In the Garden of Deceit (Book 4) (29 page)

“Indeed,”
he said in self-disgust. James reached over and pulled her into his
arms as he lay back down. His erection nestled into her belly and he
groaned. “I wasn’t expecting to become so caught up in
the moment, but I’ll manage.”

“If
it’s very bad—”

“No,
I made a promise. I’d much rather you were in the spirit of the
thing than acquiescing because you feel you should. I ask a favor of
you, however.”

“Yes?”

“The
next time you’re angry with me, or even just a little annoyed,
remember this moment and afford me a little latitude. Tonight I go to
sleep feeling like a martyr.” James hoped he would sleep. At
the moment he wasn’t certain.

Amanda
gave him that smile again, which only added to the sweet misery, and
kissed him softly on the lips. “Duly noted, my lord—and
agreed.”

***

CHAPTER 19

Amanda
awoke to a sensation of utter contentment. She lay quietly basking in
those few pleasurable moments one experiences before thoughts
coalesce into memory. Then she recalled yesterday and a pall settled
over her spirits.

At
once she heard movement in the room. James was shaving his face at
the washbasin.

“James?”

He
looked over his shoulder then turned around, straight-edge razor in
one hand. “You’re awake. Good morning, love.”

“You’re
up early,” she said.

“Not
so early, actually.”

Amanda
glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel, but it was still
stalled at the time of her father’s death. She sighed. “What
time is it?”

“Half
passed eight.”

“Today
that
is
early. Are you going somewhere?”

James
finished a final couple of swipes on his chin with the razor before
answering. He reached for a damp cloth on the basin, cleaning the
shaving soap from his face as he moved toward the bed. He sat on the
edge of the mattress.

“I
have an appointment with Derrick.”

Amanda
sat up. “Oh, James, do you think that wise? Derrick is
unbalanced, I think.”

“What
can he do when all is said and done? Truth is, this is not only about
him and me—or even you, for that matter. I want to protect Aunt
Henry. I’ve had enough. Poor thing, she had enough a long time
ago. I can’t make my cousin a better person, but I
can
do something to stop the daily cruelties he inflicts on her. And
you’re right—he was an unpleasant, jealous adolescent,
but over the years I believe something has happened to his mind.”

“I
still say the type of hate he exhibits can be dangerous.”

James
leaned over and placed his hand at the back of her neck, pulling her
toward him. He kissed her gently. “I’ll take care, I
promise.”

***

“Do
you have reason to feel the accommodations are less than adequate,
Derrick?”

James
and his cousin sat in the parlor of Derrick’s newly-rented
townhouse, facing each other in formal wingback chairs which were
positioned in front of a window overlooking the street. Though small,
the parlor was well-appointed, and James found it warm and inviting.
Unfortunately, his host was not.

Derrick,
sipping a brandy, said, “Compared to the wealth you now
control, I find this a paltry offering. So yes, to that question.”

“What
am I not doing for you?” James, hands folded in his lap, had
not been offered libation. He decided not to question whether it was
bad manners or a slight. It mattered little either way.

“Should
I go down the list?”

James
kept his irritation fully masked. “Please do,” he
drawled.

“Let’s
not even discuss the townhouse itself—though it’s clearly
basic in every way—or the two servants you’ve allotted
me. But its location? You’ve placed me in the slums.”

“Not
slums, certainly.”

“Close
enough. There’s poverty less than a stone’s throw beyond
my door.” Derrick’s nose was pinched in disgust. “Most
offensive.”

“What
else?”

“My
clothing allowance does not afford a decent tailor. The shop you
chose is not competent. As to that, my allowance in general is rather
puny.”

“I
see. And?”

“You
gave me a horse.”

“One
of the best in my stable.”

“But
I want a carriage!” The young man’s voice was peevish,
almost shrill. “What good is a horse without a carriage?”

“I
think you would see the value of a horse if you were required to walk
or hire a hack whenever you wanted to go somewhere. Not having a
horse would keep you tied to the city—unless, of course, you
enjoy traveling in a crowded stagecoach.” James initial
irritation had turned to amusement and utter disbelief at his
cousin’s lack of gratitude. “Is there anything else?”

“I’d
like a phaeton but I don’t expect that, naturally.”

“Naturally.
So let’s see, the housing is inadequate, as is your allowance,
especially for clothing, you need more servants—
and
you
want a phaeton.”

“I
said I didn’t expect that,” Derrick muttered, attitude
turning from ungracious to sullen.

“I
do appreciate your reasonableness, I really do.” James was
struggling not to laugh outright. “Now, let me explain,
Derrick, where you and I stand with one another. I have done all I’m
willing to do for you. And I use the word
willing
grudgingly.
What I do I do because of Aunt Henry. If not for her, you would find
yourself on the street.”

Derrick
bounced to his feet. “I’m family! Don’t you care
what happens to me?”

“I
used to—before you tried to destroy my marriage. Before you
made your mother cry every day.” James came to his feet as
well. “What the hell is the matter with you, man? Have you no
sense at all?”

“You
can’t just throw me aside like so much rubbish.”

“Actually,
I can—”

Derrick
began to splutter unintelligibly, his face a mottled red.

“—and
I will do so if you cause any more trouble. And Derrick?” James
leaned forward and grabbed his cousin by the collar of his shirt. “I
want you to stay away from Aunt Henry unless you have permission from
me. I will be overseeing your visits with her.”

The
younger man clutched at the hand trussing up his throat as he fought
to free himself. “You think to keep me from my own mother?”
he gasped.

“You
have hurt her enough. It ends now.”

“She’ll
never accept your interference!”

James
dropped his hand, and Derrick staggered away from him.

“You
would be surprise how your mother feels.” The disgust that
filled him also filled his voice. “Understand me, Derrick, this
is not a request. If you disobey me, I will turn you out without so
much as a sou.”

“You
won’t get away with this!” Derrick bit back as he rubbed
at his throat.

James
didn’t bother to answer him. He moved into the foyer to the
front door, accepting his hat and cane from a wide-eyed male servant
who ushered him outside. A scream of rage echoed through the bottom
floor and, as the door was closing, he heard what sounded like a
brandy glass being dashed against the stone facade of the fireplace.

He
stood on the walk in front of the townhouse, assessing the condition
of the neighborhood. The adjacent homes were modest, well-kept not
shabby, not even vaguely implying poverty. Those pedestrians on the
street were stylish, not wealthy perhaps but suitably outfitted.
There were no beggars, no ladies of ill-repute, all in all a
respectable place to live.

James
sighed as he started down the walk to his carriage, signaling the
driver to open the door for him. Derrick wanted to live the life of
an affluent man. He wanted the cache that came with having and
spending money. The saddest part of all was that James would have
been happy to share with his cousin, to provide him not only with a
wealthy lifestyle now but a bank account that would ensure his
future, open opportunities for his marital hopes. But his cousin had
chosen resentment and discontent over loyalty and cooperation. Thus
when it came down to it, he had no desire to help Derrick live more
affluently, to find a wife. As to that, he’d pity the
unfortunate woman who would be tied to him.

As
James stepped up into the carriage, he glanced back at the townhouse.
Derrick stood at the window, staring out at him. He couldn’t
see the younger man’s expression, but his stance was obvious
even at that distance and through a pane of glass. The hatred he
sensed, coming from that small parlor, was unnerving.

For
the first time, James wondered if he had underestimated Derrick’s
anger. Because it had always seemed to him to be so immature and
irrational, he had brushed it aside. But now…maybe he should
have paid more attention.

***

Amanda
despised mourning black and the crape that trimmed every garment she
was forced to wear. She had worn it when her mother died, and she was
wearing it now that Papa had passed. She detested the confinement as
well, the total lack of freedom that said she must stay indoors
behind closed drapes. If she should venture into the outside world,
she must be heavily veiled, and her journey must be considered an
accepted reason for doing so, such as Sunday morning services. She
loved her father and had no desire to dishonor his memory, but Amanda
chafed at the restrictions. Especially since she knew exactly how he
had felt about what he called “the foolishness associated with
burying the dead.”

The
last ten days since the funeral, James had been deeply involved in
seeing to her father’s affairs. He left early every morning and
did not return until the dinner hour at night. Archie Campbell’s
business dealings were considerably more complicated than his own
father’s because the earl had been virtually penniless. Her
father, on the other hand, had been rich as Croesus.

Though
James had said little, she suspected he was overwhelmed by the sheer
enormity of Archie’s holdings, and—as directed by her
father’s will—the taking control of such a vast empire.
Unfortunately, it would be weeks before they could return to Lonsdale
due to the amount of work that lay before him. Amanda suspected that
James was not averse to being wealthy. However, he found the
responsibility of managing that wealth intimidating and burdensome.
She smiled to herself.
Beware of what you wish for…

Tonight
James had not made it home in time for dinner, and she had sat in a
very large dining hall, eating alone. The twins had gone back to
Lonsdale and, though Aunt Henry had stayed with Amanda to provide
companionship, the old lady had been indisposed with a sick headache
most of the day.

Amanda
trudged upstairs when she finished eating, feeling abandoned—not
a reasonable response perhaps, but an understandable one given her
newly-wedded state and the lack of social interaction currently
available in the abandoned mansion. Thank goodness for the servants
or she would have felt as if she had taken up residence in a tomb.

She
entered her bedchamber since she and James had continued to use her
old room. Now she understood why James was reluctant to commandeer
his father’s rooms at Lonsdale. In the future she would
renovate her father’s suite, and James and she would take up
residence there when they were in the city, but for now it was simply
too early and seemingly presumptuous to consider.

She
sat down at the dressing table, looking at herself in the mirror. At
least if she were fair-haired, there would some contrast to all that
depressing black. She took off her gloves, also black, and began
pulling the pins from the chignon at the nape of her neck. She had
just removed the last one, shaking her hair loose, when a tap at the
door caused her to turn around on the bench.

Her
husband stuck his head in the door, and her heart stuttered at it
always did when she saw him. Lord, he was handsome! He also looked
exhausted.

“James!
I’m positively thrilled to see you.” She stood up,
quickly crossed the room to welcome him as he entered the room, and
threw her arms around his neck.

He
returned her embrace, hugging her tightly to him. He leaned back from
her, a pleased grin spreading across his features. “What have I
done to deserve such a delightful greeting?”

She
bit her lip, containing a smile. “Why, ended my boredom, my
lord.”

He
laughed. “Bored, are we? Spend the day going over endless
documents and ledgers and listening to a veritable army of clerks and
bookkeepers all speaking in dry monotones and you’ll discover
the true meaning of boredom.”

“Oh
my, that does sound like a fine time. I apologize. Your day was worse
than mine.”

“Indeed.”
James sat wearily on the bed and reached for his cravat, loosening
it.

She
sat next to him. “Have you eaten?”

“A
meal was brought in for those of us who stayed past the dinner hour,
but I can’t remember now what it was.”

“Are
you hungry?”

His
eyes darkened and his expression took on a hungry look of a different
kind. “Perhaps.”

Amanda
was shocked by an immediate sexual response, a flooding of sensation
in her pelvis that quickened her respiration. She gulped in a tight
breath. Her reaction must have been reflected on her face because his
attitude went from teasing to deadly serious. She felt her cheeks
flush.

James
leaned his shoulder into her and nuzzled her throat, his mouth warm
and moist on the sensitive area beneath her ear. “Are we
sufficiently recovered from our grief to resume our, ah…romantic
pursuits?” he murmured before tickling her earlobe with his
tongue.

Amanda
laughed, a sultry trill that surprised her even more than the desire
that was swirling through her system. Could she be making that wanton
sound? On a sensible level she might be uncertain how to answer his
question—
should
she be recovered enough?—but her
body had apparently decided on an unequivocal
yes.
Besides, he
had been more than patient since the funeral, waiting without
complaining, not once making her feel pressured to move beyond her
sorrow.