Anne Barbour (32 page)

Amanda whirled at his approach and stood abruptly, just as she had that other time. Now, however, she remained upright, staring at him as though at a demon with horns and a tail.

“Ash! What are you—?” She swayed then, and catching her in his arms, he eased her back into the pew. He lifted his gaze to the Charlie, who displayed a gap-toothed smile.

“Don’t mind me, gov’ner. I’ll just be waitin’ over yonder.” He rose and shuffled into the shadows in the other side of the church.

“No!” exclaimed Amanda. “Don’t go! You—I must—” But the portly figure had already disappeared into the darkness.

“Amanda, thank God I found you in time. Were you—were you going back to—?”

“Yes, Ash. I’m sorry you came because this is something I must do, and I had hoped to leave without any further—unpleasantness between us.”

“But you can’t, Amanda. That’s why I came. To apologize for the things I said to you this morning. My dearest love, I have behaved very stupidly, but I hope you will forgive what I said. I didn’t mean them. I seem to have a great deal more pride than is good for me.”

Amanda smiled faintly. “Yes, I guess you could say that.
But
don’t you see, Ash—?” she stopped suddenly. “What did you call me?”

Ash gathered her closer to him. “My dearest love,” he answered softly. “It took me a long time to realize that, and—”

Amanda sat bolt upright. “But I’m not your dearest love.” Her heart was pounding painfully. “Lianne is your love, and with me gone, you will be able to return to her. You have enough money now, so that—”

“My God, do you think I am concerned with nothing but money? Having the money is good, but don’t you see, without you, restoring the Park—and all the rest—doesn’t mean a damn. As for loving Lianne—” He slid an arm about her shoulders and began pressing small, soft kisses against her hair, her forehead, and her cheeks. “Contrary to popular opinion, my own included, I never really loved her at all. My feeling for her was a boy’s infatuation to which I clung stubbornly far into the time when I should have outgrown it.”

“But—today—” Amanda was conscious of a treacherous surge of hope rising within her. “You and she were—kissing.”

“Anything you saw, my dearest love, was an expression of friendship. I will always love Lianne as one would a cherished childhood memory. She will always be my friend, and, I hope, yours, too. The occasion for the buss on the cheek was her betrothal to one Reggie Smythe-Wolverton.”

“Oh.” The hope rose higher, despite Amanda’s best effort to quash it, until she could almost feel it lapping at her heart. She dared not believe that Ash did not love Lianne. Even less could she allow herself to believe that he loved her. She wanted it too much, and it had been her experience far too many times that what one wanted most in life was the least likely to be granted.

“What?” she whispered, aware that Ash was speaking again.

“I was just wondering if we could shelve the subject of Lianne for the moment. I would much rather talk about us.”

Amanda’s throat tightened painfully. “There is no ‘us,’ Ash. We agreed to a marriage of convenience, and I do not think I could bear that.”

“Nor I, love.” His fingers stroked her cheek, creating swirls of wanting in places within her that she had not even known existed. “I realize our relationship has been—well, stormy—up till now. For so long I thought you a beautiful nonentity, and when I discovered you were something quite different, I didn’t know how to change my perceptions.” He smiled wryly. “It didn’t help to discover that someone quite different turned out to be outrageously independent and irritatingly outspoken. How was I to know that, though I could not fall in love with a lovely wax doll, I’d topple like a tree for an enchanting termagant.”

He cupped her chin in his hand and turned her face up to his. His eyes, thought Amanda dazedly, were like mist glinting in a summer dawn. “After the things I have said, and the manner in which I have behaved toward you, I can hardly expect you to fall into my arms.” He laughed shakily. “But, oh, my darling, if you knew how badly I wish for you to do just that.”

“You don’t think—?” She could hardly form the words. “That I—that I’m a freak?”

“Oh, my God,” said Ash. “Is that what you—?” His arms tightened about her. “No, my darling, I think you a unique phenomenon, to be treasured and explored and loved.”

He kissed her cheek, very lightly. Just a butterfly touch, really, but suddenly, something seemed to crack inside Amanda, like a fault line shifting deep within her. In a moment the crack widened into a veritable chasm through which bubbled a stinging warmth that flooded her throat and eyes. He loved her! Really loved
her—
not the Barbie doll who greeted her each morning in the mirror, but the flawed woman behind the blue eyes and the pink mouth.

With one hand she traced the line of his jaw and brought his face closer to hers.

“Oh, Ash. I’ve already fallen—so hard it’s a wonder I’m not covered with bruises.”

For an instant, Ash paused, and in his eyes the mist vanished, leaving only the warmth of an early morning sun. His mouth came down on hers, urgent and demanding, but with an aching tenderness that drew a shuddering response from her.

“And you will not leave me, Amanda,” said Ash when he lifted his head at last. “You will marry me and stay with me and live with me and have my babies and—”

“Yes, to all of the above,” she answered tenderly, and it was a very long time before anything was heard in the little church beyond the rattle of carriages outside and small, throaty murmurings that would have made no sense except to persons in love.

At last, Amanda glanced around. She peered into the shadows, but saw no sign of the watchman.

“He is gone then?” asked Ash. “Who was he?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t believe I ever will. It may well be that I shall never see him—her—again.” Pressing one more kiss on Ash’s mouth, she rose. “I think we better take me home now. If Mama and Papa should arrive first—”

Ash shuddered graphically. “I daren’t consider the consequences. Why, I might be forced to marry you.”

Amanda laughed. “Aha, you’ve fallen into my trap, you poor man.” Taking Ash’s arm she moved with him down the aisle toward the door.

“Do you think,” asked Ash after a moment, “that your mama and papa would be amenable to pushing up the wedding date?”

“You do not wish to wait a year?” Amanda paused and turned to brush her fingertips over his lips. This action, not unnaturally, resulted in another long, sweet kiss, at the end of which Ash spoke unsteadily.

“I do not wish to wait five minutes, you unprincipled wench. However, I might be willing to compromise. How about next week?”

“Mm. I’m not sure how these things are done here, but I think a week might be pushing it.” Amanda smiled mistily into his eyes. “But I, too, would like to get an immediate start on those babies.”

Once more, progress to the church exit halted for some moments.

“Very well then,” said Ash at last, his voice ragged. “We shall present Ma and Pa Bridge with an ultimatum. They agree to a wedding in a month’s time, or risk the unscheduled and very premature appearance of their first grandchild.” Dropping a kiss on the top of Amanda’s head, he continued. “So, there remains nothing to discuss except our wedding journey. Would you prefer Paris or Rome? Or possibly Vienna?”

“All of them sound wonderful, but—oh, Ash, I want to go first to Ashindon Park. I can’t wait to begin living there with you. And then I’d like to tour England.” She glanced at him shyly. “I’d like to know more about my newly acquired native land.”

“Excellent choice. I shall enjoy showing you ‘this green and sceptered isle.’ ”

“Starting with Chawton, if you please.”

“Chawton?”

“Yes, it’s in Hampshire. There’s someone there I’d like very much to meet.”

Ash lifted his expressive brows, but said only, “Anything you wish, my love.”

“Actually,” said Amanda with an insouciant grin, “I plan to ensure the solvency of our descendants by purchasing first editions and stashing them in Ashindon Park—starting with Jane Austen. And, let’s see—oh! Charles Dickens is three years old now. We’ll be able to buy up all his stuff for future reference. As for the immediate future, I think we should invest in railroads, and—”

“I think you have much to teach me, my love,” said Ash, a little startled.

“Indeed,” said Amanda as the church door swung shut behind them. She raised a misty gaze to Ash. “But not nearly as much as I have already learned from you, my love.”

“Indeed,” said her betrothed, enfolding her in his arms once more before handing her into the curricle. “And now we shall have all the time in the world to continue both our educations.”

“All the time in the world,” echoed Amanda softly as the curricle rattled off into the beginning of a new day in Regency London.

For Rosemary Rozum Yirka, wise and witty and altogether a sister-in-law to be treasured.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

I wish to thank P. A. Zepp for her medical advice on my heroine’s unfortunate situation.

Copyright ©1996 by Barbara Yirka

Originally published by Signet (ISBN 0451187237)

Electronically published in 2008 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228

http://www.RegencyReads.com

Electronic sales: [email protected]

This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.