Love's Fiery Jewel (37 page)

Momentarily unable to break contact with his glance,
Amethyst noted the small smile that lurked on his lips as
he nodded absentmindedly to the woman speaking so
vivaciously in his ear. Turning her attention back to her
companions, she thought with a small stab of amusement, "Poor fellow, he's having as difficult a time
concentrating on his companion's conversation as I am!"

Her amusement growing as she tossed the thought
around in her mind, her smile widened, her obvious
enjoyment bringing a flash of pleasure to Gerard's face, increasing his hesitant stammer. In an effort to ease the
young man's embarrassment as he struggled to conclude
his narrative, she reached out and placed a slender hand
on his arm as she said sincerely, "Gerard, I do find you an
extremely agreeable fellow," and turning quickly,
hastened to add lightly, "as I do all you gentlemen."

Having obviously won their hearts with her kindness
to a less fortunate of their group, Amethyst was not
allowed a moment's solitude until the ringing of the bell
announced the call to supper, and a deep voice sounded
in her ear, "Mademoiselle Greer, Madame Strathmore
has asked that I escort you to supper."

Turning, Amethyst was startled to see the dark-haired
gentleman she had noticed previously standing beside
her. Completely ignoring the protests of the group
surrounding her, he offered his arm politely. Smiling
spontaneously, Amethyst felt a rush of true warmth as
her glance again met his intense dark eyes and flashing a
regretful smile to the others, Amethyst placed her hand
on the arm offered and turned her full attention to the
gentleman escorting her toward the dining room.

"Allow me to introduce myself, Mademoiselle. My
name is Armand Beauchamps. I am a business associate
of Monsieur Strathmore. And you are the ward of
Monsieur Damien Straith, the beautiful Mademoiselle
Amethyst Greer."

Flushing more from the deceit that was being practiced
on the unsuspecting group than she did from the man's
compliment, Amethyst managed a slight nod before
escaping to a more comfortable subject.

"You are new to Philadelphia, Monsieur?"

His smile broadening, the gentleman said softly, "I
would be honored if you would call me Armand,
Mademoiselle."

"And of course you must call me Amethyst, Armand."
Smiling up into the darkly handsome face looking down into hers as they walked into the dining room, Amethyst
did not see the anger displayed so openly in Damien's
hostile expression.

The table was elaborately set with imported china,
flowers, and a myriad of delicate appetizers to tempt the
palate, but Amethyst saw little and sampled few of them.
Armand's voice was deep and melodious, his accent
unexpectedly appealing, and utterly fascinated by his
vibrant good looks and sparkling conversation, she
encouraged him to speak, her smile glowing with delight.

Stopping abruptly in the course of his conversation
midway through the meal, Armand's glance became
cautious as his brow raised quizzically. "Ali, ma petite
belle," he whispered softly, "your beautiful face reflects
far more amusement than my meager words merit, I fear.
Will you be so kind as to tell me what amuses you so?"

Her own smile widening, Amethyst replied candidly,
"I find you absolutely fascinating, Armand. You speak so
beautifully... your voice is so melodious..."

Obviously startled by her response and uncertain if
she jested, Armand replied cautiously, "Ma cherie,
certainly you do not ridicule my poor attempt at
English."

Hastening to reassure him, Amethyst moved to cover
his large hand with her own as she exclaimed with
obvious sincerity, "Oh, no, Armand, I am sincere. I find
your speech delightful! I have not so much enjoyed
listening to someone speak since the last time I heard
David Douglass perform Othello."

His expression slightly offended, Armand responded
quietly, "Do you find me theatrical in my manner of
speaking, Amethyst?"

Her own expression stiffening slightly, Amethyst
responded in the same soft tone as she withdrew her hand
from his, "I meant it only as a compliment, sir. Captain
Straith would not have me acknowledge the fact to Philadelphia society, but my beloved father was an actor,
and my mother an actress. I myself have performed on
the stage and although their occupation is not generally
accepted, I must say I am extremely proud of my parents'
talent. My father was an artist, and although my mother
and I did not quite meet the standards of his performance, I..."

"Cela suffit." Armand's soft command interrupted
Amethyst's stiff declaration. "You need tell me no more,
Amethyst, and I apologize for my ignorance."

Suddenly brightening, Amethyst said softly, "My
father. .you may have heard of him. His name was
Martin Wellington Greer."

Shaking his head, Armand smiled, his voice warm as he
responded softly, "No, I have not heard of him, ma petite,
but I have not been in this country very long, and I
understand theatricals have not been allowed since the
revolution."

"Yes," lowering her head, Amethyst stammered
softly, "that is the reason Mother and I went to Jamaica
on Captain Str...I mean Damiens ship. Papa had died
the year before, you know, and Mama could support us in
no other way. But," raising her head once again,
Amethyst shined the full force of lavender eyes into his,
almost robbing him of breath as she whispered earnestly,
"but it is an honorable profession. My father was an
artist, supremely talented. .And you, Armand, could
hold audiences spellbound with your voice..."

Her eyes wide with earnestness, Amethyst watched as
a small smile grew on Armand's face. His hand moving to
cover hers, he whispered softly, "Ma petite chou, vous
etes delicieux!" Raising the small hand to his lips, he
kissed it lightly, bringing a light flush to her cheeks as a
few heads turned momentarily from their conversation
with interest.

Not understanding his flagrant compliment, Amethyst appeared momentarily at a loss, causing Armand to
continue softly, "I am extremely flattered, Amethyst,
but I am curious. If you have been cautioned against
telling anyone of your background, why have you told
me?"

Interrupting him impatiently, Amethyst said softly,
"Armand, one does not have to read minds to realize that
you are not the sort of person who amuses himself by
breaking confidences and spreading gossip. I need no
reassurance that what I have told you will go no further."

Barely resisting the urge to caress the soft cheek so
close to him, Armand's dark eyes bore intently into hers.
He was overwhelmed by the sincerity of the youthful
beauty seated beside him, spellbound as indeed she had
proclaimed audiences would be held by his voice. But his
feelings were racing far ahead of the situation, and
amazed that he could be so affected by a woman,
especially one of such youth and innocence, he raised the
small hand once again to his lips.

From his position at the far end of the table, Damien
stared at the two heads bent so close together as they
exchanged whispers, his anger mounting. Amethyst had
not spared him a glance since she had been approached by
that damned Frenchman! Perhaps she was just trying to
anger him, but her expression was too intent, as if she
could not take her eyes from the damned fellow's face.
Barely restraining the urge to leap up and rip apart the
two heads bent so close together, Damien forced his gaze
back to his plate to toy mindlessly with his food until a
familiar voice cooed in his ear, "Damien, darling, is
something wrong?"

Glancing up, Damien looked into Merrell Bristol's
amused expression. He had completely forgotten she sat
beside him... forgotten everything but those two heads
bent toward each other in shared confidences.

The insidious cooing continued. "Your little `ward'
seems to be getting on quite well with Armand
Beauchamps, doesn't she? And he is such a sophisticated
gentleman.. .1 can't really believe he's sincerely
interested in such a sweet, inexperienced child.. .But,
of course, you would know her virtues far better than I.

His head snapping up in anger, Damien hissed
venomously under his breath, "Shut up, Merrell. I'll
stand for no more of your malevolent innuendo."

Fluttering her lashes in mock innocence, Merrell
whispered softly in response, "Why, Damien, I don't
know what you mean! But it really isn't necessary for me
to say more. Certainly the evidence before your eyes is
far more revealing."

Turning her glance away, Merrell devoted her
attention to her plate, allowing Damien the supreme
torture of watching as the intimate tete-a-tete continued
for the duration of the meal.

Amethyst rose from the table, smiling as Armand
immediately took her arm. A small musicale was to
follow, and he had already asked that she sit with him
during the entertainment: Suddenly realizing she had not
spared a thought for Damien in hours, Amethyst scanned
the room for his tall figure, only to see it bent toward
Merrell Bristol as she whispered in his ear. A flash of
anger passing over her face, she thought heatedly, "I
need not worry while that woman is here to entertain
him," and turning, caught Armand's amused expression.

"It is obvious you are not overly pleased with your
guardian's attentions to Mademoiselle Bristol."

"Oh, you're wrong, Armand," Amethyst smiled
sweetly, "I'm merely not overly fond of Mademoiselle
Bristol! She's a nasty bitch!"

Startled by Amethyst's unexpected declaration, Ar mand gave a short hoot of laughter before managing to
subdue the amusement Amethyst's remark had stimulated. Taking her arm even more firmly than before, he
struggled to say through his laughter, "Ma petite chou,
vous etes une delices... une deuces..." Shaking his
head at her bewildered expression, he continued in
English, "I have not enjoyed myself so well in months,
ma petite Amethyst, and I do not intend to have you get
away from me so quickly." Darting a look toward the
somber group of young men in the corner who eyed him
covetously, he said softly, "Even though it was a deceit
that brought us together."

Amethyst's eyes flashed wide in apprehension. Not
realizing the cause of her concern, he continued hastily,
"I merely mean that Madame Strathmore did not
instruct me to take you in to dinner. It was my own idea, a
complete prefabrication on my part, for which I
apologize." Noting the relief that covered her face, he
said quietly, "Then you do forgive me my small untruth,
ma cherie? Bon...I did not wish to begin with a lie
between us."

Noting the manner in which Amethyst averted her
eyes from his, Armand upbraided himself mentally,
Caution, fool. You frighten her with your impatience.
She is still a child... you must go slowly.

Squeezing her arm gently, he urged her forward.
"Come, cherie, the music room will soon be filled. If I
cannot sit beside you for the duration of the entertainment, the evening will be ruined."

Bright violet eyes turned up to his once again, and
shaking his head with amazement as his jaded heart
leaped unreasonably in his chest, Armand was startled to
realize that his statement was entirely sincere.

The first musical presentation was a cello solo of
dubious merit. Seated beside Armand in one of the
precisely arranged chairs in the music room, Amethyst had ample time during the performance to note that
Damien sat directly behind her with Merrell Bristol on
one side and Stephanie Morgan on the other. A short
glance in his direction immediately ascertained his anger,
and although she could not perceive its cause, she had no
doubt that it was directed at her. Severely inhibited by
his presence, her conversation with Armand became stiff
and polite, devoid of its former spontaneity. The cello
solo was nearing its end when Armand leaned toward her,
a small frown creasing his brow. His hand moving to
cover hers, he whispered softly,"Amethyst, ma petite, is
something wrong? Have I offended you in some way?"

The lavender eyes quickly raised to his shone with
obvious sincerity as she said quickly, "Oh, no, Armand.
You have done nothing, nothing at all."

"Then why...?"

An impatient snort from behind caused Amethyst to
shoot a quick glance out the corner of her eye toward
Damien. Flushing lightly at his angry glare, Amethyst
dropped her eyes, her actions answering Armand's
question far more clearly than words.

Relieved, Armand smiled. "You worry that your
guardian does not approve of me, ma cherie? It is true
that he does seem irritated, but surely we have done
nothing that could cause his anger." When her eyes still
remained averted from his, Armand patted her hand
consolingly, "You need not worry, Amethyst. When the
musicale is finished I will speak to Mr. Straith and..."

"Oh, no, you mustn't, Armand, please..."

Her agitation was obvious, and shooting Straith a
quick look, Armand could see the man's irritation
growing. Also obvious in that quick glance was Merrell
Bristol's apparent enjoyment of the situation, and
silently confirming Amethyst's assessment of the
woman's personality, Armand found himself at a loss as
to how to put Amethyst at ease.

The cello solo ended a few tedious minutes later. With
a small sigh of forbearance, Amethyst watched as a grayhaired gentleman took his place at the piano, uncertain if
she could bear another hour of Damien's dark looks and
Armand's aggrieved puzzlement. A sudden burst of music
from the piano startled Amethyst from her somber
thoughts. The melody was lilting, the tempo gay and
exciting, lifting her spirits despite herself until Amethyst
smiled, turning quickly to Armand to whisper, "The
melody is beautiful, is it not, Armand? What is this tune?
I don't recall having heard it before."

"I cannot tell you its name, but it is a waltz, cherie."