by Anne Herries
‘You think not?’ Shearne leered at her, a cold malice in his eyes. ‘I would not be denied if I truly wished to have either of you, but to tell the truth neither is worth the trouble. I am after more enticing prey.’
‘If you mean Miss Langton... I think you despicable and shall certainly inform her of your true nature, when next we meet. Perhaps I should write to her...’
His hand shot out, gripping her wrist so tightly that it was all she could do to stop from crying out. She felt a cold fear grip her as she saw hatred in his eyes and knew she had made an enemy.
‘If you do not allow us to pass, I shall call for help, sir.’
‘You are a sight too proud for your own good and one of these days...but you are not worth the trouble. I shall allow you to pass, but remember, if one word passes your lips concerning me to Miss Langton, I shall take my revenge.’
‘You do not frighten me, sir.’
‘Do I not?’ For a moment the look in his eyes was so evil that Amanda felt faint, but then a gentleman crossed the road towards them and he flung her away from him. ‘You are less than nothing to me—just a fat little frump—you and that mouse you take about with you.’
‘We are much obliged to you, sir,’ Amanda replied, holding back sharper retorts for she had already said too much. ‘We shall bid you good day, sir. Come, Jane, we must not keep this...person dallying.’ She gave him a look of disdain that was calculated to make him squirm.
Seeing the flash of fury in his eyes, Amanda wished she had not made her tone quite so insulting. She had implied that he was not a gentleman and, a little to her surprise, it seemed to have touched him on the raw.
‘Think yourself fortunate that I have other business, Miss Hamilton. Had I the leisure I might take the time to teach you a lesson...’
Deciding that retreat was the better part of valour at this moment, Amanda propelled Jane past him, ignoring the temptation to tell him that nothing he could do would tempt her to spend a moment longer than necessary in his company.
‘Oh, Amanda,’ Jane whispered once they were safely out of reach. ‘Ought you to have answered him so? I think he is a cruel man. He would delight in punishing you, if he could.’
‘I do not fear that slimy creature,’ Amanda said. ‘Besides, I have only to tell Major Brockley what was said and he would...’
‘What?’ Jane looked at her curiously, but she shook her head.
‘I believe the marquis to be in need of a lesson himself,’ she said. ‘If I thought either of us truly in danger, I should beg Major Brockley to help, but I do not think him interested in either of us. He needs neither fortune nor wife—and if he did he would more likely look at Miss Langton than either of us. Indeed, I fear she may be in some danger...’
Amanda felt a chill at her nape. The marquis was the kind of man who would look for revenge if anyone offended him. Phipps had told her that Brock hated him and there must be a good reason for that... It might be as well to tell Phipps when she next saw him that the marquis had tried to intimidate them. However, in another ten days or so she would be leaving town and would probably never see Shearne again.
Chapter Four
Although they met at a card party and again at a dinner, with readings of poetry afterwards, Amanda did not have the opportunity to speak to Phipps privately until the morning of her own dance. He called then to bring her a posy of beautiful white rosebuds. She happened to be at the top of the stairs when he was admitted and went down to greet him and take the flowers from his own hand.
‘It was so kind of you to bring me these,’ she said. ‘As it happens they will be perfect, for my gown this evening is pink and white. Thank you so much, sir.’
‘You will save me two dances,’ Phipps said with a caressing smile that made her heart jump for joy. ‘You are looking very well, Miss Hamilton. Are you anticipating this evening with pleasure?’
‘Yes, very much,’ Amanda replied. ‘I think it may be our last big engagement before we leave for the country. You know we are to stay with Lord Armstrong and the countess for another few days, but I think we shall attend only small affairs, though the countess will give two evenings of music and cards herself.’
‘I hope I shall be invited?’
‘I was asked who I would like to invite, sir. I gave the countess your name, also Major Brock’s and Jane Field’s. Jane is to stay with me after we leave town, just for a week or so...’
‘I am glad you made friends with Miss Field. I think her a nice girl and Brock likes her. He was angry when Shearne frightened her, you know.’
‘I meant to tell you,’ Amanda said. ‘We encountered him in the street a few days ago and his behaviour towards her was predatory—and to me hostile, because I’m afraid I gave him a set-down. He made what I considered a threat towards Miss Langton and I said something unwise. Indeed, I warned him that I should inform her of his true nature when I next see her—I fear I may have made an enemy of the marquis.’
‘And do you intend to say anything to Miss Langton?’
‘When I see her I shall attempt to warn her...but one must be careful of such things. To write hints of what I suspect in a letter would be slander.’
‘No, you must not do that, for you have no proof.’
‘That was my own thought, but when I see her I may hint a little. I spoke thoughtlessly, out of anger at his manner towards us, and I think it was unwise.’
‘If he should do anything at all to upset you, Miss Hamilton, you have only to tell me or Brock.’
‘I should not wish to cause trouble for anyone. Mama did not invite the marquis this evening—and I dare say I shall not see him again before we leave for the country.’
‘I heard that he was leaving town for his estates this weekend. If he took himself off and never returned, it would not be a bad thing,’ Phipps said. ‘Had I known he’d upset you, I should have given him a thrashing.’
Amanda pealed with laughter. ‘Please do nothing of the sort, sir. I fear you would make an enemy for life. I may have piqued his pride, but he will soon forget me—if you took a horsewhip to him he would not cease to look for his revenge.’
‘I am more than a match for his ilk.’
‘But I could not bear to cause harm to you...’ Amanda blushed, for she had said too much and she saw his gaze narrow in thought. ‘Or Major Brockley either. It would be very foolish of either of you to call him out for such a trifle.’
‘Oh, Brock has his own reasons. No, I may not tell you, for it is not my secret,’ Phipps said and smiled at her, warmth in his eyes. ‘But if Shearne harmed you, I could not answer for his safety.’ He bowed over her hand, then raised it to his lips. ‘I look forward to our dances, Miss Hamilton.’
Amanda bid him a shy farewell, hardly daring to look at him lest she betray herself further. Was it her imagination, or had he grown more particular in his manner to her? She had tried not to let him or anyone else see how strong her partiality for him was, but she feared she had let the mask slip just for a moment.
Oh, well, if he had guessed her secret it could not be helped. It would either bring him up to scratch or make him retreat in good order. Amanda was not certain which she would find more painful—to be asked to marry, because she had a fortune, or to lose all hope of the man she loved.
* * *
Phipps was thoughtful as he left Amanda’s house and continued on his way to an appointment with Brock at one of the clubs they both patronised. He had from the start sensed that she liked him more than most of the gentlemen that formed her court, though of late she had shown a certain friendship towards Lord Armstrong. She tolerated Lord Johnston, but there were others she had a warm rapport with—including a couple of older gentlemen who had no need of her fortune and who, Phipps suspected, liked her very well.
Was he in fact arrogant to believe that she might accept a proposal of marriage from him? His thoughts on the matter veered from being confident to the realisation that he would be presumptuous to ask her. He ha
d nothing to offer...nothing that a dozen other gentlemen could give her. What right had he, a second son, with no prospects to offer for a girl with all Miss Hamilton’s advantages? Perhaps she wasn’t as beautiful as Miss Langton, but few girls were. Phipps had noticed of late how Amanda’s eyes always had the glow of laughter, a way of teasing that was vastly pleasing, and her soft curves felt rather pleasant in his arms.
The fact that she’d included Brock on her list of friends to be invited to the countess’s house meant little. She was on easy terms with him, but Phipps knew that he had no intention of making her an offer. His main rivals—if he had intentions towards her—were Armstrong and Lord Johnston, but he believed he could dismiss the latter.
When she spoke of Shearne’s hostility toward her, Phipps had felt oddly protective. It would take little provocation from the marquis to have him issue a challenge. Should the man actually seek to harm her...? Phipps frowned, because he did not know why he should feel that quiver down his spine, or the coldness at his neck.
He had no liking for Shearne, though the man was accepted everywhere. Had Brock chosen to reveal what he knew, Shearne would speedily find himself being ostracised by the people he claimed as friends. He was not particularly popular with the gentlemen, but he easily charmed most ladies. However, that would change if they knew what he truly was.
Brock would never betray a confidence. Phipps knew the truth only because he’d happened to be staying with his friend when the scandal was narrowly avoided. Brock had a lifelong friend, a certain Miss Mary Smith, a girl of some beauty, but very shy. She had been barely sixteen when Shearne came upon her in Lord Brockley’s woods, where she had been gathering primroses on her way to visit Brock’s old nurse.
What had happened then had been so shocking that it did not bear repeating, especially to a lady. The marquis had tried to seduce poor Mary with sweet words, but meeting with a firm refusal, he’d pursued her through the woods, raped and beaten her, leaving her, after his brutal attack, to lie in a state of near unconsciousness until Brock had stumbled on her some minutes later.
Mary had been unable to whisper more than a name before losing her senses. She had fallen ill, lying sick and silent in her bed for weeks. When she did leave her room, she had walked about like a wraith and a shadow of her former self. She would tell her anxious parents nothing, giving Brock only the barest details, and begging him never to reveal them to another.
Brock had given his word, while vowing to teach the marquis a lesson he would not forget. He’d tracked down his quarry and thrashed him with his whip, leaving the marquis to crawl home and lick his wounds. When he had recovered, Shearne had left England for the Continent and not been seen for some years, but the enmity between the two men was as fierce as ever. Brock had been unable to repeat the story that would have seen the marquis shunned by decent society, for the girl he protected had retired to a nunnery to live out her life in solitude and seclusion.
‘That devil ruined Mary’s life,’ Brock had told Phipps once in a rage. ‘Yet he flaunts himself in society and I can do nothing to stop him without betraying Mary’s secret. If I could, I would shoot him down like the dog he is, but that would bring me down to his level. Instead of thrashing him, I ought to have challenged him to a duel—but the coward would not meet me.’
‘He thought he would lose,’ Phipps said. ‘Yet your skill with the pistols is not as good as Jack Delsey’s or mine. Would you like me to call him out for you, old fellow?’
‘Had you a good reason for doing so, I should be glad of it, for that would not involve Mary, nor yet endanger her secret,’ Brock said, ‘though whatever we do we cannot give Mary back her life.’
‘Does that hurt you so much?’
‘It hurts me that a beautiful shy creature should be so hurt that she can no longer bear to face the world,’ Brock told him. ‘She was as a sister to me, Phipps. It was not a romance between us, yet I loved her. Something died in me after she went into the convent. I felt that I had failed her—and I can never deserve to be happy. I should have seen Mary to her home that day, but I never expected that she would come to harm in our woods.’
Phipps understood his friend’s guilt. It was the memory of what had happened to Mary that had made him spring to Jane’s defence that day at Richmond. He had protected a girl he scarcely knew, even though it recharged the enmity between him and Shearne.
If Phipps told him of Amanda’s encounter with the marquis, Brock was likely to accost the man and force a duel on him. It might be better for the moment to let sleeping dogs lie. Shearne was going out of town and by the time he returned Amanda and Jane would have left for the country...or might even be planning their weddings.
That thought brought Phipps back full circle. Did he mean to make Amanda Hamilton an offer or not?
He had given much thought to the matter in the past weeks, but was still uncertain. Phipps thought that of all the heiresses he’d met that Season, he would prefer to have Amanda as his wife than any other. She had a lively wit, a ready smile and a generous heart. Of late her popularity had been rising and Phipps had wondered if he’d let his chance of her slip. Lord Armstrong’s manner towards her was quite definitely that of a suitor, perhaps because he thought her a perfect companion for his invalid mother. He might be content to marry for his mother’s sake, and the hope of heirs...and yet he seemed to like her very well.
If the man were in love with Amanda, Phipps would be doing her a disservice if he proposed too soon. He liked her very much, had come to find her excellent company—and there was that odd feeling of wanting to protect her from Shearne.
What a fool he was not to know his own mind! Phipps laughed at himself, for surely it was an easy decision to make? Amanda might be a little plump, but she was in all other ways a perfect wife for any man: an attractive smile, kind and generous to her friends. Was he so hard to please? Some ladies became plump after bearing children—and men sometimes took a mistress in town if it pleased them, leaving their plain comfortable wife in the country to care for the children.
No, he would not serve Amanda such a turn! The idea revolted him. If he were to ask her, he would be good to her and cause her no harm. In Phipps’s opinion, it was all very well for a single man to keep his opera dancer, but marriage should be for the comfort and happiness of both.
What could he offer her that would compensate her for all he would gain? To be always feeling himself obliged to his wife was something he could not quite bring himself to accept. If he married Amanda for her money alone, he would be a kept man—and much less a man in his own estimation.
If there were only a way that he could be of true value to her...
* * *
Amanda’s dance was one of the last big events of the Season. Lady Hamilton had planned it so, hoping that by this time she could announce her daughter’s engagement, but unfortunately no one who had approached the girl’s father had been accepted. It did cross her mama’s mind that Amanda might have discouraged more than one suitor, but as a proper gentleman would first approach the father of the girl he wished to marry, she supposed that only fortune-hunters had made the attempt and been discouraged. Much as she would have liked to see her daughter happily married, Lady Hamilton would rather take her daughter home still unattached than see her fall for a rogue.
When Amanda emerged from her room that evening, Lady Hamilton was a little surprised to see how well the girl looked. Wearing a gown of white silk with an overdress of pink gauze, a band of pale pink embroidered with red rosebuds about her waist, and puffed sleeves, she looked rather pretty, thought the fond mother. Several unnecessary knots of ribbons had been removed from the skirt and Amanda’s hair had been swept into a cluster of curls at the back of her head, held by pearl pins to match the bracelet about her wrist and her eardrops. The curls were a new style suggested by Miss Field and suited Amanda well for they made her neck look longer.
Was she imagining it, or did her daughter appear slimmer than she had
been before they came to London? Lady Hamilton could not be sure, but something had improved Amanda’s looks; her skin looked clearer and her eyes shone, and her mama was grateful for it. Perhaps that young man the girl liked too much for her own good might speak this evening? He really was a very provoking man, for if he did not mean to speak, why was he always at Amanda’s side, paying her very flattering attention?
Lady Hamilton wondered if she ought to have given Lieutenant Phipps a nudge before now. She had thought about it, for she was well aware of the reason for Amanda’s attraction to many of the young gentlemen and Phipps was but a second son. Amanda’s fortune was not to be sneezed at, and if he were hanging out for an heiress why not her own obliging daughter?
Compared to the beautiful Miss Langton, even a doting mama could not think Amanda much of a lure, but the beauty had retired from the fray for this Season. There were other heiresses, of course, but none with quite such a large fortune, and Lady Hamilton had truly expected to find herself planning her daughter’s wedding before the summer was out.
However, she had given her daughter no hint of her frustration and went to her with a smile of welcome on her lips, kissing her cheeks and exclaiming over her scent.
‘What a lovely fragrance, dearest! Is it a new perfume?’
‘Yes, Mama. Jane and I discovered it when we were shopping and I decided to purchase it.’
Mama nodded her approval. ‘I think Jane has benefited from your friendship, dearest, but she has certainly been a help to you, too.’
‘I have become very fond of her,’ Amanda said. ‘She is always so shy in company, but when we are together she is so bright—and her taste is excellent. This dress never fitted me so well or looked so good. I should have sent it back to the seamstress to be altered, for it looked too fussy and the bodice never fit properly, but Jane saw just what it needed.’
