Regency Romance: An Intriguing Invitation (Historical Billionaire Military Romance) (19th Century Victorian Romance) (36 page)

Amy thought a moment, then nodded.

“Well Mr.—Thomas—I guess that I’m willing to give it a try,” she conceded, adding with a shy smile, “And you may call me Amy.”

*****

Amy awoke the next morning to find herself in paradise.

Even before she opened her eyes she experienced the sensation of divine luxury, a feeling supplied by the presence of a lace trimmed floral print comforter as it cradled and coddled her body; a form further comforted by the shine of luminous sunbeams as they flew inward through a nearby window, and by the scent of roses that seemed to grow just outside the same window, intermingled with the more distant but uncomfortable scent of fresh cooked buttermilk pancakes.

Finally opening her eyes, a still sleepy Amy basked in the vision of a bedroom that seemed custom made for a princess; a luxurious refuge adorned by café style floral print curtains, plush ivory carpeting and ivory, bronze bordered bureaus.

“How on earth did I end up here?” she mused, thoughts thick and groggy. “
Oh,
I don’t care—as long as I am not required to move anytime within the next year or so.”

A loud knock on her bedroom door stirred her awake moments later; reminding her with a jolt as to her current location—and also of the man who owned this home.

Gathering her crisp cotton sheets tight around her chin in
a protective
move, Amy called out in
a tentative
voice, “Who’s there?”

“It’s Thomas. I’ve come with your breakfast,” her host answered, his tone tentative and reverent.

Amy nodded—then pondered just how ineffectual such a move was with a closed door between them.

“Come in,” she said finally, sitting upward in bed as her door swung open to reveal a most unusual sight.

Although dressed in the denim blue jeans, crisp white shirt and black rawhide boots and hat combination typical of a rancher, her host still looked every inch the role of a dashing butler; carrying as he did a tray topped with a hearty stack of piping hot buttermilk pancakes, and a tall brown mug that brimmed with steaming hot cocoa.

“Breakfast
is served
,” Thomas announced with a grin, seating himself on the edge of her bed and setting the tray before her. “Enjoy.”

Amy did just that seconds later, digging deep into her succulent morning feast as she pinned her host with inquisitive eyes.

“Delicious!” she praised him, adding as she inclined her head sharp in his direction, “I
simply
must
ask,
though, who occupied this room before I did?”

Thomas shrugged.

“No one to speak of, Ma’am,” he told her. “Truth be told it was never slept in before last night.”

Amy nodded.

“So you as a Texas rancher tend to prefer lace comforters and floral print café curtains?” she queried, accompanying her words with a long hard look that brought a loud guffaw from deep in Thomas’ throat.

“Not at all, Ma’am,” he admitted, adding with a soft smile, “You see, my ma and pa were the original settlers who claimed this land, about 15 years ago. Their home still stands, just up the dirt road.” He paused here, adding in a sentimental tone, “My pa always insisted that his home be decorated in the style of a ranch house—with a lot of browns and blacks, with rawhides hung up all over the home and statues of bulls and horses on every available surface. So when I built my
own
ranch house, I set aside one room just for my ma—a place where she could come, write the poetry that she loved to pen, and just stare out the window at the Texas moon.”

Amy smiled.

“Well that was kind of you, Thomas,” she praised him, adding as she took another hearty bite of her steaming hot pancakes, “Are your folks still living?”

Thomas shook his head.

“My pa has been gone for six years, my ma for three. I miss them so much,” he revealed, adding as a telltale veil of tears brimmed forth from his aquiline eyes, “I’m sorry, Ma’am. I know a cowboy
ain’t
supposed to cry.”

Amy said nothing, just wrapped her arms around his muscled shoulders and pulled him closer to her; telltale
tears
escaping her own eyes as the two tilted their foreheads together and their hands clenched between them.

“Do not even dream of apologizing to me,” Amy insisted, adding as she ran a comforting hand through the silken lengths of his thick gold hair, “I reckon that, at this point, we both need a good
ol
’ cry.”

The couple said nothing for several moments, just leaned into one another as their hands remained clenched and their tears fell free between them.

A wave of warmth coursed free through Amy’s being as she tilted her chin upward; smiling soft and tender as her doting host wiped the tears from the surface of her
fair-skinned
cheeks.

This smile broadened moments later, as a
warm-eyed
Thomas tilted her delicate chin in his hand and covered her mouth with his.

Touching her lips with a whisper soft kiss, Thomas massaged her mouth with his in
a tender
advance that nonetheless resounded with
a certain
, unmistakable passion.

Kissing him in
kind
return, Amy plied his lips with tender affection as the two drew closer, her senses
lulled
and her worries forgotten as they lost themselves in a peaceful—if passionate—reverie.

The feeling fled them all too soon.

“God
Almighty
,” the rancher swore softly, breaking their kiss as he jumped from Amy’s bed and made fast tracks toward the door. “What am I doing, taking
dreadful
advantage of an expectant woman like this?”

Amy shook her head.

“No Thomas,” she countered, adding as she made a broad gesture between them, “I wanted you to kiss me.”

Yet he
was gone.

“Criminy,” Amy exhaled, adding as she lay back
in
her bed with a frustrated sigh, “Why can’t anything in my life go smooth? Just one thing? Lordy, I guess it’s simply too much to ask.”

*****

He hated himself.

For the first time in a life guided by the concepts of civility and nobility, and
always overseen
by the Biblical verses his mother had taught him as a child, Thomas Wyatt felt shame and self-loathing;
alien
emotions that plagued his heart and
addled
his troubled soul.

Standing in the midst of a fragrant rose patch that needed his attention, Thomas nonetheless picked at the soil beneath him with a weary,
lethargic
hoe
; his face downturned below the brim of his hat as his mouth turned downward in a woebegone frown.

“What foul demon possessed me just now?
Why did I have to go and take advantage of a proper, innocent lady?” he paused here, adding with a slight shrug, “OK well perhaps she’s not so innocent, considering the fact that she’s in the family way—but she is without a doubt a proper widow still in love with her husband, God rest his soul.
I betrayed the both of them when I kissed Miss Amy; the woman who I promised to treat with the
upmost
propriety and respect. And I also
betrayed
her unborn child, kissing its mother weeks before its birth.”

Throwing aside the
hoe
with a frustrated growl, Thomas sighed as his shoulders sank with the weight of his culpable guilt.

“Devil take me!” he bellowed, balling his fists beside him as he added, “I deserve the punishment. Or if God does see fit to grant me another chance, then please send me some
sort of a
sign—some message that I am not as foul and sinful as I perceive myself to be on this day.”

“Shut yer pitiful mouth and get to work, oh Sultan of Self Pity. Now!”

His
head
shooting upward, Thomas pursed his lips in a show of keen curiosity as his desperate summons
was met
by the sound of a distinctly feminine voice.

“Well now Ma always did theorize that God was a woman,” he mumbled, casting a
wide-eyed
curious glance in the direction of the sky. “Guess she was right.”

“
Indeed,
she was, and don’t you forget
it,
Cowboy.”

Thomas jumped, this time recognizing the delicate Southern lilt of his guest at the ranch.

He smiled in spite of himself at the sight of a scowling Amy, now dressed in a basic denim work dress with her arms folded
firmly
before her.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” she admonished him, adding as she walked forward with
purposeful
steps and retrieved the fallen
hoe
, “We have work to do.”

Soon the pair stood side by side at the center of the rose patch, tending Thomas’ prized crop as he continued to steal cautious looks in Amy’s direction.

“Are you sure you feel like working the fields, Ma’am?” he asked her, inclining his head in her direction as he tended his
own
corner of the patch. “Wouldn’t you rather head back to the ranch house?”

Tossing aside her
hoe
with a frustrated sigh, Amy planted her hands on her hips and stared her
concerned
host straight in the eyes.

“We see here before us a garden filled with flowers,” she told him, making
a broad
flourish across the land before him as she added with eyebrows arched, “I am not one of them. I’m a
strong
and sturdy
farmwoman
, Thomas. I
actually
like to work. You don’t need to worry about overworking me, as I shall always let you know when and if I need a rest.” She paused here, adding with a slight smile in his direction, “You also don’t need to worry about kissing me either. I like to kiss as well—especially when the individual doing the kissing just happens to be you.”

Thomas exhaled, gracing her with a boyish grin as he considered these words.

“I’m so relieved to hear those words, Amy,” he revealed, adding as he retrieved his
hoe
and offered her another that lay at the corner of the garden, “And believe me, I’m well aware that you’re not a shrinking violet. You are a woman strong in your convictions,” he paused here, adding as he regarded her with inquiring eyes, “And according to what you said yesterday, you are
darned
and determined to love only one man for the remainder of your days.”

Amy bit her lip.

“Well Thomas, until the moment we met, I didn’t rightly think that I could love anyone else,” she revealed, adding as she shuffled her feet beneath her, “At one point, though, I may have said the same thing about Vance. I was always independent as a gal, and I had no
earthly
designs on life as a wife and mother.”

Thomas nodded.

“So what did catch your interest?” he asked her, listening intent as the two set to work at the center of their field.

Amy shrugged.

“I always earned pretty high marks back at the old school house, so I figured I might make
a good
school marm,” she revealed, adding in a lower tone, “But then Vance swept into my life, just like a Texas tornado. Between romance and marriage and babies, I do believe I
kind of
forgot who I was. My husband became my world—and until yesterday, I think I just kind of lost myself.” She paused here, adding as she raised a finger for emphasis, “Now don’t be
misunderstanding
. I did adore my husband….”

“…but he’s gone,” Thomas completed, saying the words he knew she couldn’t. “And you, a young, talented and beautiful woman, remain.”

Setting aside his hoe, Thomas turned in full to face her as he fixed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“You’re still alive, Amy, and you have your whole life ahead of you,” he reminded her, adding as he massaged his agile fingers into the muscles of her
slight
,
work-weary
shoulder. “And I’d honored if you chose to spend even a small part of that life with me.”

Covering his hand with hers, Amy graced him with
a beneficent
smile as she affirmed, “I would like to, Thomas.” She paused here, adding as she rested her hand on her bulging stomach, “First, though, I have to get this baby birthed. This little one has to be my
first priority
.”

Thomas grinned.

“And once you do, my darling, I would love to court you
properly
,” he proposed, leaning forward as he graced her cheek with
whisper soft
lips.