Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
CLIFF WAS VERY ALARMED as he strode into Harmon House.
It was almost two in the morning, and just when he had realized that he had not seen Amanda anywhere at the ball in a good hour, a servant had come up to him to tell him that Rex had escorted her home.
Something was amiss. He was her escort, not Rex.
He felt certain someone had cut her, but he could not understand why she hadn’t come to him.
And he wasn’t happy, either, about the way Dulcea Belford had been regarding him just before he had left.
There had been something spiteful and calculating in her expression—and there was an odd glint of triumph.
He dearly hoped Amanda had not exchanged words with her mother, but he was almost certain that she had.
If so, that would explain her hasty departure, but not why she had gone to Rex instead of him.
The house was silent. Lizzie, Tyrell, the earl and countess had all left the ball shortly after midnight, but Sean and Eleanor remained and would undoubtedly stay for another hour or two.
He took the stairs two at a time and paused at Amanda’s door.
Obviously, it was late, and he should not barge into her bedroom at this hour.
His heart tightened. He had thought of little else that evening than his extraordinary feelings and the woman who had somehow, impossibly, engendered them.
He had been looking forward to a very long, very deep good-night kiss, and far more.
He had been anticipating having her in his arms, in his bed, and touching her as he wished. He smiled, leaning against the wall.
He was a de Warenne. When the men in his family fell in love, it was once and forever. He could survive this night alone, because once she was his wife, he would never sleep without her again. Knowing Amanda, she would join him on his voyages, at least until she was carrying his child.
His wife. He had never dreamed he would ever think such words or want to make such a commitment.
But Amanda was going to become his wife, and soon, of that he had no doubt.
First thing in the morning, he would buy her a proper ring, so he could propose marriage to her.
He would even get down on one knee. Normally, he thought romance nonsense, but God, he wanted to be as romantic as possible with her.
His child. He adored his two children, and fatherhood was the greatest joy of his life.
Now, he could think of nothing more joyous than Amanda carrying another son or daughter for him.
But she had been rudely deprived for most of her life.
He wanted to give her everything life had to offer, all of the finer things she had missed, the opera and champagne, rubies and pearls, fine art and gowns designed by Parisian couturiers, safety, security, love.
His heart danced. He could wait for a third child. He was getting so ahead of himself.
He glanced at her door, images of Amanda at the ball filling his mind, the most beautiful woman present, the most courageous, the most unique.
He had never declared himself before and he felt awkward and even gauche now.
He had never dreamed he would one day ask a woman to marry him, either, but he would somehow find the right words, even if she so often made him tongue-tied.
He realized he had his hand on the knob.
If he went inside now, he thought, he was going to make love to her.
But she deserved a proper proposal first, just as she really deserved a genuine wedding and a wedding night which she would never forget.
He fought his own base instincts, because he wanted to make love to her then and there. Although he had been with many women he had not truly made love to any of them.
He sighed and went back downstairs to the west wing. He banged on Rex’s door, hoping he was alone. However, his brother was known to carouse, his amputated leg not hindering his conquests. “Are you asleep, Rex?” he demanded.
His brother grunted. “Not anymore.”
Cliff stepped into the bedroom as his brother sat up and lit a lamp. He was alone, fortunately. “What happened? Why didn’t you summon me? I was Amanda’s escort. I should have brought her home.”
Rex appeared annoyed. “Go back to bed, Cliff. Speak with her in the morning. She seemed upset, somewhat.” He turned off the light and flopped back down, clearly ending the conversation.
But Cliff didn’t go. “Did she say why she was upset?”
“No, she did not. Good night.”
“How distressed was she?”
“I do not know! Good night, Cliff!”
Cliff sighed and left. If it had been truly important, Rex would have alerted him.
He would speak with Amanda in the morning, before he went to Bond Street for her ring.
He would buy her the most magnificent diamond he could find.
Just in case he could not find the right words to express his feelings, the grand gesture would.
He smiled to himself.
CLIFF HAD HARDLY SLEPT at all, too overcome with his feelings to do so.
It was shortly after eight, and he and Tyrell were the only ones taking breakfast at that hour.
His brother was reading both the Herald and the Dublin Times.
Cliff fidgeted, sipping coffee, his stomach twisted into knots.
Amanda would probably remain abed for a few more hours, and the Bond Street shops did not open until eleven.
He wanted to see her before he went out.
Time had never crept by with more infuriating delay.
“What is wrong with you?” Tyrell remarked.
Cliff realized he had been drumming his fingers on the table. “Nothing.”
“You appear like a green-broke race horse about to be let out of the starting gate.”
That was exactly how he felt, but he did not say so.
And then he heard her steps. He jumped to his feet as Amanda appeared in the dining room doorway, fully dressed in a pale ivory-and-gold striped silk.
She looked as if she had slept only a few hours, as well.
Strain was mirrored on her face and in her eyes.
Something had happened last night, he realized grimly, instantly concerned. And damn Rex for making light of it. Cliff rushed forward.
“Good morning.” She nodded at Tyrell, her smile forced, and then she turned to Cliff. “I would like a word with you. In private,” she added quietly.
In that stunning moment, he felt as if she was the adult, he the child, and he was being summoned for a set-down. “Of course,” he said. He glanced at Tyrell. “Excuse us.”
Tyrell nodded, returning to his newspaper.
Cliff followed Amanda down the hall and into the library. As he stepped inside, she closed the door behind him. “I am becoming increasingly alarmed,” he said, remarking her every feature. “You did not sleep well.”
She sent him a wan smile. “Neither, apparently, did you.”
“What happened last night? Why did you leave in such haste? Why didn’t you summon me? I would have taken you home!” he exclaimed.
She smiled again, more firmly. “It was obvious you were enjoying yourself,” she said.
What was she talking about? “I was enjoying watching your incredible success,” he said, and he flushed, for that wasn’t what he really meant. He added, “I was enjoying watching you.”
Her chin lifted. “There is something I wish to discuss.”
His alarm escalated dramatically. “Are you upset with me? Have I done something to offend you?”
“Oh, Cliff.” She smiled fully now. “How could I be upset with you? I will forever be grateful for all you have done for me, and last night was wonderful.” She hesitated, coloring. “I will never forget our waltz.”
“You are speaking as if we will never waltz again!” he exclaimed. He stepped closer, intentionally towering over her. He had no intention of losing her now. “You are speaking as if you are going somewhere.”
She wet her lips, her gaze on his. “I have made plans,” she whispered.
“Plans? What kind of plans?” he demanded, dread uncoiling as swiftly as a serpent.
“While you were away, I realized I have no wish to marry. I am going home.”
For one moment, he gaped at her, absolutely shocked. “What?”
“I am going home. I cannot marry. I will not. Please, do not misunderstand. I will forever be grateful for all that you have done for me, but my place is in Jamaica. I am going to open up a shop, with borrowed funds, and eventually, I intend to start a shipping business.”
He felt as if someone had dealt him a physical blow and he became so dazed he could hardly think. “You want to go back to the island,” he repeated. “But this is your home!”
“Harmon House is your home.” She smiled firmly at him. “I know you are shocked, as you had other plans for me, but I will not back down.”
His mind began to work. “You want to open a shop? What is this about?” His senses returned. “What happened last night?”
“This is not about last night, not precisely. I have taken far too much from you and your family. I made my plans while you were gone, when I had a chance to really think. Cliff, I know you only want what is best for me, and I am so appreciative. But I don’t want to marry a stranger.
As much as I love Ashford Hall, Jamaica is my home.
If I do not marry here, I must provide for myself, and that is what I will do.
I know all about trade and shipping. I have made elaborate plans,” she added.
“I feel very confident I can become a success.”
He fought for calm. It was a long moment before he could speak.
“Of course you do not want to marry a stranger,” he said.
He hesitated, wanting to blurt out his feelings but very unsure of how he would be received.
He had never had such a failure in confidence before.
“You do not have to marry, Amanda,” he said slowly, “until you wish to.” He was resolved to win her heart, if he had somehow lost it.
“But you can stay here. I will turn all suitors away.”