In the Garden of Deceit (Book 4) (16 page)

“I
must have fallen asleep.”

“Appears
you did,” James said, trying to control his disappointment at
her sudden retreat.

Huey
stirred next to them. “I’m still tired. Do I have to wake
up?”

“Do
you want to walk home alone, my good man?” Ham asked, a smile
easing the stern words.

Huey
bolted upright, the fatigue falling off him in a trice, and reached
for his shoes. “No, no. I will be ready in a moment. I just
need to put on my shoes.”

James
stood up and, leaning down, helped Amanda to stand. He looked down at
her bare feet, peeking from beneath the hem of her skirt.

“Seems
you need to put on your shoes as well, my dear,” he said,
raising his brows at her. “The twins are right. I missed all
the fun.”

Amanda’s
face colored, but Huey took it upon himself to explain.

“We
were dancing, James. And feeling the grass between our toes. It was
wonderful. It was all Amanda’s idea.”

“Was
it, now?” James smiled at his wife’s sheepish expression
before looking at the twins. “And I suppose you two
participated in this spectacle?”

Ham
and Harry nodded in unison, both clearly unrepentant.

“And
a fine time was had by all,” Uncle Ham announced. “In
fact, I intend on doing it again. You will join us, won’t you,
Amanda?”

“You
know I would love nothing more,” she said.

James
bent over and picked up the picnic basket, tying it to his horse.
“That’s all well and good, but you had better invite me
next time. I hate missing all the fun.”

Huey
hooted delightedly. “James missed the fun! Missed the fu-un!”

The
others joined him. James shook his head, while a chorus of
good-natured jeers was rained upon his head. Apparently, he was
either ruining the fun—according to Derrick—or missing it
altogether.

Amanda
hung on to Uncle Harry’s arm as she struggled into her
stockings and boots. The men tactfully looked away to avoid seeing
more than they should, although James watched her from the corner of
his eye. She wore a sly smile as if the jesting at her husband’s
expense greatly amused her. He did not mind. They could laugh at him
all day if only she would continue to look that happy.

“I
see I have everyone’s respect today,” he said, hiding a
grin of his own. “Since you’ve all had the pleasure of my
wife’s company for these many hours, I’m going to steal
her away. I’ll walk Amanda home and you jolly fellows can see
to yourselves.”

That,
naturally, brought more derision from the men, but Amanda’s
earlier good humor appeared to dissipate as he caught her looking at
him apprehensively.
Damn!
was she afraid to be alone with him?

Shortly
thereafter the uncles took their leave. The blanket still lay on the
ground and, plainly avoiding his eyes, Amanda reached for it. James
grabbed the corners opposite her, hoping to appear helpful, but what
he really wanted was to force her to acknowledge his presence. She
set to the task at hand, without looking at him, increasing his
frustration.

As
they came together with the last folds of the cloth, their fingers
brushed. James halted, his hands closing over hers, the blanket
between them. She raised a startled gaze to his. Now that he had her
attention, he could not for the life of him think of what to say.

“I’m
sorry about this morning,” he said at last, deciding that was a
good place to start.

Amanda
glanced at their hands again, so that all he could see were her dark
lashes fanned across her cheeks.

“Perhaps,”
she swallowed, “perhaps I am the one who should apologize.”

James
was so surprised all he could say was, “Why?”

She
tried to pull away from him but he tightened his grip on her.

“Why?”
he insisted.

“I’m
not sure exactly.” She looked at him, and her brown eyes were
reddened with unshed tears. “You’ve been trying to mend
the breach between us much more than I have. It’s only that…I
can’t get passed this feeling of betrayal. You and Papa
scheming.” She paused, her attitude at once defiant. “I
don’t like feeling stupid, James.”

“My
dear, how can you feel stupid? It’s not your fault.”

This
time when Amanda struggled against him, he released her and she
finished folding the blanket with hands that visibly shook. James
took it from her, tossing it over the horse’s saddle.

Her
gaze traveled across the open meadow, seeming to settle on the
distant figures of his uncles as they trudged on home. She was silent
for a long time, but he sensed she was trying to tell him something.
James remained still lest he interrupt what he assumed was a very
tenuous moment. He wanted to hear what she had to say.

“I’m
going to try, James. I agree with you. This estrangement is not
healthy. The die is cast and my future settled. I accept that.”

The
air seized in his lungs. Just as he was about to tell her she need
not worry, that he had decided to release her from their bargain, she
surrendered. Unsure how to respond, he stared at her open-mouthed.

Every
honorable instinct told him to give her time, to reassure her that he
was willing to wait. But a baser part of him refused to cooperate. He
didn’t want to wait.

“You
will participate?” he asked roughly.

He
had the horse’s reins in hand, towing the animal, as they began
their own trek home. Amanda walked next to him, but she was looking
down, and he could not see her expression. Thus all he had to go on
was the rigid set of her back and an attitude that was hard to
interpret.

“Amanda?”

“I
don’t know, James. It’s not something I want to think
about right now.”

“I
do. I want to know what to expect. Do I have a wife who welcomes me
freely? Or can I expect only a grudging cooperation?”

“What
to expect? That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Certainly, I would
like that understanding as well.”

“You
know exactly what to expect from me. I want you. I’ve never
made a secret of it.”

“Yes,
if we are talking the basics. Not very flattering, however, when one
expected so much more.”

“Why
are you making this more difficult?” he asked, stung.

Amanda
stopped, hands on hips. Her gaze was now direct, and it sparked black
fire at him. “I am going to make my best effort to move beyond
this thing. I haven’t a clue how long it will take, or how my
feelings will change. Or if they will ever be the same. That is the
best I can do for you right now. If that is not good enough, then so
be it.”

“Reluctant
lovemaking is hardly inspiring,” he said coolly.

“James,
make up your mind. You told me my participation was unnecessary, only
my cooperation. I intend to cooperate. If you require more than that
then we are at a standstill.”

“We
can’t move forward if this is how you feel.”

“I’m
trying to be honest with you. There have been enough lies between us,
enough dissembling—”

He
winced.

“Not
just you, James. I’ve been hiding my true feelings.”

“Not
well.”

Amanda
flung up her hands, clearly exasperated. “Perhaps, I haven’t.
It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you want promises. I
can’t make you any.”

“I’m
not asking for promises.”

“Yes,
you are. You want to tell me not only what to do, but how to feel. Do
you think I have the power to feel something simply because you want
me to? I can’t change my feelings for myself, no matter how
much I want it. How do you
expect
me to do it for you?”

They
finished their walk in stony silence. James was appalled that all his
good intentions from only a short while ago could so easily be
destroyed. He had meant to reassure her, to tell her he loved her.
But fear of rejection, the conviction that she would treat his
declaration with suspicion, kept him from saying what he knew she
needed to hear. Unfortunately, she was correct. It was he who wanted
reassurance, and he did not deserve it.

As
they reached the house, James turned toward the barn.

“James?”

He
looked back. Her beauty at that moment was like a blow. The late
afternoon sun shone off her dark hair, loose curls blowing gently
around her face. The animosity she had exhibited earlier appeared to
have left her but not her resolve.

“You
must decide what you want,” Amanda said. “Whatever that
is, I will be ready. Tonight. And that is the only promise I can make
you.”

She
left him there, staring after her retreating figure, and less sure of
himself than he had ever been before. His thoughts slipped inward,
aroused by the possibilities. Would he go to her tonight? James truly
did not believe he had the willpower to stay away.

***

CHAPTER 11

Amanda
bathed before dinner, fragrant water that lapped sensuously against
her skin. Despite her desire to remain aloof, as she lay in the tepid
bath, scenario after scenario trailed through her mind at what the
coming night might bring. Never had she been more aware of her own
body. She was filled with equal parts anticipation and dread.

Interestingly,
she had turned the tables on her husband. She was almost certain he
had intended to come to her tonight. Now if he did, however, he was
coming at her invitation rather than his insistence. The result was
the same but it felt entirely different.

She
wondered where James was at the moment, assuming he was changing for
dinner in another room. So far their forced cohabitation had not been
as uncomfortable as she had feared it might be. Except for sharing a
bed for the sake of appearances, there had been little conflict over
privacy. She supposed he was being considerate of her sensibilities
and then perversely feared he was avoiding her.

Amanda
dressed with extra care for the coming evening, a rose gown with high
lace collar and gauzy silk sleeves to her elbows. She wore a modest
hoop, which she infinitely preferred over the more extreme ones.
Actually, she preferred no hoop at all, but fashion was fashion, and
she was not a rebel. She did forego her gloves, though, since it was
only a family gathering.

With
the help of Aunt Henry’s maid, her dark hair was twisted high
on her head, a sprig of baby’s breath accenting the graceful
knot. She completed her ensemble by screwing dangling garnets with
tiny pearls on her ears and slipping a matching ring on her middle
finger.

Amanda
stared in the mirror, but the woman who gazed back at her looked more
assured than she actually felt. Now that it was time to go down, her
self-confidence was waning, her stomach so nervous, she wondered if
she could eat. Unfortunately, her only choices were appearing at
dinner or raising concern when she did not. She opened the door.

As
Amanda reached the foot of the stairs, she could hear everyone
talking and laughing. The men had all gathered in the drawing room it
seemed and, from the sound of the lone female twittering, Aunt
Henrietta had joined them. She drew in a bracing breath, lifted her
skirt and waltzed into the midst of them.

The
twins and Huey greeted her with genuine affection—James
remained apart from the fray—surrounding her and doling out so
many compliments, she was embarrassed. It was truly gratifying.

Aunt
Henry was equally kind. “My dear, you are stunning. Is there
any color you cannot wear?”

“One
or two I’m not fond of,” she demurred. “Puce is
vile, I think. So dull, not much of a color on anyone.”

Henry
looked at her oddly for a moment. “Yes, well…perhaps I
should discard that one dress,” she murmured.

“Dear
me, I, uh—”

Amanda
stuttered to a stop and glanced across the room at her husband, who
was watching her with a devilish gleam in his eye. James raised his
glass of sherry, saluting her, and the warm approval in his
expression caused the heat to rise in her body, starting at her toes
and not ending until her face burned. His gaze was lazy and seductive
and spoke of things to come, and for her very life she could only
stare back at him mesmerized.

Oh,
he was sure of himself! And from her immediate response, she knew he
had the right to be. That left her feeling very uncertain of her own
ability to remain unmoved should he visit her later. And she wanted
that confidence. As much as she knew pride was a detriment to solving
their estrangement, she needed hers to protect her bruised heart.

Amanda
turned away but he was at her side within moments. And there he
stayed. James wore formal black, though he managed to look casually
elegant, not stiff, despite his attire. His cologne was enticing, a
subtle though constant reminder that he was near.

Now
and then she would feel his hand cup her elbow as they moved about
the room, his thumb lightly caressing the dimple there. She sensed a
possessiveness about the gesture that caused a deep and forlorn
longing to overtake her. Please don’t let him be toying with
me, she thought, girlish hope warring with pragmatism.

After
dinner found everyone in the drawing room again, Huey proving his
prowess at chess—against a hapless James—while the twins
rooted shamelessly for their younger brother.

Amanda
joined Aunt Henry on the sofa. “Is it always this
rambunctious?” she asked the older woman over the shouting and
laughter.

“Always.
My brothers have always enjoyed the company of one another. It was
even more exuberant when Herbert was here. We miss him.”

“I
imagine you do.”

“Yes,”
Henry went on, her fond eye on her nephew, “but James is a good
substitute for his father, much like him, in fact. It’s been a
pleasure to have him home. His presence has eased some of the pain of
our loss.”

Amanda
made a polite sound of understanding. “But the dowager does not
seem to join in the family gatherings much.”