Whispers at Midnight (40 page)

Amanda rose slowly. It could not have
happened, but it had. In that instant she had lowered her lids, a
gust of air had extinguished all the candles in the ballroom and
even in the hall outside. Just as the old tales said. If someone
were there whom Jubal Wicklow did not want in his house. The way
Amanda felt, she could almost believe it had been Jubal Wicklow
showing his disapproval, and not just the wind from the
windows.

Ryne and Gardner soon had a few candles
relit.

“What was it?” Trudy asked anxiously as she
clung to Ryne’s arm.

“Why, Jubal Wicklow’s ghost,” Ryne replied
with a laugh. “Telling us we’ve danced long enough.”

“And right he is for an old man,” Cecil
Baldwin concurred. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and
mopped his brow, looking as if the exertion had indeed left him
drained.

Mr. Weller escorted Margaret from the floor.
“We do need an early start tomorrow, love,” he said.

The good nights were spoken as the group
moved into the hall and started for the stairs. Mr. Weller and
Margaret went up first, followed by Emma and Trudy.

Ryne had disappeared by the time the group
of them reached the stairs. Behind her Amanda heard Cecil draw
Gardner aside and suggest a brandy before they retired. As she
looked back she saw the two men walking into the drawing room and
felt just a little better.

***

She had not expected it but she slept
soundly. After an early breakfast the Wellers, Ariel, Gardner, and
Cecil prepared to leave. But Cecil did not go without reassuring
Amanda she had nothing further to fear from Gardner.

“It is finished,” Cecil whispered, having
taken her aside in the drawing room while the others went out to
wait for the carriages. “He has admitted his guilt and given his
word under threat of prosecution that he will make no further
action against you. I have warned him that even if there is the
slightest hint of trouble he will be held responsible.”

Amanda sighed. “I still find it hard to
believe. Gardner, above everyone, was kindest to me after I
arrived.”

“Yes, child,” Cecil said. “He started
searching for the gold when he learned the house was to be yours.
But Ryne’s moving in and then your early arrival made it impossible
for him to continue the search. By chance he learned of your
arrival that first night you were at Wicklow and tried to frighten
you with the blood on the door.”

Amanda frowned. “I remember Mrs. Campbell
saying he was often gone at night. I suppose he rode here and
slipped in the house. That would explain . . .”

“Of course. You are right, my dear. He hit
on a plan to keep frightening you, either away or into seeking his
protection. That or marrying you would have made it easy for him to
have the gold.” Cecil shook his round head. “But he will not bother
you again.” He pressed her small hands with a fervor that brought a
small wince of pain from Amanda. “You have my word.”

“I am ever in you debt,” she whispered,
lifting to her toes and kissing him fondly on the cheek.

“Only promise me this, Amanda,” he said. His
eyes had that strong dark look that once again reassured Amanda
this soft-spoken man could match wits with the best when
required.

“Say nothing of what has happened.”
Authority rang heavily in his voice, and it made her quiver a
little. “Not to anyone,” he went on. “It is part of the bargain
with Gardner.”

“I promise,” she answered.

Astride his horse, Cecil gave her a last
reassuring smile.

She had not asked what else was part of the
bargain with Gardner, but it was evident, from the rather stiff
good-bye he gave her as he mounted the roan, that he had taken
Cecil’s warning to heart.

When the carriages were out of sight, Emma
insisted she needed a nap. The dancing and the late night, she
declared, had left her weary, especially after such a short sleep.
She said Trudy was in need of a nap too, pointing out the girl’s
drooping mouth and listlessness and the dark circles beneath her
eyes.

“She’s a delicate one, she is. Ought to
spend the day resting if she is going to dance and frolic all
night.” Emma ushered a protesting Trudy up the stone steps.
“Doesn’t know what’s best for her,” Emma called to Amanda when they
were about to enter the house. “Young people don’t, usually. Take
my advice and have a good nap yourself,” she added.

“Perhaps I will do just that,” Amanda
answered. “I’m only going through the garden first.”

She walked slowly around the house. Dew
still lay in golden crystal droplets on rose petals and leaves. The
air was never sweeter than at this time of morning. The sun would
be bright and hot in another hour, but now a cool breeze swept up
from the river, rippling leaves and making a shady paradise of the
garden.

She ought to be content. She was safe now.
No one else would try to drive her away. But she could not help
grieving over the loss of a friend. She had treasured Gardner’s
friendship, and learning that it was false hurt her more than the
wicked deeds he had done.

She sat a little while listening to the
gentle cooing of the birds that favored her with their
early-morning song. How could it be in this atmosphere of peace and
beauty that she felt no less apprehensive than she had the day
before? She dropped her head to her hands. The birds overhead
reminded her of Ezra and his cruel death. Surely Gardner had not
needed to kill the bird. It went beyond reason.

“What are you thinking of?” came Ryne’s
dark, velvet voice.

Amanda rose quickly. He stood with his feet
planted firmly in front of her, his arms resting lightly on his
hips. Amanda trembled as his blue eyes looked deeply into hers.

“I thought you had gone,” she stammered.

He smiled slowly, purposefully, and his eyes
took on a dark, smoldering glow.

“I waited to be sure I could find you
alone.”

A gusty breeze with a hint of fall plucked
leaves from the treetops and flung them to the ground. Dark clouds
had drifted in from the sea and it appeared the day would become
depressingly overcast. Amanda wondered if that were only at
Wicklow, for it seemed suddenly as if a cloud of gloom had
descended over the house and would never leave.

As she heard Ryne’s voice, she felt the
gloom in her heart as well.

“Why?” She touched her fingers to her lips.
“Why, Ryne?”

“To tell you what I should have said weeks
ago.” He sighed. “That I love you. That I want you to be my wife
for that reason and no other.” He knelt beside her and took her
hand. “I swear to you, Amanda, the gold doesn’t matter to me. I’ll
sign an agreement disclaiming any right to Wicklow or the
gold.”

Her heart began to hammer wildly and she
could not speak for a moment. Ryne loved her. She had wished for
it, longed for it to be so, and now he was at her side proclaiming
that it was true. She wanted to cry out: Yes, yes . . . but
suddenly that image of him kissing Trudy sped into her mind.

He frowned. “Now I do not need to ask your
thoughts. You are thinking of Trudy. You saw us together.”

“I did,” she answered softly, dropping her
eyes. “What of Trudy?”

Ryne got to his feet and brushed the dust
from his breeches.

“Trudy is a child. I did not mislead
her.”

Amanda’s eyes dimmed. “She cares for you, I
believe. It is apparent in her face when she is near you.”

He laughed and lowered his voice. “She does
not care for me now. I explained to her last night that my heart
lies elsewhere.” Amanda looked at him unbelievingly and he exhaled
a weary sigh. “She understands.”

Did she? Did a woman ever understand if the
man she loved did not return that affection? Amanda remembered the
drawn face and dark circles under Trudy’s eyes. Were they from
tears shed over Ryne and not the result of exhaustion? Another
thought pricked her mind and she had to ask for that explanation
too.

“Who was the woman at the theater,
Ryne?”

He laughed again. “I see that I am about to
be plagued with a jealous woman. She is the wife of the man I was
to see in Richmond. But business brought him to Williamsburg, so my
plans were changed.”

“I did not see another man with you at the
theater.”

“He was detained, and rather than have Ruth
miss the start of the performance, he asked that I escort her.
Later he joined us. So you see, love, I am innocent on all
counts.”

“Of many things perhaps, but never entirely
innocent, I think,” she said with a smile.

He half-smiled in return. “I admit I have
been a bloody beast where you are concerned. But having a little
sprite of a girl bite into my heart when I was determined to
despise her was more than I could bear. I wanted to make you
miserable but only succeeded in doing the same for myself.”
Impatiently he swept a lock of hair from his forehead. “I have
asked you twice before, and in the worst of ways, to be my wife.
This time, Amanda, I pray you will not refuse. Will you wed
me?”

Amanda was intensely uncomfortable. She
could not say yes to Ryne without telling him about Gardner. They
were brothers, and if she were to be Ryne’s wife he should know the
things Gardner had done. She raised her troubled eyes to Ryne and
with a trembling voice related all that had happened, through to
Cecil Baldwin’s ending of the matter.

A tic started in Ryne’s cheek and his eyes
turned nearly black with anger. For several minutes after she had
finished, he said nothing. She was surprised, when finally he
spoke, that his voice was calm and steady.

“Do you love me, Amanda?”

“I do,” she replied.

“You will wed me?” He took her hands and
lifted her to her feet.

“Yes,” she answered softly. The outpouring
of emotions she felt astonished her. Amanda laid her head against
Ryne’s chest and looped her arms around his waist. As his arms
circled her in return, she felt a soothing warmth engulf her.

She was safe at last with the man she
loved.

Ryne brushed his lips against her hair.
“Amanda, I have to ride to Williamsburg.”

She drew away from him suddenly, finding her
tranquility short-lived.

“Not to see Gardner? Ryne, you must not.
Cecil Baldwin promised there would be no more—”

Ryne silenced her by placing a finger softly
against her lips.

“He is my brother, Amanda. I have to see
him, and not just for this reason. There is another matter long
left festering between us and I think now is the time for that one
to be settled as well.”

“Ryne, please do not go.”

He kissed her then, slowly, deeply, and once
again all her fears vanished. When his lips left hers she made no
more argument against him.

“Take care, my love,” she whispered as he
rode away. Amanda felt painfully torn between the love singing in
her heart and the worry that Ryne’s inflammable temper would be too
harsh against his brother. Finally she eased her mind with the
thought it was best she put her trust in Ryne and believe he would
do what was best for all.

Amanda returned to the house. Had she not
been consumed with thoughts of Ryne, she might have noticed
immediately that the atmosphere inside had changed. There was an
incredible stillness and yet her skin prickled and stung as if she
had been touched by a nettle. She thought she heard a soft mournful
voice calling her name and giving her a warning. But that was
preposterous. She knew who the whisperer was. And he was not here.
She had seen him ride away.

A peculiar feeling of fear slid over Amanda.
The whisper came again. She was certain she heard it this time. The
sound came from near the Turkish King. Just for a moment she had
the insane notion it was he calling to her. But the thought passed
quickly when she heard a stronger voice, a decidedly human one,
from the drawing room. She must learn to control her imagination
now that there was no longer a real danger.

“I don’t care,” Trudy said again.

Amanda looked in the doorway and found Emma
beckoning to her.

“Do come in for a moment, child. Trudy and I
found we could not nap after all and came down where the light is
better for my needlework.”

Only half-listening, Amanda turned into the
drawing room, where she saw Trudy looking dejectedly out the
window. But the girl politely turned and smiled as Amanda
entered.

“I am sure I would find it difficult to rest
too,” Amanda remarked.

Emma stopped in mid-stride and stared at
Amanda.

“Goodness, child, your face is flushed. Is
something . . . ? No, let me guess. It is something good, is it
not? You must tell us your news.”

Amanda hesitated. She hated to add any more
to Trudy’s pain; but Emma had caught her hand, and her beaming
curiosity would not be denied.

“Ryne and I are to be married,” Amanda said
in a soft clear voice.

“Married! That is splendid,” Emma said
exuberantly. “He is a fine catch, that one,” she chattered on. “A
fall wedding, I hope. You must let up help with the planning.”

“Yes, of course,” Amanda said. Trudy seemed
to be clinging to the mantel for support. Ryne had been terribly
wrong to think her unaffected by his attention. Amanda’s heart went
out to the girl. It seemed quite cruel that she had to learn of the
marriage when her own feelings for Ryne were still unsettled.

“We must have a little celebration now,
Amanda. Some sherry perhaps, and then you can rest. I see that you
need it. You are very excited, as well you should be. Trudy.”

She motioned to her niece. “You pour the
sherry.”

“Yes, Aunt Emma,” Trudy answered, and seemed
to recover her composure as she looked at Amanda. “We must
celebrate.”

“Amanda, sit here.” Emma led Amanda to a
plump chair near the fireplace. “This is something of a surprise to
everyone, you know. We really did not suspect . . .”