“I was thinking quite the same thing, My Lord,” Amanda said politely.
The rest of the introductions were made by the Dowager Marchioness, and then they all sat down at the white table. The experimental cake was so dark it appeared black. Heather dug into the cake with relish and, with chocolate crumbs in the corners of her lips, she declared it an unequivocal success.
“Unequivocal!” the Dowager Marchioness exclaimed. “That’s Miss O’Neil’s work, isn’t it? Lord Ethelred, your daughter is most lucky to have such an esteemed governess expanding her vocabulary.”
“Most lucky, indeed,” he said, smiling across at Amanda.
“Ah, yes, how is the governessing going, Miss O’Neil?” Lord Brubrun said. “Mother wrote to me extensively about your decision to go into the line of work.”
“She was displeased,” Amanda said, smiling gently.
Lord Brubrun chuckled. “Well, it’s good for somebody in her life to refuse to do her bidding every once in a while.”
“I hear that her son fills that need quite readily,” Amanda replied lightly, her face brightening as she smiled wider.
This easy, instantaneous rapport between Amanda and Lord Brubrun set Joseph’s nerves on edge.
“Perhaps a bit too sweet for breakfast,” Joseph said, stabbing a bite of the cake with his fork.
“Pardon?” the Dowager Marchioness said, leaning toward him.
“The cake. I can’t deny the unequivocal success, but perhaps it’s a bit too rich for so early in the day.”
The Dowager Marchioness nodded, the feather in her lace cap bobbing madly. “True. Still, it was best to test it while it was warm.”
His disappointment at having to share Amanda’s attention waned when he saw how happy she and Heather seemed, and Joseph did his best to relax.
Chapter 21
Amanda had known who the man in the breakfast parlor was even before he was introduced. As soon as she laid eyes on Lord Brubrun, the resemblance to his mother was unmistakable. There were those same bright, piercing eyes. The same disarming smile. Even the same posture—this sort of arrogant sway of the shoulders that might have been intimidating on a person of less amiability.
So, this is Lord Brubrun.
As soon as they spoke to each other, Amanda felt comfortable with him. It was like meeting a long-lost cousin. Or even a brother. The easiness of his smile and his tone intimated to Amanda that Lord Brubrun felt the same. Although he grinned at her and teased lightly, there wasn’t really any sense of flirtation. She knew when she was being flirted with. Unless it was Joseph doing the flirting, it tended to make her feel on edge and uncomfortable in her own skin.
It was a bit of a strange thing, however, to meet someone for the first time but already knowing so much about him. Although they had never spoken, she already knew his age, occupation, and favorite past time.
He was five-and-twenty, though he looked younger thanks to his slender build and bright, curious eyes. His occupation was somewhat in dispute. His mother called him a spoiled libertine, but according to Italian society, he was a burgeoning painter. His favorite past time? Well, Amanda had it on good authority that the gentleman had a right passion for dancing.
Curiosity ate at her, and she wondered if there was a polite way to ask him what information he had gathered about herself.
What does your mother tell you about me, I wonder?
She asked Lord Brubrun with her eyes, but he didn’t seem to understand.
Glancing across the table at Joseph, Amanda’s smile waned. He looked decidedly uncomfortable. His eyes kept darting conspicuously from Lord Brubrun to herself.
He’s jealous!
She almost laughed but managed to stifle it. When Joseph made some gloomy comment about the cake being too sweet, she couldn’t help but reach her toe across to tap his shin under the table.
He looked startled by the touch at first, but realizing who had done it, he looked up at her and his posture relaxed. The hidden smile worked its way back into the corner of his mouth.
Soon I will steal a moment alone with you and show you that there is no need for jealousy.
The last time he had kissed her was the night before. He had come to the nursery on the pretense of checking on Lady Heather and being sure that her things were packed correctly. Lady Heather was asleep already by then, and before he had left for his own chamber again, he had taken Amanda into the dark hallway and kissed her. She could still feel the weight of his arm around the small of her back, pulling her body against the wall of his chest. That kiss has tasted faintly of the brandy he had after dinner, and she had felt drunk on it.
Looking across at him now, she noticed the way his hair curled at the nape of his neck and remembered how it felt to slide her fingers into those dark curls.
Warmth spread over her, into her fingers and toes. The sun was streaming into the room and the whole world felt bathed in lightness and hope. She had no idea what would come of this affair with Lord Ethelred. For that was all it was, an affair. Very likely, it would lead to nowhere. She harbored no illusion that he would make her his wife, having no family name or dowry of her own.
She didn’t care. At that moment, she had a family. She had the Dowager Marchioness, who cared for her like an aunt. Lord Brubrun who felt like a brother. Lady Heather whom she loved as her own daughter. And Lord Ethelred. Joseph. Her friend, her lover, and the axis on which that sunny world seemed to turn.
And that cake.
Heavens, this cake.
It really was too rich for so early in the day. She took another bite and washed it down with the familiar, sweet floral tea that the Dowager Marchioness favored.
* * *
The Dowager Marchioness seemed quite pleased with herself as she gave them a tour around her London Estate. Her manor in Dublin was a sprawling affair, with dozens of bedrooms and treasures from all over the world decorating the space.
Her London home was more compact, but none the less opulent for that.
“I considered a larger manor, you know. But in the end, I decided that I would sacrifice space to be closer to the front lines.”
“Front lines?” Amanda chuckled at the martial reference.
“London society can be a battle, Miss O’Neil. And you know how I like to jump into the fray. Here, I am in the midst of everything, and I can keep a closer eye on the developments.”
“A veritable modern-day Boudica,” Lord Brubrun said with teasing solemnity as he trailed behind his mother.
Amanda laughed.
“Had I been born a man, I’d have made a great general,” the Dowager Marchioness continued, undaunted. “But, alas, we make do with the life we are dealt.”
Amanda glanced at Lord Brubrun behind the Dowager Marchioness’s back and he rolled his eyes at her. When they both started laughing, the Dowager Marchioness turned around.
“Oh, good. I knew you two would make fast friends. You see? I have a knack for these things.”
Amanda looked at Lord Brubrun and he looked at her, and something about him made her want to laugh again. Yes, the Dowager Marchioness did have a knack for putting people together. Though Amanda had a hunch that the old lady was angling for a more romantic relationship to blossom between herself and Lord Brubrun. She knew right away that such a thing would not happen, and she sensed that Lord Brubrun felt the same way.
They were shown to their rooms. Amanda would, for the time being, no longer be in a small room off the side of a nursery. Her room was spacious, containing a parlor all to herself as well as a more private bedroom. Her things had already been brought up, she noticed.
Lady Heather would stay right next door. And Joseph in the room across the hall.
Her heart rate quickened at the thought of him sleeping so close. She looked over at him and caught him glancing at her as well. Perhaps he was thinking the same thing?
That afternoon, the Dowager Marchioness accepted calls from various people about London. Lawyers and actresses
and artists and politicians. Amanda’s head swam at the array of people, from all different walks of life. The Dowager Marchioness seemed to thrive on the attention, and soon a dinner was planned for that very evening.
“It’s all a bit of a whirlwind, isn’t it?” Amanda asked.
She, Joseph, Lord Brubrun, and Lady Heather had excused themselves while the Dowager Marchioness visited with a Sir Lionel in the main drawing room. The garden behind the house was not the sprawling affair of a country garden, but stately all the same. Lady Heather ran ahead of the adults, eager to stretch her legs.
“I’ve been here two days and already met more people than I think I could possibly remember,” Lord Brubrun said, folding his hands behind his back. They walked in a row, Amanda in the middle with the gentlemen on either side. “I don’t know how she can hold so many names in her head at once.”
“You’ve been here two days?” Joseph asked. “She didn’t mention you in her letter.”
“These minor details do tend to slip her mind,” Lord Brubrun laughed. “I hope my presence is not an intrusion?”
“Not at all,” Amanda assured him. “Forgive my boldness for saying so, Lord Brubrun, but when we were introduced, I felt at once as if you were almost like a brother to me.”
“It’s not bold at all. I felt the same way. And in the spirit of brotherly affection, I must insist that you dispense with this Lord Brubrun formality. My friends call me Kelly. Only mother calls me Edan, though. Call me by that name, and I am as likely to hide as answer.” As he said this, he offered his arm to Amanda. She took it, sliding her arm through his as she glanced toward Joseph.
He watched her with a subtly possessive glint in his eye. A wariness, still. Knowing in her heart that Kelly was no threat to the hold that Joseph had on her, she allowed herself to enjoy the heat of his jealousy. She would tease him about it later. Her toes curled at the thought that perhaps he would punish her teasing with a more heated kiss.
“Kelly, then,” she answered, “and you may call me Amanda.”
The dinner that the Dowager Marchioness planned for that evening was an impromptu affair, and decidedly informal, despite the dizzying wealth of the guests. Lady Heather was tucked into bed early that evening, tired out from the early morning and traveling, so Amanda had no duties to attend to other than to sit at the table.
Happily, Joseph was seated right next to her. Normally gatherings such as this made her feel the disparity acutely in wealth between herself and the others. The Dowager Marchioness had invited a Duchess, a famous opera singer, and a judge. An odd mix, perhaps, but all seemed to be good friends of the Dowager Marchioness.
Amanda mostly went quiet, answering only when questions were put to her directly. Joseph seemed to notice her hesitancy, and, in fact, he seemed to share it. He had as much right to mix with these sorts of people as anyone, with money and his status, but his personality seemed to shrivel in too much company. His shyness made him even more of a comfort to her, though. Like a kindred spirit.
Just as she was thinking this, she felt a brush against the back of her hand on her lap under the table. Glancing down, she saw that he had reached for her hand. He looked steadily down at his plate still. She lowered her arm into the space between their chairs and their fingers laced together, silently connecting them. It was risky, perhaps. Exposing the nature of their relationship like this might have proven to be a disaster, but no one noticed, and the caress of his fingertips along hers both thrilled and soothed her.
“Miss O’Neil?”
Amanda startled to attention, realizing with horror that the Dowager Marchioness was looking at her expectantly.
“Yes? Terribly sorry, my mind wandered.”
“It does have a tendency to do that, doesn’t it?” the Dowager Marchioness said without antagonism. “Miss O’Neil is a natural poet, you see. Always pondering,” she explained to her guests. “I asked you about Le Nozze di Figaro.”
The Dowager Marchioness’ Italian accent was hardly passable, but she got her meaning across.
“The opera?” Amanda asked.
“Yes, of course, the opera. Didn’t we see it in Dublin two years past?”
Amanda shook her head politely, sliding her hand away from Joseph’s and back safely into her lap.
“No, My Lady. We saw Die Zauberflöte.”
“Oh, that’s right. That’s right. All the better, it will be a first time for us all!”
Amanda suddenly realized that the Dowager Marchioness had just been arranging for them to see the opera singer’s premiere the following evening. Chancing a peek at Joseph, she wondered if he realized how deeply even the touch of his hand affected her, causing her to lose the plot of an entire conversation.
By the time the meal was completed, Amanda was exhausted. She sighed in her seat and saw that Joseph, too, seemed to be wilting. It had been an early morning and an uncommonly full day, and she hoped fervently that soon the other guests would leave, and they would be able to climb the stairs to the bedrooms.
Happily, the guests didn’t tarry too long after eating.
“Will you stay up and play cards?” the Dowager Marchioness asked. The woman seemed to have an endless supply of energy.
Amanda smiled apologetically. “I would love to, My Lady, but I feel that I must lay down before I fall down. It’s been a long day.”
She noticed that both the Dowager Marchioness and Kelly looked disappointed.
“Ah, well. There will be plenty of time for cards during your stay. Lord Ethelred, how about you?”
Joseph shook his head. “I will follow Miss O’Neil’s example and rest.”
“Very well, Edan and I will stay up and practice so that we can best the two of you tomorrow after the opera.”
Amanda and Joseph both laughed rather sleepily.
“We shall see about that, My Lady. I learned from the best, remember.”
“So you did,” the Dowager Marchioness said with a wink. “Goodnight then, my dear. And goodnight to you as well, Lord Ethelred.”
Chapter 22
Taking the stairs together in the darkened house felt like a tremendous relief to Amanda, and she let her feet grow heavy and slow, savoring the quiet after such a day.
“I don’t know how she can stand to have so many people about her all the time,” Joseph said, seeming to mirror her own thoughts.
“Some people naturally thrive in a flurry of activity. I must admit, after spending so much time with her in Dublin, I did begin to acclimate to it. Ethelred Manor has brought me back to myself, though, and I find it all overwhelming again.”
“You don’t find it dull at my home? I underestimated how different it must be to the life you had before you came to me.”
As they walked together, his voice was as soft and gentle as their footfalls.
“Dull?” she asked. “Not at all. It feels like home to me.”
They came to a stop in front of the door behind which Heather slept. He faced her, and Amanda thought that he might touch her, kiss her, something. But he didn’t.
“Let’s check in on her once before bed. Sometimes she doesn’t sleep well in a new place,” he said.
Amanda nodded. They pushed the door open silently and squinted into the darkness, but Lady Heather was fast asleep, her deep steady breathing filling the silence of the room. They closed the door again carefully. Joseph seemed hesitant to say goodnight to her, following Amanda to her own door where she turned around to face him.
“Goodnight, Joseph,” she said in a low voice.
He inhaled slowly. “So, this Lord Brubrun fellow…”
Amanda chuckled. “Lord Brubrun? Oh, you mean Kelly? Dear Kelly. Isn’t he marvelous? He does seem quite taken by me--”
Joseph placed his hand on the door behind Amanda, trapping her between himself and it. Her breath caught in her throat as he tilted his head challengingly to the side.
“You’re teasing me,” he stated.
“You’re jealous,” she said
, grinning up at him.
Joseph bit his lip, casting a dark, furtive glance down the hallway before quickly reaching behind her and opening the door so that she nearly tumbled into her own room. He stepped in after her, shutting the door behind them.
“Joseph, what are y—”
He cut off her surprised protestations by grabbing her by the waist in the darkness of the private parlor and pushing her back against the wall. Her heart raced and her muscled tightened. But it was not in fear. Even while being somewhat manhandled by a man who towered over her and whose body was hard with muscle beneath his finely tailored clothing, fear did not enter into it in the slightest. Exhilaration coursed through her, awakening her body so that her previous fatigue disappeared in an instant.
Seducing The Perfectly Enchanting Marquess (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 15
