“Are you insane?” Amanda demanded through clenched teeth as her eyes darted left and right to see if anyone had heard her outburst.
He laughed and slowly shook his head. “No, not as far as I know,” Lord Warwick replied as his heart settled into a comfortable beat. What was it about this woman that brought calm to a world out of control.
“But then,” he continued. “If I was? Would I know?”
She sighed heavily, obviously upset with him. “You needn’t wonder, You are, I promise you.”
He laughed and twisted to grab two more flutes from a passing waiter. Once again, Nathanial’s reach into France was to be admired. He would wager that Jocko, Nathanial’s man, had smuggled this home just last week.
He held one out for her and raised an eyebrow, daring her to refuse his offer.
She frowned at him in disappointment as she took the glass from his hand. Their fingers brushed and he had to fight the urge to take her into his arms, there in front of everyone.
“Now, then,” he began. “What have I done to upset you this time?” he asked her.
She shot him a look that only a woman could ever master. A look of pure feminine disapproval.
“What are you thinking?” She hissed. “You have as much as told Lord Hicks you know he is guilty and that it is only a matter of time until he is arrested.”
“Yes, I thought the Freddie Bartholomew part went very well. It was the factor that might put our Lord Hicks over the edge.”
Amanda stared at him for a long moment then slowly shook her head. It was rather obvious the woman did not believe in his plan. No, to her she would want all the ramifications laid out and narrowed down to just one possible outcome.
He didn’t operate that way. It took too long and besides, no plan ever worked out as it should. No, better to remain flexible and react.
“Besides,” he said as he removed her drink from her hand and placed both glasses on the side table. “This is our dance. And you know how well we dance together. Both of us in rhythm.”
Her cheeks grew slightly pink as her eyes held his for a long moment. She knew exactly what he was talking about. She didn’t know whether to smile or slap him. He laughed as he took her hand and led her onto the dance floor.
Yes, A most becoming look. Miss Amanda Waters was a remarkable combination of innocence and worldliness. A woman that a man could fall in love with if he were not careful.
But then, it might be too late, he thought to himself. And surprisingly, the realization did not frighten him to his very core. No, it was almost a relief to finally admit the truth to himself. He was in love with this woman and would be for the rest of his life.
A sadness washed through him that he fought to hide from her. He would never be able to have this woman. Not as she deserved. His life had no room for a wife. A hostage to fortune. No, it was not to be.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Amanda pulled on her glove then leaned in to give Olivia a goodbye kiss.
“Everything was perfect,” she told her friend.
Olivia smiled with relief and said, “I do wish you would stay the night. Heaven knows we have more than enough of rooms.”
Amanda slowly shook her head as she pulled on her second glove. No, not tonight. Tonight she needed to be in her own bed so she could dream about Lord Warwick.
The man had confused her more than once this evening, she needed time alone to decipher everything. First, he invited Hicks and that Freddie character. Then throws them together. Even worse, he had ignored his entire cold and distant plan.
Instead, he had danced with her, then joined her at Olivia’s side. Even flirting occasionally. Right there in front of everyone. What was the man thinking? Their friends and then eventually the ton itself would surely discover the truth.
And while the scandal would not hurt him or his family. It would destroy her.
Yet, she hadn’t been able to stand aside either. She could have closed him down. A sharp word. Even a special look and he would have stopped being so solicitous. But she hadn’t. Instead, she had basked in his attention. Loving the feeling of specialness it gave her.
Both Olivia and Lady Weston had shared more than one knowing look. She could see it in Olivia’s eyes. The woman was a born matchmaker and had learned at the knee of an expert in Lady Weston. The two of them would be arranging supposedly accidental meetings between her and Lord Warwick within a fortnight.
Throwing them together in the hope they found a connection. What would they think if they knew exactly how … connected they had already been.
As Benson draped her cape across her shoulders, she asked him to have one of the footmen hail a cab.
“It is waiting, Miss Waters,” the butler said with a soft smile.
“Thank you, Benson,” she said before turning back to Olivia. The concern in her friend's expression made her feel loved.
“Really, Olivia, I will be fine. Anderson will meet the cab when it arrives. I will never be alone. I assure you.”
Olivia studied her for a long moment then nodded in acceptance. That was the thing about Olivia, she despised being thwarted.
“It is a shame that Lord Warwick left so early,” Olivia said with a knowing smile. “Perhaps he could have escorted you. He is enough of a family friend that there shouldn’t be any scandal.”
Amanda’s stomach dropped. It was starting already.
“Olivia, this is the nineteenth century. I am perfectly able to travel across town without a man escorting me.”
Again, Olivia rolled her eyes. “Amanda, I saw the way you two were acting tonight. If I didn’t know better, I would think you were lovers.”
Swallowing hard, Amanda turned towards the front door, determined to give no hint to her friend. Instead, she shook her head and said, “Don’t be such a ninny. And put away your matchmaking urge. Lord Warwick and I are from two different worlds.”
Olivia followed along by Amanda’s side. “Maybe. After all, the man is a rake. It is impossible to imagine you ever being interested in him. But tonight … I saw something.”
Amanda waved her hand in dismissal. “Really Olivia, you are being silly.”
Her friend shrugged, but Amanda could tell that this was far from over. Her insides curled up at the thought that she would have to spend the coming months in constant denial. It was going to be hard enough to hide her feelings without Olivia constantly pushing at her.
“Goodnight,” Amanda said. “Thank you again. As I said, everything was wonderful. You did very well. As always.”
Olivia brought her in for another kiss on the cheek then let her friend go, her eyes studying her as if she were an old puzzle with new pieces.
Amanda shook off the sudden feeling of dread and allowed a footman to hand her up into the cab. Once inside, she pulled her cape in close against the crisp night are and closed her eyes as she settled back. Letting the dark night fold itself over her. The evening had been one stressful moment after the other.
Seeing Warwick again. His handsome face and those wide shoulders calling to her. Then watching him with Lord Hicks and that Mr. Bartholomew. Her heart had raced so fast she thought for sure it would never stop.
Add to that, their dance. She shuddered, remembering how close she had come to simply pulling him near and kissing him right there in the middle of Olivia’s ballroom. It had taken every fiber of her self-control to stop herself.
What was she to do? The man was her soul mate. The one person she knew she should be with for the rest of her life.
Yet, it was not to be. No. It could never occur. The thought sent a sadness through her. A sadness that felt as if it would weigh her down and keep her from ever being happy again.
The cab rocked as it turned a corner. Amanda sighed. She was returning to her life, she reminded herself as she checked her reticule to ensure she had a coin ready for the cab. Back to a life of boredom and loneliness.
No, she would never be Warwick’s countess. Such miracles do not
happen in the real world.
Wiping at a tear, she looked up. As the cab once again turned a corner.
Her brow narrowed in confusion. This wasn’t the way to her home. Had the driver misunderstood her?
“Sir,” she said as she leaned out of the window and called up at him. “This isn’t correct. You were to take me to Bolton street.”
The Cabbie ignored her as he called out to his horse.
Amanda’s heart jumped as a new fear started to build. Was the man taking a different route? Or was this something else. Something nefarious.
What would Warwick do?
“Sir,” she yelled louder.
The Cabbie continued to ignore her as he pulled his horse to the side.
Oh, good, she thought. The man was preparing to turn back. He must have finally realized his mistake. Setting back, she waited for him to turn his horse. But instead, he pulled to a full halt.
“What are you doing?” she mumbled to herself. However, before she could say anything, the cab door was yanked open by a big burly man dressed in rough clothes and a gray cap. His large dirty hand held the door while he stared at her as if he’d found a lost pound note laying in the street.
“There you are Miss,” he said with a snaggled tooth grin. “If you will come this way. His Lordship is waiting.”
Her heart hitched. No, Warwick would not have done this. Not without a warning.
“No,” she told the man, her chin rising to let him know she was very serious and would not be disturbed. “I wish to go home. There seems to be some kind of mistake.”
The man’s smile dropped to be replaced with an evil glint to his eyes. Amanda’s insides clenched up into a tight ball. This man would not be dismissed easily. No, this man loved to mistreat women, she could see it in his eyes.
“You can come easy, Miss. Or I can carry you, and there will be no telling where my hands might go,” he said with a look that let her know just how much he hoped she resisted.
Taking a deep breath, she held it for a long moment. If she screamed, would anyone come? Really, in the middle of the night, in London? No, probably not. No, it would only give this man permission to paw and handle her as he pulled her into the building.
Could she escape? Could she get the door behind her open and escape into the street?
As if reading her mind, the man’s hand shot out to grab her wrist. A shiver passed up her arm as she looked down at the dirty hand holding her.
“I will come,” she snapped as she pulled her hand from his grasp. She would do almost anything to not be touched by this animal.
The man smiled again, his eyes running over her body. “A shame.”
Amanda ignored the hand he offered to help her down. Gripping the door, she used it to steady herself. Once, on the street, she looked back over her shoulder up at the driver.
The man ignored her. Obviously unwilling to admit his complicity in her abduction.
“This way Miss,” Her tormenter said.
She turned to look up at the building and her heart slammed to an instant halt. Lord Hicks home. She well remembered it from her last time there. Her feet stopped moving of their own accord.
Why? She wondered. No gentleman would treat a woman of standing this way. Not unless he wished to ruin his place in the ton.
Lady Weston would eviscerate his family’s name across the entire country once she found out. His family would be shamed. No, this was not some simple mistake.
The burly man pushed her lower back, moving her to the door. She looked up at him and shuddered. This was not right. So not right.
Once they were inside, the heavy door closed behind her with a heavy thud.
Her heart continued to race as an anxiety built inside of her. How had Lord Hicks discovered her connection to Warwick? What had given her away? That could be the only reason that he had her abducted.
Or was Warwick already here?
A sudden hope flashed into her as a parlor door opened. Only to be smashed into pieces once she recognized Lord Hicks walking towards her. Those feral eyes of his slowly traveling over her as he smiled at her. A smile of a predator who had captured its prey.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Lord Warwick was pulled from his slumber by several sharp thumps on his bedroom door. As he woke, his hand instinctively grasped the knife under his pillow. He turned and glanced at the edge of the window. Morning’s gray light peeked in around the edge of the curtain.
“What?” He yelled at the door as the steady thump returned. He’d spent half the night issuing orders, receiving reports, and sending instructions to his men throughout the country. This had better be important.
“My Lord,” Peters said as he opened the door and stepped in. As always he was impeccably dressed, even at this hour of the morning.
Scoffing to himself, Warwick let go of his knife and pushed himself up on one elbow.
“I’m awake, what is it?”
“My Lord,” Peters began. “A man to see you. A Mr. Anderson.”
“Anderson? Who is that and why is he disturbing me at this ungodly hour?” Lord Warwick asked his butler with a deep frown.
“He mentioned that it was about Miss Waters …”
“What?” Warwick exclaimed as he threw back the blankets and jumped from his bed. Thank god his valet had not yet gathered his clothes. They lay where he had discarded them less than an hour earlier.
“… you instructed that anything dealing with Miss Waters was to be brought immediately to your attention,” Peters reminded him.
“Yes, yes,” Warwick said as slipped on his pants and tucked in his shirt then hurriedly reached for his shoes. No, he thought, there was no telling what he would face. Boots would be better. Once on, he slipped his knife into the right boot. It was going to be that kind of situation, every part of his being told him so.
A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind. Was Amanda well? Had she sent Anderson to him with a note? A note asking him to meet her. Had she changed her mind about them no longer being together? Or was it as he feared, Amanda in distress?
Where was his jacket? He wondered as he frantically scanned the room.
“I have him waiting in your study, My Lord,” Peters said. “I thought you might not wish to advertise his presence.”
“Yes,” Warwick said. His jacket? To hell with it, he decided. He didn’t need a jacket.
As he raced down the stairs, his stomach clenched into a tight ball. This was not going to be good. Every fiber of his soul knew it. Prepare yourself, he thought. Amanda was in danger. There was no doubt in his mind.
His world shifted. His priorities, what was important, everything was different. Nothing must ever be allowed to harm Amanda. That was his true mission in this life, he realized.
“Mr. Anderson,” Lord Warwick said as he stepped into his study, Peters behind him.
The man was a giant, closer to seven feet than six. Yet he stood there with a frightened expression on his face as he twisted his cloth cap in his hand.
“M’Lord,” the big man said. “My Molly sent me. She said I was to talk to you and no one else.”
Lord Warwick’s insides twisted even tighter. It must be very serious if the unflappable Molly was concerned.
Mr. Anderson took a deep breath, “M’Lord. It is Miss Waters …”
“Yes, yes what is it.” Lord Warwick demanded as he held his breath.
“… she has not returned. I waited for her. But she never came home.”
Lord Warwick froze as his heart turned to ice. It was as he feared. “Couldn’t she have spent the night with Lady and Lord Bradford?” A faint hope gathered at the bottom of his stomach.
The large man slowly shook his head as he continued to turn his cap around and around in his hands.
“Not without sending word, M’Lord. Miss Waters knew I was to wait for her. We begged her to let me escort her, M’Lord.”
Warwick’s teeth clenched, the man was right. But he needed to be sure. Tu
rning, he addressed Peters. “Send a man to Lord Bradford’s to see if Miss Water has left and when.”
“Yes, My Lord,” Peters said as he spun on his heel to do as he was instructed. The worried expression in his butler’s eyes confirmed Lord Warwick’s worse fears. He was not the only one who understood that this was serious. Very serious.
“M’Lord, there is something else,” Anderson said, pulling Lord Warwick back to reality. “A man was watching the house.”
Warwick nodded, “Yes, one of mine.”
“No, M’Lord. Not your man. Miss Waters told me about him. I had already placed him. No, this was another man. A tall chap, but tonight, he disappeared. He has been there for days, but tonight, just as I expected Miss Waters’ return, the man was gone.”
Lord Warwick stared at the big man as he tried to work out the puzzle, Hicks, it had to be Hicks. Only that bastard would do something like this. Somehow he had discovered Amanda’s involvement. A cold chill ran through him at the thought of what this might mean for Amanda.
Had Hicks called the man back because he knew Amanda would not be returning?
The man wouldn’t live to see the next sunset, he swore to himself. If he had harmed Amanda in the slightest, Lord Hicks would die a long miserable death.
Rushing to his desk he removed a pistol. Checking it, he made sure it was both loaded and primed. His was a dangerous life. He kept this weapon always ready.
Tucking it into his belt, he told Anderson to go home and wait for Miss Waters.
“M’Lord, I think I should come with you,” the big man said.
Warwick examined the man, he might be of some assistance, but no. This had to be done alone. Besides, half a dozen of his men were watching Hicks, if he needed assistance, he need only call on them.
“No, Mr. Anderson,” he told the man. “I need you at Miss Waters’ home in case she returns. If she does, you are to send word here and let no one in until I get there. Is that understood.”
The big man hesitated for a moment then slowly nodded.
Lord Warwick patted the man on the arm then turned and hurried from the room. Should he take a horse? No, by the time they had it ready he would be halfway to Hicks.
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