Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
AMANDA HAD NEVER missed Cliff more.
She knew now that she had made a terrible mistake.
He had been gone for more than a week. They had returned to London in separate vehicles, Cliff traveling not with her but with Ariella and Anahid, refusing to even look at her as Monsieur Michelle helped her into the coach they would share.
Upon arriving in London, he had gone to bid Alexi farewell, and Amanda had followed him up to the nursery, aware that he had never worn such a harsh, grim expression.
Filled with dread, she had stood in the doorway of Alexi’s bedchamber, watching him embrace his son.
He’d mussed Ned’s hair, as well. A brief lecture had followed, with Alexi begging to go with him to Holland, but Cliff had refused.
Although he had spent half a day in a coach with Ariella, he had then gone to her room, casting one hard look at Amanda.
“You need not follow me through the house.”
“Cliff, please don’t leave like this,” she cried desperately.
His expression had hardened impossibly and he had increased his stride, leaving her standing at one end of the hall, near tears. It had felt like the end of their relationship.
Alexi had tugged at her hand. “What did you do to make Papa so angry?” he had asked in a whisper, wide-eyed.
Amanda could not remember what pitiful excuse she had made.
She had gone to her bedchamber, refusing to cry and wishing she had never tried to seduce him.
She had been mad to think she could cause him to violate his sense of honor, she realized.
Standing at the window, she had watched him leaving Harmon House with only a small valise.
No matter how many times she told herself that when he returned, he would smile at her once more, as if nothing had ever happened, she had the awful sense that their friendship would never be the same.
Cliff wasn’t just leaving the country for a few weeks, he was putting a great distance between them.
No two acts could be more symbolic than his departure and his decision to see her immediately wed.
His mind was made up. Very soon, he was going to be walking her down the aisle and giving her over to another man.
When he did that, the distance between them would be inviolable and permanent.
Amanda couldn’t do it.
She was acutely aware of her heart now. She was deeply in love with Cliff de Warenne and nothing would ever change that.
She could not marry a man she neither knew nor loved, not even for the security of a home like Ashford Hall.
She had never been sadder, because she couldn’t remain at Harmon House this way, either, heartbroken, dependant upon him and still yearning for what would never be.
She was going home, but not until after the ball.
Amanda went to the armoire and slowly took out the beautiful gown she would wear to the Carrington ball.
It was the most exquisite dress she had ever seen, elaborate and elegant enough to be a wedding dress, really, with a low square bodice, small cap sleeves, sheer gold chiffon layered over the white floral silk beneath.
She had been eagerly anticipating wearing it; she had been sure Cliff’s eyes would blaze when he saw her in it.
Now, she felt certain he would barely look at her.
She had little doubt that he would not be taking the first waltz with her, if he hadn’t given her his word.
But Cliff de Warenne never broke his word.
He would be there, and she could imagine how awkward being in his arms would now be. After the ball, she would profess her gratitude for all he had done for her—and then she would say goodbye.
Her heart screamed in protest. Amanda held the ball gown up to her chest and regarded herself in the mirror.
She didn’t want to be La Sauvage ever again.
She didn’t want to roam the island like a boy in breeches.
She was going home as a lady; if she was allowed to take her wardrobe with her, she would sell most of it and open up a small shop.
Otherwise, she would borrow funds. She knew all about sailing and world trade.
She would import a small cargo of the most beautiful fabrics—there had never been enough dress shops in Kingston.
She would charge the highest prices possible and start saving the profits.
As soon as she could, she would buy her own ship and hire the crew to sail it.
Once she had her own ship, she could import anything and she would cruise the world, looking for exotic merchandise.
Instead of stealing or begging, she would become a merchant, the first female merchant on the island.
Ladies weren’t merchants, but she would be the exception to the rule, just as Eleanor O’Neill was an exception.
As Eleanor had advised, she would be quiet, polite and well dressed in public, and privately she would do as she willed.
Only then would she swim in the cove or dive off the cliffs just west of Belle Mer.
A bit of the wild child still existed, she rued, but it no longer mattered.
There was one problem. Sooner or later Cliff would return to Windsong, and she would be drawn there.
She imagined herself calling on him in his island manor, a wealthy, independent and respected lady now, a dozen years older, perhaps, wearing jewels she had bought herself.
Her heart leaped wildly. She would always be thrilled to see him.
She had to close her eyes, fighting her most powerful dreams that even a dozen years from now, his eyes would light up with admiration and hunger, and he would smile at her in that promising way he had and then pull her into his arms….
Amanda put the ball gown on the bed. She was always going to be tempted to dream of his love, but she had better recognize it was only that, a wild, fanciful dream.
It would be better to focus on the present.
Last night she had gone to her first opera with the earl and countess, Lizzie and her husband, Tyrell.
Briefly, she had been enthralled enough to forget about Cliff.
She had enjoyed herself and there was no opera in Kingston.
She was genuinely going to miss his family, she thought, and she would even miss town.
A knock sounded on her door, but Amanda did not hear it.
Maybe one day Eleanor would come to visit her with Sean and Rogan.
Eleanor appeared in the looking glass, her eyes soft with sympathy.
Instantly, Amanda rearranged her sorrowful expression into a pleasing countenance.
“I did knock. But you didn’t answer and I can see you are absorbed in your thoughts.” Eleanor touched her as she turned to face her. “You don’t have to pretend, Amanda. We all know how unhappy you are. I personally am plotting various ways to bring my brother to all of his senses when he returns.”
Amanda continued to smile. “I love my dress,” she said, refusing to discuss Cliff. Then she changed her mind. “Cliff has been wonderful to me. Don’t be angry with him.”
Eleanor’s eyes widened. “You need to stop defending him, Amanda. Do you want to tell me exactly what happened at Ashford Hall to make him run away from you this way?”
Amanda felt her cheeks heat. “He has business abroad,” she began, lowering her eyes.
Eleanor scoffed. “He could send his agent! You are so modest. Some vanity would serve you well, Amanda. You are wrong. He is besotted with you and I have my suspicions as to why he left town as he did.”
“He is fond of me. He has even admitted it.” Amanda went to the bed and took up the dress, returning it carefully to the armoire. She did not want to discuss her feelings for Cliff or their relationship with his sister. “He is hardly besotted.”
“You should seduce him. He’ll pony up if you do.”
Amanda flinched. If Eleanor knew why Cliff had left, she would never be suggesting such a thing.
Eleanor sighed. “You might think about it. In any case, we have callers. And no, it is not your most recent admirer, MacLachlan.”
Since her return from Ashton, there had been quite a few callers.
Blanche Harrington had visited and Amanda had enjoyed her company.
They had strolled together in the gardens, happening upon Rex as he returned from a hack, but Rex had been in his usual dark humor.
There had been other callers, too, as the countess was genuinely admired and very well-liked.
Eleanor had received several ladies she knew from her own comeout years ago.
Amanda had been present during every call.
No one seemed to suspect that three months ago she had led a very different life.
Conversation had become easy for her; she no longer had to worry and fret about what she should or should not say and do.
And no one knew that deep in her heart she was grieving.
There were gentlemen callers, too. And now that she planned to go home very shortly, she felt guilty entertaining them.
MacLachlan had returned, in spite of Cliff’s edict.
His father and Adare were friends and the earl openly approved of him.
He had brought some bachelor acquaintances with him.
There had been other gentlemen, as well, faces she could not recall, names she did not remember, all invited to the house by Adare and his wife to meet her, all being considered as possible husbands.
She felt dreadful deceiving his family now, but she could not tell anyone her plans.
She knew that someone would go directly to Cliff to tell him what she intended.
The morning after the ball, she would tell him herself.
It would be difficult enough to do so. She knew he would be opposed to her plans, but she had made up her mind, and this one time, she would have her way.