It was immensely gratifying that he was asking for a decision from her. Just weeks ago she wouldn’t have been consulted, but told what had been decided for her after the fact. Of course, there was nothing to decide. She wasn’t about to leave London while Warren was still in it.
“I’ll stay here, if it’s no trouble,” she said.
“What trouble?” Georgina put in. “You and your magic touch are nothing but a help to me. Why, even Artie and Henri jump to do your bidding, while I have to browbeat them to do mine. I’d keep you here until you marry if your mother wouldn’t object, but of course she would.”
“So it’s settled, then?” James asked between them.
“Not quite,” Georgina said. “If you stay, Amy, I insist you start receiving your callers again. Your uncle won’t mind the commotion. In fact, I rather think he’ll enjoy intimidating all your beaux.” And she grinned. “Practice, you know, for Jacqueline. But you do agree you can’t continue to hide from all those conquests you made at your come-out, not for several more weeks?”
Amy glanced at Warren before she answered. One word from him, even an expressive look, and she’d come up with a reason why she’d like to stay hidden a bit more. But he deliberately turned away, telling her he wasn’t the least bit interested in her answer.
“Yes, I suppose I will,” she finally said.
But she’d stared at Warren too long. When she turned away, it was to catch Jeremy’s all-too-discerning eyes on her, and that wretched scamp blurted out, “Good God, not him!”
Her blush gave truth to his accusation, whether she chose to deny it or not. But fortunately, no one saw the color ride up her cheeks except Jeremy, since he’d gained everyone’s attention, as well as the same general question coming at him now from different directions.
“Not who?” This was from his father. “What the devil are you going on about, young’un?”
The look Amy gave Jeremy promised the most dire retribution if he revealed her secret. Of course, that wouldn’t have kept his mouth shut if they weren’t such good friends. But they were, and so he was compelled to correct his mistake—for the moment.
“Sorry,” Jeremy said, and even managed a sheepish look. “Afraid my mind was wandering. I happened to recall that Percy was contemplating courting the dear girl.”
“Percy? As in Percival Alden?” James wanted clarification, and at Jeremy’s nod, he added, “Over his dead body.”
It was said without heat, merely as a statement of fact. Jeremy grinned, not bothering to mention that he and Derek had already warned Percy of that very likelihood.
“Figured you’d see it that way,” was all Jeremy told his father.
But across the table, Amy groaned inwardly. If her uncle reacted like this to harmless Percy, she shuddered to think of his response to Warren’s being her choice. She stole a quick glance at Warren to find those green eyes suddenly glittering furiously at James. She drew in a gasp, incredulous with a thought that hadn’t occurred to her, but certainly should have. Considering James and Warren’s animosity, if James told him to stay away from Amy, might not Warren react by doing the opposite? If for no other reason than to infuriate his despised brother-in-law?
She tested the theory quite mischievously by saying, “It looks like you can relax. Warren. My uncle will never let me have you.”
No one took her seriously, of course, and the remark brought quite a few chuckles, even from James. Jeremy wasn’t amused, however, now knowing what he did, and neither was Warren, by the look of him. That little scar was ticking; the hand above the table had balled into a fist. She knew the signs by now and held her breath, waiting to see whether he would turn her teasing against her or go along with it.
“I’m devastated, of course.”
Warren was not a dissimulator by any means. He said it too coldly, which amused James even more, but had his sister frowning at him curiously.
“Be nice, Warren,” Georgina scolded gently. “She was only joking.”
He merely smiled tightly, which made Georgina sigh and move the conversation along in another direction.
The meal broke up shortly thereafter. Not surprisingly, Amy and Warren lingered so they’d be the last to leave the dining room. But so did Jeremy.
However, he took one look at the American and said, “Well, I can see I’ll have to wait.”
The very second he was out the door, Warren said to Amy, “Don’t do that again.”
She cringed at the fury underlying his quiet tone. “You’re still mad about that damn promise you think I reneged on, aren’t you? But you wouldn’t have been happy if you’d got what you wanted, you know.”
“On the contrary, I would have been ecstatic.”
“Then stay away a few days and see if you don’t miss me,” she suggested.
“I won’t.”
“You will. I grow on people, you see. I make them smile when they’ve got nothing to smile about. They like having me around. But for you it’ll be much worse, because you know I want you. And I’m going to love the hell out of you—eventually. You know that, too. And the day is going to come when you can’t bear to be parted from me—day or night.”
“The fantasies of a child,” he said, but he gritted his words out. She was getting to him—again.
“Stubborn,” she said, shaking her head at him. “But it’s time you got lucky, Warren Anderson, so it’s fortunate for you that I inherited my father’s instincts, and that I can be even more stubborn than you.”
“I do not consider that fortunate.”
“You will,” she promised.
Chapter 21
The second the door had closed on the last Anderson, Amy rushed up the stairs to her room with the hope that she could avoid Jeremy, at least until tomorrow, when she could be better prepared for the expected lecture. But the scamp outfoxed her. He was waiting in the hall, arms crossed, casually leaning against the door to her room.
She could, of course, turn around and rejoin her aunt and uncle, then follow them up to bed and hope Jeremy, able to hear them coming, would abandon his post. The problem with that was, the importance of the issue might lead her cousin to follow her back downstairs now and discuss it no matter who was present. He was at least making an effort to keep the matter private—for the time being.
But Amy would still have liked a bit more time, so as she reached around him to open her door, she tried. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“Too bad,” was all he replied as he followed her into her room.
The trouble with Jeremy, though it was actually a good quality—just not right now—was, despite his carefree nature, he could be as serious as the rest of the family when warranted. From the look of him, he definitely felt this was one of those times.
“Tell me I drew the wrong conclusion.” He attacked the moment the door had shut behind him. “Go on, I bloody well dare you.”
Amy plopped down on the edge of her bed to face him. “We are going to keep this quiet, aren’t we?” she asked in reference to his tone, not to the subject, though both were related at the moment.
“That depends.”
She didn’t like the sound of that. “On what?”
“On how well I can read your promise signed in blood.”
If he could say that, all wasn’t lost. She grinned at him. “Try again.”
He started pacing, which put a big dent in her moment of confidence. “You’re going to have to be reasonable, Amy. You can’t have him.”
“Yes, I can, but go ahead and tell me why you think I can’t.”
“He’s the worst of them all.”
“I know that.”
“He’s got a temper that defies reason.”
“I know that, too—firsthand.”
“He’ll never get along with the family.”
“That’s a possibility.”
“My father hates his guts.”
She rolled her eyes. “I think the whole world knows that by now.”
/>
“The Yank would have hung him, you know. He actually would have hung him.”
“Now, there I’d like to differ. Warren loves George too much for it to have come to that.”
“She wasn’t exactly singing his praises at the time,” he reminded her.
“She didn’t have to. She was carrying his baby, which speaks for itself.”
He finally stopped to face her, his expression too serious by half. “Why, Amy? Just tell me that. He’s the most unlikable fellow I’ve ever met. So why in the bloody hell did you have to choose him?”
“I didn’t—exactly.”
“How’s that?”
“My feelings did,” she tried to explain. “My reaction to him every time he’s near.”
“Hell’s bells, you’d better not tell me this is all about lust.”
“Blister it, lower your voice,” she hissed. “And some of it is lust, I’m sure. I certainly hope I desire the man I intend to marry. Why, you’d be lecturing me if I didn’t, now wouldn’t you?”
He wouldn’t address that, since it was unrelated as far as he was concerned. “You said some of it is lust? Let’s hear the rest of it.”
“I want to make him smile again. I want to make him happy. I want to heal his wounds.”
“So give him a bloody book of jokes.”
Her eyes narrowed sharply on him. “If you’re going to be sarcastic—”
“That was sincere advice, I’ll have you know,” he insisted indignantly.
Her look was skeptical, but she gave him the benefit of the doubt. “These needs are real, Jeremy, and quite compulsory. They won’t be satisfied with something temporary. And the passion he arouses in me isn’t going to go away either. When he kisses me—”
“I don’t want to hear this.”
“Blister it, give me some credit. D’you think I would have picked Warren Anderson if I’d had some choice in the matter? He’s everything you said he is and more. But I can’t help what he makes me feel.”
“You can,” he staunchly insisted. “You can simply ignore it.”
“You’re telling me that? A man who leaves the house every night just to take his pants off?”
A bright splash of color rode up his cheeks and he groaned. “Why is it I’m the only one who ever hears how bloody blunt you can be?”
She was finally able to smile at him. “Not anymore. Warren’s found out firsthand and he doesn’t like it either. But too bad for both of you.”
He gave her an exasperated look. “And what’s he have to say about all this?”
“He won’t have me.”
“Well, thank God.”
“But he wants me.”
“’Course he does. He’d have to be half dead not to, and he ain’t that. But what have you got once the lust is gone? Nothing. At least he seems to know that.”
“So you’re saying you don’t think I can make him love me?” she asked a bit stiffly.
“That cold fish? I’m sorry, Amy, but it just won’t happen. Accept that now and save yourself some heartache.”
She shook her head at him. “Then I guess it’s lucky for me that I’ve got enough faith for the two of us.”
“It’ll be lucky for you if m’father don’t kill him when he hears about this.”
She crooked a brow at her cousin, but her tone turned downright menacing. “Are you going to tell him?”
“Now don’t eat me,” he protested. “It’d be for your own good.”
“You let me worry about my good, and while you’re at it, remember that I trusted you with my confidences, and I wouldn’t like it one little bit if you betrayed me.”
“Bloody hell.” He sighed.
“You might also remember our wager, Jeremy, and get ready for a month of abstinence.”
He stiffened at the reminder. “And you’d hold me to it, wouldn’t you?”
“No doubt about it.”
“Well, this little chitchat certainly accomplished wonders,” he said disagreeably.
“Don’t look so woebegone. You’ll like Warren once I change him.”
“Where did you find a magic wand?”
Across the hall, James crossed his room to lay Georgina on their bed. “You won’t be doing this again,” he warned as he helped her strip down to her chemise. “It was too tiring for you.”
“Nonsense. Being carried from room to room? It was probably too tiring for you.”
He stood back, one brow arching. “Are we attacking my virility?”
“God forbid. I’m not ready for you to prove how strong and inexhaustible you can be, James Malory—but I’ll let you know the moment I am.”
He gave her a brief kiss for that promise, then moved off to put out the lamps her maid had left burning. She followed him around the room with her eyes, a pleasant habit she’d gotten into ever since she’d been his cabin boy on the Maiden Anne.
She waited until he returned to the bed with her night robe to remark, “When Clinton and the others leave, Warren is going to be left alone at the Albany.”
“So?”
“So we have a big house here, James.”
“Don’t even think about it, George.”
She ignored the warning tone. “Sorry, but I have been thinking about it. I’m his sister. There’s no good reason why he can’t stay with us.”
“On the contrary. One perfectly good reason that comes to mind is we’d bloody well kill each other.”
“I’d like to think you have a little more forbearance than that.”
“Indeed I do. It’s that Philistine you’re related to who hasn’t got any.”
“He’s improving.”
“Is he? Then what’s he doing at Knighton’s Hall taking lessons in the ring?”
She frowned. “He isn’t.”
“Beg to differ. Seen him with my own eyes.”
“You don’t have to sound so blasted pleased about it. It could be mere exercise.”
“Try again, George.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “So it’s nothing to worry about.”
“Do I look worried?”
“Exactly. I’ve seen you fight. Warren doesn’t stand a chance, even with lessons. He ought to have figured that out by now.”
“Ah, but Tony intends to teach him.”
“Whatever for?”
“Because it amuses him to do so.”
“Does it indeed?” she nearly growled. “Well, it shouldn’t amaze me that that brother of yours has yet to do a single thing to endear himself to me.”
“He’s not doing it for you or your brother, m’dear. He’s doing it for me.”
“I’d already gathered that much.”
“And I appreciate it.”
“You would,” she groused.
James chuckled and lay down to draw her into his arms. “Come now, you’re not going to suggest I turn the other cheek if he starts something, are you?”
“No, but I shall hope you will practice restraint when or if he does.”
“You can hope, m’dear.”
“Now, James, you wouldn’t actually hurt my brother, would you?”
“Depends on how you define ‘hurt.’”
“Very well, I can see I’m going to have to speak to him on this subject, since you aren’t going to be reasonable.”
“It won’t do you a bit of good,” he predicted. “He’s not going to be satisfied until he has another go at me. Principle, you know.”
“Pride, you mean, and I really hate this. I don’t see why you two can’t get along.”
“I’ve been exceptionally gentle with him.”
She sighed. “I know you have, and I am infinitely grateful, but even your ‘gentle’ is too much for Warren.”
“If you’d like me to refrain from speaking to him a’tall, I’m sure I could manage it.”
“No, it’s Warren’s problem,” she said dolefully. “Much as I’d like to fix it, I don’t suppose I can—and how did we get so off the subject? I’d still li
ke to offer Warren our hospitality.”
“Absolutely not.”
“But you heard it mentioned tonight that he’s going to look for something permanent that they can all use when they’re in London, so it wouldn’t be for very long.”
“No.”
“Then I’ll just have to move to the Albany to keep him company.”
“Now, George—”
“I mean it, James.”
He gave in abruptly. “Very well, invite him. But he’ll refuse, you know. He won’t want to spend any more time with me than I do with him.”
She grinned and snuggled closer. “While I’m getting concessions, why don’t you help me figure out the perfect woman to tame my hot-tempered brother? He doesn’t want to marry, but the right woman could—”
“Forget it, George, and I do mean forget it. I wouldn’t wish him on my worst enemy.”
“I honestly think marriage could change him for the better, James.”
“Not bloody likely.”
“But—”
“Could you contemplate living with him for the rest of your life?”
“Well, no, not the way he is now, but—James, he’s drowning in unhappiness.”
“So let him drown. It couldn’t happen to a more deserving fellow.”
“I mean to help him,” she said stubbornly.
“If you can be that cruel to some poor, unsuspecting woman, suit yourself.”
“That’s not funny, James Malory.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
Chapter 22
“What the deuce are you doing here?” Anthony asked in surprise as he came up behind James on the fringes of the ballroom floor.
“I might ask you the same thing.”
Anthony made a disgusted face. “My little love has a fondness for dancing, wouldn’t you know. Don’t know how she does it, but she drags me to one of these things every so often. What’s your excuse?”
“Amy,” James said in answer, nodding toward the eggshell-blue ball gown that just twirled past them. “The little minx decided at the last minute that she’d like to attend this ball, and there was no talking her out of it.”
“And with Eddie boy and Charlotte out of town, yours truly got stuck with chaperoning? And all on your lonesome, too. George not up to it yet?”