A Persistant Attraction (27 page)

*

Couples swirled before him on the dance floor and the air buzzed with conversation, but Rhys’s mind was focused on the small, wrapped box that sat on the mantel at home.

When he and Amanda returned from Lady Morgan’s ball he would present the gift to his wife. His heart pounded at the thought.

He was done playing the coward. The last weeks had been the happiest of his life.

Even the threat of Mouton’s return hadn’t lessened the thrill of falling in love with Amanda.

When they’d married, he’d given her a ring that had been in his family for generations. It was beautiful, but much too ostentatious to suit her. That afternoon, he’d gone to his favorite jeweler and picked out a ring that match Amanda’s fiery personality and her understated style, a single square-cut ruby flanked by two small diamonds.

He planned to present it to her with a proper proposal and the suggestion that they have a second ceremony in Cornwall. They could solidify the relationship growing between them and celebrate their union with their tenants. He prayed she would accept him and make their marriage a real one.

Amanda thanked her partner for a lovely dance then scanned the crowd, hoping for a glimpse of Rhys. She’d grown tired of the constant buzz of chatter and longed for a breath of fresh air in the garden. When she failed to find her husband after a few moments of searching, she decided to venture outside on her own. Rhys wouldn’t approve, but she feared if she remained in the packed ballroom much longer, she might faint. D’Eglantine and Mouton had yet to surface, and she was having an increasingly difficult time remaining vigilant. She wouldn’t venture off the terrace where surely the number of people about would keep her safe.

She stepped through the open doors of the ballroom, and the breeze refreshed her instantly. Several couples stood or sat around the edges of the terrace. Feeling secure, she found an empty bench at the edge of the gardens and settled onto it, wishing decorum

didn’t prevent her from putting her tired feet up. She’d not sat out a single dance since the party had begun. Her scandalous sudden marriage and subsequent disappearance from society had made her quite the popular partner.

Raucous laughter drew her attention. She turned her head to see a group of young men stumbling along one of the garden paths. She wondered what they’d been doing out in the dark—nothing good that she could imagine. “Hold on, I’ve lost the damned necklace. I’ll never prove I was with her without it.” The men stopped, all of them bending down to search the ground for the lost object.

Amanda’s stomach knotted at the thought of the poor girl they’d likely taken advantage of. Did she know they’d kept her necklace? Amanda fought against her desire to rise from her bench and give the men a set down. She knew they’d only laugh at her, so she slumped lower, making sure they didn’t see her.

“Got it,” one of them called.

“Well, at least that’s one dashed bet I can win.”

“You never stood a chance with the Ice Princess.” Amanda’s heart skipped a beat. Were they talking about her? She didn’t recognize any of their voices.

“No doubt I’d lost as soon as Stanton threw his hat in the ring.” Bile rose into Amanda’s throat.
Dear God, no
.

Another of the men laughed. “The man’s a legend. We all knew he’d be the one to crack her ice.”

“That he is. Of course he’s the one who lost in the end. He had to marry her.”

“I hardly think that will slow him down. Once he begets an heir on her, he’ll be back to his usual round.”

“Shame. It’d be nice not to have the competition. Let’s get back to the ball. The night is young, and I’m nowhere near satisfied yet.” The others laughed as their feet crunched on the path.

Tears burned at the corners of Amanda’s eyes. Had everything between her and Rhys been a lie? Was she nothing but a prize to him? A prize he intended to discard as soon as

he’d had a sample. She knew things were going too well. She’d allowed herself to believe a man like Rhys could actually fall in love with her when she’d known all along she hadn’t a chance at winning the heart of a rake.

The young men’s words echoed in her mind.
We all knew he’d be the one to crack
her ice
. Could Rhys really have done such a thing? If they’d seen his name in the club book, then surely he had put it there. But even if they were wrong, he could never be the type of husband she wanted, one who’d stay by her side forever.

Her head swam as she stood. She had to leave. Aunt Claire would worry if she disappeared, but she couldn’t go back inside. She would be forced to make idle chatter with countless individuals before she found her aunt or her sister in the throng, and what if she saw Rhys? She would kill him unless her agony made her heart burst first.

She rushed down the path that led to the back gate, not once considering how unsafe it was for any young woman to wander the London streets alone, much less one who been pursued by deadly villains.

Though she was never able to recall the journey, she managed to arrive home. The house was still and quiet—thankfully Rhys must have told the servants not to wait up for them. She raced up the stairs. How long did she have before he came looking for her?

She grabbed a valise and started stuffing it with random personal articles and bits of clothing.

Moments passed before she realized tears were pouring down her cheeks. The quiet tears turned to sobs. She abandoned her packing as they wracked her body. Caitlin, her maid who’d come with her from her aunt’s house, found her thus.

“Madam, whatever is the matter?”

Amanda looked up. She wiped at her tears, ashamed that Caitlin had seen her crying.

“We’ve got to leave.”

“Why? What’s happened?”

“Mr. Stanton is not the man I thought he was.” Caitlin cocked her head to one side. “But you already knew that, madam.”

Amanda took a deep breath, pushing her sadness deep inside and forcing her tears to stop. “What I mean is that he’s exactly the man he’s reputed to be, completely incapable of love.”

Caitlin shook her head. “Pardon me for saying so, but I can hardly believe that, seeing the way he looks at you.”

Amanda resisted the urge to scream at the young woman. “Then you can stay with his household. I’m leaving.”

Caitlin took the valise from Amanda’s shaking hands. “My place is with you. How long will we be away and where are we going?” Amanda’s head pounded as she tried to make a decision. She needed to leave London. She could go to Cassandra. She had no doubt her sister would take her in for as long as she wanted to stay. But what she truly wanted was to be alone. Cornwall. She would be welcomed at Rhys’s estate in Cornwall.

The servants there would simply think she’d come down from London early, so she wouldn’t have to explain her presence. For a few days at least, she would be blessedly alone. Rhys would find her there, but she could hardly avoid him forever—she was too practical to believe that. Even after suffering such a shock, she was still sensible to the core. Eventually, they would have to come to an agreement about how to conduct this sham of a marriage.

“Lady Morgan, have you seen Amanda?”

The older woman frowned. “Now that you mention it, no, not for some time. I’d expected her to be hovering around me constantly, informing me I’m too frail to be on my feet and other such nonsense.”

Rhys smiled. “She only frets because she loves you so much.” Lady Morgan sighed. “I know she does. She loves you too, you know. Whether she says it or not.”

Rhys heart hammered against his chest. He prayed Amanda’s aunt was right, but before he would know for certain, he had to find Amanda. “I’ve been looking for her for quite some time but no one seems to have seen her recently.” Lady Morgan laid a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry. It’s hard to find anyone in this crush. I’m sure she’s fine. Have you looked on the terrace?”

“I told her not to leave the ballroom without me.”

“And you think she would let that stop her if the mood struck her to get some air?” Rhys sighed. “Right you are, Lady Morgan. It’s a delightful rout by the way.”

“Thank you. Now go find my niece and bring her to me when you do. I’d like you to start the procession into dinner.”

Rhys stepped onto the terrace and nearly ran into a party of three young rakes, hanging drunkenly on one another. “Excuse me.”

“Looking for your wife?” The speaker was Lord Tolliver, a despicable young man known for his love of ruining debutantes.

“Yes, actually, please step aside.”

“I saw her in the gardens earlier.”

One of the others, whose name Rhys could not recall, suddenly paled. “You don’t mean she was there when we were searching for the necklace?”

Rhys’s heartbeat accelerated. He grabbed Tolliver by the cravat. “What did you do?” Tolliver had the nerve to smile. “Nothing.”

Rhys looked at the other two. “If you intend to leave the party alive, you’ll tell me what is going on.”

The one who’d spoken before said, “We happened to discuss the bet you placed, the one about seducing Miss Halverston, I mean Mrs. Stanton.” Sick horror twisted Rhys’s insides into a knot. He hadn’t thought of that ridiculous bet in weeks, not since he’d infiltrated d’Eglantine’s secret society. If Amanda had heard them—

He tightened his grip on Tolliver. “What did you say?” Tolliver laughed.

Rhys released him, then punched him so hard, he crashed to the ground. Tolliver lay there, unmoving. Drunk as he was, he wouldn’t be getting up any time soon. Rhys knew all the guests who been taking the air on the terrace were now staring at him, but he didn’t care. All that concerned him was finding Amanda and making things right, if that were even possible now.

“Would either of you like to tell me what he said?” Both men spoke at once.

“You.” Rhys pointed to the man who’d spoken before.

“Tolliver mentioned the bet and said how you’d won but really you’d…”

“I’d what?”

“You’d lost because you had to marry her.”

“Did he say Amanda’s name?”

“He called her the Ice Princess.”

Rhys turned and ran, not caring what anyone thought. Knowing Amanda would have fled the party, he raced through the gardens. He prayed she’d only gone home, but his instincts told him she wouldn’t want to see him, ever again. He didn’t really believe she’d be there when he arrived.

He exited the back gate of the gardens and wove through the dark streets until he arrived at his townhouse. He banged the front door open and took the stairs two at a time.

His instincts had been right. Amanda’s room was a mess. She’d already packed and fled.

*

Rhys knew the driver was pushing the horses to their very limit. As it was, they would reach Devon in record time, but still he wished the carriage could go faster. He might never win Amanda back, but at least if he could see her, he would have a chance.

Doing something was better than this hell of waiting to find her.

He’d gone back to Lady Morgan’s house, entering by scaling the trellis that led to Amanda’s balcony. Thankfully, her room was on the opposite side of the house from the terrace by the ballroom, so he was able to enter undetected.

Not wanting to worry Lady Morgan during her party, he’d sent a servant to find Elise. Explaining the situation to Amanda’s sister hadn’t been easy. His actions sounded so damn foolish when he spoke them out loud, but Elsie had listened, and she seemed to believe he truly cared for her sister.

Elise’s best guess as to where her sister would go was Northamberly Abbey, the home of their older sister, Cassandra, and Rhys’s friend Mark. Elise said Amanda trusted Cassandra more than anyone else.

Rhys had left for Devon that very night.

He replayed the night he’d accepted Mouton’s taunts and signed on to the bet for Amanda’s innocence. He wished to God he’d never gone to his club that day. But no matter how he regretted his actions, he would put his name in the book again if he had to do it over. Any reluctance on his part would have tipped off not only Mouton but the rest of the men that he had real feelings for Amanda. Of course Mouton, or at least d’Eglantine, had seen through his façade anyway. If
they
could see how he felt, why couldn’t Amanda?

The knot in his stomach tightened even more as he thought of the two villains. It was bad enough Amanda had fled thinking he’d seduced her for nothing more than winning a bet. But she’d taken no one with but her maid and a single footman despite Mouton and d’Eglantine still being at large. If he failed to protect her as he had Therese, he wasn’t sure he would survive the agony.

*

Rhys leapt from the carriage and rushed to the door of Mark and Cassandra’s home.

He’d not yet lifted the knocker when their butler opened the door and bade him enter.

“Mr. and Mrs. Foxwood are expecting you. Shall I show you to them?”

“Expecting me?”

“Yes sir. A letter arrived for you less than an hour ago.”

“And Miss Halverston?”

“What about her, sir?”

“Is she here?”

“No, sir.”

Rhys’s heart pounded as the butler opened the door to the drawing room. He prayed that the letter would inform him of Amanda’s whereabouts.

Mark and Cassandra looked up as he entered. Mark scowled. “What the hell is going on?”

“That’s quite a greeting. Is that the letter that arrived for me?” He gestured to the paper the couple had been reading when he entered.

Mark nodded. “What have you done to Amanda?’

“I’ve done nothing to her. We’ve had a misunderstanding. Why the devil did you think you should be reading my mail?”

Cassandra answered him. “A letter from my youngest sister comes for you at this address when men who wanted the two of you dead have yet to be found. Do you honestly expect us to wait and until we locate you?”

Rhys took a deep breath and shook his head. He would have done the same thing.

“Would you at least tell me what it says?”

Cassandra handed it to him instead.

Mr. Stanton,

A letter has just been delivered saying Amanda has gone to your estate in Cornwall.