by Brenda Joyce
CHAPTER TEN
CLIFF WAS FURIOUS. “Your brother isn’t mad, he is standing right here, and he is not sharing a bed with a seventeen-year-old child.” He stormed into the house, absolutely disbelieving, but then, Rex’s morality had always been excessive and annoying.
In spite of his crutch, his brother followed him inside, just as swiftly. Cliff went into the library and poured himself a drink. Only then did he face his brother. “I have always preferred women a bit older than my own age, as you damn well know,” he added harshly. He slammed down the drink.
“Then you had better think about how you behave with your waif, as anyone with eyes will think as I have,” Rex said calmly, although he seemed very curious.
“You are mad!” Cliff exclaimed. “I am her protector, as she has no one else. And she is not my waif.” He hesitated. “She is my protégée—for the moment.”
Rex began to smile. “You are her protector? She is your protégée? What, exactly, does that mean? And since when have you had a relationship with any woman outside of a bedroom?”
Cliff slammed his glass down on the marble top of the sideboard. “I rescued her from a jeering, bloodthirsty mob. Her father was about to be hanged and a group of boys were throwing stones at her. Had you been there, you would have rescued her, too.”
Rex stared, brows high. “I see you have quite the story to tell. I have all night.”
Cliff began to calm. Besides, he undoubtedly needed his brother’s advice. “There is a hell of a story. Her father was a pirate and she has spent half of her life on the main, cruising for prizes with him.”
Rex was shocked. “Good God! She doesn’t look like a pirate’s murderous wench!”
“She isn’t. She is oddly naive—he never let her witness a battle, and he grounded her when she turned twelve. However, she was raised amongst rowdy rovers and thieves. She was allowed to run freely about Jamaica Island. Before I rescued her at the hanging, I had seen her about, sometimes swimming in a cove, or on a raft, surfing the waves. Everyone knew her as La Sauvage.” He smiled grimly. “She was wild. Now—” He stopped. “Now she is caged up.”
Rex folded his arms, staring. “What does that mean?”
“In a way, I hate what I have done—and it isn’t taking her to bed.” But as he paced, he thought of the dawn after the storm, when he had done everything but take her innocence.
“Really? So you are not flushed with guilt?” Rex asked.
Cliff whirled. “She is a virgin,” he said, stressing the noun.
“And you would know that because…?”
Cliff felt like smashing his brother, just once. “She told me.”
“I see. A suitable subject for a protector and his protégée. By the way, the countess, Lizzie and Eleanor are here. “
Cliff tensed. “Amanda is afraid of society.” He shook his head. “She spent all night beside me in near-hurricane winds, smiling, by God, as if a sea goddess, but she is afraid of the ton’s mockery and scorn. I have brought her to town so she might meet her only living relative. On board my ship, she has been tutored in the social graces. I have never seen anyone more determined to master a subject they have no care for!” He sighed. “I am glad the countess, Lizzie and Eleanor are in residence. If anyone can help Amanda make a successful transformation, it is those three.”
Rex was gaping. “You are trying to transform a pirate’s child into a lady?”
“It seemed the obvious course of action.”
“Of course it did.”
“Knowing she is innocent,” Cliff said sharply, “it is my duty to protect her, especially now, when the rakes in town will swarm after her, thinking her an easy mark.”
“Of course it is your duty. My charming, rakehell, conscienceless brother, infamous for his seductions of courtesans and countesses, is now the champion of a pirate’s daughter. This will be a very interesting Season, I think. You do plan to stay on?” Rex was now laughing.
“I promised her I would secure her future,” he said gruffly. “I see I am entertaining you!”
Rex widened his eyes, feigning innocence. “I am hardly amused…I am in shock, frankly. You are going to secure her future, too?”
“That is correct. She has no one else.” Annoyed again, Cliff went to the door and closed it. “Actually, her mother is here in London, Rex. She has come to town to be reunited with the woman she believes is married to her father. Amanda has been told her mother is Dulcea Straithferne Carre and that she resides at Belford House. Do you know Lady Dulcea Belford?”
Rex was surprised. He limped to the sofa and sat. “I am sorry. I know of her and I see where you go. You think her mother is Lady Belford…which makes Amanda her illegitimate daughter.”
“Amanda has been devastated by the loss off her father,” Cliff said, joining him on the sofa. “Now she will learn her parents were not wed. I fear for her reception, knowing Dulcea even as little as I do. But I am determined to make this reunion work. Amanda has suffered enough. She deserves some of life’s good fortune.”
Rex shook his head. “You must be smitten. Cliff, society is unkind and you probably know it better than anyone. You may be able to ignore the gossip behind your back but she seems quite young and fresh to me. Whatever you think you have done on your ship, Miss Carre does not look ready to enter the ton—and not because she dresses like a boy. Of course you must attempt this reunion with Lady Belford, but I would think twice about casting her into society.”
“As for her dress, she has no gowns. I sent a Regent Street seamstress a missive from the docks and I expect a reply before this evening is out. Amanda will not be ridiculed when she enters society, because I am going to be with her and we will wait until everyone agrees she is ready.” He stared. “And I am not smitten. I am being honorable, that is all.”
Rex patted his shoulder. “It is about time.” He chuckled. “Very well. We will call your feelings those of honor. When will you attempt to introduce mother and daughter?”
“I don’t know. I am eager to have the help of our ladies now. And I do not mind deferring to their advice, either. In fact, I welcome it.” Rex laughed again, and Cliff ignored him. “I will call on Lady Belford tonight, alone. The sooner I make certain she is amenable to the reunion, the better.”
Rex shook his head, his smile gone. “I am very aware that, like Devlin, you are a master of the seas. London society is not the main. Your power is finite here. I hardly recall you being at the pinnacle of society. There are whispers behind your back—whispers you seem to encourage and covet. You can do your best to shield Miss Carre from any unpleasantness, but you cannot force Lady Belford to take her in, nor can you make society accepting of her rather unique ways. In fact, society might have some of the very same questions about this odd pairing that I have had.”
Cliff stood. “You are wrong. I can and will shield Amanda. I have tolerated those whispers because they amused me. Now, I will throw my wealth around town so blatantly it will be obscene, and the whispers will cease. I never fail. I do not intend for this to be the first time.” He started across the room.
“Where are you going?” Rex asked softly.
“I am going to check on Amanda and see if she is pleased with her accommodations. She is not used to servants and I doubt she has asked for a single thing.”
“Cliff.” Rex stood. “She may be in breeches, but she is a young and very beautiful woman. You’re not on your ship. You can’t meander into her private rooms so casually. It will be below stairs and then upstairs and all about the ton before dawn. Will you ruin her reputation before you have even launched her? You alone are fodder for gossip, but now you add La Sauvage into the equation. I want you to succeed, but you must proceed with caution.”
Cliff felt an unwelcome frustration, for Rex was right. “I am going to check on her—but briefly.” He hesitated. “We will speak in the hall.”
Rex simply stared after him, his thoughts clear. This was not going to be a mission so easily
accomplished.
AMANDA LEAPED TO HER FEET at the sound of Cliff’s steps outside of her door. Before he had even knocked, she threw it open, terribly relieved to see him. He stood there, appearing somewhat surprised by her manner, and she had to remind herself not to fling her arms around him. “You did not forget me!”
He smiled. “That would be impossible.”
She bit her lip. “You are flirting.”
“Am I?” He glanced past her into her room. “Are you comfortable in these quarters, Amanda?”
“Am I comfortable?” She had thought the furnishings at Windsong to be luxurious, but this was so very different. The bedroom reeked of past centuries, of a family heritage and tradition she could barely understand. There were faded portraits in old gilt frames in the hall, and the secretary in the bedroom looked as if it belonged in another place and time. Harmon House was so obviously a part of the de Warenne family’s history that she could actually feel their ancestors lurking in the shadows of the corridor.
“I take it you approve?”
She nodded. “Why are you standing in the hall? Can’t you sit down and talk to me for a moment?” She gave in to what she really wanted to know. “What did your brother say when I left? And what did you tell him about me?”
He hesitated. “I can’t come in. I am a notorious bachelor, and if I cross that threshold and a housemaid sees us, your reputation is over before we have ever introduced you to anyone.”
She felt her anxiety heighten. In a way, she had already entered society. She was queasy. “I don’t really care.” Yet that was a lie.
“But I do.” He smiled at her again. “I will have a supper tray sent up.”
She stared. “You didn’t answer me.”
“Rex thinks you are very young and very beautiful and he is surprised that I am your protector.” Cliff shrugged.
“That is all?”
“That is all. However, I do have news. It is really good news, so you must take it as such.”
Amanda was instantly uneasy. “What is it? Is it about my mother?”
“No. My stepmother, my sister-in-law and my sister are in residence. They are out taking tea.”
Amanda turned and walked over to a beautiful love seat striped in pale blue, ivory and gold, where she sat. A small fire burned beneath an ornate and carved wood mantel, but she did not see it. Everything was happening too quickly! She wasn’t ready to meet the countess, his sister or the woman who would one day become the next countess of Adare. Her stomach heaved.
Cliff walked into the room. “Amanda. They are not like the ladies you have met in Kingston. I swear it. They are kind and generous and they will be delighted to meet you.”
Amanda shook her head. “I am doomed, before ever meeting my mother.”
“I thought you trusted me.”
She looked up. “I do. But they can’t possibly be kind. They may pretend to tolerate me, but they will look down on me.”
He clasped her shoulder. “I won’t try to tell you again that you are wrong. I’ll introduce you tonight if you wish, so you don’t worry yourself all evening.”
Amanda stood, facing him. “I’ll wait until the morning.” She couldn’t form a smile.
Amanda heard footsteps. Cliff turned. A beautiful and elegant young woman was passing by her open door. The tall woman halted, staring in disbelief. “Cliff?”
He dropped his hand. “Speak of the devil,” he teased.
The lady glanced at Amanda, her eyes growing wide, and a gleam came into them as she walked in. “I see you have brought home a guest?” she asked too sweetly.
He snaked his arm around her and pulled her very hard to his side. “Yes, I have, a guest I hope you will befriend.”
She shrieked in protest and pulled free, punching him in the chest. Then she smiled at Amanda, her topaz eyes filled with interest.
Amanda flushed uneasily.
“Ow. Come back here.” Cliff caught her by her ear and this time, pressed a kiss to her cheek.
She hugged him hard. “Who is the devil in this room?” she laughed, releasing him. Then she faced Amanda again. “Hello! I am Mrs. Sean O’Neill and this cad is my brother. Sometimes I love him very much and sometimes I dream of ways to throttle him. He can be hugely annoying.”
“Do not listen to her. I am charming and pleasant—unless provoked.” Cliff laughed. “Eleanor is the little sister I have told you about, except she is really an Amazon,” Cliff said by way of introduction. “Mrs. O’Neill, do meet Miss Amanda Carre.”
Amanda trembled, uncertain of what to think. Clearly brother and sister adored one another. She had never thought to see a real lady punch anyone, not even her brother, and this woman was a lady—she was beautiful and elegant and the daughter of an earl. Mrs. O’Neill had definitely remarked her breeches and boots. “Hello,” Amanda began, almost hoping that the sister would vanish. She waited for the inevitable sneer.
But Eleanor smiled. “Call me Eleanor, everyone does! How do you know my rakehell brother? How is it you are his guest? Have you been riding in the rain? And how old are you?”
“Eleanor!” Cliff objected, but he laughed.
“He has kindly brought me to London to meet my mother,” Amanda said breathlessly. “And I am not much of a horsewoman. We just arrived—I am from the islands.” She waited for his sister to laugh, but she didn’t; she continued to smile, as if they were already friends.
“How interesting. My brother is many things—handsome, wealthy, brave, selfish, a boor—but he is not kind.”
Amanda stiffened. “He is very kind! He brought me here from the West Indies when I had no way to pay for my passage.”
Eleanor gave Cliff a disbelieving look.
Cliff scowled at her. “Amanda’s father recently died. She had no one else to turn to.”
“Oh, so you have rescued a damsel in distress,” Eleanor said slowly. She seemed perplexed.
“Actually, that is exactly what I have done. And by the by, I have brought Ariella and Alexi here.”
Eleanor cried out in delight. “And I have brought Michael and Rogan—they are in the nursery with Lizzie’s three hellions.”
“Then the cousins may have already met,” Cliff said, appearing pleased.
Amanda took the moment to sit down hard on the closest chair. Was his sister actually going to accept her presence in their home as if it was a usual occurrence? Didn’t she care that Amanda was scandalously attired? Did she know that her father had been a pirate, his fate death by hanging?
Cliff turned toward her. “I have to go out. Before I do so, is there anything you need?”
Amanda hated the idea of his leaving her alone in the house with his family. “I am fine,” she lied, feeling ill all over again. Where was he going? It was almost suppertime. She couldn’t help wondering if he was visiting one of his lovers, but that thought was too painful to contemplate.
He hesitated and sat down beside her. “I won’t be gone for long. Do you want to meet the countess and Lizzie before I go?”
“I think I am going to rest,” Amanda said warily. “I can meet them tomorrow.”
Cliff stared closely, his gaze searching. Amanda gazed back, wishing they were on the deck of his ship. “We’ll do some sightseeing tomorrow,” he finally said.
Instantly she smiled. “That would be wonderful.”
Cliff smiled back and stood. He gestured at his sister, who pretended not to understand. “Amanda is tired from the voyage.”
“But I was going to ask for some tea and sandwiches, so we might become better acquainted.” Eleanor grinned, appearing a bit mischievous.
Amanda was alarmed.
Cliff clasped her shoulder. “You will have plenty of time to become acquainted with Amanda,” he said.
She snickered. “You do mean Miss Carre, don’t you, Cliff?”
He pushed her out the door. “You remain as impertinent as always,” he said.
“And I wonder if you remain as impossibly rogui
sh as always?” She returned sweetly. “Naughty Cliff, to be alone in a lady’s room at this hour!”
Cliff turned to Amanda. “Ignore her. I will check on you later.”
Amanda had an idea of what his sister had been implying, but she hoped she was wrong. Or did his sister think they were having a lover’s affair, right under the countess’s roof?
But Eleanor waved at her and disappeared, as if she did not mind the notion at all.
“She is a very bold woman,” Cliff said, shaking his head. “And outspoken—perhaps more so than you. She also wears breeches, by the way. I will see you later.”
Amanda gaped as he closed her door.
IT TOOK HIM A SCANT ten minutes to reach Belford House, and by the time he arrived, it had begun to rain. Four handsome coaches lined the street, so he knew he was interrupting a supper party, but as it was only seven, the guests had probably just arrived. It was not fashionable to call as he was doing, but he did not care, and no one in society expected him to behave in a proper manner, anyway. He rang the knocker. Everyone except for Belford would assume he was sniffing after his wife. Belford seemed oblivious to his wife’s escapades.
A butler ushered him in, ogling his gold earring and the spurs he wore in spite of his tan trousers. He had also donned a beautiful shirt, tie and navy-blue jacket—his concession to fashion. Cliff smiled. “Is Belford at home?”
“His lordship is in Scotland,” the servant returned, more interested now in the sheathed dagger at his hip than at the transparent question.
“Then I am in luck,” Cliff returned, handing the man his business card. “Please inform Lady Belford that I have an urgent matter to discuss with her.” He said.
The man vanished.
Cliff paced the round foyer beneath a crystal chandelier, overhearing male conversation sprinkled with feminine laughter. The entry was sparsely furnished. A beautiful but very worn Oriental rug was underfoot and two ruby-red chairs were at the hall’s end, the seats faded. A lampshade that should have been ivory was the color of parchment. Looking around, he realized that the Belfords were in an economic pinch.
