In the Garden of Deceit (Book 4) (5 page)

Amanda
was grateful that her glove was a barrier between her and actual
contact with the man. How could anyone so beautiful be so repellent?

“Thank
you,” James replied in a dry voice. He rescued his wife’s
hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

“I
suppose that makes us cousins as well,” Derrick said to Amanda.
“Welcome to the family.”

If
she’d had a gauge to measure sincerity, he would have failed
completely. Although he now directed his remarks at her, she had the
unnerving feeling that they were meant solely for James. An
undercurrent of tension charged the air, and even the viscount’s
mother stirred restlessly as though she were feeling uncomfortable.

“Would
you grant me a waltz before the end of the evening?” Derrick
continued. “Unfair of James to claim them all.” He raised
his brows at her—waiting—as if aware that dancing with
him was the last thing she wanted to do.

So
naturally she must consent. “Of course,” she said, her
voice as cool as his was mocking.

Derrick
smirked, his regard shifting to James. Beside her she felt the earl
tense. When she looked at him, his jaw was working, his expression
stony.

James
bowed stiffly and, with obvious deliberation, placed Amanda’s
hand on his arm. He sent an apologetic smile to his aunt who looked
crestfallen.

“We’ll
talk later, Aunt Henry,” he said. One more glance at the
viscount—Amanda would have sworn there was a warning in it—and
he led her away to greet the rest of their guests.

The
remainder of the evening passed in a blur. It was a testament to the
popularity of Earl Lonsdale and his family that so many of the
aristocracy came to a bridal party hosted by the very common
Archibald Campbell. Most of the earl’s friends were kind and
gracious, but there were those who barely contained their
condescension. Rather than being offended, Amanda made an extra
effort to graciously change their minds. By evening’s end the
talk that filtered through the gathering was almost completely
positive. James Tremont had done well for himself.

Toward
dawn, James and Amanda found themselves alone for the first time in
hours. “I meant to tell you about my family,” he began.

“Oh?”
She kept her gaze on the people still milling around the ballroom.

“They
are, ah,” he cleared his throat, “they are something of
an inheritance. My father cared for them, and I’m afraid they
have become dependent.”

She
turned to him, watching him closely.

“I
can’t put them out, Manda. I couldn’t sleep at night.”

“Your
Aunt Henry is right, my lord.”

He
wrinkled his forehead as if trying to understand. “She is?”

“A
good man takes care of his responsibilities.”

It
seemed to take him a moment to catch her meaning. All at once his
face brightened with elation—and something more. James placed
his arm around her waist and drew her near.

“Thank
you,” he said huskily.

Amanda
was to think later that life turned on a mysterious wheel,
unpredictable and often cruel. At the instant that James and she were
feeling closer than ever before, when hope was at its highest, fate
intervened in the form of Derrick Bickford.

The
viscount approached as the final waltz was announced. His beautiful
smile was confident and sly as he held out his hand to Amanda.

“Come
to claim my dance,” he said. Again, his attention seemed
directed at the earl and not her.

James
bristled. “This is the last dance of the evening, Derrick. I
hardly think it appropriate that my new wife gives it to you.”

“Oh,
come now, Cousin, what’s the harm?”

“The
harm,
Cousin
—”

Amanda
touched her husband’s arm. “No scenes, please, James. Not
at the end of such a wonderful day. I did promise Derrick a waltz.”

“Are
you certain?” he asked. “He’s being rude and he
knows it.”

Derrick
shrugged his shoulders in an innocent gesture that implied he had no
idea what the earl was talking about.

“It’s
only a dance,” she said.

The
earl’s gaze whipped back and forth between the two of them
before he nodded curtly. “I’ll be waiting right here,”
he stated darkly.

“I’m
sure you will,” Derrick murmured, his smug expression never
wavering. He placed his hand at Amanda’s back, almost
caressingly, and escorted her onto the dance floor.

The
viscount was an excellent dancer, and Amanda concentrated on
following his lead rather than talking. She was aware that he watched
her, aware of his hand at her waist, and that he held her too
closely. One glance at James standing at the periphery of the
ballroom told her that he was aware of it, also.

Derrick
interrupted her thoughts. “Are you normally this quiet, or have
you saved your silence for me?”

“I’m
tired, I think. It’s been a long day.”

“So
it has.”

Something
in his voice forced her to look at him. Her stomach dropped. Derrick
was watching her, his gaze almost crude in its carnality.

“Wouldn’t
you know,” he said, his tone heavy with meaning, “my
cousin marries the sort of woman who attracts me most.”

She
tensed. “This is my wedding day, sir.”

“I
thought perhaps I should put my feelings out in the open.”

“Why?”

He
shrugged. “Thought you might want to know.”

Amanda’s
eyes narrowed, nervousness forgotten. “I have a
feeling
about you, Lord Lindley.”

“Do
you, now?”

“If
James had married a simian, you would want it. Your jealously is what
you have revealed, my lord.”

The
hand at her waist tightened, only her corset keeping his fingers from
digging painfully into her side. Strangely, she had no other
indication that he was affected. His expression remained unchanged.

“Very
sure of yourself, aren’t you, my dear?”

“Meaning?”

“Have
you given any thought as to why a man of my cousin’s stature
would marry the daughter of a lowly plebeian, beautiful though she
may be?”

Every
instinct Amanda possessed told her to flee. This was not something
she wanted to hear, not now, not tonight. She cast her husband a
frightened glance. Derrick looked at the earl, also, his smile now
challenging and malicious. She saw James start in their direction,
but gave her head a quick shake, staying him.

Derrick’s
gaze still locked on James, he said, “My cousin inherited debts
and obligations and little else. He has been forced to consider how
to mend his situation.” His regard shifted to her. “A
marriage of convenience? Distasteful but done all the time. However,
his sacrifice need not be all painful. Why not marry a woman who can
pleasantly warm his bed while he recovers financially?”

She
felt the blood drain from her face. She was right. She didn’t
want to hear this. “I don’t believe you!”

He
ignored her outburst. “Personally, I understand his motives. My
finances mirror his. I will most likely have to seek a marriage
beneath me to repair my circumstances. I’m not in despair,
however. A lovely body can do much to tame the beast.” His
strange gaze deepened. “You’re right about one thing—I
do envy my cousin this night.”

Amanda
pulled away from him. “Why are you doing this?”

“As
I said, I thought you would want to know.”

“Then
you thought wrong.”

“Forewarned
is forearmed, as they say. You may hate me now but later you’ll
thank me.”

“You
are an evil person,” she said, her voice trembling.

Derrick
shrugged again. “Slaying the messenger?”

“You’re
full of quotes, aren’t you? But all the platitudes in the world
won’t hide who and what you are. Keep away from me, Lord
Lindley. You and I have no need to ever speak to one another again.”

Amanda
left him in the middle of the dance floor and stalked across the
room, unconcerned by the way her hooped skirt bounced wildly in
response. James met her as she reached the door to the ballroom.

“Manda?”
His brows were drawn together in a deep frown. “Are you all
right? What did Derrick say to upset you?”

The
pain around her heart was so intense, Amanda couldn’t breathe.
She opened her mouth to speak and found she had no voice. To her
humiliation her chin quivered. She clamped her lips together and
shook her head, pushing passed him.

She
was certain she left a scene behind her but she didn’t care.
There was only one person she wanted to see right now. Amanda could
imagine his outrage when she told him, his demand for retribution.
She went in search of her father.

***

James
found Derrick hiding in the garden. Anger filled every corner of his
body, and he was grateful that he did not have a weapon. In his
present mood he wasn’t certain he would have refrained from
using it. He advanced on his cousin, who did not look nearly so cocky
anymore, backing him into the trunk of an old gnarled elm tree.

“Explain
what just happened in there,” he ground out.

The
viscount swallowed. “Don’t know what you mean.”

James
grabbed his collar and yanked—hard—bringing them nose to
nose. “You upset Amanda, Derrick. What did you say to her?”

Derrick
went white around the mouth. “N-nothing I’m certain she
d-didn’t already know.”

“Enlighten
me.”

“We
were t-talking about the differences in the classes, a-and why a man
like you would marry a woman like—” He broke off
abruptly, his eyes widening with fear as James bellowed a curse in
his face.

“Damnable
coward! I ought to flay you alive.”

“James,
surely she’s not that naive.” A begging quality had
entered his voice.

“My
reasons for marrying Amanda are mine and mine alone.”

“We
were only t-talking. I meant no harm.”

“You
bastard, who cares whether it was intentional or not? The damage is
done.” James dropped his hand and his cousin staggered away
from him. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you?” he
said, disgusted. “Spiteful as always. You haven’t changed
a wit since we were boys.”

Derrick
clutched at his throat. Blood suffused his complexion, and his eyes
were suspiciously bright. “You know what I think, Cousin?”

“Do
you think I care?” James snarled.

Apparently,
now that the earl was no longer in his face, Derrick’s
uncertain courage resurfaced. “I think you’ve grown soft
over a woman who is only one generation away from the gutter. How the
mighty have fallen.”

James
no longer felt the need to control the demon anger that fought to
take him. He let the rage, hot and all-consuming, roll over him. He
took one step forward, reared back and with all his force punched his
cousin’s smug mouth. Derrick crumpled like a cloth doll.

For
several moments he stood over the fallen viscount, fists clenched.
His voice when he finally spoke was harsh with constrained violence.
“What you think, what you say about me, is of no import. Amanda
is another matter. She is my wife, will be the mother of my
children—” He hoped. James gulped on the bitter memory of
betrayal on her face. “Bloody ingrate, I spare you the beating
you deserve for your mother’s sake.”

“James,
I—”

The
earl cut him off. “I expect your things to be gone from
Lonsdale before Amanda and I arrive.”

Derrick
stared up at him, eyes shiny with panic in the darkened garden. “I
have nowhere to go.”

“Should
have thought of that before you took it upon yourself to ruin my
wedding day.”

James
strode away without looking back.

***

CHAPTER
4

“Papa!
I can’t believe you are saying this to me.”

Amanda
watched her father’s implacable features with growing alarm. He
was seated behind his desk in the library, fat fingers laced across
his middle, seemingly unperturbed by her distress.

“What
you ask is impossible, Amanda.” He wheezed, coughing. “There
will be no annulment.”

“But
I was deceived.” She crossed the room to stand over him.
“Surely, you can’t want me to stay with a man who has
lied to me.”

“What
was his lie, Manda?”

“I
told you! He married me for
your
money.” Even as she
spoke, her voice broke with a new rush of pain.

“I
see. You disapprove of a marriage that considers the financial
arrangements?”

Momentarily,
she was too startled to speak. “Not…necessarily. But I
thought James—” She could not finish saying what she
thought. Her throat had closed over the words.

For
the first time since they had entered the room, her father’s
expression softened. “Sweetheart, be reasonable. There is
always the business side of any contract. I want to know that my
son-in-law can support you in the manner to which you have become
accustomed.”

Disbelief
made her squeak, “You are going to give him money?”

“A
dowry, Manda. What’s wrong with that?”

Nothing,
actually, when put that way, done all the time. But there was
something odd about the transaction that left her feeling used and
uninformed.

“It’s
more than the formality of receiving a dowry, Papa. I understand that
James is in serious financial trouble. He had to make a wealthy match
or lose everything. It is one thing to accept a dowry as a customary
gesture and another to
need
it.”

“Well,
then,” he said slyly, “aren’t you pleased that you
can help him?”

Amanda
blinked at her father, dumbstruck. How could he be so obtuse?
Pleased? Her heart was breaking and he wanted to know if she was
pleased? To her horror, she began to cry.

“Oh,
Papa.” Her fingers shook when she raised a gloved hand to dab
at her eyes. “This is not what I expected, not what I wanted.”