Rogue in the Regency Ballroom: Rogue's Widow, Gentleman's Wife / A Scoundrel of Consequence. Helen Dickson
Читать онлайн книгу.
father had spared no expense.
It was after dinner that same evening when Henry brought Lord Prendergast into the conversation. He was seated in the elegant drawing room beside his wife, swirling his brandy around the bowl of his glass and smiling a trifle fatuously upon his only child, glad to have her home again. However, there was an air of certainty about him that Amanda found disquieting and reminded her that now was the time to tell him about her marriage and put that particular subject to rest once and for all. Taking a deep breath, she plunged in.
‘Mr Quinn told me you have aspirations for me to marry that gentleman, Father. Unfortunately, it’s quite out of the question. Besides, he’s an old fool and a dead bore. I cannot believe you could imagine him to be an eligible suitor for anyone, let alone your only daughter. I have something to tell you that may come as something of a shock. If so, I apologise, but it is done and there is no going back.’
‘And what is that, may I ask?’ Henry’s face lost its relaxed amiability and became cold, hard and wary; he sensed she was about to divulge something that would not be to his liking.
Amanda’s eyes met his, suddenly sharp, questioning, and she quailed inside as she began to explain calmly and reasonably about her marriage to Christopher Claybourne. ‘Before I left Charleston, I—I met someone and married him.’
Henry’s face took on the look of a bright red apple and his eyes almost protruded from their sockets. ‘Married! Did I hear you aright? Like hell you did. What is the meaning of this?’ he bellowed, a vast disapproval in his tone, which asked what the devil she had been playing at.
‘The meaning? Why—I got married, that is all,’ Amanda said in defiance of his thunderous glower, his quick-to-anger attitude reminding her of why she had taken the reckless step of marrying Christopher Claybourne. ‘You agreed that I could do so—should the right man come along,’ she reminded him pointedly.
‘Aye, I did that, but I also remember insisting that I must be informed before you entered into any marriage contract. Married? And you did not consider it important enough to inform me—your father—first?’
Sensing that her husband’s temper was straining at the leash and knowing she was the only one who could soothe it to manageable proportions, Caroline put a soothing hand on his arm, taking his glass and placing it on a side table. ‘Listen to what Amanda has to say, Henry,’ she voiced mildly, for there was something about her stepdaughter’s manner that alerted her to a state of affairs unknown to either of them. She smiled reassuringly at the young woman opposite, who returned her smile, grateful for her support.
‘Who is he?’ Henry demanded, hoisting himself to his feet and glaring at his daughter.
‘Christopher Claybourne.’
‘Do I know him?’
‘No, you couldn’t possibly.’
‘What sort of man is he—a gold-digger?’ he bellowed, holding on to his anger until he knew what the devil was going on. Amanda’s impulsiveness was not something he cared for.
Amanda sprang to her feet, anger flashing from her eyes, her voice harsh with tension. ‘No—far from it. That is a vile, horrible accusation and you have no right to speak that way of a man you have never met. Christopher has no use for your money, Father, and if you are to be offensive before you’ve listened to what I have to say, then there is no more to be said.’
Amanda looked ready to stride from the room, but Henry put a restraining hand on her arm, giving her a narrow, quizzical look. ‘Did you plan to outwit me by marrying this man? Is that it?’
The two faced each other in timeless attitudes of belligerence until Amanda capitulated and lowered her gaze. ‘Yes,’ she replied truthfully, knowing her father would be sure to detect a lie, ‘but I never meant to hurt you and I’m sorry if I’ve made you unhappy, but had you ever listened to me you would know that when it came to choosing a husband I would do it. When I went to Charleston, you hoped I would find a man to marry—a man you would consider suitable to be your son-in-law. Christopher was eminently suitable. Our marriage was sudden—just before I left Charleston. There was no time to write and let you know.’
She went on to explain her marriage to Christopher as best she could—the crime he had been accused of, and the sentence duly passed, she omitted. Her father looked at her, listening to what she had to say incredulously, reluctant to let go of his anger. ‘Christopher was a fine man, Father—handsome, too. You would have liked him. He also had an active interest in horses—he was a wonder with them—broke them in and trained them himself in a way you would have envied.’
Caroline stood up and went to her husband. His face was still angry. He wanted to curse, to explode with resentment, but, because he knew his wife in her own quiet way wanted him to listen to Amanda, he clamped his mouth shut.
In the space of seconds Caroline considered Amanda’s shuttered face and correctly assumed it was a façade to conceal some sort of deep hurt. ‘You speak of your husband in the past tense, Amanda,’ she remarked softly. ‘What did you mean when you said your father would have liked him? And why did he not come with you to England?’
Amanda turned her gaze on her stepmother, her eyes having taken on a pained, haunted look. ‘Christopher—he—he died.’ Her voice was soft and sad, no more than a whisper, and Caroline felt her heart go out to her.
‘Oh, my dear—I see. I’m so sorry. So your mourning is not only for your Aunt Lucy.’
‘No.’
Henry shook his head slowly as he tried to come to terms with his daughter’s situation and her loss. As suddenly as it had come, the dreadful fury vanished. ‘So—no sooner do you find a husband than he makes a widow of you. I’m sorry, lass.’ He became thoughtful. ‘He was a Claybourne, you say? One of the southern Claybournes? Not that I’m familiar with any of them.’
‘I—I believe so—although the family is large and I am uncertain as to which branch he belonged.’
‘Aye, well, he had the right pedigree and that’s what’s important. And he died, you say.’
She nodded. ‘A week after we left Charleston,’ she said, wording it to imply that Christopher had died on board ship while not actually telling an untruth. She imagined telling him the truth, and immediately cancelled the vision. Generous and loving he might be, but understanding he was not.
‘And has he left you well taken care of—financially?’
Amanda sighed. Trust her father to think of the money aspect. He might bluster his way through his social life, but when it came to business he was deadly earnest. ‘We—we were married for such a short time. Now he is dead I want to put it behind me. I don’t expect or want anything from his family.’
Henry frowned, thinking this highly irregular, but, seeing how despondent she seemed and not wishing to distress her unduly, he decided to let the matter rest for the time being. No doubt Quinn would provide him with the details.
‘Aye, well, I am sorry for your loss.’
Amanda nodded slightly, as if accepting his comfort. Inside she was full of self-disgust at deceiving her father.
‘So, you are a Claybourne now. I suppose it will take some getting used to. You’re also a widow and will be of age soon. You’re your own mistress and I can’t stop you doing what you will.’
Amanda put her arms about his rotund middle and placed her head on his shoulder. ‘I won’t disappoint you, Father, I promise.’
Peering down at her, suddenly anxious, he said, ‘It would be well for you to consider marrying again—and soon. I’m not getting any younger and I want to see you taken care of.’
‘Never fear.’ She laughed. ‘You’ll outlive us all—long enough to bounce your grandchildren on your knee.’
And so began a time of frenetic activity. Little was said of Amanda’s marriage and her dead husband—the