Married By Midnight. Judith Stacy
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than this.
“How’s your family?” Nick asked.
“Quite well, thank you.”
A few more minutes dragged by.
“Are you planning to be in town long?” he asked.
“No,” Amanda said. “I’ll be going home immediately after the wedding.”
Nick wasn’t certain what he was doing wrong. He’d never had to work this hard at conversation in his life.
Generally, women fell all over him, hanging on his every word, giggling at his jokes. This one, however, didn’t seem to care if he sat here with her or not. Somehow, that made him try harder.
“I guess you’ll help out with all the last-minute wedding preparations today?” he asked.
That got a bigger response from Amanda than he’d elicited so far, but it wasn’t favorable. She cringed, held up her hand as if to ward off the possibility, and gave herself a little shake.
“I fear that will be my doom—destiny,” she said, and turned back to her tablet.
Nick was about to run out of small talk. Maybe if he knew what his competition was, he’d be better able to hold her attention, he decided.
He tilted his head to get a look at the tablet she was writing on, and saw that she’d made a list of some sort.
Probably some litany of the inane things women spent their time on. Nick leaned closer, unable not to. Lord, she smelled delightful. Lavender or something.
Just then Amanda sat back and frowned. She gave a breathy little sigh.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, glancing from her tablet to her face again.
Surely something was amiss. The fact was obvious from the look on her face—the lines of concentration, the frown. How endearing she looked, probably worried over some shopping problem she faced today. Nick wondered at the workings of the feminine mind. The smallest things threw them.
Amanda tapped her pencil against her bottom lip. Nick shifted in his chair.
“I might be able to help,” he offered, dragging his gaze away from her mouth.
She laid her pencil aside. “Do you know anything about concrete?”
He stilled, then leaned back. “Concrete?”
“Yes, concrete. It’s used in construction to form—”
“I know what concrete is.” He looked down at her tablet. “Why do you want to know?”
“I’m going to erect a building.”
His frowned. “You’re going to do what?”
“Erect a building.”
Nick just stared at her, not sure he’d understood her correctly.
“I’m going to erect a building,” Amanda said again. “Erect. A. Building. Erect. Are you understanding this?”
“I assure you, I have firsthand knowledge of erec—never mind.” Nick drew in a breath. “Why are you…putting up a building?”
“It’s a long story,” Amanda said, picking up her pencil again, “and not a very interesting one, really.”
The servant came into the room and served Nick his breakfast. He picked up his fork and bit into the eggs.
“Go ahead. Tell me. I’d like to hear all about it,” Nick said. “Are you building a flower shop? A dress shop, maybe? Or one of those hat places where women like to wile away the afternoon?”
“I’m building a refuge for women with children who’ve been abandoned by their husbands.”
Nick froze, staring at her. He knew he should say something, but couldn’t think of a darned thing. Anyway, it was almost impossible to speak with his foot buried so deeply in his mouth.
“All is well. All is going as planned,” Constance announced as she breezed into the breakfast room. “Today I’m going to—”
“I have to go, Mother,” Nick said, rising from his chair, glad to be interrupted before he made an even bigger fool of himself in front of Amanda—though he didn’t know how that would be possible.
“But don’t you want to hear about the wedding plans?” Constance asked, as if she couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t. “The florist is coming over today—”
“I’ll hear about it later,” Nick promised, tossing his napkin onto his plate.
“Oh, well, all right.” Constance turned to Amanda. “We’ll have such fun today. After the florist leaves, the dressmaker will be by for a final fitting.”
“Oh, yes…” Amanda smiled bravely. “Won’t that be fun?”
“Has Cecilia showed you her trousseau yet?”
“Actually, she has. Last night,” Amanda said.
“Well, you’ll want to see it again,” Constance declared. “We’ll do that this afternoon.”
“Lovely…”
The change in Amanda that Constance seemed not to notice didn’t escape Nick. Right before his eyes Amanda appeared to wilt. Her shoulders slumped. Beneath her brave facade he caught a fleeting grimace of distaste.
Was it possible that she was as tired of hearing about Cecilia’s wedding as he was?
He decided to take a chance.
“Actually, Mother,” Nick said, “I’ve already offered to show Amanda around the city this morning.”
Amanda’s gaze came up quickly and landed on him with such gratitude that he thought she might launch herself into his arms.
“Really?” Constance said, clearly disappointed.
Nick looked down at Amanda. “Unless you want to change your mind and stay here today?”
Now she looked as if she might throttle him.
“No!” She jumped from her chair, then forced a smile. “I mean, no. I couldn’t go back on my word after you so generously offered your time.”
“Well, perhaps if you hurry back?” Constance suggested.
“Can’t promise,” Nick said. He cupped Amanda’s elbow and the two of them hurried out of the room.
“Remember there’s the rehearsal tonight,” Constance called. “And supper.”
“Don’t worry, Mother, I’ll be there.” Nick led Amanda through the house to the foyer, stopping at the foot of the grand staircase. “Get your things.”
“You’re serious?” she asked, a little breathless. “You’ll really get me out of this house today?”
“Sure.”
Amanda gave him a saucy little grin. “You, Nick Hastings, are my new best friend.” She turned, hiked up her dress and sprinted up the stairs.
Nick watched her, trying to remember why he’d avoided going to San Francisco for so many years.
He wondered, too, how he was going to keep Amanda Van Patton from going back.
Chapter Five
Amanda dashed into her bedchamber. “I need a hat!”
“What’s got you all fired up?” Dolly asked.
“I’m going out,” Amanda said, crossing to the closet. “With Nick.”
“Oh, my word. I knew it,” Dolly declared, pushing ahead of her and opening the closet door.