Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
HE HAD NOT RECOVERED his composure by the time he reached Harmon House. Cliff stormed inside, aware that he was late for supper. But the house was oddly quiet, and he realized the ladies were not in. They must have had supper plans.
Rex limped out of the library, clad in evening clothes. “I thought we were in a hurricane, from the sound of the front door slamming. What is wrong?”
Cliff glanced up the winding staircase, wincing. How was he going to tell Amanda the truth? She was going to be crushed and he did not want her to suffer over her despicable mother. He turned and went into the library. “I just spoke with Lady Belford. She is far more than a whore. She is a bitch.”
Rex’s eyes went wide. He closed the door behind them. “I have never heard you speak of a woman in such a manner!”
Cliff faced him. “She is the most selfish person I have ever met. She doesn’t care at all that her daughter is here—she is far more interested in her own comfort and care and that of her legitimate children. And that was said while she was trying to seduce me to her bed.”
After a pause, Rex said, “Are you certain you did not misconstrue her actions and words? I imagine she was shocked by the news you brought.”
Cliff laughed. “Trust me, I did not misconstrue anything. It doesn’t matter. After spending a half an hour with her, I would not send Amanda to her, not under any circumstance. Amanda is better off without her mother. The woman is heartless.”
Rex was gaping. “Cliff, you can’t mean what you have just said.”
“Oh, I mean every word.” He stomped to the sideboard and poured a double shot of whiskey. Downing it, he downed another one.
“Slow down!” Rex exclaimed. “I see you are very upset, and all this over the fate of a woman you barely know.”
That annoyed him even more. “I know Amanda better than I know anyone.” He poured another drink, but cradled this one in his hands.
“Really? You have known her for exactly six weeks,” Rex said, staring closely.
“I have known her for most of her life,” he returned, thinking about all the times he had seen her roaming the island and swimming in the sea.
“And we are mates. She has shared the middle watch with me every night. She rode the storm with me. A voyage changes men, Rex. Bonds are forged that can last a lifetime.”
“Apparently it has changed you,” he murmured.
“You wouldn’t understand…I am her protector, but it is more than that.” He walked over to the window and stared outside at the night. It continued to rain.
Rex came to stand beside him. “You are going to tell her that her mother is at Belford House? You are going to tell her the truth?”
He slowly turned, feeling dread. “How can I? How can I not?”
“You do not want to hurt her with the sordid truth, yet you do not want to lie,” Rex remarked.
“Precisely.”
“Cliff, do you care for any advice?”
Cliff sipped. “I should love your advice.”
Rex smiled. “Then this is a rare moment, because no one is as headstrong as you, except for Devlin. If you lie to her, you will regret it. I am certain. She has every right to know who her mother is, and that Dulcea Belford does not care to be responsible for her.”
Cliff had already reached that conclusion.
“She has suffered so much. She continues to grieve for her father. Amanda is one of the strongest women I have ever met, yet she is also, conversely, so vulnerable, so emotionally fragile. She deserves to be loved. I do not want her hurt another time!” he exclaimed.
“I cannot stand the idea that she will shed a single tear over that selfish woman.”
“Are you really certain Lady Belford is so black hearted? Perhaps she is really afraid of her husband and the scandal. Perhaps she does care for Amanda, in her own way.”
“And what way is that? To put her own welfare over that of her daughter? I am a parent. I would die for my children, Rex. And I would certainly suffer some scandal if that is what I had to do to provide for them.”
“Well, you do not have to decide what to say tonight,” Rex said. “Will you be all right? I am to join the countess, Lizzie and Eleanor at the McBanes’. I delayed going over only in the hopes of learning what happened at Belford House.”
“I am beyond disgust, but I am fine. Go, enjoy yourself, and give Rory and his wife my regards.”
Rex smiled. “Proceed with care, Cliff,” he said cryptically, and he limped out of the room.
Cliff finished his drink, debating whether to tell Amanda the truth about her mother or not.
If he withheld the truth, she would continue to grieve the loss of her father, and in time, she would be better able to withstand another blow.
On the other hand, London society was very small and Dulcea Belford lived a few blocks away.
It was inevitable that, at some point in time, Amanda would find herself in the same room with her mother, or with someone who knew her.
If only they did not resemble one another so greatly, he thought.
But someone was going to make the connection, and when that happened, Amanda was going to learn that her mother was Dulcea Belford, not Dulcea Carre.
It was better coming from him.
AMANDA HAD FALLEN ASLEEP. She dreamed of the great frigate, the storm and Cliff de Warenne, and in her dreams, she was fantastically free, riding the Fair Lady’s decks, soaring over the waves, with Cliff at her side, powerful and beautiful, a force of nature, absolute and relentless.
She was thrilled that they were at sea again, but then her dream became confusing…
. a beautiful lady was there, beckoning to her.
But whenever she turned to try to find the lady, the woman disappeared, as if a ghost. Yet Amanda knew she wasn’t a ghost. And then she heard her whisper, “Amanda.”
Amanda turned, becoming frightened, for she was no longer on the deck of the ship but in a grand and empty ballroom, and she was alone. Worse, she was supposed to be in a ball gown, but instead, she was in her ragged breeches and one of Cliff’s shirts.
“Amanda.”
She panicked, turning wildly, looking for the beautiful lady, but the ballroom remained empty.
Where was the lady, she wondered desperately, for she realized the woman had to be her mother.
And suddenly Cliff was there.
She didn’t see him, she sensed him, and her terrible anxiety eased.
And in that instant, Amanda was awake, her dreams forgotten. She blinked.
She had fallen asleep with the lights on, as she had been reading, and the fire was crackling in the hearth. Cliff stood on the threshold of the room, staring at her as she slept.
She sat up, tossing hair from her face. “Cliff.” She smiled, still half-asleep. He was the man of her dreams and she had never been happier to see anyone.
His gaze slid over her. “It’s early. I didn’t realize you were asleep,” he said stiffly. “We’ll speak tomorrow.”
Amanda was wearing the beautiful lace nightgown, the one that gave her the appearance of an elegant lady.
He thought so, too; she could see it in his eyes.
She leaped from the bed, racing to him before he could turn and step through the doorway.
“I was reading and I fell asleep. Don’t go, please! ” She smiled coaxingly at him.
His gaze fell to her bodice and then jerked up. “You must be exhausted. I heard you crying out. Are you all right?”
“Yes. I was having strange dreams.” She hugged herself, thinking about calling on her mother as soon as she had the appropriate attire. “Will a seamstress be here tomorrow?”
His eyes flickered. “Yes. Do you have a robe?”
“Your sister brought me some of her things,” Amanda said, wondering at his request.
“Why don’t you put a robe or a shawl on?” He sent her a tight smile and faced the fireplace.
Amanda stared at him before she went to an old rosewood armoire with paneled doors.
Eleanor was a good six inches taller than she was, but she slipped on the cotton wrapper she had been given, one trimmed with pink ribbons and lace.
Cliff was uncomfortable and she knew why.
His male nature was taking over again and she was acutely aware of it.
She could feel it there in the room with them, the hot desire, the huge tension.
But there was more than that. He seemed grim and even upset. “Are you all right?” she asked, approaching.
He turned, glanced at the wrapper, now belted, and nodded. “Of course I am. Come, let’s sit down. There’s something I wish to discuss.”
Amanda was instantly wary. She sat down on the small sofa before the fireplace, and so did he. “What has happened?”
He forced a smile. “Amanda, I have been doing a great deal of thinking. And I don’t want you to worry about anything. I said I would secure your future, and I meant it. You do trust me, don’t you?”
“You are beating around the bush,” she cried, very alarmed now. “I know that is what you said, but I am going to be living with Mama, and in the end she is going to be the one to force me into marriage with some stranger.”
His odd smile remained. “By the time you wed, it won’t be to a stranger. I am sure you will be very excited about your husband. All brides are in love on their wedding day.”
She gave him a look. “You are really worrying me. We both know many brides are terrified of the brutes they are being tossed to.”
His smiled became even more fixed. “You are never going to be thrown to any brute, as you have just put it. Amanda, how would you feel about staying here at Harmon House?”
She jerked. “What?”
“How would you feel about it?”
Her mind raced inanely. “What about Mama?”
His smile faltered. He took her hand, tightly. “You have nothing to worry about. You have a place to stay here and I will look after you—as will Rex, my mother, my sister, the entire family, in fact.”
Amanda felt cold. She shot to her feet. “What happened?” she heard herself ask, but she somehow knew. He had seen Mama—or Mama was dead.