"I shall take her to every entertainment I can find. I suppose she ought not dance, with Sir Frederick so recently laid in his grave, but no one could expect her to mourn that mawworm."
"But she might be in danger!" Rex insisted, feeling dread wash over him at the notion of Amanda out on the Town, in crowds, among strangers. "Whoever did the killing cannot be at ease until someone else is punished for the crime. If she is dead, the case might be considered closed."
"All the more reason for you to attend us. I depend on you to keep her safe."
"But my presence will lead people to think… that is, they will suppose…" He could not continue.
"That you are about to restore her good name? I daresay they will. Who would expect Captain Lord Rexford to turn craven?"
From anyone else, Rex would take umbrage. Now he wanted to take to his heels. He suspected the countess had intended to trap him into the parson's mousetrap from the first. "You cannot make such demands of me."
"I realize I cannot influence you, no more than I could change your father's mind. No, you could have come to me all these years to hear my side of the story. You could have responded to my letters beyond a polite thank-you. You could have said farewell when you went to war, over my objections and my tears, you must know. So no, I do not expect any show of filial devotion or obedience. I will put my trust into your own sense of honor, which is far stronger than our ties now. That will suffice. In exchange, do not expect a mother's blind love in return, for I am out of practice. I waited for decades, sending gifts, letters, money, without a token of affection in return. Know this, Jordan, if you harm Amanda, if you leave her with child, if you break that poor girl's heart, I will tell the world that you are a sorcerer, a warlock, an aberration of evil, you and your father both."
She lied. She would never tell.
"No, I will cut out your heart, like you have mine."
"I will not harm her. And she will not get pregnant. The last thing I wish is another boy so horrific even his own mother could not love him."
"Not love you?" She spoke so loud that Verity barked.
"Is that what you think? That I did not love my beautiful, brilliant, unique child? I wanted to shout from the rooftops that he was a marvel, he was a gift from God. Your father convinced me I could not, that you would be in danger if the world knew. But know this, my son. I was never, ever unfaithful to your father. And I missed you every day of my life."
She spoke the truth.
Chapter Twenty-three
Amanda did not know what to say to the countess when the older woman came into her room, followed by a maid bearing a tray with a pot of chocolate and two cups. Fortunately, Amanda did not need to say anything, for her godmother did all the talking as soon as the maid left. There would be no tears, no recriminations, no rebukes, Lady Royce insisted.
And no regrets, Amanda said to herself. Last night was the most beautiful experience of her life. She would not have forgone it for the world. If she were going to repine, it would be because nothing like that would happen again-not with Lady Royce at home, and not with Rex so principled, and so prejudiced against marriage. She had had her moment of joy, however, so could not complain.
The countess patted her hand. "Royce men are simply irresistible. I know." Then she added, proudly, "Jordan is a handsome devil, isn't he? Except for that nose, of course. That must have come from his father's side of the family. Along with his truth-his love of the truth, that is, and his mulishness. Once he understands the consequences, he will do the right thing."
Now Amanda had to speak up. "No, I swore not to force him to the altar. That would be the wrong thing for him, and thus for me. What happiness could I find, knowing he is miserable? He is not at fault, so why should he suffer? He did not seduce me; I went to his room. You must not blame him."
The countess blamed herself, the tainted meat, and her weak stomach for not arriving sooner. She had her own opinions about the source of her son's aversion to the married state, but she let that topic fall for now, pouring the chocolate into the delicate china cups. "I am only happy he is home, here with us."
"He does not intend to stay in London, so do not expect too much."
Lady Royce smiled over her drink in satisfaction, an expression that would have sent Rex scurrying for the countryside. "Oh, I think I might have found the way to keep him here. We'll just have to convince him to enjoy London while we can. And we will not speak more about last night."
Amanda shook her head. The countess made it sound as if Rex were here on holiday. "You are forgetting about Sir Frederick."
Lady Royce set down her cup. "I cannot forget that awful man and how he treated your mother. I am glad he is dead, glad you are now free to make your home with me."
Amanda's throat closed, choked on tears of gratitude no hot drink could relieve. "I feared I would have no place, if… if I have a future at all. You cannot imagine how your kindness relieves me."
"Recall, I said there were to be no tears. There are advantages to being a noblewoman of a certain age and authority. People have to listen to you." She stood and rang for a servant. "Now come, get dressed in your prettiest frock. We are going out so I can show off my godchild. I always wished for a daughter, you know."
"Out?" Amanda dreaded the stares, the whispers behind her back, the actual backs that turned when she approached so the countess's friends did not have to acknowledge her. No matter what Lady Royce declared, not even a countess could force anyone to accept an accused murderess in their midst. From what Amanda knew of the beau monde, they just might accept a killer sooner than a female who had skipped down the primrose path. The ink of scandal might rub off on their own daughters, contaminating them with lax morals or, worse, with minds of their own. The countess might have great standing in London's high society, but Amanda was not willing to put it to the test. She raised a hand to her forehead. "I am not feeling quite well, yet."
"Neither am I, but if you are well enough for midnight trysts, you are well enough for a stroll through Hyde Park."
So much for never mentioning last night again. "But I cannot bear to go out in public. Everyone will stare." If they did not throw stones at her.
Lady Royce was undaunted. "All the more reason to look your best. Too bad you cannot wear some of your mother's jewelry," she said, looking at the finery Amanda had taken out to show her. "But I suppose that would be too brazen, a young woman in mourning wearing colored stones or diamonds, with her relation barely cold in the grave. You do have dark gowns, don't you?"
Lady Royce's efficient dresser had arrived and was already going through Amanda's wardrobe, laying out her more subdued apparel, which meant her older, less fashionable gowns. When Amanda mentioned that, her ladyship declared that her abigail could make the proper alterations in a moment's work. "There is no need for solid black, under the circumstances. There is every need for you to hold your chin high. Remember, you did nothing wrong."
Amanda waited for the servant to take an armful of gowns away with her to the sewing room. "Well, I ought not to have gone to Rex's chamber." If the countess could refer to it, so could Amanda.
"No, I meant, you did not shoot the scoundrel. We shall forget that other business." Again. "My gudgeon of a son seems to have."
A man did not forget one of the most moving, stirring, intense events of his life. The most idiotic thing he had ever done! Hell, he should have jumped out the window and been done with it. Furious with himself for his lack of restraint, the countess for making him feel three years old, and his father for never explaining anything to him, he did what any sensible chap would do. He pounded on his cousin's door and aggravated someone else.