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Authors: Brenda Joyce

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BOOK: A Lady at Last
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“We have nothing in common, Lady Belford, except for your daughter!” He laughed coldly. “And I know exactly how you conceived Amanda. You were very young, you were swept off your feet by a dashing naval officer, perhaps while on holiday, and now there is so much regret.”

She stiffened. “You are correct. I was very young—I was Amanda's age—and I was swept off my feet and taken advantage of! Carre was a very dashing young naval officer when we met,” she said harshly.

Cliff stepped closer and leaned down, their faces almost touching. “You did not raise her, did you, until she was four? Amanda wasn't torn out of your arms by her thieving father, was she?”

Her eyes widened. “Is that what Carre told her?”

“Yes.”

She shook her head. “I was sent to a convent to have her, as all unwed young ladies are. My parents intended to give her up to an adoptive family, but one of the sisters there notified Carre and he came and took her some time after she was born. I do not know precisely when.” Dulcea took a breath, and touched his arm. “Cliff, even you know that is the way of the world. I could not ruin my future before it even began.”

“Did you ever care about your child?” he demanded.

“Of course I did! But I knew her father was caring for her. There was no other choice.”

He leaned over her. “There were many other choices, if you had a mother's heart. Tell me. You will not even tell Belford that she is your cousin, will you? You do not wish the inconvenience—or is it a matter of finances? Do not tell me it is Belford you fear. You control him and we both know it.”

Her face became hard, almost ugly. “I made a mistake many years ago,” she said slowly. “But you would not understand, as you're a de Warenne, born with a silver spoon to dine with and too many estates to count! I made a mistake, but Belford came along and I have a proper life now. Come, de Warenne. Surely you do not expect me to take my long-lost daughter in and suffer the vicious gossip, the attacks on my character, the loss of my reputation?” She paused for breath. “You have pushed me to the wall and I must admit it, our finances are strained. We cannot afford to launch a young woman into society right now. We are living on credit. It will be difficult enough to launch my own daughter when she is of age.”

“Then maybe you are taking the wrong lovers,” he said softly.

She slapped him.

He deserved it, he decided, but Amanda did not deserve such a mother. She would be miserable in this home. “You have no heart, madam,” he said, preparing to leave. “Not only do you refuse to take her in, you offer no solution to her dilemma.”

She seized his sleeve. “What will you do?”

“I will not tell the ton the truth, if that is what you are thinking.” But what would he tell Amanda?

“Can she not stay at Harmon House? Surely there is room. Perhaps you can employ her, so she might earn her meals and the roof over her head.”

He began to shake with rage and knew he must leave before he placed his hands around her pretty little throat and began choking her. “Amanda will become a lady,” he managed. “It is her due, her right!”

He saw some of her tension ease. “I am not heartless, Cliff,” she finally said. “If you intend to present her, then you mean to find her a husband. But she has no dowry,” she said carefully.

He had never been more revolted. “Madam, do not concern yourself with Amanda's prospects. It is the height of hypocrisy. Good day.” Incapable of bowing, he strode for the door. He had to leave her presence before he gave in to his rage.

But at the door, he whirled. She stood, as still as a statue in the center of the room. “You have relinquished all maternal rights this night, as far as I am concerned.”

She stiffened.

He held up his hand, which was shaking. “I would not send her here, to such an uncaring, unkind person, under any circumstance. Understand this. She has been in my protection since she left Jamaica Island, and she will remain in my protection until she is wed. Good night.”

And not giving her a chance to respond, he stormed from the house.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

H
E HAD NOT RECOVERED
his composure by the time he reached Harmon House. Cliff stormed inside, aware that he was late for supper. But the house was oddly quiet, and he realized the ladies were not in. They must have had supper plans.

Rex limped out of the library, clad in evening clothes. “I thought we were in a hurricane, from the sound of the front door slamming. What is wrong?”

Cliff glanced up the winding staircase, wincing. How was he going to tell Amanda the truth? She was going to be crushed and he did not want her to suffer over her despicable mother. He turned and went into the library. “I just spoke with Lady Belford. She is far more than a whore. She is a bitch.”

Rex's eyes went wide. He closed the door behind them. “I have never heard you speak of a woman in such a manner!”

Cliff faced him. “She is the most selfish person I have ever met. She doesn't care at all that her daughter is here—she is far more interested in her own comfort and care and that of her legitimate children. And that was said while she was trying to seduce me to her bed.”

After a pause, Rex said, “Are you certain you did not misconstrue her actions and words? I imagine she was shocked by the news you brought.”

Cliff laughed. “Trust me, I did not misconstrue anything. It doesn't matter. After spending a half an hour with her, I would not send Amanda to her, not under any circumstance. Amanda is better off without her mother. The woman is heartless.”

Rex was gaping. “Cliff, you can't mean what you have just said.”

“Oh, I mean every word.” He stomped to the sideboard and poured a double shot of whiskey. Downing it, he downed another one.

“Slow down!” Rex exclaimed. “I see you are very upset, and all this over the fate of a woman you barely know.”

That annoyed him even more. “I know Amanda better than I know anyone.” He poured another drink, but cradled this one in his hands.

“Really? You have known her for exactly six weeks,” Rex said, staring closely.

“I have known her for most of her life,” he returned, thinking about all the times he had seen her roaming the island and swimming in the sea. “And we are mates. She has shared the middle watch with me every night. She rode the storm with me. A voyage changes men, Rex. Bonds are forged that can last a lifetime.”

“Apparently it has changed you,” he murmured.

“You wouldn't understand…I am her protector, but it is more than that.” He walked over to the window and stared outside at the night. It continued to rain.

Rex came to stand beside him. “You are going to tell her that her mother is at Belford House? You are going to tell her the truth?”

He slowly turned, feeling dread. “How can I? How can I not?”

“You do not want to hurt her with the sordid truth, yet you do not want to lie,” Rex remarked.

“Precisely.”

“Cliff, do you care for any advice?”

Cliff sipped. “I should love your advice.”

Rex smiled. “Then this is a rare moment, because no one is as headstrong as you, except for Devlin. If you lie to her, you will regret it. I am certain. She has every right to know who her mother is, and that Dulcea Belford does not care to be responsible for her.”

Cliff had already reached that conclusion. “She has suffered so much. She continues to grieve for her father. Amanda is one of the strongest women I have ever met, yet she is also, conversely, so vulnerable, so emotionally fragile. She deserves to be loved. I do not want her hurt another time!” he exclaimed. “I cannot stand the idea that she will shed a single tear over that selfish woman.”

“Are you really certain Lady Belford is so black hearted? Perhaps she is really afraid of her husband and the scandal. Perhaps she does care for Amanda, in her own way.”

“And what way is that? To put her own welfare over that of her daughter? I am a parent. I would die for my children, Rex. And I would certainly suffer some scandal if that is what I had to do to provide for them.”

“Well, you do not have to decide what to say tonight,” Rex said. “Will you be all right? I am to join the countess, Lizzie and Eleanor at the McBanes'. I delayed going over only in the hopes of learning what happened at Belford House.”

“I am beyond disgust, but I am fine. Go, enjoy yourself, and give Rory and his wife my regards.”

Rex smiled. “Proceed with care, Cliff,” he said cryptically, and he limped out of the room.

Cliff finished his drink, debating whether to tell Amanda the truth about her mother or not. If he withheld the truth, she would continue to grieve the loss of her father, and in time, she would be better able to withstand another blow. On the other hand, London society was very small and Dulcea Belford lived a few blocks away. It was inevitable that, at some point in time, Amanda would find herself in the same room with her mother, or with someone who knew her.
If only they did not resemble one another so greatly
, he thought. But someone was going to make the connection, and when that happened, Amanda was going to learn that her mother was Dulcea Belford, not Dulcea Carre.

It was better coming from him.

 

A
MANDA HAD FALLEN ASLEEP
. She dreamed of the great frigate, the storm and Cliff de Warenne, and in her dreams, she was fantastically free, riding the
Fair Lady
's decks, soaring over the waves, with Cliff at her side, powerful and beautiful, a force of nature, absolute and relentless. She was thrilled that they were at sea again, but then her dream became confusing…. a beautiful lady was there, beckoning to her. But whenever she turned to try to find the lady, the woman disappeared, as if a ghost. Yet Amanda knew she wasn't a ghost. And then she heard her whisper,
“Amanda.”

Amanda turned, becoming frightened, for she was no longer on the deck of the ship but in a grand and empty ballroom, and she was alone. Worse, she was supposed to be in a ball gown, but instead, she was in her ragged breeches and one of Cliff's shirts.

“Amanda.”

She panicked, turning wildly, looking for the beautiful lady, but the ballroom remained empty.

Where was the lady, she wondered desperately, for she realized the woman had to be her mother.

And suddenly Cliff was there.

She didn't see him, she sensed him, and her terrible anxiety eased.

And in that instant, Amanda was awake, her dreams forgotten. She blinked.

She had fallen asleep with the lights on, as she had been reading, and the fire was crackling in the hearth. Cliff stood on the threshold of the room, staring at her as she slept.

She sat up, tossing hair from her face. “Cliff.” She smiled, still half-asleep. He was the man of her dreams and she had never been happier to see anyone.

His gaze slid over her. “It's early. I didn't realize you were asleep,” he said stiffly. “We'll speak tomorrow.”

Amanda was wearing the beautiful lace nightgown, the one that gave her the appearance of an elegant lady. He thought so, too; she could see it in his eyes. She leaped from the bed, racing to him before he could turn and step through the doorway. “I was reading and I fell asleep. Don't go, please!” She smiled coaxingly at him.

His gaze fell to her bodice and then jerked up. “You must be exhausted. I heard you crying out. Are you all right?”

“Yes. I was having strange dreams.” She hugged herself, thinking about calling on her mother as soon as she had the appropriate attire. “Will a seamstress be here tomorrow?”

His eyes flickered. “Yes. Do you have a robe?”

“Your sister brought me some of her things,” Amanda said, wondering at his request.

“Why don't you put a robe or a shawl on?” He sent her a tight smile and faced the fireplace.

Amanda stared at him before she went to an old rosewood armoire with paneled doors. Eleanor was a good six inches taller than she was, but she slipped on the cotton wrapper she had been given, one trimmed with pink ribbons and lace. Cliff was uncomfortable and she knew why. His male nature was taking over again and she was acutely aware of it. She could feel it there in the room with them, the hot desire, the huge tension.

But there was more than that. He seemed grim and even upset. “Are you all right?” she asked, approaching.

He turned, glanced at the wrapper, now belted, and nodded. “Of course I am. Come, let's sit down. There's something I wish to discuss.”

Amanda was instantly wary. She sat down on the small sofa before the fireplace, and so did he. “What has happened?”

He forced a smile. “Amanda, I have been doing a great deal of thinking. And I don't want you to worry about anything. I said I would secure your future, and I meant it. You do trust me, don't you?”

“You are beating around the bush,” she cried, very alarmed now. “I know that is what you said, but I am going to be living with Mama, and in the end she is going to be the one to force me into marriage with some stranger.”

His odd smile remained. “By the time you wed, it won't be to a stranger. I am sure you will be very excited about your husband. All brides are in love on their wedding day.”

She gave him a look. “You are really worrying me. We both know many brides are terrified of the brutes they are being tossed to.”

His smiled became even more fixed. “You are never going to be thrown to any brute, as you have just put it. Amanda, how would you feel about staying here at Harmon House?”

She jerked. “What?”

“How would you feel about it?”

Her mind raced inanely. “What about Mama?”

His smile faltered. He took her hand, tightly. “You have nothing to worry about. You have a place to stay here and I will look after you—as will Rex, my mother, my sister, the entire family, in fact.”

Amanda felt cold. She shot to her feet. “What happened?” she heard herself ask, but she somehow knew. He had seen Mama—or Mama was dead.

She began to tremble, but the clawing fear was so awful that she refused to feel it. Mama couldn't be dead, because Papa was dead, and that meant she was alone in the world, except for de Warenne, who was going to sail away sooner rather than later.

But it was as if he had read her mind. “You have me, remember? I swore I would not abandon you, and I won't.”

“Is Mama dead?” she managed, fear choking her. She forced it as far away as possible.

“No. But I saw her earlier.”

Amanda looked at his handsome face and saw that he was terribly distressed. She had never seen him really upset before, and she understood.

It was as she had thought. Mama didn't want her.

“Your mother is married to Lord Belford, Amanda. Her name is Dulcea Belford now.”

Amanda jerked with surprise. This she couldn't understand; this she hadn't expected. “She knew Papa died?” But how had she received word so swiftly?

He took her arm. “She married Belford long ago. They have two children.”

Mama was married to Belford? And had been married to him for years? “But that's impossible—she was married to Papa,” she gasped in utter confusion. Her heart raced in wild alarm.

He put his arm around her. “I know this is a shock, but she was never married to Carre.”

Amanda pulled away, panicking. “You are babbling! I don't understand! Of course they were married, Papa told me so.”

He was looking at her so sadly that, in her shrieking heart, she realized he was telling her the truth.

“This doesn't change the brave, beautiful woman that you are,” Cliff said softly.

Amanda stared at him, incapable of thinking or feeling. It was too dangerous to do either. He stared back, wetting his lips, but he did not speak again.

She knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, what was happening, but it was better not to really know, not to understand. “So I am staying here.”

He took her hand again. “With me.” His smile was awful, a parody, strained.

Oddly, she couldn't care that she would stay with him. She pulled her hand away and stood there, no longer breathing, her heart no longer beating, feeling as frozen as an iceberg. She had never been so cold.

But the whispers began in the back of her mind, no matter how she tried to deafen them, to ignore them.

Papa lied.

They were never married.

I'm a bastard.

Mama is Lady Belford.

“Amanda, come sit with me. Let's talk calmly about this. Life can be unfair sometimes—we have all suffered, in one way or another—but there is a bright side. I can launch you far better than she ever could. And we can go sailing,” he said, smiling. “Anytime you like.”

Amanda didn't hear him now.

BOOK: A Lady at Last
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