In the Garden of Deceit (Book 4) (27 page)

At
last she twisted around to look at him, but she continued to rest her
head on her hands. She appeared not fully awake, her eyes still
droopy with sleep. But she smiled sweetly at him, and the sense of
relief that flowed through his body made him feel lightheaded. Until
that moment he hadn’t realized how truly anxious he had been
that their relationship would regress back to politeness and little
else. That one little smile made him want to dance a jig—the
somber circumstances of a sickroom notwithstanding—even though
he was, on his best day, a dreadfully poor dancer.

“We
need to talk—” he began.

Amanda
abruptly sat up straight in her chair, smoothing her hands over
mussed hair. “Not now, James,” she murmured. “For
the moment we need to concentrate on my father.” Her eyes
locked with his. “We have the rest of our lives to make our
relationship right.”

He
sensed no recrimination or anger. Instead, her gaze was sad and
distracted, and he decided to honor her wishes despite feeling
compelled to undo right
now
whatever damage Derrick had done.

He
nodded his assent. “How is the patient today?”

“Perhaps
you’d like to ask the patient,” came a raspy whisper.

Two
pairs of startled eyes looked to the old man positioned on a stack of
pillows in the oversized bed.

“Papa,
I’m so sorry,” Amanda said, “Did we wake you?”

Archie
turned toward the couple at his elbow, but his gaze was cloudy and
unfocused. “Not really sleeping.” He reached out to his
daughter but seemed uncertain where she was exactly. “I thought
I heard James.”

That’s
odd.

“Yes,
sir, I’m here.” James watched as Amanda took her father’s
hand, the old man fumbling to grasp hers in return without actually
looking at her. A sudden hunch struck him. He held up his own hand
and waved it vigorously.

Amanda
turned to him. “What are you doing?”

He
ignored her. “Sir, can you see me?”

There
was a long silence.

“What
does that mean?” Amanda’s voice was shrill.

“You’ve
found me out.” Archie wheezed softly.

“When?”
James asked.

“Last
night when I awoke. It was very late, and I thought…the lamp
had been extinguished.”

“You’ve
told no one?”

“Nurse
Bitters guessed. She was going to tell…the physician…”

“Please,
tell
me.
” Amanda sounded panicked now. “Whatever
are you talking about?”

“I—”
Archie coughed then coughed again. He was assailed by a fit that
lasted for what seemed an overly protracted amount of time.

James
and Amanda stood up as one to come to his aid, but there was little
they could do except wait for the episode to pass. As the coughing
subsided, Archie tried to speak, but James interrupted him.

“Let
me tell her, sir. You rest.” His gaze shifted to Amanda. “Your
father is—“

“I’m
blind, Manda,” Archie croaked.

“Blind?
Papa, no, we must do something!” She turned to James, her face
white with shock. She fluttered her hands in distress. “We must
do something.”

James
took hold of her forearms to still the frantic movement. “Excuse
us, sir,” he said as he gently pulled her away from the bed and
across the room. “Calm yourself, love,” he said in an
undertone.

“How
can he be blind? It’s his lungs that are ill.”

“It
happens sometimes, Amanda, when the end is near—”

Amanda
broke into a keening moan, and she began to weep, fingers stuffed
against her lips to contain the sound. For a moment James was so
stunned by her tears, he was immobilized. He had only seen her cry
once before—when they had first made love—and it
definitely had not been like this. This was grief, deep down,
soul-stirring grief. And he was touched in a way he had not expected.
Emotion filled his chest, and his own eyes watered with unshed tears.

“Manda,”
he whispered, his voice shaking, “please, spare Archie your
sorrow. No one should leave this world feeling guilty for having to
go. Your sadness will weigh heavily on him in his last hours. Not how
you want to say goodbye, I’m certain.”

She
nodded, swallowing repeatedly to gain control. “I’ve
known for several days that he was dying, but this…this just
makes it s-so real.” She gulped on another sob.

James
pulled her into his arms, and she laid her cheek against his chest.
He could feel each shuddery breath she took, the anguish that flowed
from her to him. Her soft body next to his was profoundly comforting,
even as he meant to comfort her. He allowed his imagination to drift
briefly to a moment that was free of sadness, when he could hold her
in his arms for an entirely different reason. Perhaps this was not
the time for such thoughts, but he felt powerless to prevent them. He
had missed her, and his fear that they might be estranged from one
another again had troubled him greatly.

His
mouth next to her ear, he said, “Find Nurse Bitters and ask her
to return to the room. I think it’s time for your father’s
medication. This will give you a few minutes to compose yourself.
Let’s be cheery for his sake.”

Amanda
pulled back to look at him. Her beautiful dark eyes were swimming in
tears, moisture clinging to her lashes. “I’ll be back
when I can do as you ask. I agree. If we are morbid, he will feel
morbid.” At the door she stopped. “I’m glad you’re
here, James. Thank you.”

As
the door closed behind her, James swigged a lungful of air through
his mouth. He felt humble and unworthy. What could he do but provide
a little support? But if that’s all he had to offer, he’d
be the best damned supportive husband this world had to offer.

He
walked back to the bed and regained his seat. “Sir?”

Archie
turned toward his voice, and because James now knew his
father-in-law’s condition, the lack of sight was obvious. The
old man’s features were pinched, a fine sheen of sweat covering
his brow, thus James assumed he was in significant discomfort.

“She’s
upset?” Archie said. His voice sounded hoarse from the coughing
fit.

“Yes,
sir.”

“You
take care of her for me.”

“You
know I will, sir. And gladly.”

“Don’t
let the anger linger. Anger destroys.”

“I
give you my word.”

Archie’s
only response was a groan, revealing that he was indeed in pain.

“Nurse
Bitters will be here momentarily to give you more laudanum, sir.
Please, hold on.” James stood as the chamber door opened.

***

CHAPTER 18

Archie
Campbell, London businessman extraordinaire, expired at 4:52 A.M the
following morning. He was attended by his daughter and son-in-law and
several servants, all of whom had great affection for their master.

Over
the intervening hours until his death, Amanda had ruthlessly dashed
aside a sadness that threatened to overtake her. James was correct.
Her father needed love and laughter, not a grim farewell that was
more about their grief than his dying. She could weep later.

Her
father had been drugged so, though he was awake until near the end,
he had seemed like a mellow drunk who wasn’t quite cognizant of
his surroundings. He smiled as he listened to everyone—including
the servants—reminisce, telling stories of happy days gone by.
Before he lapsed into unconsciousness, he beckoned his daughter to
come closer that he might whisper in her ear.

“The
townhouse goes to you and James, love. Please take care of those…who
have been loyal to our family all these years.”

Amanda
glanced at the servants who stood huddled in a sad little group on
the other side of the chamber. Tears coursed down her face, but she
kept her voice even and strong.

“Of
course, Papa.”

“Make
a happy life with his lordship. He’s a good man.”

Amanda’s
attention was drawn to her husband where he’d gone to stand by
the fireplace, arms crossed over his chest. Their gazes met and held.
He nodded almost imperceptibly in encouragement.

“I
will,” she said.

He
never spoke again as, shortly thereafter, he slipped away from this
world and into the next through the gentle journey of sleep.

***

Amanda
sat in the bedchamber in which she had grown up, in a chair by the
window. Fortunately the drapes on the above floors did not have to be
closed after a death, thus she was watching the sun rise on a new
day. As in her father’s sickroom, she could not bear the
thought of a dark and dreary chamber.

Less
than two hours before she had said goodbye to her father forever, and
now that it was all right for her to break down, she found herself
unable to do so. The tears weren’t far away, however. They were
lodged in a great lump in her throat, waiting for the right
moment—waiting for the numbness and sense of unreality to
recede.

A
week ago she had been unhappy with her father, carrying a grudge. Now
she would never see him again. Thankfully, they’d had these few
days to reconcile. She hated to imagine how she would feel right now
if she hadn’t had that time with him.

A
knock sounded at the door. “Come,” she called listlessly.

Amanda
twisted around to see James enter. He stopped, watching her from
across the room. She acknowledged him with a quick bob of her head
then turned back to the morning sun coming through the window.

“I
thought you’d be trying to sleep,” he said. “It was
a long night.”

“Can’t
sleep, can’t cry—can’t think, really. This all
feels like a very bad dream.”

“Do
you want to talk?”

She
shrugged. “What have you been doing? You should be abed as
well.”

“Arrangements,
love. Thought I’d start the process as I can’t sleep,
either.”

Amanda
felt a stab of despair. “Arrangements…” she
murmured. “Thank you. I don’t think I could face that
right now.”

James
crossed the room to her side and placed one hand on her shoulder as
he joined her at the window. “I don’t mind. Being here to
help you with your father’s passing somehow helps me accept
that I wasn’t here when my own father died.”

“That
wasn’t your fault, James.”

“Tell
that to my conscience. Worst part is I didn’t get to say
goodbye as you did with Archie.”

“Were
you and the earl at odds before you left the country?”

“He
didn’t want me to go.” His voice was sad.

“And
yet, you felt it was the right thing for you to do?”

“At
the time, yes.”

“All
you have at any given time is what you think is best, James. It’s
easy enough to change your mind about what you should or shouldn’t
have done after the fact. Hindsight and all that.”

“So
I tell myself.”

There
was an odd quality to his voice that drew Amanda’s attention.
She glanced up at him.

James
looked hesitant all of a sudden, his gaze searching her face.

“We’re
not talking about your father anymore, are we?” she asked.

“I
let you down, Amanda. Yet again.”

She
didn’t know how to answer him. Truth was he
had
let her
down. “Why didn’t you tell me about Derrick?”

“Would
you have understood?”

“How
should I know? You never gave me the opportunity to try. As to that,
I have no idea why he was there in the first place.”

He
looked sheepish. “I—damn it, Amanda, I panicked. I admit
it. You were so angry with me after the wedding, and we were having
such a time of it trying to get passed our dreadful beginning, I
simply didn’t want to complicate things. In retrospect, a
mistake, I admit.”

“I
would have found out eventually, James.”

“I
hoped he would be gone long before that happened. He wasn’t
supposed to stay, you know. If he implied something else, he lied.”

Amanda
sighed. “Implication is more straightforward than Derrick is
capable of. His only goal, in my opinion, was to create trouble
between you and me, but I’d be hard pressed to prove it one way
or the other. I don’t think I’ve ever met a more
spiteful, disingenuous individual.”

James
shifted on his feet and squatted down next to her. “Aunt Henry
said he told you I was meeting a woman on my trip to the city rather
than attending to business.”

He
lifted his face to meet her scrutiny, and she searched his features,
uncertain what he wanted her to say. “That’s what he
hoped I’d believe.”

He
took one of the hands that lay in her lap and squeezed it gently.
“And?”

“And…he’s
a monumental liar.”

Instant
joy lit his expression but she stopped him with a shake of her head.

“I
have no proof of why you came to the city, James, except your word.
However, I’m convinced Derrick hadn’t a clue, either.”

“Business,
Amanda, I swear. There was no woman.”

She
disengaged the hand he held and ran it over the hair on his crown,
combing her fingers through the dark waves. “I believe you.”

The
look they shared was protracted, intense, and the rhythm of Amanda’s
heart trilled in rapid response to the almost tangible gathering of
emotion around them. She leaned down and touched her mouth to his
then pulled back. The tears that had been so elusive up until now all
at once threatened to overwhelm her. She breathed deeply, pressing
her lips together, to stem the flow.

“Why
do you believe me?” he asked, voice raw with feeling. He
swallowed hard as though holding back also.

“These
last few days have not only been difficult, James. They’ve been
enlightening. Strange, but the loss of someone dear has a way of
making one appreciate what one has to lose. I did a lot of thinking
while sitting next to my father’s bed. I was unhappy because my
life had been managed without my consent. But I realized, through all
those quiet hours with nothing to do but reflect on our situation,
that I wouldn’t change a thing. I love you.”