Whispers at Midnight (32 page)

He didn’t knock when he returned, and
somehow it pleased her to turn around and find him watching her tie
the ribbons of a white cap under her chin.

“You look angelic, my sweet.” He stood close
behind her, his arms wrapping her waist, his cheek brushing hers.
She could see his face in the mirror as the corners of his mouth
lifted into a teasing smile. “If I did not know how hotly the fire
burns inside you, I would—”

She cut his words short. “Are you trying to
make me ashamed?”

He spun her around and gripped her shoulders
tightly. “No. There is no shame in loving, Amanda. No shame in
sharing what we have shared. You must not think it.”

“I don’t,” she whispered softly, tilting her
head back and making her parted rosy lips too tempting for him to
resist.

His tongue traced the soft fullness of them,
explored the soft recesses of her mouth. Amanda moaned lightly. It
seemed her body vibrated with new life when he touched her. She
loved the feel of him. If only it could last. If only there would
be no more hard words between them.

“Please, Ryne, please,” she whispered
silently. “Let it last.”

Ryne pulled away from her. “Ahh, sweet
bedeviling Amanda.” His voice trembled. “If I do not leave now, I
will not go this day.”

She laughed breathlessly. “Then let us go. I
could not bear to know I had kept you from your horses.”

Ryne’s countenance turned suddenly serious.
“There is one thing more I want to say before I go.” He brushed his
fingertips softly against her cheek. “I think we should marry.”

“Marry?” Her lashes flew up. “But,
Ryne—”

He silenced her with a raised hand.

“Say nothing now. Think on it. There could
be a child, you know.”

“Ryne—”

Again he silenced her. “No,” he whispered.
“I have to ride to Richmond for a few days. We’ll talk when I
return. Come along, now. You promised to walk out with me.”

He kissed her again before he rode away. She
could feel his heart hammering against his chest as his warm, moist
lips crushed her mouth. She hoped he knew her answer, that he could
see it illuminated in her eyes.

“Good-bye, love,” she whispered.

His eyes blazed down into hers.

“Soon,” he said.

***

She watched him gallop away until he and the
horse were only a speck in the distance. Already the sun was hot,
even for July. Amanda took the shaded path from the stable to the
house, stopping along the way to pick a bouquet of flowers.

She smiled lightly. For once she was sure
she had risen earlier than Emma and Trudy. Dear old Gussie would be
astonished to see her downstairs at this early hour.

She was arranging her flowers in a bowl on
the dining table when Emma came in.

“Why, Amanda.” A look of astonishment
touched Emma’s full face. “You are up early. Did you have a bad
night?”

“I had a wonderful night,” Amanda answered,
her voice bright and sunny.

“Of course,” Emma went on. “You are excited
about attending the theater tonight.” Her smile faded. “I only wish
Trudy’s and my visit to Williamsburg was on such pleasant
business.” Emma sniffed. “Well, no use crying over spilled cream.
And Mr. Baldwin is good enough to let us stay at his house so we
don’t have to pay for an inn.”

“Dear Emma.” Amanda patted the older woman’s
shoulder consolingly. How awful it must have been for her to lose
both her husband and her home. In the weeks Amanda had been at
Wicklow she had come to know how important one’s home, whether
simple or grand, could be. Why, if she were to lose Wicklow, she
would be devastated.

“Oh, fuss. Listen to me, complaining when I
have my darling niece and you who treat me as your own aunt. The
devil take me for my grumbling,” she said as she nervously smoothed
the folds of the crisp white handkerchief crisscrossed over her
bodice. “Have you had your tea?”

Trudy came down a few minutes later and the
three of them shared a simple but delicious breakfast which Gussie
served. They talked of the trip to the city, for it had been
arranged that they would ride in together. Amanda thought Trudy
would be excited about the chance of meeting some other young
people, but it seemed the girl had relapsed into the shy,
unresponsive mood she had had on first arriving at Wicklow. She
hardly glanced at either Amanda or Emma throughout the meal.

“She’s nervous, that one,” Emma said. “Has a
young man she’s sweet on and won’t say who.”

“That’s not true, Aunt Emma,” Trudy said
quickly. But the way her cheeks reddened, Amanda thought it must be
so.

“Perhaps you’ll have a chance to see him.”
Amanda smiled at her.

“There’s no one I want to see,” Trudy
insisted, her cheeks reddening more.

Amanda left them and went to her room. She
had forgotten altogether that she was to go to the theater with
Gardner. She laughed to herself. That was what Ryne had done to her
thoughts. If it were possible, perhaps she would send her regrets
and wait at Wicklow for Ryne’s return. But she hated to disappoint
Gardner. He had been too kind and she had promised. Besides, she
would certainly be back at Wicklow before Ryan returned.

Amanda packed a dress of sea-green silk for
the theater. If her social life were to remain so active, she would
have to get busy with her needle. But the green would be wonderful
with the emerald earrings. And the blue dress she wore would do for
the dusty carriage ride into the city. She packed another for the
following day and started into the small sitting room that adjoined
her bedroom. As she opened the door, she was deciding what jewelry
she would take. The pearls, of course, and the silver chain of Aunt
Elise’s—no, it belonged to her now—would be pretty with the
blue.

The sitting room, rose-colored like the
bedroom, would be pleasant in the winter with a fire going in the
grate. She hardly used the room now. The bedroom was much cooler
and she had taken little time for reading or resting since she had
arrived. But it did contain the small compartment hidden in the
mantel and there she had locked up the few pieces of jewelry she
had kept, thinking it safer than beneath the gowns in a chest.

She had reason to doubt her wisdom the
moment she entered the room, as all the fears and apprehensions she
had thought vanished forever came crowding back like a heavy black
fog. She had that strange vexing feeling again, as if ice had
touched her skin. She had felt the same the day she found the
ship’s log in the attic room. She knew, too, though there was no
explanation of it, that she was being given a warning to take great
care not to trust all those around her.

Amanda glanced cautiously around the room.
Someone had lit a candle recently and spilled the wax on the little
table by the sofa. The room contained a large writing table as
well, and it was that which caught her attention next. Only a few
days ago she had polished that table and cleaned the room, so she
knew it had been left in good order. But now the drawers of the
writing table had been pulled out and left partially open. It came
to her instantly that someone had searched the room.

She dashed to the mantel and felt beneath
the ornate carving. A sinking anguish came as she pulled the little
compartment open. The brooch, the pearl earrings, and the silver
chain were gone.

Amanda’s knees weakened and her throat
closed up. Oh, no, not Ryne. She wouldn’t think it. She couldn’t.
Not after what had happened. Not after what he said. But she could
not stop the thoughts that kept reminding her there had been no
trouble at Wicklow when he was gone.

***

Amanda rode silently for miles. At last Emma
could stand it no more and reached across the seat to pat her
hand.

“Now, now. Don’t fret. They’ll turn up. What
with all the cleaning and moving we’ve done this week, you might
have moved them yourself and forgot.”

“I didn’t. I’m sure of it,” Amanda said
sadly, more than the loss of the jewelry troubling her, though the
weightier matters she kept to herself.

“I wouldn’t want you to think that Trudy or
I—”

“Oh no, Emma, I don’t. And I’m sure Gussie
didn’t move them. Either someone has slipped into the house or . .
.”

“Or?” Emma’s brows lifted.

“I don’t know,” Amanda answered, feeling a
sinking in her stomach. She couldn’t tell Emma she suspected Ryne
of taking the jewelry or that he had spent the night in her
room.

Emma made a clucking sound. “I think you are
making a fuss for nothing. You’ll find the lot of it in your
bedroom somewhere.”

Amanda gave a half-smile. “I hope you are
right.”

At lunch, Gardner also tried to convince her
that the jewelry had only been misplaced and not stolen. But even
as he insisted she would find it, she noticed the hidden look of
concern in his eyes and was deeply moved that he should care so
much.

“I do worry about you, Amanda.” He pressed
her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Only women out there so far
from anyone, and Ryne, I am sure, is never there to offer any
protection.”

Amanda dropped her head slightly so that he
would not see her blush.

“No. He is not often there,” she said.

Shortly afterward Gardner returned to the
distillery and Amanda walked to the jeweler’s to get her earrings.
At least she still had the fifty pounds from Mr. Craig and the
emeralds. The journey took a little longer than she anticipated
because she saw and spoke briefly with several persons she had met
at Gardner’s the week before. By the time she arrived at the Golden
Ball, she was feeling much better. Wasn’t it possible, as Emma
said, that in all the rearranging she had moved the missing jewelry
and forgotten?

Mr. Craig, the jeweler, arrived at the shop
just as Amanda did. He greeted her by name and they went in
together. Amanda took out the little purse that contained the
receipt and was surprised to find it empty. Perhaps she had picked
up the wrong bag, she thought as she smiled sweetly at the jeweler
she had traded with the week before.

“I’m afraid I have lost the receipt, Mr.
Craig,” she said. “But surely you have not had anyone else leave
emerald earrings for repair.” At least she still had the emeralds,
and they were the only pieces of any great value.

Craig laughed. “There are few here who would
have any as fine as those. Miss Fairfax. Wait a moment, would you.
Let me get Thomas. He did the repair. I have been out of the shop
all week.”

Amanda glanced at a gold comb made in a
shell pattern and at the beautiful wares of a silversmith while she
waited for Mr. Craig. What was taking the man so long?

After a few more minutes the curtain at the
back of the shop was pushed aside and Mr. Craig came out, followed
by his assistant. She noticed right away the look of strain on his
face and the paleness of his assistant as Mr. Craig mumbled to
him.

“There is a problem, Miss Fairfax,” Craig
stammered.

“What problem?”

“A young lady called for the emeralds no
more than an hour ago.”

“But that is preposterous. Why would you
release them to anyone but me?”

“Forgive me. Miss Fairfax.” Wringing his
hands, Thomas spoke up. “Mr. Craig wasn’t here and I thought the
young lady was you. She looked almost the same.”

“But still,” Amanda protested, “you should
have made certain.”

“But, Miss Fairfax, see this.” Thomas slid a
piece of paper in front of her. “She had the receipt.”

Amanda looked into those mild blue eyes and
thought they were extremely soft and gentle. She had to trust
him.

“Someone is tormenting me, Gardner. I do not
think it coincidence that first the jewelry at Wicklow disappeared
and now the emeralds have been stolen.” She leaned toward him. “Do
not forget the chess set. And last week I was deliberately locked
in a room the entire night.”

“You did not tell me of that.”

“I knew you thought I was only imagining
these things. But now you must believe me. There is a connection
among these things. I’m frightened.”

Gardner’s face clouded with uneasiness.
“Amanda, I think you should leave Wicklow and stay here with me for
a few weeks. It will give you time to think things out, and here
nothing can happen to disturb you.” He took her trembling hand in
his. “I hesitate to advise it, but perhaps you would do well to
follow Cecil Baldwin’s advice and sell.”

“No,” she responded sharply, drawing her
hand away. “I won’t. I’ll return to Wicklow tomorrow as
planned.”

He stared at her for a moment and then
decided there was no point pursuing the topic at present.

“Then try to forget all this for a little
while. The Whitneys are dining here with us and then we are joining
a party for the theater. Try to enjoy the evening.”

Amanda drew a deep breath and forced herself
to grow calm. Gardner was right, as usual. There was nothing more
she could do today. The thefts had been reported and an
investigation was being made.

The other things that had happened at
Wicklow she really did not care to bring to the attention of the
authorities. They were no more likely to believe her than Gardner
or Cecil Baldwin had been at first, and with all she had to contend
with, she did not wish to be termed hysterical as well.

“Yes, I will. And if you would excuse me,
Gardner, I would like to take a nap before the Whitneys
arrive.”

She heard him leave just before she drifted
off to sleep. The distillery kept him extremely busy. Really she
didn’t know how he managed it all so successfully, the distillery,
the estate he farmed, and an active social calendar. But this fine
house and the elegant furnishings bespoke the high measure of his
success.