Chapter 13 #3
Amanda didn’t know what to think now, especially as she kept recalling Cliff’s last whispered words.
She was the last to alight from the coach and she followed the three women up the wide stone staircase, glancing backward at the enormous fountain in the center of the driveway amidst the geometric gardens.
Harrington Hall made Harmon House seem small and cozy.
Her heart was racing with so much alarm that she felt faint.
They were escorted through a vast hall filled with old paintings and into a huge salon with three crystal chandeliers and too many seating arrangements to count when the countess was announced. Amanda stiffened as an extremely elegant blond woman came into the room.
Blanche Harrington was picture-perfect. She was so beautiful, and without uttering a word, Amanda knew she was the epitome of ladylike behavior.
Although conservatively dressed in emerald green, diamonds sparkled at her ears and on one hand.
She moved with the grace and confidence of one born to extreme wealth and power.
But she was smiling warmly and she and Mary de Warenne exchanged hugs, not curtsies.
“It is so good to see you, Mary,” Blanche Harrington said, obviously meaning it.
“And I am delighted to be here, Blanche.”
Blanche turned, smiling at Lizzie and Eleanor, her gaze taking in Amanda, as well. “It’s been too long, Lizzie! And Eleanor, I have not seen you since your marriage.”
The women embraced, Lizzie explaining she was so busy with the children and Eleanor insisting the very same thing.
Amanda trembled, clasping her hands, praying she would not make a stupid mistake. Blanche smiled at her as Mary introduced them. “Blanche, this is my son’s ward, Miss Amanda Carre.”
Amanda felt as if her cheeks were on fire as she sank into her first official curtsy. Panicking, she wondered if her hair was falling from its pins or if she had somehow stained her beautiful dress. When she straightened, she saw Blanche’s pleasant expression had not changed.
“Welcome to Harrington Hall, my dear. So Cliff de Warenne is your guardian! You could not ask for a better champion, I think. Have you been in town long?” she asked in a friendly and interested tone.
Her heart rioting, Amanda tried to smile, but she was still too nervous to do so. “He is a wonderful guardian, my lady. And I have only been in town a week.”
“London is a wonderful city. I am sure you will be pleasantly entertained while here,” Blanche said.
Amanda nodded, realizing that Lady Harrington wished to converse with her.
Was she supposed to say something? Her mind raced.
She did not want to discuss the weather, as nothing would make her feel more foolish.
“Your home is beautiful, my lady. I thought Harmon House grand, but this is even grander.” She was trembling.
Had she addressed her correctly? “I mean, Your Grace,” Amanda whispered, becoming confused.
The moment she spoke, she recalled from her previous lessons that only a duke or duchess was referred to as His or Her Grace. She flushed.
But Blanche did not seem to have heard her faux pas. “Thank you, my dear. Lord Harrington, my father, built this estate many years ago. The gardens are my favorite part of the estate.”
Amanda hesitated, amazed she hadn’t been ridiculed, then asked breathlessly, “Do you have a rose garden?”
“Yes, of course. Would you like to see it?” She held out her hand.
Amanda was nearly in disbelief. “I love roses. I should love to see it,” she managed, overcome.
“Why don’t we all stroll outside? It is a lovely day,” Blanche said. “Afterward, we can take tea.”
Amanda stood there, shaken and stunned, as the women walked toward the terrace doors. She inhaled hard. She didn’t have to be told to know that somehow, she had passed her first test in society. She hurried after the group.
“CLIFF?” ELEANOR TRIED to appear innocent, but it was no easy task, as she could not wait to bait her brother now.
He was at one of the two large desks in the library, both of which were at kitty-corner at the far end of the large room.
Two vast red rugs covered the floors and bookcases lined two of the four walls.
He seemed engrossed in paperwork and she had to come forward, a sheet of paper in her hand, calling his name again.
He jerked, glancing up. Then he stood, smiling. “Eleanor! When did you return from Harrington Hall? How did it go?”
She kept a perfectly innocent expression on her face. God, he deserved this! “Oh, fine. Mother is resting before supper—everyone is, actually. Can I have a word?”
He scowled, coming out from behind the desk. “How is Amanda?” he demanded with vast impatience. “Was the call a success?”
She simply smiled at him.
“Do not test my patience now!”
“You have no patience,” she cried. Then she smiled genuinely at him.
“It was a very good idea to call on Blanche first. The call was a success. Amanda may not realize it, but she has a calm and grace, even when she is afraid. She did make one faux pas, but we all pretended not to notice and she realized her mistake. She can hold her own in society, Cliff—she is clever and, in truth, good at conversation.”
He was smiling. “I am so pleased.”
Eleanor plucked his sleeve. “But you know society just as I do. Blanche Harrington is one of the few genuinely nice women in town. There are so many vultures out there! I hated society when I was forced to come out. I can’t begin to tell you how many English ladies looked down on me because I am Irish.
Worse, even though I am an earl’s daughter, the rakes in the ton were conscienceless.
” She made sure not to grin, although she thought her eyes probably danced.
He scowled. “I will protect Amanda from any rogue who dares give her a single glance,” he said tersely. “No one will dare pursue her with any intention other than an honorable one.”
Eleanor tried not to laugh. “You do take this guardianship very seriously,” she said, maintaining an innocent expression.
“Of course I do,” he snapped, appearing vastly annoyed. Then he nodded at the document in her hand. “Is that for me?”
Eleanor simply could not prevent a grin. “It is the list of suitors.”
Cliff looked at her as if she had spoken Chinese.
“Don’t you want to see who is on it?”
He snatched the sheet from her hand and she tried not to chuckle as his brows lifted. “There are only four names here!”
“It is only the first four names I have thought of,” she said.
“Besides, although you are providing her with a dowry, you are not making her a great heiress. We can claim an ancient Saxon family tree, but we have no proof. I am trying to find Amanda the perfect husband. You do want her to be very happy and to live in marital bliss, don’t you? ”
He gave her a dark look. “John Cunningham? Who is this?”
She became eager, smiling. “He is a widower with a title, a baronet. He has a small estate in Dorset, of little value, but he is young and handsome and apparently virile, as his first wife had two sons. He—”
“No.”
She feigned surprise, raising both brows. “I beg your pardon?”
“Who is next?”
“What is wrong with Cunningham? Truthfully, he is openly looking for a wife!”
“He is impoverished,” Cliff spat. “And he only wants a mother for his sons. Next?”
“Fine,” she said, huffing. “William de Brett. Ah, you will like him! De Brett has a modest income of twelve hundred a year. He comes from a very fine family—they are of Norman descent, as well, but he has no title. However—”
“No. Absolutely not.”
Eleanor stared, forcing herself to maintain a straight face. “Amanda can live modestly but well on twelve hundred a year and I know de Brett. The women swoon when he walks into a salon.”
His gaze hardened. “The income is barely acceptable, and he has no title. She will marry blue blood.”
“Really?”
His smile was dangerous. “Really. Who is Lionel Camden?”
She beamed. “Perhaps the best of the lot! He has a title—he is a baron. He has never been wed but he has several children. His home is quite nice, apparently, it is in Sussex, and he has a pleasing income! I believe it is two thousand a year.” She waited.
He stared, appearing close to an apoplexy. “So he is a rake?”
“You have bastards!”
“I am a rake! Next.”
She choked. “Next?”
“Amanda is not marrying a rake. Her husband will be loyal to her.”
“Then maybe you should consider de Brett? He is very handsome and I am sure that he might fall in love with Amanda!”
“Who is Ralph Sheffeild?” Cliff ignored her.
She had saved the best for last. There was absolutely nothing wrong with Sheffeild. “He was knighted during the war for his valor, he is the youngest son of an earl, the family is very wealthy, and he can marry as he chooses. He is not a rake. If he is taken with Amanda, it would be perfect!”
“How do you know he is not a rake?”
“I know his reputation.”
“He must be a rake, or he would be wed.”
“I feel certain he is not a rake,” she said quickly. “If he were a rake, the gossip would be all over the ton.”
“Does he have a mistress?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Then he must prefer men.” Cliff smiled in triumph.
“What a leap to make!” She was aghast.
“He is too perfect. Something is wrong with him. If it isn’t that preference, perhaps he gambles!”
“He doesn’t gamble.” She had to control her laughter now. She had no idea if Sheffeild gamed. “And Cliff, he likes women. I have met him personally, I am certain.”
Cliff folded his arms across his chest and stared. “Something is wrong with this one, I can feel it. What aren’t you telling me?”
“I have told you everything. He is perfect for Amanda!”
He tore the paper, not in two, but in shreds. Then he smiled, letting the scraps drift to the floor.
“Cliff!” she gasped. “What is wrong with Sheffeild?”
“No one is perfect,” he retorted. “He is hiding something.”
“You cannot reject everyone!”
“I can and I will, until I find the right suitor. Make me another list,” he ordered, walking away.
She couldn’t resist. She took a book from the shelf and threw it, so it hit him square in the back.
He turned. “What was that for?”
“Oh, let’s just say I am going to enjoy watching you taken down a peg or two. And by the by, we are all rooting for Amanda.”
He simply looked at her, clearly clueless as usual.
Someone coughed from the doorway, behind her. Eleanor went rigid, then turned. “Sean!” she cried, her heart leaping wildly.
Tall and handsome, he came forward, taking her into his arms. “Surprise,” he said softly, just before claiming her mouth.