A Lady at Last (19 page)

He stroked the huge wheel. Spray danced lightly off the hull and the mass of canvas filling the night moaned in the wind above them. “You could start your studies with England, the home of your parents,” he finally said.

“I am interested in Ireland,” she said stubbornly.

He looked at her and she saw the faintest trace of a smile beginning. “I am sure that one day, you will have the opportunity to visit Ireland, and if you are in the vicinity of Adare, you will always be welcome there.”

She thrilled, grasping his forearm. The moment she did so, she thought about every detail of her dream and jerked away. “Will you take me?” she somehow managed, her tone husky.

“I doubt it.”

She knew her disappointment showed.

“Your husband is not going to allow you to lark about the world with me, Amanda.”

She stared, stunned. “What husband?”

He sighed. “We both know you will one day wed. It is what women do.”

“You mean my mother is going to force me to wed, don't you?”

Now he turned to face her, the distant mask gone. “No one will force you to do anything. I said I won't abandon you and I will not. I said I would secure your future and I mean it. If you wish to remain a spinster, so be it,” he said harshly. “But we both know your place is at Belford House!”

She found it hard to breathe. “If you took me pirating, I could have a share of the prize and then I would not have to go to Belford House!”

“First of all,” he said, after a moment in which he could not speak, “I do not pirate and I do not plunder. Second, if you mean, would I take you on a pirate hunt, the answer is no—and it is not negotiable. Thirdly, you belong with your mother.”

“I heard,” Amanda said slowly, ‘that you ran away from home when you were fourteen.”

He stiffened. “Where did you hear that?”

“It is gossip. They all gossip about you on the streets—the ladies you have taken to bed in Kingston, in Spanishtown, in Barbados! I have heard so many rumors, and that is one of them, but I had forgotten it until now. Did you run away from your home at fourteen?”

“Yes, I did. But it wasn't
running away
. I
left
home to make my way in the world.”

“You were younger than I am.” She was fascinated now.

“I was a boy—you are a young woman!”

“Why would anyone run away from a home like Adare?”

He sighed. “It was time, Amanda, that is all. I finally understood that I had no real future there. I told you, my oldest brother, Tyrell, is heir. My middle brother, Rex, was predestined by the order of his birth to go into the army. I had no certain future to aspire to. My stepbrother, Devlin, was already sailing in the royal navy, and the sea was calling me, as well. But I do not care to answer to authority, so I decided to go it alone.”

She nodded eagerly. “And?”

“I packed a small sack and rode to Limerick. I sold my hunter there for a nice piece of change, and worked my way to Boston. We were still at war and the Americans were ignoring the British blockade, so it wasn't easy to do. But once there, I joined an American merchant ship as a topman.”

Amanda grinned. “I cannot imagine you as a young lad hoisting sails!”

He smiled back. “It was a long time ago, and the work was dangerous and difficult. But because I started at the bottom, or nearly so, I am very appreciative of every hand on my decks.”

She nodded seriously. “Yes, I can see that. But didn't your parents object to your leaving?”

He hesitated. “My father understood. I discussed it with him first. He is a great man, whom I admire and respect, and as his son, I owed him that. He gave me his permission, although he asked me to wait until I was sixteen to leave. I refused.”

“And he let you go anyway?”

“He understood I had to go, Amanda. He is that kind of man.”

“Papa would have beaten me if I ever tried anything like that. He would have never given me that kind of choice.”

De Warenne said tersely, “Your father was too quick with his fists. There is no reason to beat anyone, most of the time.”

She stared, suddenly thinking that he was right. All of those times that Papa had hit her, well, he had been in a temper and she hadn't really needed the punishment. Amanda became uncomfortable. She had never questioned her father's actions before. “And your stepmother, the countess?”

“She was very upset. She wept when she thought I would not see her crying. I felt badly hurting her, but I have no regrets. I had to start somewhere, sooner rather than later. As it was, I did not have my own ship until I was eighteen, and she was only a twelve-gun schooner.”

“You were master of your own ship at eighteen,” Amanda whispered, filled with admiration for him. “I am almost eighteen.”

“You are a woman,” he said as if reminding her.

“There have been women pirates.”

He was clearly aghast. “Don't even think it!”

She began to smile, pleased that he remained so concerned for her. “Why not? You can see that I am a skilled seaman and a skilled swordsman. Why couldn't I have my own ship? Then I could give up this farce of trying to be a lady.” She didn't mean a single word.

“You are trying to provoke me,” he said, flushed in the starlight. “I am onto your game! You could not control a crew and we both know it.”

“I
was
trying to provoke you,” she admitted, “and it was very easy to do.” She glanced at him through her lashes. It had been ridiculously easy, in fact. Just as it had been so easy to get him to lust after her with a little bit of swordplay. “I do not want to control a crew. A captain cannot control his ship if he will not commit murder if he has to. Papa has murdered more than his share of mates. I am not inclined to violence and I have never murdered anyone.”

“Thank God,” de Warenne said, his tone choked.

“Have you ever murdered a mate?”

His jaw was hard. “I have never had to murder one of my own crew. I have, upon occasion, and especially earlier in my career, used harsh discipline. But I have never keelhauled anyone, either. However, I am the exception, not the rule.”

Amanda could not agree more. “Tell me about how you came to command the
Fair Lady
,” she said, smiling.

He hesitated. “It is late. You have a full day of studies tomorrow—”

“I will be studying at dawn! Please,” she said. “I have been wondering about it for some time.”

He sighed in surrender. “It is a boring story.”

Amanda knew that was simply impossible.

 

D
E
W
ARENNE HAD BEEN RIGHT
. Exactly ten days later, Amanda stood staring at the stunning sight of London as the frigate approached. She had been to Lisbon once, when she was eight years old, but she could not recall the adventure. She had been to New Orleans several times, and Charleston, too, but she had never seen a city like this one in her life. She had never seen such a crowded harbor, such a high, jumbled skyline, so many buildings, churches, spires. London was
huge
.

She clung to the railing, enthralled. The past ten days had passed in a whirlwind of study. She had been immersed in her lessons from dawn to dusk, with almost no respite, the frantic schedule given upon de Warenne's direct orders. At sunset, too exhausted to even eat, she would collapse into her berth, instantly falling asleep. However, at midnight she would awaken with no one's help, gulp down a meal of bread and cheese and rush to join de Warenne at the helm. She simply could not miss spending the middle watch with him.

Each and every night began almost exactly the same—he would not quite look at her, his face mask-like, yet she could feel him pulling her inexorably closer, somehow. But he never tried to take her in his arms and eventually they would converse. He always knew what she had studied that day and he never failed to ask her about the specific lessons and if she had liked them.

And Amanda had asked him every question she could think of, wanting to know everything there was to know about Adare, Ireland and his life. He had answered her every question, and by the time each dawn broke, they were usually smiling. But every sunrise, when he left her alone at her cabin, she was so disappointed that the aching was not just in her loins, but in her heart.

Amanda had been dreading the end of their voyage. Although she had applied herself with all the diligence she could muster to her studies, she knew she wasn't going to fool anyone for very long as to who and what she really was. And once they reached London, she knew she would never share the middle watch with Cliff de Warenne again. Last night, realizing that, she had been moved to tears.

But she had never expected London to be such an amazing, grand and thrilling sight.

They had passed towers, ruins and castles as they came up the coast, and the city seemed to be filled with cathedrals and palaces, too.

She felt him before she heard him; his presence had become so familiar now, a huge enveloping power, a cloak of manhood and heat. De Warenne appeared at her side. “Amanda? What do you think?” He smiled at her, but his gaze was searching.

She seized his hand. “I have never seen anything as incredible!”

He laughed, but he pulled his palm from hers. “London is an alluring sight, is she not? The truth is, I am somewhat fond of this city, far more so than Paris. She is a great lady with a complicated character, a study in contradictions—rich and poor, opulence and poverty, grace and lust, devotion and sin.”

Amanda looked up at him. She could not smile and her eyes felt huge.

“Shall I show you the sights?” he asked softly.

Her heart leaped wildly. “That would be wonderful,” she cried. “Will you show me the sights today?”

He laughed. “I am afraid it is too late, but we have perhaps three-quarters of an hour's ride before we reach Harmon House, depending on the traffic. You will see plenty then, but I am afraid the West End is a facade of opulence and grace.”

“I had no idea,” she gasped, staring out at the city again. She pointed at a tall, gray castle appearing on the starboard side. “Cliff, what is that?”

He didn't reply.

She suddenly realized she had called him by his given name. She felt her cheeks heat. “I mean, Captain,” she floundered.

“It's all right. But we should not be too familiar. No one will understand the camaraderie one can develop on a ship.” He finally smiled. “That is the Tower of London, and we are almost at the Tower Bridge.”

“And we cannot go past the London Bridge, can we?” she asked eagerly.

His smile reached his eyes. “Have you read Ariella's entire guidebook?”

“As much as possible,” she admitted, returning his smile. “If you are taking me sightseeing, then I must make a list of all that I wish to see.”

“I don't mind,” he said. “I am happy to show you everything that you wish to see.”

“Then you may not leave London for years,” she teased.

He laughed. “I have never stayed in town for more than a month or so. I would die for lack of good clean air.”

Amanda sobered, hating the fact that eventually he would leave London, and she would be staying behind. “How long will you stay this time?” she whispered.

His gaze was sharp. “I haven't decided.” His regard wandered over her face. “But my stay will have to be more than a month. You've never been to the opera, have you? Or the theater?”

“I've seen plays, but in the street,” she said, her heart racing with excitement. “Are you thinking of taking me to the theater, a real theater, and to an opera?” She was amazed.

“If you are to become a lady, you will be asked to attend many such events. It would be my pleasure to escort you. In fact, if the expression on your face is anything like what it has been since we have reached London, I must insist.” His eyes had softened, searching hers.

“And I accept,” she cried happily. She felt as if she was in a fairy tale with her very own Prince Charming. She had to pinch herself to remind her that he was hardly her prince. But somehow, he had become her champion.

“We are going to make berth. We'll be disembarking in an hour.”

Amanda nodded, briefly watching him stride away, bellowing for shortened sails. Then she turned back to the railing, staring at the passing yachts and the horses and carriages on the wharves and the huge buildings beyond.

 

T
HE COACH
C
LIFF HAD HIRED
turned between high, imposing iron gates set in equally high, imposing brick walls. Amanda tensed, gripping the sill of the carriage window. The West End had been more opulent than she could have ever imagined, and they had passed so many mansions that she had lost count, each one somehow more stunning and stately than the rest. Windsong had been a palace in her mind, but it had stood alone on Harbor Street, with no more than half a dozen equally splendid homes scattered about Kingston. She knew all about society, or at least, she had thought she did, but she had been wrong. How could there be so much wealth in one place? London society made that of her island home seem pitiful in comparison.