The Prodigal Daughter (29 page)

“Now
that
is an insult..” He glared at Thorne until the man reddened. “I am not so dishonorable. One thing I do know is that she will send me away with a flea in my ear if she does not return my regard. Amanda is one person who will toadeat no one. She loved Jack, and will never settle for less – which is why the plan was such a gamble. She is still mourning him. It may be months before she is ready to consider marrying again. I hope this confession does not lengthen your list of complaints against her, by the way. She has never done a thing to attract my attention.”

“You fell in love with her in the short time you have been here?” asked Thorne incredulously.

Norwood ran frustrated fingers through his hair. “No. Actually, she has been plaguing me for months, though I never considered her as aught but a witch and a nuisance. I met her last summer.”

“The night you were injured,” recalled Thorne.

“Amanda was treating the casualties. I broke my arm, among other things, and came the duke quite horridly at her. She not only refused me instant attention, but coerced me into assisting with an amputation.”

Thorne’s choking resolved into laughter. “Her mother would have done just the same,” he admitted. “I made her life miserable trying to change her into the haughty aristocrat my father demanded. I trust you won’t make that mistake.”

“You approve the connection, then?” asked Norwood.

“I have admitted my own errors. Amanda and I reconciled when I took her home last night.”

“Thank you,” said Norwood softly. “That will do more to further my suit than anything I could say. She has been badly hurt by the rancor that existed between you for so long.”

“I invited her to the ball,” said Thorne. “Do you wish to talk with her beforehand?”

“No. That would be rushing my fences unpardonably. Now that the urgency is gone, I would rather get Emily’s betrothal out of the way and then court Amanda properly. I have little doubt that Englewood will return in time. I suspect they did not leave until five. A carriage departed about then. He should have them back this afternoon. In the meantime, I will speak to some friends and start enough rumors that we can cover this debacle in the eyes of society.”

“Do you feel as out of control as I?” asked Thorne unexpectedly.

“Possibly,” agreed Norwood. “Amanda seems to have that affect on the pretentious. Since I met her, I have found myself nursing injured peasants, fighting fires, hauling coxcombs out of rivers – which has to be the most useful thing I’ve done in my life – and questioning everything I thought I believed. Three months ago I was a typical, arrogant duke. Now I don’t know what I am.”

“You understand, then. I have lost my temper more in the past three months than in the previous fifty years. Her return has forced me to reexamine events I thought I had buried. My mother has complained about my behavior, two dukes have spoken to me as to a wayward child, my neighbors and tenants look at me as if I were Judas, and my usually obedient daughter has eloped with another impossible suitor.”

“Stevens isn’t that bad,” objected Norwood. “I’ve no reason to decry him as a brother-in-law, and not just because he saved me from a sticky situation.”

“Maybe it will work,” conceded Thorne. “Amanda seems to have done well with hers. I had best try a different approach with Marianne. I doubt I could cover up a third flit.”

“Stress affection instead of consequence. That should take care of matters.”

Thorne poured another brandy. “I feel better about the way Amanda has overset my life now that I know she’s done the same to you.”

“Young Taylor called her a witch,” murmured Norwood. “I believe she is. There is something about her that restores youthful idealism to even the starchiest prig. No wonder Jack was such a hero. With Amanda around, he couldn’t be anything else..”

Chapter Eighteen

Norwood returned to his room and finally managed a couple of hours of sleep, awakening refreshed and more in charity with the world than he had been in years. The breakfast room was occupied only by an earl who had arrived late the evening before. The men were long-standing acquaintances, though they had never been close.

“Morning, Norwood..” He nodded his head as the duke entered.

“Penleigh..”

“Congratulations,” the earl said once Norwood had been served and the footman had retired.

“For what?”

“It is no secret that this is a betrothal ball,” scoffed Penleigh.

“True, but not mine.”

The earl stared in astonishment. “But everyone in town knows you are marrying Thorne’s oldest daughter.”

“As usual, rumor exaggerates,” explained Norwood with a sigh. “It is true that I have been courting the lady, but I have not yet made an offer. She is still grieving the death of her husband at Waterloo.”

“But she only came out last Season.”

“You must not know the family very well. Lady Emily did indeed make her bows recently, but she is Thorne’s second daughter, the first by his second wife. She will be announcing her betrothal tonight.”

“I could swear you were courting her last Season.”

“Just keeping a paternal eye on the chit,” Norwood assured him. “After all, I’m nearly twice her age and hope she will be my sister..”

He turned the conversation to other topics, refusing to say anything further about the situation at Thorne.

Norwood was more open with Geoffrey. They wandered through the gardens while he explained events and extracted a promise to support the planned story.

“My condolences,” Geoffrey said when the tale was finished.

“Not necessary,” replied Norwood. “I had already discovered that it was an ill-fated match and was looking for a way out.”

“How are you going to explain your presence?” his friend asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

“I am courting someone who lives in the neighborhood.”

“It won’t wash, Nicholas. Aside from the fact that Lady Emily is the only one around here who merits consideration as a duchess, you have made no effort to see anyone else.”

“Ah, but you’re not thinking, Geoff,” he protested, shaking his head. “Not only have I been seeing someone else, I’ve actually fallen in love with her.”

“Who?”

“Lady Amanda.”

“I had forgotten about her,” he admitted. “What luck that she is also Thorne’s daughter.”

“Quite. I only hope she’ll have me.”

“You sound uncertain. How could anyone turn down a duke’s offer?” asked Geoffrey. “And a wealthy one, at that.”

“She would if she does not return my love.”

“You don’t know?”

“What do you take me for?” demanded Norwood angrily, turning a flashing eye on his friend. “I’ve not been in a position to discuss the matter with her. In fact, the only reason I am mentioning it is to explain my presence and protect Emily’s reputation.”

“But you are serious?”

“Absolutely. And devilishly nervous. I don’t know how to broach the subject, or even when.”

“She is not at all what you were looking for when you came to town last Season,” observed Geoffrey.

“No, she’s not, thank God. I must have been mad.”

“I wish you the best. In the meantime, I will correct the confusion about Lady Emily’s position in the family..” He grinned.

With that conversation, Norwood had only one other guest to see. Thorne was apprising his relatives of the change. After asking Jameson, he found his quarry in the music room, idly playing Mozart.

“Your grace!” she exclaimed when he appeared in the doorway.

“Miss Havershoal..” He nodded. “Have you and Lady Emily made up yesterday’s quarrel?”

“What?”

“I inadvertently overheard your conversation yesterday.”

“Oh..” She meticulously closed the cover on the keyboard and restored the music to a cabinet while she groped for a response. Even from across the room he could see the blush that extended to the back of her neck. “I have not seen her today, your grace.”

“That is not surprising. She isn’t here.”

Her eyes flew to meet his, and he could see that she had not known of Emily’s elopement.

“She has learned much about herself and the world since your unfortunate spat. I presume you wish to continue your friendship?”

Miss Havershoal nodded.

“Excellent. You can do her a considerable service if you would..” And he gave her an expurgated account of events, accompanied by the innocuous explanation for Emily’s summer entertaining.

“Good heavens!”  She shook her head. “Of course I will help. The poor girl has certainly flung herself into a coil.”

“Thank you. By keeping our heads, we can extricate her from it.”

* * * *

Norwood had asked to be informed the moment that Englewood returned. A footman found him in the library shortly after two and escorted Emily to him a few minutes later. Oliver was already on his way to the study to meet with Thorne.

“Don’t look at me like that,” begged Norwood once the door had closed. Emily’s eyes were filled with terror. “Did your brother not tell you there was nothing to fear?”

“Yes, your grace, but I cannot help it.”

“I wish you had found the courage to come to me and explain instead of running off..” He sighed. “I have done you a grave disservice by assuming that a dispassionate marriage would satisfy either of us. As things stand, your preference for Stevens is the best thing that could have happened, for I have discovered that my own affections are elsewhere engaged.”

“They are?”

“Yes, so you must see that you have nothing to fear from me. I hope that we can eventually become friends, for if things work out, we will be in-laws.”

“You cannot mean that you love Amanda!” she blurted out.

“I do.”

“She will lead you a merry chase, and she is not at all what you claimed to seek in a wife.”

“She is not. But enough of that. Time alone will resolve that problem. Now pay attention so we can all tell the same story..” He quickly put her in possession of the new facts. “Your betrothal to Mr. Stevens will be announced tonight at the ball. You have spent the morning helping Amanda see after the Wilsons. Their house burned down last night, injuring several people, one of whom may not survive.”

“How do you know that?” she asked in surprise.

“I was helping Amanda treat the wounded. We can discuss the details later. For now, you must join your father and Mr. Stevens in the study. They should have come to terms. I wish you very happy, my dear, and am delighted that you have discovered someone you truly care about. I should have made you a devil of a husband.”

“Thank you, your g-grace,” she stammered. “For everything.”

* * * *

Norwood quickly gave up any hope of staying in the house. He was as nervous as a blood horse in a thunderstorm, unable to sit, unable to keep his mind on a conversation long enough to participate, unable to appear at all normal. Thinking a hard ride might help, he ordered a horse.

Would she accept him?  Had she even thought of him in that way?  She had undoubtedly known since returning home last summer that he was offering for her sister.

Every time he thought of his stupidity, he wanted to wring his own neck.

He set the horse at a high wall and galloped furiously across the newly harvested field on the other side.
Patience!
  Amanda’s voice echoed through his ears. She would probably label his present desire to charge into her house and claim her as further proof of his arrogance. And he was not even sure where she lived. Damnation!

He topped a rise and saw the blackened ruins of the Wilson farm in the distance. A shudder tickled his spine as the evening’s events returned. That had been another piece of utter insanity. He could have died. Yet he would do it again if the situation recurred. He had changed drastically in only three months. Amanda, the witch. Amanda, the charmer. She would provide something that the dukedom had lacked for a long time – compassion.

Please,
he prayed. He felt like a callow youth, his mind bouncing from one thought to another, without rhyme or reason.

The horse was showing signs of weariness, so he slowed, circling back toward the Court as he tried to plan how to confront Amanda. She had been invited to the ball, so he would see her that evening. Had the invitation included dinner?  It was necessary to his own story that it did. Amanda also must learn what had transpired between Emily and Mr. Stevens, else she might mention the truth and brush them all with scandal.

Was that really necessary? he wondered as he turned his horse toward the estate gates and Middleford. Or was he looking for an excuse to call on her?  If he was honest, he rather suspected the latter, but there was no point wasting such a good one. Accosting her as soon as she arrived at the Court was too chancy.

Ten minutes later, he halted in surprise. Amanda’s gig was pulled to the side of the lane, very near the clearing where he had discovered her in the throes of nightmare a fortnight before.

* * * *

Amanda spent the morning visiting the fire victims. On the way home, she called on her grandmother.

Lady Thorne was delighted to learn that her son and granddaughter had buried their differences, and she was even more delighted to discover Amanda’s inheritance and Jack’s relationship to Mr. Comfray. They chatted companionably over a light luncheon before Amanda excused herself to prepare for the ball.

But she had not gone home. Her spirits were too low. It was doubtful she could make it through the evening without betraying her foolish attachment to the duke. Yet she could not avoid attending. Such an action would destroy the tenuous relationship she was beginning to form with her father. It was important to both of their futures that they learn to know each other. So she was faced with trying to hide her love. She sat down on a low boulder, staring over the river, unable to think.

“Lady Amanda?” Norwood murmured from barely ten feet away.

She jumped. “Good afternoon, your grace. You startled me..” She hoped her color had not risen. For a moment it had seemed as if her thoughts had conjured him out of nothing. “How are your injuries?”