Elizabeth Powell (27 page)

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Authors: The Traitors Daughter

BOOK: Elizabeth Powell
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Relief flooded the young man’s face, and he took her hand again and kissed it. “Dearest Amanda! I was beside myself … I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Amanda’s smile froze in place. She would have pulled her fingers away, but he held fast. “Harry, there is no need—”

“Please, Amanda, hear me out.” He fixed her with his intense gaze. “These past few days have been agony, sheer torture. It made he realize what I want from my life.”

A lump rose in Amanda’s throat. She drew breath to speak, to stop what was coming, but Harry plowed onward.

“It made me realize how much you mean to me, Amanda. I never want to lose you again. I want to be there to protect you.”

Amanda made a moue. “I do not need protecting, Harry.”

The young man did not seem to hear her. “I love you, Amanda. One word from you will make me the happiest man in the world. Marry me. Be my wife.”

She slid her gaze away from his earnest face. “Harry, I—”

“My parents adore you, and I know they will approve of the match.”

The room seemed to lurch sideways; Amanda gripped the arm of the chair with her free hand. “Harry, are you certain this is what you want?”

His eyes softened. “I have overset you. I know this is sudden, but I could not wait a moment longer. You don’t have to give me an answer now, Amanda. Just promise me you’ll consider my offer.”

Amanda needed several moments to find her voice. “I … I will consider it.”

Harry beamed at her and pressed another fervent kiss to her hand. “May I call upon you tomorrow?”

“Of course,” she replied faintly.

Harry kissed her hand yet again and departed with a spring in his step.

Amanda sat back in her chair. Once she had contemplated spinsterhood; now she was faced with a monumental decision. A grimace distorted her mouth. Harry would never have offered for her while the stigma of treason blackened her family’s name. Now that everything had worked out, he could not wait to propose. She could understand Harry’s concern for his career, but how much affection did he truly feel for her?

That hardly mattered now. She did not love Harry, and the man who held her heart was gone from her life. Marriage to Harry would please her grandmother, who wanted nothing more than to see Amanda’s future secured. But her grandmother also wanted her to be happy. So should she marry a man she did not love, or pine away for the man she loved but could never have? Either way led to unhappiness. The question was, how much unhappiness could she live with?

Everly thrust his head out the carriage window. “Faster, damn you, faster!”

Traffic around the Admiralty was congested this morning, and although he knew his coachman was doing the best he could, Everly could not restrain his impatience. He stared at the crumpled note in his hand, at the few lines of St. Vincent’s cramped and spiky lettering. She was awake. Amanda was awake, and asking after him.

Damnation—he should have been there. Well, he
would
have been, had he not made a nuisance of himself in the admiral’s household. He had lost his temper and started an argument with Lieutenant Morgan, and the two of them had kicked up one hell of a row in the hallway before St. Vincent himself separated them. His patron had been furious with Everly’s lack of control; as senior officer, he should know the value of prudence and keep his temper in check. St. Vincent had ordered Everly
to find another outlet for his nervous energy—namely, his new assignment—and promised to send word when Amanda regained consciousness.

Still, he should have been there. Everly sat back against the leather squabs, deep in thought. Now that she was awake, what was he going to say to her? For a man with a reputation for glib charm and witty speech, Everly found himself at a loss. Should he go in with his heart on his sleeve? Out of the question—he’d tried that with Felicia, and look where it had gotten him. The captain made a face, then fingered his bruised jaw. He hoped his phiz didn’t frighten Amanda out of her wits; all the cuts and bruises he had garnered during his fight with Garrett, not to mention his singed hair and whiskers, made him a gruesome sight.

A declaration might frighten her just as much, so he would have to be cautious. If her reaction to his kiss was any indication, he must leave himself room to retreat. Bah. He tugged his bicorne further down on his scowling brow. Such indecision was anathema. He knew what he must do, even if it meant risking hurt and rejection.

He arrived at St. Vincent’s town house to see Lieutenant Harry Morgan strolling down the steps. The youth had his bicorne cocked back to a jaunty angle, and he whistled a merry tune into the cool breeze. A muscle twitched in Everly’s temple.

“Lieutenant,” he said stiffly.

The younger man favored Everly with a slight, superior smile before he touched the brim of his hat in salute. “Captain,” he replied as he sauntered past.

Everly watched him depart, suspicious. Why was that insolent pup so pleased with himself? Well, no time to wonder about that now. Amanda was waiting.

He limped up the great mahogany staircase as fast as he was able, pain singing through both his leg and his bandaged hands. Equal parts of dread and excitement mixed in his blood as he neared Amanda’s room.

“Good morning, ma’am,” he said to Mrs. Tremayne when she opened the door. “How is Aman—Miss Tremayne?”

“She is as well as can be expected.” The elderly woman’s lips thinned in a disapproving line. “Fortunately, she will suffer no lasting effects.”

This statement eased the knot of tension at the base of Everly’s neck. “May I have a word with her?”

Mrs. Tremayne stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind her. She folded her hands together and looked at him with sharp, expectant eyes. “Amanda knows nothing of our previous conversation, Captain, as you requested, but I must again voice my reservations. Both you and Harry Morgan put my granddaughter in a situation that nearly took her life.”

Everly’s jaw tightened. “I agree that I should never have gotten her involved, Mrs. Tremayne. I would not have, but she worked her way around me. Short of tying her hand and foot to a chair, there was little I could do to stop her, and even now I think I would have been justified in such tactics.”

“Amanda is very headstrong, I fear,” Mrs. Tremayne stated with a frown. “Too much so for her own good.”

The captain shifted more of his weight to his cane; standing in one position for so long made his leg throb. “Yes, she is rather willful, but I find that to be one of her more endearing qualities.”

“And what of your career? Amanda will not be happy with a husband who is away at sea for most of their marriage.”

Everly arched an eyebrow. “I received confirmation of my new assignment this morning, Mrs. Tremayne. I will be able to provide a good home for Amanda.”

“Hmmm. I see. Well, Captain, I have but one more question, and I wish a straightforward answer. Do you love my granddaughter?”

His face softened into a smile. “I do.”

Mrs. Tremayne peered intently at him, as if to judge the truth of his statement, then nodded. “Very well, Captain. I shall announce you to my granddaughter. But a word of warning—she may not wish to see you.”

She disappeared back into the bedchamber. Everly stared at the panels of the door, his heart starting a
downward slide. What did she mean? Why would Amanda not wish to see him? She had asked after him, according to St. Vincent’s message. Doubtless she was upset about what had happened in the warehouse; he could not fault her for that. He would have to put her at ease, tell her that everything had turned up trumps.

He had considered a hundred strategies when Mrs. Tremayne at last admitted him to Amanda’s room. The older woman cast a significant glance at Everly before she departed. The door closed, and Everly was alone with Amanda.

She sat on a chair by the window, framed by a ray of morning sunlight. Everly was startled by her appearance. The drab gown she wore accentuated her pallor and made the purpling bruises stand out all the more on her fair skin. She remained with her face turned toward the window, one hand toying with the curls at the end of her long, thick braid.

She did not look at him. “Captain,” she began, her voice hoarse and rough. “How kind of you to take time from your duties to see me.”

This aloof greeting stopped Everly dead in the water. “Hello, Amanda. How do you feel?”

“Does it matter?” she asked in hollow voice.

He frowned. “Of course it matters! I was worried about you.”

“The doctor tells me I will recover.”

“I am relieved to hear it.” Egad, he felt like an unlicked cub, tongue-tied and nervous in the company of the fairer sex. So much for his vaunted charm. He tried again. “I apologize that I was not here when you regained consciousness. I came as soon as I got word.”

Was that the glimmer of tears he saw in her eyes, or was it a trick of the light? “Your arrival is fortuitous, Captain. You can be the first to hear the news.”

“News? What news is this?” Everly drew nearer and perched on the chair across from her. This was not going at all as he had planned. He tried to catch her eye, but she sat like a statue, her gaze fixed on the street below.

“Harry has asked me to marry him.”

Everly could not have been more shocked had a belaying pin struck him between the eyes. “What? Are you joking, Amanda?”

“My father’s name has been exonerated, and I am free to marry whom I will. Harry comes from an excellent family, and we have known each other for years.”

So
that
was the reason behind the lieutenant’s self-satisfied smile. Everly ground his teeth together. That insolent puppy had stolen a march on him! After what had happened, after the way Morgan had betrayed her, Everly could not believe that Amanda would ever consider such an offer.

“This is ridiculous. You cannot possibly marry that—that…” Everly’s voice trailed off under the influence of his fraying temper. The thought of her married to Harry Morgan was enough to curl his liver.

Amanda wrapped her arms around herself. “I must consider my future, even as you have,” she said with a trace of bitterness.

His brows snapped together. “What do you mean?”

She blinked several times, and her eyes grew bright. “When do you leave for your new command, Captain? What ship did they give you? Now that your mission is over, I imagine that you are anxious to return to sea.”

“Who told you that I was in line for a new command?”

She ducked her head. “Harry told me.”

Morgan again, the interfering twit. Everly’s anger sizzled. A wave of heat colored his cheeks. Across from him, he saw Amanda bite her lip and turn toward the window. He forced himself to take a deep breath. Panic and anger weren’t getting him anywhere with Amanda; if anything, they were driving the wedge further between them. He had to discover the real reason behind her sudden decision.

“Now
you
are vexed with
me.
Will you not tell me why, Amanda?” Everly leaned forward, intent on her answer.

A soft sob escaped her. “It is of no importance.”

She was crying, although she tried to hide it. Did the
thought of him resuming his post make her so unhappy? Dare he hope … ?

“I am not going back to sea, Amanda,” he said gently.

“What?” She clutched at her skirt “You—you’re not …”

“I was wounded during the fight with Garrett,” he explained. “The burns on my hands will heal, but the injury to my leg is permanent; I will never be able to walk without pain, and the limb will always be weak. My injuries, combined with the scarcity of command positions these days, render me unable to return to sea duty.”

Amanda gasped and looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes rounded in shock, one hand over her mouth. She began to tremble. Fresh tears edged her lashes. “This … this is all my fault!”

Everly started to reach out a hand to brush the tears away, but remembered himself. He let his hand drop. “Nonsense. If anyone is to blame, it is the French, not you.”

She took a great, shuddering breath and shook her head. “Don’t you see, Jack? If I had not gone with Harry, this would never have happened. I am so sorry!”

Everly cast caution to the wind and seized her hands, heedless to the pain in his burned, bandaged fingers. “Stop blaming yourself. It is not your fault!”

“But I know how much you wanted a new ship.” She sobbed. “I know how much you miss the sea. If I had not been so reckless, you would not have been hurt.”

Her grief struck him with the force of a full broadside. “What’s done is done, Amanda,” he said soothingly. “I chose to go into the warehouse after you, remember?”

How lost she seemed. Her anxious gaze scanned his face. “What will you do now?”

“As it happens, I have been offered a position on Admiral Lord Kenworth’s staff at the Admiralty. I may not be at sea, but I will be occupied with naval matters.” His career as a seafaring captain may have been scuttled, but given the choice of a life at sea without Amanda, and a life on land with her, he would gladly make the same decision all over again.

“The Admiralty? Is that where you’ve been all this time?” she asked in a hurt tone.

He nodded. “I would have been here, but St. Vincent ordered me out of the house after I came to fisticuffs with Lieutenant Morgan.”

“You fought with Harry?” Egad, she had turned paler still.

Everly had the good grace to be ashamed of himself. “Like two schoolboys,” he admitted. “I chastised him for getting you into such a dangerous situation, and he took offense.”

“So you’re not … you’re not leaving?” her voice quavered.

“No. I must remain landbound, at least as far as the Royal Navy is concerned.” Everly attempted a reassuring smile. With his face such a bruised mess, he had no idea if he would be successful.

Amanda swiveled away from him once more and did not answer. She covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders shook.

Everly reached out and took gentle hold of her chin, lifting her head so she had to meet his gaze. “Would it matter to you if I were leaving?” he murmured.

She looked away, determined to evade him. “Perhaps.”

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