But even as he wondered, he knew that would have been unwise. In the wake of that kiss, being anywhere near her was a risky thing. He’d broken his promise that she was safe in his company once already, and he had no intention of doing so again, as deliciously tempting as it might be.
Asquith stopped rambling on about the government’s efforts to improve railway efficiency, veering Jamie off the precarious path his thoughts had started down. He sat up straighter on his seat, readying himself as Asquith sat back down. When Speaker Peel announced that debate for the Education Bill would now commence, he stood up, but Peel’s gaze moved right past him, and when the Speaker called on his colleague, Colonel Forrester, Jamie sat back down.
He glanced again at his notes, but as Forrester began talking about demographics, budgetary needs too long ignored, and how little had been spent on educating the lower classes in the past—words very similar, in fact, to the ones he himself had composed—Jamie knew why his speech dissatisfied him. It was pedantic, it was dull, it had no heart. What was the point of it?
Hell, he thought as Forrester sat down and he stood up and Peel called on a member of the opposition, what was the point of anything he was doing here?
He sat back down and turned his head, looking up at the Ladies’ Gallery. He spied Amanda at once, for the teal blue of her walking dress was plainly visible through the brass grillwork. She was in the front row, he noticed, the boys flanking her. He squinted, and when he did, he could make out her face—a fractured view, to be sure, but that didn’t matter, because her piquant features and deep, murky eyes were always vivid in his mind.
There were mysteries in those eyes of hers, mysteries a man would need an entire lifetime to uncover.
A lifetime, he thought, the word piercing him right through the chest like an arrow. His lifetime.
Suddenly, Jamie felt as if the entire world was slipping sideways, turning over, and cracking apart, reshaping itself into something else, something new and unforeseen.
The life he’d had with Pat was gone and would not come back. He’d scorned that brutal truth, he’d raged against it, he’d wept over it, and finally, at last, he’d come to accept it. Resigned, he had trudged on, moving toward the future for the sake of his children, but it was a future that to his heart and mind had seemed bleak and dim, colorless and without joy.
But suddenly, he could see a different future. For the first time in three years, he could see color and light. He could see hope. He could see love.
As if from a great distance, he heard the Liberal MP on the opposite side of the chamber fall silent, and tearing his gaze from the gallery, Jamie looked at the Speaker’s Chair and stood up.
Strangely, he knew Peel was going to call on him even before the other man did so, and with a nod of acknowledgment, he turned away just long enough to drop his notes on the seat behind him. Notes weren’t necessary, because he knew exactly what he was going to talk about and it wasn’t the words he’d written down. He was going to talk about the future.
Chapter 15
Jamie, Amanda decided, was touched in the head. He’d told her his speech was rubbish, but it wasn’t. Not at all.
When he spoke of the Members’ duty to the children of Britain, even her half-American heart soared with pride. When he spoke of the Members’ obligation to their posterity, her eyes stung. And when he voiced his prayer for a safe, secure future, she prayed for it as well.
It was an inspired speech, eloquent and moving, and she knew she wasn’t the only one who thought so. When she glanced over the room, she noticed that no one was talking. There were no heads bent together for whispered comments, no jeering or laughter from the opposition. The room was pin-drop silent. Heads nodded in quiet agreement on his side of the chamber and in tacit acknowledgment on the other side. When he sat down, not one Member of the opposition stood up to counter his remarks. When the Speaker moved for a vote, the bill was moved forward to committee by a substantial margin.
“Papa is really good at this, isn’t he, Mrs. Seton?” Colin whispered as the Speaker moved on to the next piece of legislation.
“Indeed, he is.” She stood up and gestured to the door behind them. “We’d best leave him to it and go home. It’s nearly dinnertime.”
“Can we come see Papa speak again?” Owen asked as they went down the stairs.
“If your father is willing, of course we can.”
They paused by the cloakroom once again to retrieve their coats. “Shall we take a taxi home?” she asked as she buttoned Colin into his mackintosh. “Or the train?”
“The train?” they echoed in unison.
Amanda straightened, glancing from Colin to Owen and back again. “What?” she asked, laughing at their surprised faces. “Haven’t you ever ridden in a train before?”
They both shook their heads, their blue eyes wide as saucers, but it was Colin who replied. “Not in London,” he said, and she laughed again.
“Well, then,” she said as she wrapped Owen in his mackintosh, “we have to take the train now, don’t we?”
Amanda donned her own cloak, then took one boy by each hand, led them across Westminster Hall, and out through the exit. But before she could turn them in the direction of Charing Cross, the closest station, she heard a voice calling to her.
“Amanda? Amanda, is that you?”
She slowed her steps, turning her head as a slim, dark-haired man hurried toward her across New Palace Yard, and at the sight of his face, she came to an abrupt stop, a move that compelled the boys to halt as well.
“Kenneth?” She let go of the boys and turned around, staring in astonished dismay as the man who’d called her name halted in front of her.
Six million people living in London, she thought wildly, and she had to encounter the very one who’d ruined her, shamed her, and broken her heart. What a rum thing life was.
When he tipped his hat and bowed, she felt a strange sense of unreality, as if she was watching one of those newfangled moving picture shows. He seemed flat and unidimensional, not the least bit real. When he straightened, the smile beneath his small, perfectly groomed mustache was so agreeable and charming, she wondered if he’d simply forgotten his ruination of her, or if he simply assumed she’d forgiven it. Or perhaps he thought there was nothing to forgive.
“How smashing it is to see you, Amanda. You look more beautiful than ever.” His voice held all the warmth of those days together in Kent, halcyon days she’d thought at the time, and yet, what she felt now was so different from what she’d felt then that even Amanda was startled.
How handsome he is, she thought. And how little it moves me.
“What are you doing at Westminster?” she asked. “You’ve never been political.”
“I am now. It’s a ghastly business, but I’ve taken my seat in the Lords. My father died last spring. Surely you heard?”
She hadn’t, but then, it wasn’t as if she’d been keeping track. Kenneth Halsbury’s life had ceased to be of any interest to her ages ago. Suppressing the rather petty desire to point that out, she took a deep breath and said the expected, conventional thing instead. “I’m so sorry.”
He glanced at the boys, then back at her, still smiling. “I see you have champions to the left and right of you.”
Her own smile was equally pleasant. “But none in front of me.”
A flush came into his cheeks, her only indication her shot had gone home.
“How do you know Mrs. Seton?” demanded Colin, his voice fierce and protective and displaying that even at the age of ten, he was far more perceptive at discerning the true character of people than she had been at twenty-six. What a humbling thought.
“Mrs. Seton?” he echoed, his brows rising with a soupcon of mockery as he gave her the title of a married woman.
She opened her mouth to make excuses and depart, but he turned to Colin before she had the chance. “Mrs. Seton and I are old friends.” He looked at her again. “Aren’t we, Amanda?”
; “Friends?” She gave a wild little laugh of disbelief. “Hardly.”
“Well, acquaintances, then, if you prefer. Speaking of acquaintances, aren’t you going to introduce me?”
She didn’t want to, but he’d put her in the awkward position of being uncivil if she refused. To avoid an introduction now, she’d have to cut him and turn her back, and given that he knew her for who she really was, she reminded herself that it was wiser not to antagonize him, especially since it would serve no purpose, and she reluctantly performed introductions. “Boys, this is Lord Halsbury—sorry,” she corrected at once, striving to remember his late father’s title. “Lord Notting. My lord, may I present Baron Knaresborough, and Mr. Owen St. Clair.”
“Knaresborough? St. Clair? Ah, yes, of course.” Kenneth laughed. “Earl Kenyon’s famous boys.” He bowed. “How do you do?”
“Do you know our father?” Owen asked.
“Of course. We met at Cambridge. He was quite wild in those days, as I recall, always getting into scrapes.” He returned his attention to Amanda, but though his smile was pleasant, something in it made her stiffen. “He’s turned his life around nicely, it seems. So clever of him to marry a duke’s sister, wasn’t it? It salvaged his respectability, got him back in his father’s good graces, opened all sorts of doors for him.”
“I’m sure,” Amanda said politely, glancing past him, hoping he’d take the hint. “Well,” she began, preparing to make the excuse to depart, “we really must—”
“And now, he’s one of the party’s most promising members, with the potential of a brilliant political career ahead of him.”
He was watching her as he spoke, still pleasant and smiling, and yet, beneath the complimentary words, she sensed a definite malice. But why should Kenneth feel any malice toward Jamie? Or toward her, for that matter? Two years had passed, after all. And he hadn’t wanted her anyway when all was said and done. He’d made that fact painfully clear, to her and everyone else.
“It would be a shame,” he went on slowly, his smile widening, “if he blotted his copybook in some way. Wouldn’t that be a shame, Mrs. Seton?”
She sucked in a sharp breath. The malice in his eyes was obvious now, but she still couldn’t pinpoint the cause. He might be thinking there was something more between her and Jamie than employer and nanny, but so what? Why should he care? Granted, after he’d laughed at the idea of marrying her, she’d refused his suggestion of a more sordid arrangement, but that wasn’t cause enough for him to make trouble for a fellow peer. Even Kenneth wouldn’t do something like that, surely.
But as Amanda tried to reassure herself with that thought, she nonetheless felt a pang of fear because the look in Kenneth’s eyes defied reassurance.
She swallowed hard and forced herself to reply. “It’s a shame when scandal hurts anyone,” she said, her gaze steady, her voice icily polite. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Lord Notting, it grows late, and we need to be on our way.”
“Of course. But,” he added before she could move to depart, “we really must catch up, my dear. I shall call on you tomorrow,” he added as she opened her mouth to refuse. “We can talk about old times. Perhaps we could even . . .” He paused, his faint, knowing smile becoming a definite smirk. “Discuss the possibility of new times? The post I once offered you might still be open, if you’re interested?”
“She isn’t!” Colin said before she could reply. “She’s got a post already, as our nanny.”
“Nanny?” Kenneth echoed and looked at her, making no effort to hide his amusement. “You could be so much more, Amanda.”
She gave a laugh of scorn and disbelief. “I refused your offer once before. Why would I accept it now?”
“Well, now that the old man’s gone, I can afford to be much more generous than I was able to be then. And you may soon be in need of employment. It’s amazing how quickly gossip can spread, my dear.”
She inhaled sharply, appreciating the threat. “How kind you are to be so concerned for my well-being,” she said with biting sarcasm. “But I must once again decline.”
“The Commons is an elected body, you know,” he went on, his silky voice making Amanda’s stomach twist with dread. “It’s not like the Lords. In the Commons, one breath of scandal can ruin an MP’s entire career.”
Oh God, Amanda thought, feeling sick. Oh God.
“It could destroy everything he wants to achieve,” Kenneth went on as she strove for calm. “It could hurt his good name, his family—”
“What scandal?” Colin cut in. “Our father’s not involved in any scandal!”
Amanda squeezed the boy’s hand tightly. “Lord Notting is speaking in general terms, Colin,” she explained, keeping her gaze locked with Kenneth’s. “He’s not referring to any scandal specifically involving your father.”
Kenneth leaned closer to her. “Not yet anyway,” he murmured, his voice just loud enough for only her to hear, then he straightened away from her and went on, “Having turned his life around so admirably, I’m sure Lord Kenyon wouldn’t want to see all his good work undone now.”
“I’m sure,” she managed. “But as I said, we must be going.”
“Of course.” He bowed. “Forgive me for detaining you, and please do keep my offer in mind.”
Before she could reply that she’d rather swallow corrosive acid, he tipped his hat again and walked on.
She turned to stare after him, powerful emotions surging with her. Anger that he would threaten her, especially in front of the boys. Regret that she’d wasted herself on a man like him. Bafflement that she’d ever fancied herself in love with him. Repulsion at the thought of what he wanted from her, and bewilderment as to why he still seemed to want it.
Despite all the chaotic emotions swirling around inside her, one thing was clear. She could not allow Jamie and the boys to be tainted by her mistakes.
Her heart lurched, twisting with pain at the knowledge of what she must do. Her soul rebelled, frantic to find another way. Her mind, however, knew with brutal clarity that there was no other way. She had to leave.
“I don’t like that man.”
Colin’s voice broke into her tumultuous thoughts, reminding her she was standing here as if she’d been turned to a pillar of salt. “Your instincts are sound, Colin,” she assured the boy. “Lord Notting’s a rotter.”
“He said he was your friend.”
“He isn’t, and he never will be.” She glanced back over her shoulder, but thankfully, he had turned at the corner and vanished. “I’d rather be friends with Lucifer.”
The House adjourned just past midnight, but because of his success in persuading the Members to send the bill forward, others in the party insisted on standing him a drink, and it was closer to one o’clock by the time he entered the house on Upper Brook Street.
The house was dark and quiet, indicating that everyone, including his new valet, had gone to bed, but after Jamie had lit a lamp and mounted the stairs, he realized that he’d been mistaken, at least in regard to one member of his household.
“Amanda?” he asked, stopping in surprise as she rose from one of the chairs that furnished the wide, shallow gallery at the top of the stairs and came toward him out of the shadows. “What are you doing sitting here in the dark? In fact, what are you doing up at all? Do you know how late it is?”
“I was waiting for you.”
“At this hour?” He felt a jolt of alarm. “Why? Has something happened? Is one of the boys ill?”
“No, no,” she answered at once. “I just . . . I wanted . . . I needed to see you.” She paused in front of him and lifted her face, her eyes dark as ebony in the circle of lamplight around them. “That was a fine speech you gave today. I can’t believe you thought it was rubbish.”
She’d waited up for him until one in the morning to tell him she liked his speech? “It wasn’t the one I’d intended to give,” he muttered, not quite sure what else to say. “At the last minute, I tossed out the one I’d written and gave my s
peech extempore.”
“You mean you just pulled those beautiful words out of thin air?”
“Well . . .” He paused, considering how to explain. “Let’s just say it was a speech from the heart.”
“That makes you a rare commodity in politics. I think you’ll go far in your career. I’m not . . .” She paused again and took a deep breath. “I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
“That’s nice to hear, but I can’t believe you’ve been waiting up for me all this time so that we could discuss my political future.”
“I said I wanted to see you.” Something in her voice quickened his pulses, and when she edged closer to him, pulled the lamp from his hand, and set it on the table by the stairs, his heart began to race, and when she spoke again, hope sparked to life within him. “I never said I wanted to talk.”
He hardly dared to believe what he was hearing, but then she rose on her toes and pressed her mouth to his, and the arousal he’d been suppressing for weeks flared up like kindling set alight. But aware of what had happened to her in her previous post, he strove to contain what he felt, for he didn’t want to take anything for granted.
“If this is how you intend to react every time I give a successful speech in the House,” he murmured, his lips brushing lightly against hers as he spoke, “I can see I shall have to up my oratory game.”
She laughed softly, her breath warm against his mouth, and when she slid her arms around his neck, pressed her body close to his, and kissed him again, the pleasure of it was so great, it nearly knocked him off his feet. Despite that, he wasn’t quite ready to capitulate. “What are you saying, Amanda?”
“Can’t you guess? After all,” she added, pressing kisses to his chin, his jaw, and the edges of his mouth, “I’m not flinging myself at you in this shameless way because I want to have a conversation.”
Governess Gone Rogue Page 24
