In the Garden of Deceit (Book 4) (21 page)

Thus
he had gotten himself into trouble. He had made assumptions and
forced an issue that he now must assume had hindered rather than
helped his cause. But somehow he had been unable to stop himself.

James
was a man of action, forceful, and allowing a situation to languish
made him feel impotent and out of control. His relationship with
Amanda had come to mean everything to him. To let the distrust and
hurt continue without doing something—anything—seemed
foolish, the perfect recipe for a failed marriage.

At
least his meeting with Smythe had taken care of one important issue.
James was going to give Derrick an allowance and set him up in a
modest establishment in London. And he wasn’t using Amanda’s
money to do it, either. He was taking his own meager inheritance to
remove his cousin from the vicinity.

James
admitted that he was salving his own conscience while making life
more convenient despite his honest belief that Derrick was
undeserving. But at the same time he hoped to spare his Aunt
Henrietta the pain of worrying about what was to become of her only
son. He would give them both the news this evening, and perhaps he
could have Derrick and his cronies back in the city before Amanda
ever discovered their visit.

Derrick’s
presence on the estate had been an added worry to James. He should
have told Amanda that his cousin was in residence, but given
Derrick’s malicious destruction of their wedding party, he had
reason to believe she would not understand. He could hardly blame
her.

James
felt his gut tense with anticipation as Lonsdale came into view. He
kicked his horse into a run and entered the stableyard minutes later.

The
house, as always, breathed with life. As he entered the foyer he
could hear voices emanating from the drawing room. The sounds were
cheerful and inviting, and he decided to make an appearance before
going upstairs to change for dinner.

All
the family was assembled, the uncles, Aunt Henry…his wife.
Amanda’s eyes met his immediately when he entered the room,
then she looked quickly away as two bright spots of color rose in her
cheeks. If it was only embarrassment due to memories of last night
then he was amused. But if her averted gaze signaled that she was
still displeased with him, the coming evening was bound to be an
uncomfortable one.

She
looked beautiful tonight in sapphire blue, her hair pulled back in an
elegant chignon. Few women could wear that severe style. On Amanda it
was stunning.

James
went to her side, apologizing for the smell of horse and sweat he
brought with him.

“I
should have changed first, but it sounded as though you were having a
party without me. I did not want to miss all the fun.”

Huey
giggled. “James misses the fun a lot. Doesn’t he,
Amanda?”

Amanda’s
gaze centered on her husband again, the blush still staining her
cheeks. She seemed unable to answer the simple question as though any
response were more encouragement than she was willing to grant him.

“Doesn’t
he, Amanda?” James prodded softly.

He
looked deeply into her eyes, long moments passing, until the room and
its inhabitants seemed to fade away, leaving the two of them alone.
James wanted to take her elbow, force her to acknowledge him with
words. But she was withdrawn, a remoteness in her lovely eyes that
stung more than he wanted to admit. He felt gritty and smelly and,
for the second time that day, altogether unworthy.

A
footman approached with a tray and a brandy, breaking the spell, and
James reached for the drink. He took the brandy in a single gulp, the
liquid burning the back of his throat and sending an almost immediate
buzz to his head. For one brief and humbling moment he understood how
his mother could retreat into alcohol to ease her pain.

“Think
I’ll go change now,” he mumbled.

“Goodness,
James,” Aunt Henry said, “you’d think we had never
smelled the odor of horse before. You’re among family. You will
miss the first course if you leave now. Let’s put convention
aside for tonight.”

She
moved across the room and placed a persuasive hand on his arm,
drawing him into the dining room. James glanced over his shoulder,
hoping to catch Amanda’s gaze, but his wife’s attention
was on the twins and Huey, her effort to ignore him obvious. At that
moment, he could not imagine feeling more discouraged.

***

“Let
me see if I understand correctly,” Derrick said to James
several hours later in the small garden at the back of the dower
house. His mother Henrietta watched on anxiously. “You propose
to send me off to London to live on a mere pittance and in an abode
that is not much more than a hovel—
and
you expect me to
be grateful?”

“Please,
Derrick,” Aunt Henry broke into the escalating argument, “your
cousin has arranged to take care of you. You should be happy. You’ve
always wanted to live in London.”

“I’ve
wanted to live in London as a gentleman not as a pauper. I shall be a
laughingstock.”

“You
are a pauper, Derrick, without my intervention,” James drawled.
“You will have a roof over your head and food on the table and
a suitable clothing allowance. Except for my horse, you may have a
single pick of my stable. You will live well enough.”

“While
you live in grand style here at Lonsdale on your wife’s money?”

A
tense and very nasty silence ensued, the only sound Henry’s
gasp of shock.

“You
seem to forget, Derrick, I owe you nothing,” James said at
last. “Fortunately for you I have chosen not to follow that
course.”

“Owe
me nothing?” Derrick’s face had turned a bright red,
spittle forming on his lips. His strange eyes glowed with malice. “I
am your blood. That makes you obligated whether you like it or not.”

“Derrick,”
Henrietta tried again, her dismay now palpable. She grabbed at her
son’s sleeve, but he shrugged her off as he moved toward James,
his stance becoming more aggressive.

James
stared at him as though his cousin had gone daft. “Do you
really wish to rile me, Derrick?” he asked quietly. He balled
the hands at his sides into fists, the only thing holding him back
the respect and love he felt for his aunt.

And
Derrick clearly knew it. His displeasure grew into an acid smirk as
his gaze shifted to his mother then back to James.

“You
may think you have rid yourself of me with these paltry little
‘gifts.’ But it won’t be that easy, Cousin. You’ll
see.”

“Be
that as it may, I want you gone as soon as the arrangements are made,
Cousin.
And be certain to take your lowly friends with you.”

Derrick
turned to walk away but James’s next words stopped him. He
continued to give them his back, however, shoulders stiff and
belligerent.

“Be
careful how you choose to spite me, Derrick. What I contribute I can
easily take away. You might find my paltry gifts have more value than
you imagined.”

The
stillness rose around them, rife with festering emotions still not
completely excised. Derrick then sauntered into the shadows, the side
entrance door of the dower house slamming moments later. James could
not help forming the impression of a snake slithering home to its
den, there to plot more mischief for the unsuspecting.

Next
to him his aunt gave a moan of despair.

James
put his arm across her shoulders. “It’s not your fault,
Aunt Henry.”

“Doesn’t
matter. Assigning blame will do no good. I know that. But we still
must have contact with him.” She looked up at her nephew, eyes
sparkling with tears. “Am I a very bad person for wishing that
were not so?”

He
hugged her to his side. “Even a mother at some point will find
her maternal instincts tested, my dear. I don’t doubt you love
your son. But you can be forgiven for not being particularly fond of
him right now.”

She
sniffed into his coat. “Thank you, James. Your understanding—”
She stopped, plainly unable to continue.

“Get
some rest,” he said gently, releasing her. “Tomorrow is
soon enough to decide what we must do.”

In
the main house a short while later, James took the stairs to his
chamber, his hand sliding along the banister as he slowly mounted the
steps. Troubled thoughts on Aunt Henry and Derrick, he had no
solution for the problem his cousin posed beyond exiling the wayward
gentleman to London. And aside from threatening Derrick’s
livelihood, there was little he could do to control the ingrate’s
behavior. Unfortunately, in deference to his aunt, he was obliged to
wait for actions that went beyond the pale before he could cut
Derrick off completely. His mouth twisted ironically. There were
those who would argue his cousin had already passed that point.

As
he attained the landing, James thoughts shifted abruptly as his gaze
turned toward the door at the end of the hall. He paused in his
steps, uncertain, which annoyed him because indecisiveness was not a
usual fault of his. But last night had preyed on his mind all day,
the extraordinary, sexually fulfilling parts—and the parts that
undermined his confidence, left him feeling guilty and unworthy all
over again. He had believed one night of making love would, if not
solve his predicament with his wife, at least help them put their
unfortunate beginning behind them and move on with their lives.
Wishful thinking, he supposed. He sighed. Men and women clearly did
not perceive the worth of a good tumble in the same light.

James
walked toward the room he shared with Amanda, ashamed of his sudden
reluctance. As he reached the door he tapped lightly then turned the
door handle. Of course. She hadn’t waited for him. Though he
had bathed earlier, hopeful, he wasn’t surprised to find her
abed.

His
wife lay on her side, facing the far wall, and for the first time he
had no sense of whether she was awake or not. Perhaps it was because
tonight he was too tired to try and figure it out. If Amanda were
asleep, he didn’t want to disturb her. If she were pretending
to sleep then
she
was the one who didn’t want to be
disturbed. Either way, he was resigned once more to feeling the
estrangement that had plagued the early days of their marriage.

He
loosened his cravat and removed it then unbuttoned his shirt. He
wondered if he should sleep in his trousers again to spare Amanda’s
sensibilities, at once balking at the very idea.
To hell with
that!
He wanted to be comfortable, wanted to believe he belonged
in his own chamber instead of feeling as if he were a visitor or,
worse still, an intruder. He stripped off the rest of his clothing.

Now
naked except for his drawers—he kept them on because ultimately
he didn’t want to offend his wife—James climbed beneath
the coverlet next to Amanda’s back. He closed his eyes and, for
the first time that day, allowed himself to relax. Tight muscles
along his back eased, and his shoulders loosened gradually. He
groaned softly as the mattress brought his body some comfort,
relieving him of the need to hold himself upright and be the man of
responsibility and power he had now become. His thoughts drifted and
a gentle scene coalesced around him, tropical breeze on a pristine
beach, brilliant, cloudless sky and sea the color of green turquoise.
Worries were left on the shore as he headed for the water….

***

Amanda
knew when James entered the room. She also sensed his indecision as
all went quiet for a moment. She assumed he was assessing the
situation. Then she heard the rustle of clothing as he disrobed. The
bed dipped next to her, the ropes creaking as he climbed beneath the
covers. She also heard the muffled grunt that escaped him when he
relaxed against the mattress. He lay very still and gradually his
breathing grew even. Amanda could feel his weariness as if it were
her own. She also felt something else.

Disappointment.

The
day long Amanda had thought about last night, and she was more
confused than she thought possible. She’d been upset, no doubt,
but if she had said making love to her husband had been a terrible
experience, it would have been a colossal untruth. It had been
shocking and unexpected and…thrilling. James had made her feel
sensations she had never felt before, sensations she hated to admit
that she yearned to feel again. Even now a compelling warmth was
spreading through her belly and dipping lower, a tingling heat that
made her squirm when she thought of him doing to her what he had done
before.

Amanda
had wanted James to approach her tonight, to take control again. That
way she need not take responsibility. Need not have to admit she
desired him and that, in fact, she found intimacy a worthwhile
endeavor.
And
that “participating” was not an
issue between them any longer. She could pretend, of course, but
inherently she was not a liar. It simply seemed no longer worth the
price. All their posturing back and forth was reducing their
relationship to an immature competition, more about outdoing the
other than trying to come to a solution. Playing chess with Huey was
infinitely more valuable than the game they had been playing with
each other. In fairness to her husband, he
had
tried to stem
the foolishness. She simply had not been ready to give over.

Perhaps
the most important decision she had arrived at today was the belief
that it was time to forgive and move on. Naturally, that was
difficult to accomplish because it required her to accept that,
though her husband’s subterfuge was wrong, over time and with
good intentions on both their sides, they could put it behind them.
But first she must prove to James that she sincerely was trying to do
that very thing. That meant no recriminations or dredging up old
hurts. It also meant becoming a participant in every aspect of their
lives, from the drawing room to the bedchamber.