Chapter 6
“What am I going to do with you?” Hiro murmured against the skin of Amanda’s neck.
After their lovemaking, he’d climbed from the bed to clean them both from the ewer of water on the bureau, then settled her in his arms once more.
He was pressed up against her back, cradling her as if they were utensils in a drawer.
Which, she supposed, would make her a spoon. A smaller spoon to his bigger one, perhaps?
Oh goodness, you must be tired.
She needed to sleep—especially after the emotions of the day—but it was too peaceful here, cuddled in a too-small bed with Hiro, to worry about such things.
Humming, she stretched against him like a satiated kitten. “I can think of a few things I would like you to do with me.”
The noise he made was something like a snort, and not at all the pensive, romantic tone she was hoping for.
Hiding her sigh, Amanda began the process of rolling over in the single hotel bed. “What are you thinking about?”
Hiro’s dark eyes watched her in the light from the electric lamp, but she couldn’t read his expression. “You don’t want me to tell you,” he finally admitted, waiting for her to rearrange herself.
“I do,” she insisted. “We are partners, are we not?”
“Are we?” Hiro sighed, tucking one arm around her and turning his gaze up to the ceiling. “Here in Scotland…”
When he trailed off, Amanda felt a pit forming in her stomach. “Here in Scotland we are no different people than if we were in Siam.”
“You know that’s not true,” he said quietly, still staring at the ceiling. “Do you want to leave for Effinghell tomorrow? Or do you need more rest?”
The day had been eventful. The shopping, the kiss in the kirkyard, those horrible bandits.
She’d wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around Hiro and pour out her love and pride while accepting his comfort.
But then she’d had to dine with the Boobtitskys, pretending nothing was wrong, as Hiro felt forced to abandon her.
Why couldn’t he see that she wanted him at her side, always?
He thinks he is not good enough for you.
Which was obviously nonsense.
Anyone who couldn’t see how magnificent he was, who couldn’t understand why she might love him, wasn’t someone she wanted to know.
What had he asked? Oh yes. “Tomorrow, I think,” she finally admitted. “But I still say we should go to York to spend Christmas with your family. You have not seen them in an age.”
Finally, he tipped his head to one side, meeting her gaze. “Perhaps. But your brother is a duke, and wants you there.”
She bristled slightly at the stupid belief that her family was somehow more important. “Have you heard from him?”
A hesitation, then Hiro’s chin dropped slightly. “I had a letter from him.”
She had not.
Still, perhaps this was the time to make her suggestion… “Hiro, I know Christmas is a special time for family, and I will be pleased to see mine again, but…”
He squeezed her shoulder. “I told Alistair you would be there for at least a month.”
She winced. “A month? We are supposed to be in the south of France by the end of January.”
It shouldn’t be possible to shrug while crammed together in a tight bunk, but Hiro did. “We can push it back. Alistair—”
“Alistair!” she growled, pushing herself upright, missing his warmth already but too peeved. “Alistair. Here he is again, interrupting us! Who cares what he wants?” she demanded as she swung her legs from the bed.
“I do,” Hiro murmured quietly from behind her. “He pays my salary.”
Salary. Amanda’s eyes fluttered closed at the hurtful reminder that this was a job to Hiro.
Time to try again. “I want to see my family,” she began as calmly as she could manage. “Of course I do. I just…” She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, staring down at where her hands rested on her bare knees. “I found a book in the hotel library.”
His hand went to her lower back, fingers spreading warmth, although he said nothing.
Amanda hoped it was a good sign. “It was about the legends of the Borders. There is a little town called Hearthwell-on-Cozing. There is a well there…” She swallowed. “A magic well.”
A small noise from behind her. Then, “Magic?”
Her heart was thumping as fast as it had been moments ago when Hiro had moved within her. This might not be the best time, but she’d been mulling over this idea for days and had to tell him.
“It is said—that is, local legend, dating back for centuries, has claimed that if, during the Christmas season, a couple throws a coin into the well from their clasped hands…” She took a deep breath. “They are destined to be married.”
The hand which had been stroking her back stilled. After a long moment, Hiro finally said in a dull voice, “And you want to go there?”
Of course I do! “The Christmas season lasts until Epiphany, Hiro,” she blurted, twisting on the bed to see his impassive expression. “We could visit Effinghell—or even York—for Yule, then go to Hearthwell. The Borders are not too far from either, just think—”
“I am thinking!” he spat out, sitting so suddenly she had to lean away or risk being crowded off the bed. “You’re the one not thinking.”
She gaped, uncertain if she should be angry or hurt.
“Mandy, what the hell,” Hiro growled, running a hand through his dark hair, tugging at the strands in that way he had whenever he was frustrated. “You want to go to this magical village and what? Throw a penny in the well?”
“Or a gold piece. By the end of the Christmas season,” she offered in a small voice.
“Yes! And then what?” He rounded on her, dark eyes tortured. “Then what? Then you expect us to marry? Thanks to this magical well?”
Amanda pressed her lips together, hating the burst of joy his words had made her feel. The hopelessness in his tone told her he didn’t think it possible.
“I’m a butler, Mandy,” he blurted, reaching for her in supplication, as if begging her to understand. “I can’t marry a sister of a duke!”
She pushed herself to her feet, ignoring her nudity, needing to stand on firm ground in this conversation. “You can if you love her.”
“My heart doesn’t matter.” He shook his head and slumped back, defeated. “Alistair’s letter? It contained more money and news that he’s increasing my salary.”
She tried to force a smile, tried to be happy for him, but he cut off whatever words she might have managed with a cruel slash of his hand.
“He’s increasing my salary because I keep you happy, my lady.” One side of his lips pulled into a sneer. “He’s paying me to keep you happy, Mandy. You know what that means?”
Dimly, she could only shake her head as she wrapped her arms around her waist. It was all going wrong. Days of thinking about the festival, of wanting to tell him—
Hiro’s eyes fluttered shut in despair. “I know how to make you happy, Mandy.” There was a bitterness in his words. “Oh, yes. And Alistair is paying me to do it. Does that make me a whore?”
Oh.
Oh no.
Oh no no no!
Amanda’s eyes widened in horror.
Is that what Hiro thought? Is that what he thought she thought? “Hiro, I—”
“I can’t marry you, Mandy,” he said quietly. Sadly. “I won’t.”
Tears were pricking at her eyes and Amanda whirled away, groping blindly for the red silk pooled on the floor. She needed something, some kind of armor against this horrible feeling of despair and guilt.
All these years that Hiro had been with her, had it been because of his feelings for her? Or because she was merely a job? If he wouldn’t marry her…did that not answer her question?
Taking a deep breath Amanda turned back around to face him, cinching the sash tightly around her waist, welcoming the way it made it difficult to breathe. Or perhaps that was her lungs, refusing to work properly.
“I do not think you a whore, Hiroshi Fukuyo. I never have, and I am entirely devastated to learn that is how you think of yourself.”
He was leaning against the pillows and his eyes didn’t open, but the corners of his lips curled sadly. She knew he’d always appreciated when she called him by his full name, since so many only were willing to call him the shorter version of what they called his ‘difficult’ name.
But of course she knew his full name. Of course she used it. She knew him. She loved him.
Amanda took a deep breath.
“I love you, Hiroshi. I have, for ages. I think you are the best man in the whole world—and trust me, I’ve been all over the world, looking.
But if you do not think there is a future for us, then I suppose I can accept that.
But please, please do not give up on the life we have built for ourselves now. ”
Our life of adventure.
His dark eyes opened, and his gaze raked over where she stood, defiant and barefoot in the middle of his small hotel room. Where she should never be. An adventure.
But all he said was, “The South of France?”
She swallowed, uncertain what this meant for them. “I am going to Effinghell tomorrow.”
He sighed, then lifted one hand to scrub across his face again. The movement lifted the cotton sheets—not the silk in her suite—and revealed his delicious chest and arm muscles. She knew she shouldn’t admire him, not at this moment, but how could she not?
There was something in her throat. “And you’ll come with me, won’t you—to Effinghell?”
“I think…” He dropped his arm and met her gaze. “I think I ought to visit my parents in York. I’ll hire you a carriage with trusted men.”
Her nod was jerky, her heart was breaking. Amanda stumbled backward, reaching for the door knob, praying she could make it back to her suite before the tears erupted.
It was a vain hope.
“Goodbye, Hiro,” she whispered, yanking open his door and throwing herself into the corridor.
Luckily she remembered the way back to her floor, because she could barely see in the near-darkness and wasn’t helped by her blinding tears. Her heart felt as if it had fallen into a million pieces, but she forced herself to hold onto hope.
Hiro hadn’t said he was giving up on them. He hadn’t even given up on their grand adventure; he’d only said he was visiting his parents.
So why did it feel as if one part of their lives was ending?
Perhaps it was.
Amanda clutched her robe closed, hand on the wallpaper to help her find her way, and forced her breathing to slow, her sob to quiet.
Things weren’t over yet, not entirely.
The Epiphany was still a few weeks away, which meant she had weeks until the end of the Christmas season to hold onto that prayer.
The Christmas season…and the legend of Hearthwell awaited her.