by Brenda Joyce
Cliff strode into the salon, his face set in harsh lines, closing the two doors behind him. He faced her, not bothering with a proper or pleasant greeting. “I will not mince words, Lady Belford. You are not welcome here.”
Her smile vanished, as did her pleasure at the sight of such a magnificent man. She controlled her temper. “My lord, good morning to you, as well,” she murmured softly.
“Do I have to repeat myself? You are not welcome in this house.”
She drew herself up straighter. He was despicable! “My daughter lives in this house, Cliff. I am so sorry about our previous encounter. I have come to apologize to you and to inquire after her welfare.”
His beautiful blue eyes flashed. “Really? The daughter you have no wish to acknowledge in any fashion whatsoever?” He was scathing.
“I have reconsidered. I wish to meet her. I have actually considered claiming her as my cousin, but I am afraid of Belford.” She laid her ungloved hand on his strong forearm. He flinched and she felt a moment of satisfaction, thinking that he was not immune to her charms. “Cliff, I have so much regret!” she cried. “She is my daughter and I wish to help you launch her. Discreetly, of course.” She smiled at him, fluttering her lashes.”
He pulled away, scowling. “You broke Amanda’s heart. Now you wish to toy with it? I wonder at your change of heart, madam.”
Dulcea realized that seducing Cliff would not be easy, as he seemed to truly despise her. She wanted to attack, but smiled again, instead. “Come, Cliff. How could I have broken her heart? I don’t know her and she doesn’t know me.”
“Carre made certain she loved you, madam. Your rejection aggrieved her to no end,” he said harshly.
He is very protective of her, Dulcea suddenly thought with real suspicion and a stabbing jealousy. Was he fucking her? “She must be like her father, then. I broke his heart, but I did not mean to. Carre was weak.”
Cliff was disgusted. “Amanda is the strongest woman I have ever met. Let us cut to the chase. What do you really want?”
She widened her eyes, thinking of the estate Carre had left her and praying a few pounds could be squeezed out of it. “I told you, I wish to help you with Amanda. How rough is she?” she asked, not caring at all. “Can she be presented in real society? Otherwise, we will not be able to find her a suitor.”
Cliff shook his head. “I do not want you anywhere near Amanda, Lady Belford. There is no we. I trust you as much as I do a viper. No, I trust you even less.”
She stared at him, hating him, thinking about fucking him until he wept in pleasure and then coldly rejecting him while he begged for her attentions again.
“You are only here because you have heard Amanda has some small fortune. Do you think I am a fool?” He laughed coldly, without mirth.
Dulcea made one final attempt, knowing she would soon unsheathe her claws and wanting to do nothing more than scratch his handsome face. “I have every right to help you launch her, sir. I have every right to make the decisions that affect her future.”
“You have no rights!” Cliff exclaimed, his cheeks flushed with anger.
She curled her long nails into her palms. “How long have you been in her bed, de Warenne?”
His eyes widened.
She laughed with savage pleasure. “I know you are bedding her. I have heard she is beautiful and young. You used to prefer women like myself, but suddenly, it is the innocent you pursue. And I am the despicable one?” she purred, her pulse pounding, for she saw that she had fueled his anger and it was explosive.
He raised his hands as if he meant to push her into the wall. “Yes, she is young, very young—all of eighteen. She is my ward, Lady Belford! I am trying to find her a husband!”
Dulcea was surprised, because he seemed truly affronted, but she stepped so close to him that her breasts brushed his chest. He jerked. “If I let it be known that you are having a torrid affair with Miss Carre, she’ll be ruined, Cliff.”
He seized her arm, causing her to gasp with pain, pushing her against the wall. “Like hell! I am not sharing Amanda’s bed.”
Dulcea laughed, thrilling now. “Even if you aren’t, who will believe you?”
“You dare to blackmail me?” he gasped, his gaze glittering with fury. Dulcea was certain there was lust there, too. His grip eased slightly. He smiled coldly. “What do you want, Dulcea?”
She hesitated, then moved her hip against his loins. To her shock, they were not full.
His mirthless smile increased. “You could be the last woman in the land and I would not touch you.”
She cried out in rage. “I am her mother!” she spat. “I should control her prospects and her estate.”
Cliff laughed, releasing her. “I was right. You are heartless, conniving…and I am too much of a gentleman to continue. You will not spread your nasty lies, Dulcea, because if you do, I will make certain Belford knows the truth about you—all of it.”
She froze, suddenly afraid.
“That’s right. He will know of every single affair, your affair with Carre—and Amanda. Now get out.”
“You bastard,” she breathed. “You are no gentleman.”
“Get out,” he said softly, dangerously, “before I throw you out myself.”
She shook with rage, but she believed him, because his eyes were dark with fury. She hurried out of Harmon House, climbing into the carriage.
“Lady Belford?” her driver asked pleasantly.
“Shut up,” she cried.
She had to think. She wasn’t in Cliff’s arms, his huge manhood filling her. He wasn’t on his knees, burying his face in her sex. And he did not seem to be in Amanda’s bed—but something was going on, she could smell it. It was as if he cared about her damned bastard, while he despised her! Most importantly, he was keeping Amanda’s dowry securely under lock and key.
“I will have revenge,” she spat, trembling. “Harris! Take me to Lady Ferris,” she cried.
The baroness of Lidden-Way was the biggest gossip in town. She didn’t dare spread any lies, but after all, the truth had a way of revealing itself and no one would be able to prove that she had revealed it.
The baroness was going to love the fact that de Warenne was launching a pirate’s daughter.
Dulcea finally breathed and she finally smiled.
AMANDA WAS LIGHT on her feet, but because she had been told to stretch her body to an impossible height, to keep her spine stiff, and to somehow keep a book on her head while waltzing, she couldn’t follow the dance master now.
“One two three, one two three,” he kept saying, but before he ever reached the second “three,” the book fell from her head to the floor.
He released her. “Miss Carre! The waltz is terribly simple. All you have to do is master three steps and stay erect! How difficult can it be?”
Amanda flushed, retrieving the book. She knew the steps, she just couldn’t comprehend how to move her feet and not move her back or her head while doing so. It seemed impossible and she was discouraged, but she would not give up. Ladies had to dance, and they had to dance well. Sooner or later, she was going to master the waltz. However, she knew everyone in Cliff’s family was hoping she would be ready to attend the Carrington ball, and that was only weeks away.
Mr. Burns sighed. “Shall we?”
Amanda put the book oh so carefully on her head and placed one hand on his shoulder, the other in his palm. He smiled briefly, his expression strained, and chanted, “One two three.”
The book fell, clattering on the floor.
“I am sorry!” Amanda cried, flushing with humiliation again. She had never felt clumsier until she straightened. Clutching the book to her chest, her heart stopped. Dismayed, she saw that Cliff stood on the ballroom’s threshold, apparently watching her.
She felt her cheeks flame, but there were so many other reactions, as well. She always thrilled to glimpse him, and her heart told her that now, speeding as their eyes met. “How long have you been standing there?” sh
e managed.
He sent her the most beautiful smile she had ever received. “A few minutes,” he said, slowly crossing the room, his gaze never wandering from hers.
Amanda became still. There was something powerful and magnetic about his approach, his long, lazy strides, and the intent way he was looking at her. She couldn’t help wishing he had agreed to become her husband. The moment the terrible and unbidden thought occurred, she shoved it far away. He was her guardian, her protector and her champion. He was her friend. Nothing more, and she must always remember that.
But he seemed entranced as he approached, and she somehow knew he was coming to take her into his arms. His gaze remaining on hers, he said, “I will show Miss Carre the waltz, Mr. Burns. You may leave us.”
Burns nodded, swiftly leaving but hiding a smile Amanda did not comprehend.
Cliff paused before her, reaching toward her. Before she knew it, he had taken the book from her hands. Another heart-wrenching smile came her way. “It is a beautiful dance, an elegant dance,” he murmured, walking away. He placed the book on one of the many velvet chairs lining the huge room.
Amanda’s heart was racing with intense anticipation now. As he returned to her, she somehow whispered, “You will teach me to waltz?” She had dreamed so many times of the dance they would share at the Carrington ball and it had felt as if she must wait an eternity for that single dance. But finally, she would be in his arms, dancing across the room.
If she managed to keep up with him.
He smiled again, taking her left hand and placing it on his broad shoulder, then taking her right in his palm. “Do you object?” he asked softly.
Her heart leaped wildly. She was in his arms and there was no place she would rather be. “How could I possibly object?” she murmured, aware that no more than a single inch separated their bodies. Hers had heated, yearning for more than he was ever going to give her.
But it was all right. This was better than nothing.
His soft smile played again and his eyes warmed impossibly more. His gaze holding hers, he started to dance with her.
He did not count or chant. He waltzed across the floor and Amanda found herself whirling effortlessly with him, their steps so light and perfect, miraculously synchronized, so that the floor seemed to vanish and they were dancing in clouds.
She laughed as he whirled her about the room and he smiled back, into her eyes. They floated and swirled, back and forth, again and again, the dance effortless, perfect and magical. And Amanda never missed a step. She did not trip or falter. She felt as if she had been dancing this way with Cliff forever and ever. She could not look away from his beloved, handsome face. He would always take her breath away. He was so beautiful and she had never loved him more.
Amanda did not know how long they danced—it could have been five minutes, it could have been an hour. She knew she could waltz with Cliff forever.
Cliff suddenly glanced past her. He faltered.
She cried out, as he had stepped on her toes. He seized her shoulders, preventing her from falling. “I am sorry!” he exclaimed. “I have hurt you!” He seemed shocked by what he had done.
She clung as he righted her. “I am fine,” she said breathlessly, and she turned to look at the threshold of the room to see what had distracted him.
A tall, dark, imposing man stood there, splendidly dressed, as regal as a king. He wasn’t smiling. He was watching them closely. She knew it was the Earl of Adare.
Amanda trembled.
The earl came forward, his gaze quickly drifting over her from head to toe before moving to his son. Amanda stood breathlessly besides Cliff, aware of being inspected and praying she would not be found lacking. She stole a glance at Cliff and was surprised. He looked almost as Alexi did when about to be set down. He seemed guilty of some small crime, for he was flushing.
Cliff was a hero—her hero. After all, he was a great privateer and a wealthy and powerful man. She knew he loved, admired and respected his father but now, she saw he was still the son of a great and titled nobleman. But why did he expect to be reprimanded? All he had done was teach her to waltz.
Cliff inclined his head in a show of vast respect and deference. “My lord,” he said. “This is Miss Carre. Amanda, my father, Adare.”
Instantly Amanda sank into the lowest curtsy she could manage, hoping to touch her nose to the floor.
“Miss Carre, I have heard all about you from my wife, and I am delighted that you have become a member of this family,” the earl said pleasantly, smiling.
Cliff had taken her elbow, undoubtedly to prevent her from crashing face-first into the floor, and she stood up. “Thank you, my lord,” she stammered. This great man seemed to be speaking as if he really welcomed her into his home!
He smiled at her again, the light reaching his vivid blue eyes. “Mary is very fond of you, my dear, and if that is so, I share in her affections. I hope you have been given all that you need to make your stay a comfortable one?”
She blinked and nodded. “More than enough, sir,” she whispered, beginning to realize he looked intimidating but that he might actually be as kind as the rest of his family.
He turned his blue gaze to Cliff, his smile fading a bit. His hand clasped Cliff’s shoulder with affection. “I am so pleased to see you. I was certainly surprised when I arrived today to learn that you are here,” he added.
Cliff seemed to have recovered his composure. “Duty brought me to town a bit sooner that I had planned, as you surely know.” He smiled. “And I have brought Alexi and Ariella with me.”
The earl of Adare beamed. “I have already met your children. Alexi reminds me of you, exactly, and Ariella seems to be an angel.”
Cliff smiled proudly. “My daughter is an angel—a brilliant one, and yes, I am afraid Alexi might become a bit wayward.”
The earl chuckled and turned to Amanda, who was listening raptly to the two men. “I have not seen my son in a year and a half. I have some matters I wish to discuss with him. Would you excuse us?”
Amanda nodded, as she would never defy this man. She curtsied again, this time naturally. “Of course. My lord? Thank you for having me. Your home is wonderful…I do adore your entire family!”
Edward smiled again, and briefly, so did Cliff. “And by the by, you are a beautiful dancer,” the earl said with approval.
Amanda flushed with pleasure and stole a glance at Cliff to share her joy with him, then left.
Cliff stared after Amanda, aware of being proud of her most recent achievement. “I was certain she would be a graceful dancer,” he said, more to himself than his father.
“I have never seen two people dance so beautifully together,” the earl remarked, also watching her leaving the room. “Indeed, the two of you look as if you have been waltzing together for years.”
Cliff tensed. “Obviously, we have but known one another for a few months.” He hesitated, afraid of what his father might be thinking. Then he said, “You should see her with a sword. She could outfence Ty.”
The earl’s brows lifted. “You are entranced.”
Cliff knew his color increased. “She is my ward, sir. I am launching her into society, as Mother must have told you. I am very pleased with her accomplishments.” But he tugged at his shirt collar.
“Miss Carre is beautiful and sweet,” the earl remarked. “I cannot imagine her wielding a sword. She also seems entranced by you, Cliff.” His tone was firm, even stern.
“We were enjoying the waltz,” Cliff said tersely. “She has never waltzed before. The countess has surely told you Amanda’s story.”
“Then you are a good teacher.” The earl clasped his shoulder. “Your mother has told me of the bond of affection you share. How vast is that bond?”
Cliff hesitated. “Father, I am not a boy of fourteen anymore.” A warning had slipped into his tone.
“I am aware of that,” the earl exclaimed. “Cliff, of all my sons, you were the one always jumping the highest fence on you
r hack, jumps no boy should have dared! It wasn’t Ty or Rex I found in the bed of one of my guest’s wives, it was you—or have you forgotten that summer when you came home at sixteen? Ty did not run off and neither did Rex, but you had to leave home at fourteen. Although I understood then and I understand now, I did ask you to wait another year or two. I have always been proud of you, but you have given Mary and I many sleepless nights, too. Of course I must worry about my most willful and independent son!”
“You need not worry now. Amanda is my ward and I have vowed to secure a bright future for her. And while I am fond of Miss Carre, I am her guardian, and I am seeking a marriage for her.” He hesitated. “I am sorry I worried you and the countess so often as a boy.”
“Have you been in her bed?” the earl asked quietly but abruptly.
Cliff flushed anew, about to say no when he realized he would be lying to the earl. He had never lied to Edward and he never would. He could not, not even when he was younger and his scandalous behavior had merited severe discipline from his father.
Edward’s eyes widened with comprehension.
Cliff said quickly, “She is innocent. I would never take her innocence, no matter the temptation.”
“But you have been in her bed,” Edward stated. “Mary is right.”
“I am trying to behave honorably!” Cliff retorted, now worried about what the countess had said. “I rescued her from a mob at her father’s hanging. I declared myself her guardian when I did not have to do so—I could have left her a penniless orphan in Jamaica! I had hoped to reunite her with her mother, but her mother is the worst of women, a conniving weasel and Amanda has suffered enough heartbreak. I realize I fall far short of your standards. Yes, I have been in her bed. But she remains innocent and it will not happen again.”
Edward sighed. “I know you mean it. Cliff, I am very proud of your taking Miss Carre in and providing for her as you have. You have done the right and noble deed in offering to foster Miss Carre and launch her. But I am hoping to protect Miss Carre from any possible ruin. And frankly, although you seem immune to the gossip whispered behind your back, I should like to protect you, as well.”
