Barbara Metzger - Truly Yours

"And you did not want me enough to fight him."

"Fight a hurricane? Fight a blizzard? I did swallow my pride and go to Royce Hall. He asked me if I were breeding, accusing me of coming home to plant another man's by-blow in his nest."

Rex swallowed, hard. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him to go to hell. I went back to London and never approached him again. I thought that would be easier for you, instead of constant good-byes. I always spoke to my friends of his integrity, his devotion to the law, for what that was worth. I told everyone that there was no more honest man in all of creation. I believed it then, and believe it now, in spite of his behavior toward me, which I told no one. I convinced some people. But not Sir Nigel."

Rex's bad leg was growing weary from standing, but he did not wish to show his weakness by sitting down again. "Ah, Sir Nigel. Did you know he is the one pressing for a speedy trial, and a speedier hanging?"

"Yes, and you can blame me for that, too."

"You?"

"He wished to marry me, you know. No, how could you? He was a promising lawyer then, of good family, and I considered his suit until I met your father. I think that was why he was so vengeful about that minor court case, where your father could not convict an innocent man despite the evidence. Sir Nigel wanted to get even. And then, when I took up residence here, alone, he approached me again."

"You were still married."

The countess raised her chin. "I am married to this very day, and until I die. The barrister had a far less honorable proposal this time. I rejected him again, with a great deal less politeness than before. I tossed my wineglass in his face and barred him from the house. I believe that is why he was delighted to accuse Amanda, knowing of my affection for her."

Rex thought about that, wondering if Sir Nigel hated the Royce family enough to kill Sir Frederick for revenge.

No, he could not know that Amanda would come home to find that gun. "There is more to it than retaliation. I will find out what."

"I have every confidence that you will."

"But if I fail, you will run off with Amanda?"

"I will save her life, yes. I lost you once, I will not lose her. I owe her poor mother that much."

"You leave me no choice but to stay here to watch you, and set guards around the house to keep you here." He did not acknowledge the lift to his heart at the idea of spending more time with Amanda.

The countess sighed. "I suppose you'll follow us around Town, too."

"Around Town?" he echoed.

"I told you I intended to take her about with me. How else to show people that I believe her innocent, to get women talking to their husbands that Lady Royce, that paragon of virtue and wisdom, would not harbor a criminal, a killer? She is not guilty and I will not see her shut away!"

"You'd take her to parties and balls?" Rex could not believe her… what? Courage? Foolhardiness? Frivolity in the face of doom?

"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.

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.

"Get up, you clunch. You have to make sure they don't do a flit. I'll go track down some of the others on the list, but I cannot let the cursed females wander about by themselves. It isn't safe, for one thing, and they might just get in a coach and not come back, for another. Lady Royce is threatening to take ship for the antipodes if necessary."

Daniel threw his pillow across the room, missing Rex by a yard and hitting the dog, who turned tail and ran, with the tarts Rex had brought his cousin to tempt him from bed. "You do not know a thing about women, do you? Just bribe one of the maids to tell you if they pack. You and that Dodd bloke are already blackmailing each other, so have him notify you if they take a trunk with them. They might say they're donating old clothes to the poor house, but don't believe 'em."

"How do you know so much?"

"I have a sister, don't you know."

"She tried to run off?" Rex knew Daniel's sister was supposed to have her come-out next year, but she was still a child in his mind.

"No, but one of her friends tried to elope when I first came home. Her father asked my help. We caught up with the chit, of course, which seems to have been the would-be groom's plan from the start, because he did not hide his route nor hurry his horses. Seems he wanted to be rich, not married. The girl's father paid him off to keep quiet. Then I beat the stuffing out of him."

"This is different. It's a legal matter. In addition to speaking of booking passage to foreign regions, her ladyship wants to put Amanda on exhibit first. Taking her to parties and teas, to show the ton that she, the countess, is not concerned. She could have her friends or servants gather clothes and such for a journey. So we shall have to keep watch."