Amanda Scott (30 page)

“No, ma’am.”

“That maidservant ought to have stirred up the fire in here while she was about it. Ring the bell, Hetta.”

As Lady Hetta got to her feet, however, the unmistakable sound of the entrance doors opening and shutting again came through the open doorway of the great hall. There were voices, too, male and female, and then the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. Chalford and Miranda appeared in the doorway.

When they paused upon the threshold at the sight of the three persons within, Adriana leapt to her feet, aware of a fleeting look of profound relief in her husband’s eyes, replaced in a blink by burning fury. At the same time, but as a dim clamor in her mind, she heard her sister’s excited cries.

“Adriana! My God, I thought you must be dead. Oh, my dear, are you really quite safe?”

As Miranda ran into her arms, Adriana’s gaze clashed with Joshua’s over her shoulder. Though it was all she could do to speak, she said, “I am safe, goose. No one laid a hand on me.”

“An oversight that may soon be rectified, believe me,” Joshua muttered furiously. Wrenching his gaze from hers with an obvious effort, he said to his aunts, “You must forgive me if I appear less than delighted to see you at the moment, but I am persuaded that at this late hour you would be more comfortable in your beds. I will be grateful, Aunt Adelaide, if you will see Miranda tucked into hers before you retire.”

“Of course, Joshua,” Adelaide said, getting to her feet with her customary dignity. “Come along, Miranda dear. And, Hetta, don’t dawdle. You ought to have been asleep hours ago.”

“Well, but I was,” protested Lady Hetta as she followed reluctantly in her sister’s wake.

Miranda, after one scared look at Joshua and a warning grimace directed at her sister, went with them, leaving Adriana alone with her husband.

Kicking the door shut behind him with unnecessary force, he moved toward her, his mouth a thin slit in his taut face, his eyes shooting fire. His intent was clear. He was going to murder her.

She licked her lips, facing him, breathing rapidly. Had she not seen that brief flash of relief in his eyes, she might have been even more frightened, but he could not be glad to see her one moment only to strangle her the next. At least, she thought, looking into those blazing eyes, she hoped he could not.

“Joshua, I—”

His big hands clamped bruisingly upon her shoulders and he shook her, hard. “Damn you,” he said, the words coming with difficulty as though his throat were too tight to release them easily. “Your misbegotten sister told me Braverstoke’s men had killed you, that he had threatened to kill her and had ordered them to kill you before he dragged her into the boat. She flung herself, sobbing, into my arms when we got her off that damned yacht, and that’s the first thing she said to me. My God, you little idiot, you deserve to be flayed for your insanity.”

“Mr. Petticrow helped me get away,” Adriana said when he had stopped shaking her and she could catch her breath. “Did you not see him on the beach?”

“Of course I saw him. Do you think I would be here if I had not? I’d be down on that beach throttling one man at a time until I found one who could tell me where your body was.”

“They would have had difficulty telling you anything while you were throttling them, sir,” she said, less frightened now than she had been before.

“Damn it, don’t tempt me,” he growled, shaking her again. “I haven’t been this angry since I was a boy, and I cannot be held accountable for the consequences if you push me too hard. Don’t you understand that I thought I’d lost you, that I didn’t believe Petticrow until I’d seen you alive for myself?”

“Would it have mattered so much, Joshua?” she asked softly.

“Mattered? My God, Adriana, don’t you know how much it would matter?” He stared at her, his hands tightening on her shoulders, and to her shock she saw tears in his eyes.

“I didn’t know,” she whispered, adding in a firmer tone, “I told you before, I never can tell what you are thinking. You said when I feared the thunder that I must tell you when I am frightened, and another time you told me it was right for me to tell you of my anger, but you never told me anything about your feelings. Truly, Joshua, I never knew the meaning of ‘even-tempered’ before I met you. I thought for a long time that you wanted only a mistress for Thunderhill and a mother for your children. I know now I was wrong, but I thought only this pile of rock had the power to stir you to passion. I thought I could never compete with the castle in your heart.”

“I love this place,” he said quietly. “I thought for a time that you hated it. If I seem overattached to it, blame my sense of duty and the fact that I learned at a tender age to fear what would happen if I left. But you can’t say you’ve never seen my passion,” he added more gently. “There have been many times—”

“I don’t mean that sort,” she said, blushing. “I mean the sort of emotion I am accustomed to seeing in the people around me. My mother was an emotional person, and so, too, are my brother, my father, and even Miranda. They laugh when they are happy and they shout when they are angry. The only person here who is anything like them is your darling Aunt Hetta, and Lady Adelaide continually tells her that such behavior is unbecoming. I suppose that is why you are so restrained.”

“No,” he said, “don’t blame Aunt Adelaide. If I seem restrained to you, it is only that I had to grow up quickly and put away childish things, and I suppose I equated displays of temper with childishness. That isn’t surprising, you know. Schoolboys are not encouraged to display emotions of any sort. One keeps a stiff upper lip, and all that.”

“Of course one does. Alston is the same. You have only to look at how he behaves publicly. But he is altogether different in the privacy of his home. I expected you to be like that.”

“I am four years younger than my sister, Lydia,” he said, “and only two years older than Ned. I became rather suddenly not only a marquess but the head of my family, the person who was supposed to take care of everyone else. My mother had been gone for some time before that, and after her death, there was no one to whom I felt I could properly display emotion. My father certainly never encouraged me to do so. His attitude toward me was much like Aunt Adelaide’s is toward Aunt Hetta. He loved me but put duty first. I was raised to be Marquess of Chalford, and since I controlled so many others, I felt it necessary to remain in control of myself, first of all.” He paused, regarding her solemnly. “Until you came into my life, I managed very well.”

“Well,” she said, returning his look with a steady one of her own, “I did
try
for a long time to make you angry, but after my ‘success’ in Brighton, I certainly didn’t intend to do it again. I won’t try to excuse my behavior tonight, Joshua—”

“You couldn’t do so.” He dropped his hands and looked sternly into her eyes. “We have strayed from the point, have we not? I don’t know what to do with you, Adriana, but by heaven you do deserve something for this night’s work, and that’s a fact. Not only did you put yourself at risk, but you risked Miranda’s life as well. What you can have been thinking of in agreeing to such a caper-witted expedition, and under the aegis of such a man as Braverstoke, I cannot imagine. …”

He went on, maintaining that stern but even tone, albeit with obvious effort for once, and expressed himself with great clarity, describing the folly of her actions that evening, then going on, leaving no previously unspecified fault of hers unmentioned, no misbehavior uncondemned. He made each point plainly, firmly, and without leaving the slightest room for doubt as to his opinion of her behavior in every case.

Adriana made no attempt to defend herself. Indeed, after that first moment, when his gaze held hers, she lowered her eyes to the middle button of his leather waistcoat and did not look up again until he had finished. By then, because she had heard every word and because some were painful to hear, her eyes were swimming, but she blinked back the tears, looked him straight in the eye, and said, “Joshua, do you love me?”

“What?”

“Do you really love me?” When he glared at her as much in exasperation as from any other emotion, she said, “I asked because although I have liked you amazingly well ever since I met you, I did not know I loved you until I thought that dreadful Mr. Braverstoke was going to blow the
Sea Dragon
out of the water tonight with you aboard. Then, even though I knew Miranda was on the
Golden Fleece
and was concerned about her because the
Sea Dragon
and the revenue cutter were returning fire, I was absolutely terrified about what might happen to you. I knew then. I thought maybe it was the same with you, that you didn’t know until you thought the smugglers had murdered me, and then, when you found out they hadn’t, you remembered what a bad wife I have been and you weren’t so certain anymore.”

“I ought to put you straight across my knee.”

“Very likely,” she agreed, watching him warily through her tears and trying to ignore the sudden singing in her heart. She hoped she could depend upon that even temper of his long enough to make him say what she wanted to hear. “Could you answer my question first, please?”

“I don’t suppose you would believe me if I told you I’ve been mad about you since I first laid eyes upon you at Almack’s.”

“Well, no,” she said, beginning to twinkle, “because the first time you laid eyes upon me was at Lady Sefton’s rout just after the opening sessions.”

“Ah, but it was at Almack’s—” He broke off, glaring at her again. “Is this just a ploy, Adriana, to divert my thoughts? I warn you we have not finished with the business at hand.”

“No, sir,” she said meekly, looking down at her fingertips. “I doubt such a ploy would be successful, because of course you’re simply stiff with that dutiful nature of yours and will very likely feel obliged to punish me no matter how hard I might try to avoid it.” She looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “For my own good, you know.”

“And possibly,” he added on a sardonic note, “because I warned you about what would happen if you fired my temper again. You, my girl, seem to look upon a scolding as no more than a consequence to be endured
after
you have done as you damn please and
before
you do so again. I believe stronger punishment is merited tonight. Shall we attend to the matter here, or would you prefer that we adjourn to your bedchamber first?”

Dismayed, eyes widening to their full extent, she raised her hands in an involuntary gesture of defense. “You wouldn’t!”

He grimaced. “I thought you were up to your usual tricks, hoping to disarm me with this sudden meekness of yours.” He regarded her more sternly than ever. “Do you realize now that such tactics will no longer avail you with me?”

She nodded, still watching him uncertainly.

“Very well, then. Come here.”

He held out his arms, and she walked straight into them, expelling a long sigh of relief when they closed around her.

“I will try very hard to be the sort of wife you want me to be, Joshua,” she said a moment later.

“Don’t make me any ridiculous promises,” he said, amused. “We will both try harder, but you
are
the sort of wife I want, sweetheart. I wouldn’t change a hair on your beautiful head.”

“Not one?”

“Well, there is one small thing you might try to change, if you wish to please me.”

“What?”

“I find that, try as I might, I cannot reconcile myself to your need to be constantly surrounded by doting admirers.”

“But I like having my friends about me,” she replied.

“Oh, I’ve no objection to your friends, sweetheart, just the doting dolts who mutter in your shell-like ear about your flowerlike complexion and fawn over your every word—in short, ’tis the Mr. Dawlishes I find I cannot tolerate. Do you think you could possibly hold them at arm’s length in future?”

“Oh, well”—Adriana pretended to think the matter over carefully—“I suppose I could make do with your compliments, sir, if you could exert yourself occasionally to think of one or two.”

“It shall be done.”

“But, Joshua,” she reminded him gently, “you have not yet even been able to bring yourself to say that you love me.”

The door opened behind them, startling them both. “Pardon me for disturbing you, my dears, but I saw the light under the door, and though I have tried to be patient, I was afraid I’d fall asleep on my feet if I did not take courage and interrupt you.” Lady Hetta stood upon the threshold, blinking at them, her hand clutching the folds of her gray dressing gown across her meager breasts. “I simply could not go off to bed without knowing what will happen next.”

Recovering quickly, Joshua said, “You must be freezing, Aunt Hetta. Come stand by the fire.” He strode to snatch the poker from its place on the hearth and stirred the coals to flames again, saying, “I collect you wish to know what happened on the beach and what will happen to Lord Braverstoke’s son. The gang members were nearly all captured, I’m pleased to say, and Randall Braverstoke himself is aboard the cutter, on his way to London. They’ll not risk sending him overland for fear of a rescue attempt. He was the master smuggler, I’m afraid—in it for the money, of course, for he’ll get naught from his father.”

“Well, but Mr. Petticrow—”

“Oh, he is in good trim—a hero, in fact. It was he who alerted the authorities, you know, once he began to suspect Braverstoke and once the rumors reached him that a particularly large run was going to be made. When the dragoons were unable to get here soon enough, he talked the local men into helping him, and they carried the day, so no one will even ask questions when it is discovered that the number of kegs confiscated by the authorities is rather low for the size of the run.”

“He told me you convinced the local men to help,” Adriana said gently, smiling at him.

“Oh, I suppose I had a hand in it.”

“You did it all, for Jeremiah told me it was their loyalty to you that turned the trick, but that is not what I meant,” Lady Hetta said, flushing to her eyebrows.

“Please, Joshua, Adelaide said you’d never agree to such a thing in a million years, that I should be throwing myself away, and indeed, she said it all when she was thinking Lord Braverstoke would make me an offer. But I am five-and-forty years old, and I have never cared in the least for anyone … Oh, well, perhaps for that young man Papa was so set against, but he was a younger son with not a penny to his name, and Mr. Petticrow at least was not born without a shirt. His father left him fairly well to pass, and he does make something at his job, of course, though he says he will give up being a riding officer if you don’t like it. But if
I
do not care, I cannot think why Adelaide, who has been married and widowed, and … and everything, should have a word to say about it.”