Whispers at Midnight (8 page)

She met his warm smile with one of her own.
“Gardner, how nice to see you too.” Catching a note of his
excitement in her own voice, Amanda threw her arms around him as
well.

He pushed back slowly to arm’s length, his
hands still resting affectionately on her shoulders. “I suppose it
would be trite of me to say how beautifully you’ve grown up.” He
laughed. “But I must. It’s true.”

She felt a pleasantly warm glow flowing
through her. The smooth tone of his voice made her feel as if she
were wrapped in something soft and plush.

“Gardner, you’re delightful.” Amanda smiled
as he took both her small hands in his and raised them to his lips,
kissing each one in turn.

A moment later, he wrapped one arm around
Amanda’s shoulders, and walking step in step, led her down the
stairs. As they neared the bottom, he nodded toward Gussie, his
eyes openly amused.

He laughed lightly. “You’ve met Gussie, I
gather. She said some young woman had run up the stairs like a wild
thing.”

Amanda stopped abruptly, remembering why she
had rushed to the bedroom.

“Gardner,” she asked, her eyes questioning
his, “did anyone else come with you?”

His brows raised quickly. “No. Only
Gussie.”

Amanda frowned. Could she have been so
wrong? “I was certain I saw a woman upstairs as I came up the
steps. Would anyone else have come to the house? Or have a
key?”

He had clear, sober blue eyes that were
assessing her as he spoke. “I have a key . . . so do Ryne and
Gussie . . . and of course Cecil Baldwin. No one else.”

“You weren’t upstairs earlier?”

“No, I was in the stable talking to old Jed
Long—Groom we call him. You remember him, don’t you? He was here
when you came before.”

Whatever was the matter with her, seeing
things, hearing things? Perhaps she was far more tired than she had
realized. She sighed gently.

“So Groom has stayed. Are there still
horses?” she asked softly.

“A few,” Gardner responded. “And a
respectable carriage.” Noting her surprise, he added, “Groom wanted
to stay. I don’t think even Cecil knows he’s still here. You won’t
mind, will you?”

Amanda exhaled her breath slowly. Had she
known about Groom, she could have saved the money she’d spent
hiring a carriage and driver.

“No. Of course not,” she answered, wondering
how she would manage to keep two servants.

“Mother provided for them both,” he said, as
if reading her thoughts. “They could leave if they wished. It is
their choice to stay at Wicklow. You’ll not need to worry about
wages.” Cecil must have told him of her circumstances.

“Does Groom have a key to the house?”

“No. In fact, he doesn’t. His domain is the
stable and he prefers it that way. I expect what you saw was just
the sun hitting the glass and making a shadow.” Gardner smiled and
dropped his arm from her shoulder. “There was no one about when we
came.”

“You’re probably right,” Amanda said,
chasing those puzzling thoughts from her mind. Her expression had
grown still. She glanced at Gussie, then whispered to Gardner, “I
don’t think Gussie approves of my having the house.”

“Gussie?” Gardner chuckled. “Don’t take her
too seriously. I don’t believe she has any idea what she’s saying
half the time. Anyway, once she gets used to you, she’ll be
devoted.”

But will I get used to her? Amanda thought,
tightening her lips fractionally. Perhaps Groom would be happier
about the new mistress of Wicklow. If not, she would feel like a
thorn among the flowers in her own house.

“Well, you found her, did you?” Gussie
chortled from her spot at the parlor door. “An ill-mannered young
woman, Mr. Gardner,” she said, shaking her head. “Just send her
right on her way. We don’t—”

“Gussie,” Gardner shouted. “This is Miss
Fairfax.”

Gussie’s chin raised quickly. “Is it, now?”
She really had very observant eyes and Amanda wondered if she
hadn’t known all along. The woman made a clucking sound. There was
a slight softening of the hardness in her eyes. “Well, you might
have said so and not just come rushing in that way.”

Gardner grinned and tapped Gussie’s arm to
get her attention. “Bring us some tea in here, Gussie.”

Unceremoniously she dropped Gardner’s hat
and cane on a table in the hall and waddled away.

“I suppose I’ll have to learn to shout
louder,” Amanda said, smiling. Old Gussie was far more harmless
than she led one to believe. Amanda turned her eyes from Gardner
for a moment; they had grown warm and watery. “Poor Gussie,” she
added. “It must be rather awful for her, never hearing but part of
what’s said to her.”

“She manages.” Gardner sat beside Amanda on
the green velvet settee. “You’ll find Gussie a good cook but not
much help at anything else. She’s gotten too old and slow for heavy
work.”

“It won’t matter. Once the house is in good
order, I believe I can manage well enough on my own.” She was about
to tell him of the two women Cecil Baldwin had mentioned but
suddenly his face clouded and he spoke up.

“Then you do plan to stay, not just get the
house ready to sell?”

“Yes,” Amanda said. “I plan to live at
Wicklow. Forever.”

Gardner looked away for a moment, his face
serious, his eyes distant. But when he turned back, his lips bore a
smile.

“I think it’s splendid,” he said warmly,
taking Amanda’s hand. “No one could add more grace to Wicklow than
you.”

“Then you really don’t mind that Aunt Elise
left the house to me rather than to you and Ryne?”

“I don’t mind, not now. Oh. I admit I was
disturbed to begin with. But since then I’ve thought about it and
it seems right you should have it.” He took her hand and laced his
fingers through hers. She liked the comforting feel of his touch
and sharing the strength of his hand. “I never wanted the place.
Neither Ryne nor I have actually lived here for years,” he went on.
“Mother had a house in Williamsburg which is mine now. It’s much
nearer my business.”

“And Ryne?” Amanda asked.

“He has the lodge his father built down the
river a few miles. And there is the cottage with it, if he’s
managed to hold on to them. How he feels about your having Wicklow,
I can’t say. You’ll have to ask him yourself.” His mouth pulled
into a frown. “And, Amanda, don’t be surprised if he shows up here
unexpectedly. His place isn’t far away and he’s accustomed to
dropping by the house at times.”

Amanda’s lower lip dropped a bit.

“I know,” she said haltingly.

“Has he been here already?”

She smiled blandly. “Yes, last night.
Shortly after we arrived. He had a . . .”

“A woman with him?”

“Yes.”

“He usually does. And seldom the same one.”
Gardner paused to draw a deep breath. “I trust the situation wasn’t
too awkward for you. Ryne seldom lets a sense of propriety deter
his baser diversions.”

She colored lightly. “He left right away and
didn’t return.”

“I see.” He looked at her intently. “By the
way, I brought your trunk inside. If you’ll tell me which room is
yours, I’ll take it upstairs.”

Relieved at a change of subject, she
answered quickly, “I haven’t decided. But I suppose I’ll move into
Aunt Elise’s old room until I do.” Amanda tilted her head to one
side. “Gardner, do you remember the chess set your mother had? The
ivory-and-ebony one?”

“The one Grandfather Jubal gave her? I
remember.”

“Is it still here? I haven’t seen it.”

“She wouldn’t have parted with it. You’ll
find it packed away somewhere.” He laughed and shrugged his
shoulders. “Mother moved things from place to place in the house.
She was like a pack rat with her little treasure troves.”

Gussie clattered in at that moment carrying
the tea tray and a plate of especially appetizing cakes. She set
the tray on the walnut tea table without looking up, and then
puttered away.

Halfway across the room, Gussie stopped and
asked in her loud voice, “Anything else you’ll be needin’? I’ve got
my dinner to see to.”

“Don’t bother with it, Gussie,” Gardner said
just as loudly. “Amanda will be dining with me in town.” His voice
dropped to a near-whisper. “You will, won’t you?”

“I’d love to,” Amanda replied softly.

The little wrinkles in Gussie’s plump old
face deepened as she smiled thoughtfully at Gardner. Amanda noted
an odd gleam in her eyes before she turned and waddled away.

***

The colors of the rainbow sparkled from a
crystal bowl filled with roses. Gardner poured another glass of
Madeira for Amanda. She lifted the stemmed goblet to her lips and
sipped from her third glass of the sweet amber liquid. The Raleigh
Tavern boasted the finest dining room in Williamsburg, but another
long drive back to the city had been tiring. The trip took more
than an hour with a fast team of horses. It seemed lately she had
spent most of her time on the seats of some sort of traveling
conveyance.

Gardner watched Amanda’s lovely, gentle face
for a moment after she had returned her glass to the table. The
candlelight had lent her skin a soft, silken glow as pink and
smooth as that of the rose petals between them. The golden fire of
the candle flames shone like starlight in her eyes.

He caught his gaze roving down the silken
column of her throat to where the deep neckline of her pale green
gown dipped provocatively low. Her breathing had grown slow and
deep as she finished the last of her wine. Her dusky lashes hovered
a bit too low and too long as she folded a linen napkin and dropped
it beside her plate.

“You’re very tired,” Gardner said huskily,
bringing his gaze up quickly to a more gentlemanly height.

“Yes, I am,” Amanda answered softly, feeling
a tiny glow of warmth budding inside as the full effect of the wine
reached her blood. “And I’m afraid I’ll be tottering without your
arm to guide me to the carriage.”

“Yours to serve, dear lady,” he said,
helping Amanda to her feet and bringing his lips very near her
ear.

She could feel his warm breath stirring the
wispy little curls she had carefully trained in place.

With an easy smile on his face, Gardner
linked his arm through hers and gave all the assistance she needed
to glide across the dining-room floor and down the street to where
his carriage waited. Once under way, the wheels floated as if on
clouds. Amanda quickly succumbed to the smooth motion. Such a
reassuring comfortable feeling, and with it a pleasant masculine
scent and that of tobacco. Such a wonderful contentment. She was
stunned when Gardner’s deep voice broke the spell.

“We’re at Wicklow, Amanda.”

Murmuring softly, she stirred from within a
misty veil of sleep. The night air was cool and fragrant against
her face. Lifting up, she felt a warm weight on her shoulders and
realized that Gardner’s arm was draped around her. Amanda gasped
softly and her lids sprang open fully as she found her own arm
wrapped about Gardner’s chest and her head snuggled firmly against
his shoulder.

“Oh!” she exclaimed rather foolishly, and
sat up hurriedly, smoothing the stray curls from her forehead. She
could feel Gardner’s eyes marking her awkward confusion. At
Wicklow? But hadn’t they just left the tavern? She threw back her
head and inhaled deeply of the fresh country air. From the
brush-covered banks of the river a whippoorwill warbled its mating
call. Above the treetops a few wisps of dark clouds made a net for
the stars in a midnight sky. “You shouldn’t have let me fall
asleep, Gardner.” Amanda hoped that in the darkness he wouldn’t see
the deep flush of her cheeks.

Taking hold of her hands, he laughed
lightly. “I have found it most pleasurable to serve as your
pillow.”

The carriage stopped with a jerk. Amanda
allowed Gardner to lift her down, feeling even more unsteady on her
feet than when they had left the tavern. It was the combination of
fatigue and wine, she decided, coupled with a great lack of sleep.
She stumbled once climbing the steps, and Gardner, laughing, swept
a protesting Amanda into his arms and carried her up the remaining
ones. Flamboyantly, he swung open the wide front door and, laughing
more loudly at his squirming burden, carried her to the foot of the
stairs.

“Shall I take you up, dear lady?”

“No,” Amanda said, blushing until she was
sure she was as scarlet as the wall panels in the hall. “Leave me a
little pride,” she continued, her voice soft but insistent. She
laughed. “You’ve seen too much of wine’s effect on me.”

“As you wish.” Gardner smiled, bowing low,
then rising to take her hands.

“It was wonderful, Gardner,” she whispered.
“Thank you.”

“I thank you,” he said lightly, locking his
fingers behind her neck and bending low to kiss her. “Good night,
dear lady,” he whispered, lifting the soft touch of his lips from
her cheek.

Amanda stood on the bottom stair in the
shadow of the Turkish King, her hand resting on the curved rail of
the staircase, feeling warm and safe and anxious to carry the glow
Gardner had given her into her dreams. When he had left and locked
the door behind him, she spun lightly about and started up to her
room.

She had climbed cautiously all the way to
the top of the stairs when she saw Ryne. She almost stumbled back
and fell, but he caught hold of her arm and prevented it. He pulled
her so close to him that she could feel the hard contours of his
body. Her skin prickled all over at his touch and she inhaled
quickly and sharply.

“You are drunk with something, dear cousin,”
he said. “Is it wine or something more sweet?” He was dressed
entirely in black, his silk shirt open and hanging free of his
breeches, his black hair falling unkempt in his face.

“I am not,” she said. Though he was right,
of course. She was quite giddy and it had taken great concentration
for her to climb the stairs. Just for a moment she relaxed against
him, enjoying the feel of warm skin against her cheek, inhaling the
faint scent of sandalwood. He seemed to radiate a smoldering heat
that was slowly invading her body. But as she felt a change in him
as well, she looked up, wondering why she was so conscious of his
eyes and the dark sharp brows that rose slowly.