in my
room.”

Amanda paled. Gardner and Ariel whirled by,
she radiant in a gown of deep rose. Her eyes sparkled, as did
Gardner’s. He looked deceptively as if he had not a care in the
world but matching his steps with those of Ariel.

Ryne and Trudy spun around just opposite
them. Trudy’s dress of gauzy white crepe was adorned with a
sprinkling of pink bows. The full skirt skimmed lightly over the
floor. Amanda quickly averted her eyes from the couple. With Ryne,
Trudy looked incredibly like an angel captured in the devil’s
arms.

Cecil guided Amanda away from the others,
and only then did she feel confident enough to respond to what he
had told her.

“He will discover the book is missing when
he returns to his room,” she whispered.

A faint smile curved Cecil Baldwin’s lips.
“Do not fear that. He will know he has been found out. You have
nothing more to fear from Gardner.”

“Then you think this will put an end to what
has been happening?”

“I believe it firmly. I will speak to him as
well, and let him know that he is uncovered.” He was silent for a
few seconds and then he added, “Still, if you wish to accuse him
publicly, that is your right. I only thought that for Elise’s sake
you might want it done quietly.”

She had not considered how difficult it
would be to make a public accusation. Though conclusive to her and
Mr. Baldwin, the evidence against Gardner might prove flimsy to a
court. She could understand Gardner’s desperation and even forgive
his trying to frighten her. Yes, for Aunt Elise’s sake she would
try to end the matter quietly.

“Perhaps you could help Gardner find an
honorable way to settle his affairs.”

Cecil squeezed her hand. “I think you have
made a wise choice, my dear. I will offer my assistance. It will be
up to him to accept or refuse.”

She would have talked more with Cecil, but
the tireless fiddler switched to another tune and the Wellers
called for a dance where they reeled from one partner to another.
Amanda found herself being handed round the floor from Cecil to
Gardner and then to Ryne, who spun her at a dizzying speed through
the series of steps.

It was like falling into fire, being in
Ryne’s arms. He was all heat, his arms firebrands burning her
shoulders, his eyes hot coals setting her blood ablaze. In those
few moments before he relinquished her to the next in line, she
felt a mounting sadness that things had gone astray between
them.

“Ryne,” she whispered without knowing. She
saw a faint acknowledgment in his eyes, perhaps the sharing of a
common thought.

But too soon he moved on to the next dancer
and she felt the heat turn to cold as Gardner took her in his arms
and led her through those same steps. She could not meet his eyes
and suddenly she had lost the rhythm of the dance. He felt her
coolness and looked at her sadly.

“Amanda,” he admonished, “you mustn’t let
this happen.”

“I will have to take steps if—”

But she whirled away and into the arms of
Cecil Baldwin, who had come back around in the dance.

“You must talk to him soon,” she whispered,
her voice trembling. “He made a threat.”

“A threat?” Cecil’s eyes were first
unbelieving and then took on the keen look of a bird who has
spotted its prey. Amanda relaxed a little, knowing that behind
Cecil’s soft, fatherly countenance lurked a man who could be as
formidable as his enemies. “Not another worry, my dear,” he said
soothingly. “Leave it all to me.”

Amanda insisted Emma take her place on the
dance floor while she took a turn watching the swirling, spinning
figures and the lone musician. She clasped her hands in her lap.
The fiddler played a semblance of a waltz and the dancers seemed to
become lonely figures, four slowly spinning couples in a room that
would accommodate one hundred.

Her spirits drooped in spite of her efforts
to keep them high. The sweet music grew harsh and grating to her
ears. It was like watching a mockery of a ball where the dancers
had been swallowed up into the darkness that loomed across the
ballroom.

She closed her eyes, hoping the dark, gloomy
thoughts would leave her. For a moment she thought she was
imagining the cool rush of wind and the sudden nervous laughter and
unexpected shriek of the fiddler’s bow. But as she opened her eyes
to blackness, she knew the sounds were real. She saw a flurry of
movement as the dancers drew apart except for one couple, whose
embrace lingered. But soon they were all banded together and she
could not tell which couple had been so reluctant to part.