Whispers at Midnight (33 page)

About an hour later she heard him return.
Feeling refreshed, she arose and dressed for dinner. She thought
the green gown plain without the emerald earrings, but the little
gold studs, the only jewelry she had left, would have to do. Well,
no matter, Gardner would tell her she looked delightful just as she
was. With that thought in mind she went lightly down the stairs to
tell him she was ready to receive the guests.

“Have you got it?”

Amanda paused on the stairs. It was the same
deep voice she had heard from Gardner’s study before.

“All of it, as promised. And a few coins
more so that you will not regret the wait.”

She heard a clinking as if a bag of coins
had been dumped onto a tabletop.

“You are not a trusting fellow, my man.”

A gruff laugh sounded. “Not when there is a
sum so high as this at stake.”

The coins clinked one by one back into the
bag. Amanda turned to go to her room. She had listened longer than
she should have, but there was something more.

She shivered lightly. Suddenly she wanted to
be very sure Gardner did not find her on the stairs.

***

“Your dress is exquisite, my dear,” said
Agatha Whitney, wife of Gardner’s friend Joseph Whitney, a
merchant. “But what a shame about the earrings. Gardner has told us
of your misfortune. I do hope the culprit will be caught. To think
that here in Williamsburg such a thing could happen,” she
declared.

“Here as anywhere, my dear,” Joseph Whitney
addressed his wife. “A particularly clever crime, though.” He
looked at Amanda. “Have you any idea when the receipt was
stolen?”

Amanda pursed her lips thoughtfully. She did
have an idea. She had thought it through carefully and concluded
that the receipt might have been taken at the same time the jewelry
was removed from Wicklow. Unless it could be proven otherwise,
there was no one she could suspect but Ryne. But so far she had not
revealed that suspicion even to Gardner.

“I cannot be sure,” she answered. “But it
most certainly must have occurred at Wicklow. The receipt was in a
purse which was on my dressing table. It might have been removed at
any time during the past week.”

“Then the question is,” said Joseph Whitney,
“who might have known about it?”

“Enough,” Gardner said abruptly. “I have
promised Amanda a pleasant evening. Let us turn the conversation to
more palatable subjects.”

Amanda found it difficult to fall into the
cheerful mood of the gathering, but made a special effort to do so.
She chatted with Agatha Whitney, but when the time came to leave
for the theater she was glad to go, for during the performance she
would have time to search her mind for all the reasons it could not
have been Ryne. She needed desperately to find them.

“It will not be a performance such as you
are accustomed to,” Agatha Whitney whispered as they took their
seats. “Nothing to rival the London theater. We have to make do
with this old hall. The acoustics are not the best and the lighting
poor. Nevertheless it is the best Williamsburg has to offer, and
enjoyable.”

The theater brought an outpouring of
memories, both happy and sad. In the few moments before the
performance was to begin, Amanda busied herself looking around at
the crowd, the women in their colorful gowns.

Almost every seat was filled, and still
people were trickling in from the entrance. Hushed whispers filled
the air as the actors appeared on the stage. But it was not the
start of the production that drew Amanda’s attention. She felt a
tight knot form in her stomach as her eyes became riveted on a
couple who had just come in, a handsome pair, he with hair black as
jets and she in an elaborately coiffed powdered wig.

What more proof did she need? Ryne had lied
to her. He had not ridden to Richmond. He was here and being
noticeably attentive and charming to his companion. And the woman
in the lemon-striped dress was smiling in delight. And why not? He
was so suave that any woman would be charmed.

Amanda’s cheeks flushed in remembrance. She
herself had been.

The ivory-and-silk fan moved lightly in
front of her face. Until this moment she had not given in
completely to her doubts. Now she half-expected to see her emerald
earrings on the other woman’s ears. She stared at the couple so
hard she thought Ryne must surely feel the burn of her gaze, but he
did not look in her direction.

When he leaned close to his companion and
whispered something to her, Amanda blinked back a threat of tears.
She was glad the play had started and everyone’s attention was
given to the actors. She did not want it noticed that the color had
drained from her face.

At intermission Amanda walked with Gardner
and the Whitneys to the garden, where a small refreshment kiosk had
been erected.

“Can I bring you something to drink?”
Gardner asked.

“Yes,” Amanda answered. “Something cool. It
is as warm here as inside.”

She waited near a hedge on the outer fringe
of the crowd, where she could not be easily seen. If Ryne and his
companion should come out, she hoped to avoid them. She closed her
eyes for a moment against memories that were sharp and painful as
barbs. Had he really said those things? Asked her to marry him? Or
was it all a dreadful dream?

“Amanda, I did not expect to find you in
Williamsburg.”

She flinched at the sound of Ryne’s voice.
She was not safe from him anywhere. It was as if he could appear
wherever he wished. She turned to face him, hoping her voice would
not waver when she spoke.

“That is evident.”

Ryne regarded her in his assessing way. She
thought his smile held a peculiar dark humor, and it annoyed her
that he should derive pleasure from her distress.

“Have you enjoyed the play?” he asked.

She crooked her head to one side and gave a
brittle smile. “I have enjoyed both performances, Mr. Sullivan, and
I am pressed to tell which is the better.”

One black brow rose sharply. When he spoke
again his voice was low and husky and it did not fail to have the
effect he intended. A shiver of fear and excitement shook her when
he stepped shockingly close.

“You think I have deliberately
misrepresented my intentions to you, my sweet. I should think a
degree of trust would be in order between us.”

“How can you speak to me of trust?” There
was an edge to her voice. “You twist the truth as it suits you.”
She stepped back a pace, her face flushed and her eyes holding a
look of tension. Almost of its own accord the question she had not
meant to ask slipped out. “What do you know about the emerald
earrings?”

A curious look flickered in Ryne’s eyes,
giving a glimpse of deep, indecipherable thoughts, but then he
smiled quite normally.

“Only that they would be divine on you.”

Her eyes darkened like a stormy sea. “I
think you know a good deal more.”

His eyes changed from blue to black as he
stared at her intensely. She saw so many emotions in his face that
it frightened and bewildered her.

“Ryne,” she said in a weak, small voice, “I
only mean—”

His face twisted with anger. “I think I know
what you mean and who has given you this idea.”

“No one . . .” Amanda flinched. His hand was
on her arm in a bruising grip.

“Don’t think you are finished with me,
Amanda. I will not lose in this.”

Gardner returned as Ryne stalked away. He
saw her stricken face and frowned.

“Ryne, wasn’t it? What has he said to
you?”

“No, no. It’s nothing,” Amanda said quickly.
“Just the heat. The cider will help.” She took a glass from
Gardner’s hand and sipped the cool sweet liquid. “You see, I’m
better now,” she murmured, lifting her head and forcing a
smile.

But it was good that he could not see how
Ryne’s black-browed scowl had set in her mind. And like a dark
shadow, his threat hung ominously in her thoughts.

“I think we should not go back inside the
theater,” Gardner said, taking her arm gently.

“I would not like to offend the
Whitneys.”

“They’ll understand. I’ll tell them the heat
has affected you. We’ll leave the carriage for them. You’ll be all
right here just a moment, won’t you?” His voice was gentle and
reassuring.

“Of course. But I’m fine, I tell you. This
is completely unnecessary.”

He patted her hand. “Nevertheless, I insist.
And if you are truly feeling well, I know a place that is much more
exciting than the theater.”

Gardner took the empty glass from her and
left. Amanda strolled along the hedgerow. Most of the audience had
returned to their seats, and except for a few who hovered near the
door, she was alone in the garden. She stopped beneath a lantern to
wait for Gardner’s return, but even the golden light it spread
failed to lift the veil of gloom she felt hanging over her.

“Come along,” Gardner said. “It isn’t far to
walk, and I believe the night air will refresh you in no time.”

She took his arm and obeyed. They strolled
to a tavern some few blocks away and he led her to a back room,
which she was surprised to find filled with people at gaming or
billiard tables. She sensed this was no usual assembly of persons,
because all there were dressed in the finest of clothing.

“A gambling house?” she whispered to
Gardner.

“Some call it that. I think of it as a mere
diversion. Sport for the gentry. You will find in this room at one
time or another the wealthiest of planters and merchants, as well
as their ladies.” He laughed. “Even Mother was fond of the gaming
table. Used to come here on the sly when she thought Ryne and I
would not find out.”

“I am astonished. Aunt Elise a gambler.”
Amanda’s brows rose. Perhaps she could believe it, though. Aunt
Elise was such an impulsive person, and of course she would try to
keep her folly from her sons.

“She thrived on the excitement, I
expect.”

Amanda smiled. “And did she win?”

“More often, she lost. Then she would try to
find some secretive way to pay her debt without our knowing.”

“How could she do that?”

“She would sell some trinket or trade some
item from among her vast collections. Nothing of great value, mind
you. She did not wager large sums. But as you would deduce, small
ones add up.”

“Yes,” Amanda said softly.

Small ones add up. She waited unobtrusively
behind him as he spoke briefly with a group. Chairs were brought so
that the two of them might be seated at the leather- topped table
where dice were being thrown. As Amanda took her place at Gardner’s
side, she had a chilling thought. Had the angry voice she had heard
in Gardner’s study been demanding payment for a gambling debt?

Amanda refrained from betting on the roll of
the dice. It would have taken all that she had to match the wagers
of the other players. But Gardner entered in with such devotion, he
seemed as unaware of her as he was of the large amount of brandy he
consumed. She watched silently for an hour, during which time
Gardner’s luck waned, bringing a grim smile to his lips. But near
the end he had a sudden burst of good fortune and began to win.

As he claimed a large purse of coins, he
turned to Amanda, his eyes twinkling merrily.

“My dear, you are my luck tonight. I must
bring you again.”

“I am happy you haven’t lost. Really, the
amount of the wagers leaves me breathless,” she said, happy to take
her leave of the gaming room. “I cannot imagine how—”

“This is a pittance, my dear. It is my
brother Ryne who wagers high. I heard he once bet the entire
Sullivan estate on a hand of cards. You can be sure I would never
go as far as that.”

She had been shocked to see Gardner gamble.
It did not surprise her to learn that Ryne was even more addicted.
It explained, in fact, why he had no money and had bent his pride
enough to ask to stay at Wicklow. But even so, she was horrified to
learn he would wager the land. It seemed that no gentleman would go
so far as risking property that had been in his family for three
generations.

It was as they were making their way through
the rather thick, milling crowd that Amanda caught a glimpse of a
familiar figure making a brisk departure through the doorway. She
saw the gleam of a watch chain swinging from the pocket of a
brocade waistcoat and got a view of a round face set in an agitated
frown as he hurriedly donned his hat. She was absolutely certain
the man was Cecil Baldwin.

Really it was shocking to learn the three
men she knew best since coming to the colonies all shared the same
weakness. Or perhaps she was being melodramatic. It seemed half of
Williamsburg favored the gaming rooms.

“Do you still insist on returning to Wicklow
tomorrow?” Gardner asked as they strolled along the street toward
his house.

“Yes, I do,” Amanda answered. “I will not be
frightened out of my house.”

“I wish you would wait until the mystery of
this theft is cleared up. The culprit might come back.”

“I shall be sure to keep the doors locked at
all times. I am afraid that we have been careless about leaving the
house open. It would have been easy for someone to sneak in if Emma
and Trudy and I were in the garden or out for a walk. Gussie would
never know.”

Gardner breathed heavily. “I did not tell
you, Amanda, but while you have been away, I sent one of my men
from the distillery out to Wicklow to keep an eye on the
place.”

Amanda smiled and squeezed his arm. “Why,
Gardner. How thoughtful.”

“As you say, Gussie would notice little that
went on in the house, and Groom is too busy with the horses to be
aware of anything else. I wouldn’t want anything more to be stolen,
nor any harm to come to anyone there.”

“You are too kind, Gardner. But surely your
man will be needed at the distillery soon.”