He sighed heavily. The woman never failed to amaze him. She was going to protect him from the trials and tribulations of the city no matter what. Sighing again, he nodded. There was no use fighting it. Besides, the thought of leaving her was not pleasant, better to prolong the goodbye.
Molly scurried to open the door. Looked outside, both left and right, then stepped back and nodded. Amanda preceded him out, making sure they were not being observed. As he passed Molly, the young maid gently took his arm and said, “You be careful M’Lord.”
His heart hitched a little. “Of course Molly,” he said. “I won’t let myself get shot again.”
She frowned for a moment. “It wasn’t you I was worried about.”
He laughed and thanked her again. When he reached the coach, he had to hand his cane to Amanda and use both hands to pull himself up into the coach. Sweat broke out on his forehead at the effort.
What a weakling, he thought to himself as he settled back and tried to catch his breath. Amanda gave his address to the coachman and joined him.
She turned to examine him and slowly shook her head, her eyes flashing him an angry scowl. “You are as white as a fresh snowfield. This is ridiculous. What is worse, it is stupid. Not something I would have associated with you.”
His insides clenched at the thought of this woman being disappointed in him. But it couldn’t be helped. They rode on in silence. The swaying coach sending shafts of pain to both his shoulder and hip. Closing his eyes to fight the pain only made his stomach churn with distress.
Just get there, he thought to himself over and over. Just get home. He would deal with the Peters’ problem then collapse into his own bed.
As the coach turned and twisted its way through London, Amanda kept glancing at him from under her brow and sighing heavily. A look that reminded him of an angry governess disappointed in his performance.
“How can you expect me to pretend this never happened. That you never collapsed on my floor. How am I supposed to ignore the fact that men and women are plotting against my country?”
He sighed heavily. “Amanda, you don’t understand. This is dangerous …”
“Oh really?” she interrupted. “You mean someone might get killed? Why is it acceptable for you to risk everything, but I am not allowed? I am to simply sit in the corner and mind my own business. Yet, when you get hurt, I am expected to drop everything and help you recover. Only to step back once again. It isn’t fair. In fact, it is very maddening.”
He grimaced as he saw it from her perspective. Yet, how could he allow her to risk herself for him?
As if reading his mind she said, “I wouldn’t be risking myself for you, but for my King and country.”
He sighed again, the woman had an answer for everything. Luckily, the coach pulled to a stop in front of his home.
Giving her a weak smile, He made his way out to the sidewalk then turned to watch her descend unassisted. Once again his sense of honor felt attacked. He couldn’t use his weak arm to help her while relying on the cane to stop him from falling on his face.
Amanda had finished descending and was adjusting her dress when a voice from behind him sent a cold chill down his back.
Chapter Eleven
Amada watched as Lord Warwick stiffened while his face drained of what little color it had left.
“Mother,” he said as he slowly turned to address the woman walking toward them. It seemed they had arrived at Warwick’s home just as his mother was returning from a shopping excursion.
The older woman was followed by two footmen, both of them looking like stevedores loading a galleon for a year-long exploration. Their arms overflowing with packages.
“Miss Waters, is that you?” the woman said as she shot her a confused frown. Amanda had met Lady Warwick at several dances, she had always liked her. The woman was not very educated and held a great many outdated ideas. Especially when it came to the French revolution. But the woman knew the ton like a farmer knew his fields. She could spot a scandal three days before it occurred.
“Lady Warwick,” Amanda said, quickly dropping into a curtsey as her stomach turned over. What would Lady Warwick think? Finding she and Lord Warwick returning to his home in the same carriage. It just wasn’t done.
“How nice to see you again, Miss Waters,” The woman said as she glanced back and forth between them. Her eyes searching for the finest hint of dishonor.
“Miss Waters was kind enough to offer me a ride home,” Lord Warwick said as he held up the cane as if that explained everything.
Lady Warwick studied her son for a long moment then shook her head. “Why are you dressed like that, Warwick? I believe you were taught how much appearance matters. Workman’s clothes, really? I understand that pantaloons have become the fashion. But wool? And such a rough cut. Really.”
Amanda heard Lord Warwick sigh heavily and had to hold back a smile. The man was frustrated. No mention of him being gone for over two weeks, or the cane he was leaning on. No, she was more concerned about what people might think about seeing him like this.
“I will explain at dinner,” he said, obviously giving himself time to come up with an appropriate story.
“Oh,” his mother said with a raised eyebrow. Shooting him a look only a mother could get away with. “You have decided to grace us with your presence once again. How fortunate for us.”
Amanda felt a sweet pleasure wash through her. It was so nice to see someone unafraid of the great Lord Warwick. Someone who refused to be impressed by him.
The older woman glanced at her and then again at her son and then down at the cane he was leaning on.
“Are you injured?” she asked. “Or is this a new affectation. If so, I must inform you, it doesn’t work with workman’s clothes. Too fancy if you ask me. Perhaps a common cudgel would work better.”
Amanda couldn’t stop herself from smiling as Lord Warwick rolled his eyes.
“Thank you for your advice, Mother,” he said. “I will take it under consideration. Now, if you will excuse us, I need to thank Miss Waters and see her on her way. I will join you inside momentarily.”
Lady Warwick glanced at Amanda with a questioning frown that twisted her stomach into a knot. What was the woman thinking? Then a small smile pulled at the corners of the countess’s lips as she continued to look back and forth between them.
“Of course, Warwick. Take all the time you need. After all. I am only your mother. There is no need to worry about me.” Then, turning to Amanda, the older woman smiled openly. “Miss Waters, how nice to see you again. I do hope you might call on me someday. I am always receiving on Tuesday afternoons. I would love to have you stop by for a visit.”
Amanda’s heart lurched. The woman wanted to dig for information. Some hint of what existed between herself and her son. It was written all over the woman’s face. That curiosity mixed with concern for her offspring.
“Of course, Lady Warwick. Perhaps Lady Bradford and I could visit after she returns to town next week.”
Lady Warwick continued to smile, but a hint of disappointment flashed behind her eyes. She had obviously wanted Amanda alone. But the woman was a master of hiding her true feelings. No sooner had the possibility been there than it was gone.
The older woman gave Amanda an appraising look for a long second, then turned to her son. She took a deep breath, shook her head, and then turned to enter her home. One of the footmen raced to open the door for her.
Amanda watched her disappear and slumped with relief.
“Your mother thinks there is something between us,” she said to Warwick.
He laughed, “My mother is not a stupid woman.”
She gasped as she turned back to him. Was he being serious? Why here? Why be kind and charming here as they said their goodbyes. Why not when they were alone in his room. It seemed so cruel of the man.
She couldn’t kiss him. Not here, not now. She couldn’t even touch him. A dozen eyes were watching from up and down the street, she
was sure of it. Yet, every part of her soul demanded that she take this man in her arms and never let him go.
Staring up into his eyes she felt a connection she had never felt with any other person. Even her best friend Olivia. Nothing had ever been this intense. This personal.
The front door opened once again and Peters the butler hurried out. Her heart fell. Even more observers. One more interruption.
“My Lord,” the butler said as he hurried down the steps. “I am sorry, I was not aware you had returned.”
Lord Warwick waved a hand while continuing to stare at her.
“It is only that I would not have contacted you if it wasn’t important,” the butler continued.
Lord Warwick sighed heavily and pulled his eyes from her so that he could address his butler.
“Yes?”
Peters glanced at Amanda then back at Warwick as he raised a questioning eyebrow.
Lord Warwick smiled, “Miss Waters is now one of us. She can be trusted in all things.”
Peters smiled at her, welcoming her to a secret club.
Her heart felt as if it would burst. Lord Warwick’s statement might very well be the greatest compliment anyone had ever given her. And he had done so in such a casual manner. As if he were commenting on the weather.
Peters examined his employer, his eyes resting on the cane for a long moment. “Were you shot twice? That was the two fish. And the beautiful waters. That was Miss Waters here, obviously? Was I correct.”
Lord Warwick smiled. “Yes Peters, you were correct. As I knew you would be.” Grimacing he shifted a little as his forehead furrowed with pain. “But, really, please inform me why I have been called home?”
The butler frowned. “I am sorry sir, but it is Lord Liverpool, he demands your presence.”
Amanda gasped. “The Prime Minister?”
Lord Warwick grimaced and slowly shook his head. “He cannot be put off.”
“No sir, I thought not,” Peters said.
Amanda felt her anger beginning to rise once more. “Surely you are not thinking of going now. You need to be in bed.”
He continued to stare off into the distance.
“Peters,” Amanda beseeched. “The man shouldn’t have come this far. He can’t go on. He is about to collapse as it is. Surely you see it.”
The butler swallowed slightly as he nodded then turned to his employer. “I could send word to Lord Liverpool, Sir. Ask for a delay. Explain the situation.”
Lord Warwick continued to stare off into the distance as he ignored them both, then signaled for Amanda’s coach to approach.
“What are you doing?” Amanda demanded. “I hired that coach, I will not allow you to take it. Nor will I allow you to send me off like last week’s laundry.”
He turned to address both Peters and herself, his eyes focused and determined. “Lord Liverpool would not have summoned me unless it was important. My health cannot be allowed to cause delays. Opportunities might be lost forever. No, I must see him right away.”
Amanda’s stomach lurched. “This is so foolish, you will never make it there without collapsing.”
He smiled down at her. “I might. Especially if you were to accompany me. Unfortunately, I must impose upon you once again.”
Her world froze. He wanted her to help him reach the Prime Minister. He needed her assistance and was even admitting it in front of Peters.
She studied him for a moment, then turned to open the carriage door as it pulled to a stop next to them.
Lord Warwick chuckled then handed his cane to Peters to hold temporarily. “Tell my mother that I have been called away. Don’t mention Lord Liverpool or she will corner him at the next party. Just tell her it is something for the Regent. She wouldn’t dare press the Prince for details.
Amanda slowly shook her head as her stomach turned over. The man talked of Princes and Prime Ministers as if they were dear friends. Once again she was made aware of just how far apart their two worlds were.
Lord Warwick addressed the coachman. “Ten Downing Street.” Then turning to Amanda, he said, “We will go on to his residence in Fife if he isn’t there. But if I know the man, he will be near parliament. The man loves politics and can’t stand to take his fingers off the pulse of Westminster.”
Amanda gulped as she nodded, pretending as if she agreed. She watched closely as he pulled himself up into the coach. Peters passed him the cane then handed Amanda up into the coach to sit across from him.
“Send word Miss,” Peters said to her, “If you need anything.”
Amanda smiled and the coach was off. She looked over at Warwick but the man had his eyes closed as he fought against the pain. His forehead was creased with strain and his face had taken on a ghostly pallor.
Her insides tightened into a ball. The man had come to mean so much to her. A sense of surprise passed through her as she realized just how much.
He is an Earl of the Realm, she reminded herself. Never forget that. He travels in a different world. Yet, it wasn’t his title she craved. It was him. A pure and simple need that pulsed through her constantly. A need to caresses and hold. A need to experience.
There would never be a long future for them, she realized. There would be no family. No growing old together. No, the most she could hope for was a quick, joyous experience. Something to recall fondly in her later years.
Was that enough?
Perhaps it was, she realized. The alternative of going through life never knowing terrified her. If so, how should she ensure it happened. She well knew Lord Warwick. He would never seduce her. He would never think to act in such a dishonorable way.
Yet, that was exactly what she wanted him to do. What she needed from him.
Sighing internally, she leaned back and watched him rest. A dozen different questions danced in her head but she held back. Now was not the time. Let him gather himself.
At last, the coach rocked to a halt. Lord Warwick’s eyes shot open. He pulled the curtain back and glanced out the window as he sighed heavily. She could tell that he was dreading the coming exertion. She took his cane as he made his way out of the carriage.
Following him she glanced over and found him swaying back and forth, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his jaw. Without thinking, she slipped her hand under his injured arm to give him support.
She glanced up at him to make sure she hadn’t hurt him.
He smiled back weakly then nodded to the front door. She helped him up the step.
Ten Downing, she thought to herself. The center of the British empire. Even more than Buckingham Palace. From here, goals were set and the orders issued. A thousand threads leading to people all over the world. All pulled back to this very door.
The sense of history and power was almost overwhelming. Taking a deep breath she knocked.
It opened almost immediately, a footman in black and red livery bowed slightly, his quick glance obviously recognizing Lord Warwick.
“Is he in, Parker?”
The footman nodded, “Yes, My Lord. In his office.”
Lord Warwick winced then glanced over at Amanda. “The third floor.”
Her heart lurched at the thought of him having to climb three flights of stairs.
“Couldn’t he come down?” she asked him.
He laughed, Parker, the footman looked as if he’d been slapped by a dirty street urchin. More shocked than anything.
“No, I don’t think so,” Warwick said. “It just isn’t done.”
Amanda gritted her teeth. She was getting so tired of hearing what wasn’t done. It was about time people started doing things smartly. These constant rules were at times ridiculous.
Lord Warwick started across the black and white marble floor to the foot of the long staircase. She continued to hold onto his weak arm. A soft tingle traveled through her at the closeness between them. It was as if they were joined on the same path.
She smiled to herself. This sense of togetherness was new and strange. But it
gave her a feeling of strength as if there was nothing they couldn’t accomplish if they worked together. It was a feeling a woman could grow to love.
Warwick slowly made his way up the long staircase. One step at a time. Good leg, cane, weak leg. Over and over, with her there at his side.
Upon reaching the second floor, he stopped for a moment and gathered his breath. He glanced over at her and smiled. “I promise, I will not be this useless for long. Of course, the next flight of stairs might kill me.”
She laughed as a sudden realization washed over her. She loved this man. Her heart ached just thinking about it. She loved everything about him. His sense of honor. His touch, the way he looked at her as if she were special. Those broad shoulders and his tender smile. Everything made her feel as if life was the most beautiful thing in the world.
He could never know, she realized. It would drive him away faster than a stiff wind on a broad sail. No, he must never know.
Yet, she wanted him to know the truth. She wanted to scream it from the rooftops. She loved this man.
As he started up the second flight of stairs, she pushed her feelings down deep. It would be hard to keep them there, she realized. But she must. She could never let him know her true feelings. He would push her away even though he needed her help with his mission.
No, the quickest way to lose a rake was to tell him that you loved him. Even she knew that much.
At last, they made the third floor and turned into a suite of rooms. A Queen Ann desk sat to the side with a young man behind it, a dozen papers spread out in front of him. He glanced up and froze before jumping out of his chair and rushing around the front.
“Lord Warwick? He has been asking for you.”
“Thank You, Jenson,” Warwick said as he indicated the door to the inner office.
Jenson glanced at Amanda then back at Lord Warwick as his eyes turned over to a concerned expression. “Please, Lord Warwick, are you well?”
Lord Warwick looked back at him and said, “Do I look well?”
The young man grimaced.
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