The Earl's London Bride Page 11

  “If her husband is lost,” Mary said, “why does she not just look for him?”

  Amy stifled a laugh. “He died in a mill accident, sweetheart.”

  “Oh.” The girl’s legs swung back and forth, kicking Amy’s shins until she lowered a hand to stop them. “Why do big people say that someone is lost? Why can’t they just say he is dead?”

  “My, you are full of questions, aren’t you?” Jason said.

  “Will I have any brothers or sisters?”

  “I’m afraid not. Mr. and Mrs. Bradford never had children of their own.” Jason’s hand went up to smooth his mustache, then he smiled. “That’s why she wants a little girl so badly.”

  “Will she love me?”

  “How could she not?” Jason reached to tweaked Mary’s nose. “And you will love her too, Mary, I promise.”

  “A Chase promise is not given lightly,” Mary quoted solemnly.

  His jaw went slack in surprise. “What did you say?”

  “That means you always keep your promises. Amy told me.”

  “Oh.” Jason and Amy shared a smile over the girl’s head. “Well, she’s right, you know.”

  “Amy is always right.” Mary craned her neck to see out the open carriage window. “Is that the village? Ooh, pretty!”

  Amy’s gaze went to follow hers. “Much prettier than London, isn’t it? And cleaner.”

  “It smells nice, too. Every house has flowers.”

  Mary watched, rapt, as they passed several more houses and rolled to a stop before a small white cottage with a thatched roof. The coachman hadn’t finished opening the door and lowering the steps before Clarice Bradford rushed out to meet them, holding a new rag doll.

  Mary bounded down the steps and right into her outstretched arms.

  For a long moment they clung together. Then they pulled back to give each other a considered look. Clarice reached trembling fingers to touch Mary’s bright curls.

  She looked to Jason, who had followed Amy from the carriage into the cottage’s tidy garden. “Oh, she’s beautiful, my lord.”

  Mary’s head tilted up, then slowly went down as she took in the glossy blond plaited bun that sat atop Clarice’s head, her gray eyes set in a delicate-featured face, her simple tan dress, and the plain black shoes that peeked from beneath her skirts. “You’re beautiful too, Mama.”

  The gray eyes filled with grateful tears.

  “Is this doll for me?” Mary asked.

  “Just for you. I sat up all night making it.” Too excited to sleep, Amy guessed. Yesterday, when she and Jason visited to propose the arrangement, Clarice had been overcome with joy.

  “Thank you, Mama. She’s beautiful, too. I’ll name her Amy.” Mary clutched the doll close as she watched the coachman and outrider carry Kendra’s trunk into Clarice’s cottage. Her blue eyes widened. “Do I get to keep all those clothes?”

  Jason nodded. “With Lady Kendra’s compliments.”

  “And…” Moving closer, Amy pulled something from her pocket. “Lord Cainewood gave me permission to leave this with you, as a memento of our time together. I hope it will help you remember me.”

  The engraved silver comb sparkled in the sunshine as Mary took it, staring at it as though it were one of King Charles’s crown jewels. “Oh, my lady—I mean, Amy! I will ’member you always.”

  Amy lifted her up, blinking back tears as Mary’s little arms wound around her neck. She hugged her back fiercely.

  When Amy let go, Jason knelt down in the grass before Mary. “Will you be all right here with Clarice?”

  “Yes.” Her hand shot out and tweaked his nose. Jason rubbed his face in surprise as Mary scurried to Clarice’s side and reached up to take her hand. “I’m home now,” she said.

  Amy couldn’t help thinking: When will I be home?

  TWENTY-TWO

  KENDRA DASHED into the library and leaned against the large globe, breathless. “Amy,” she panted. “It’s Colin.” She paused for more air. “He’s here. What are we going to do?”

  Amy felt as though she’d been punched in the stomach. “Dear heavens,” she whispered. “He’s come to take me away, hasn’t he?”

  She looked up to the carved wood ceiling, her eyes tracing the intricate design while her mind wrestled with denial. “There’s nothing we can do,” she said finally, her gaze dropping to Kendra. “I’m lucky he stayed away this long—”

  “You fit in here. I don’t want you to leave.”

  Kendra’s words warmed Amy’s heart. She rose from the chair and gave Kendra a brief, sisterly hug. “Thank you for saying that; you’ll never know how much it means to me.” She sniffed back tears. “I’ve enjoyed every minute of my month here. But I have another life.”

  Kendra’s brow furrowed in concern. “A life in Paris?”

  “It’s not so bad as all that,” Amy said, remembering Colin telling her so outside the inn, after the fire. A long time ago, it seemed, but now she believed it. “As much as I love it here, this isn’t my place. I’m a Goldsmith. I need to create, to cast and polish and engrave.”

  Indeed, her fingers fairly itched to make jewelry. Her hands clenched as her gaze dropped to the red-carpeted floor and ran along the wide decorative golden stripes, down the length of the long, narrow library to the fireplace. Kendra remained silent while Amy gazed into the distant flames, struggling with her feelings of being uprooted once again.

  But she knew it was the only way. Robert must have received her letter and accepted her decision by now…and if not, well, he’d never find her in France. She’d work at Aunt Elizabeth’s shop while she prepared to open her own.

  She’d vowed that Goldsmith & Sons wouldn’t die with her, and she meant to honor that vow.

  Her trunk was gathering dust in the corner of her borrowed bedchamber, her inheritance locked inside. More than enough jewelry to stock a small shop, plus gold to pay for tools and equipment—gold that would be faithfully replaced as soon as she was able. She’d never deplete the Goldsmith fortune. Like the generations before her, she bore an obligation.

  Kendra heaved a mournful sigh. “If you leave, I’ll miss you.”

  Amy tried to smile. “Mayhap I’ll hide in here till Colin leaves. Up on the balconies—no one ever looks at the books there except me. You can sneak up food and tell him I’ve gone to Paris.”

  Kendra’s laugh echoed through the two-story library. “I vow and swear, for a minute there I thought you were serious.” She relaxed and leaned back against the brass mesh set into the bookshelf doors, then looked at Amy sharply. “You are fooling, aren’t you?”

  “Marry come up, Kendra! Have you ever heard of anything more ludicrous?”

  “Oh, fine. I’ll go find out what Colin wants.”

  “We both know what Colin wants.”

  Kendra rolled her eyes as she straightened up. “Colin doesn’t know what Colin wants. I’ll just see what kind of ideas I can plant in his head.” And with that cryptic statement, she left the room.

  Amy plopped back onto the chair. The history books in front of her had seemed fascinating a few minutes ago, but now they’d lost their appeal. She pushed them aside and laid her head on the exquisite mosaic table, the tiles cool beneath her cheek. She would miss this family, but she knew her life was destined along another path.

  You cannot have everything, she heard her father say.

  She sighed and rose to go ready herself for supper. If she hurried, perhaps she’d have time to take a walk around the grounds and think things through. But deep in her heart, she knew there was really nothing to think about.

  This was it. Her time was up. Colin wanted her gone, and this time he would see it done.

  She had no excuses left.

  TWENTY-THREE

  JASON HAD plenty of excuses.

  In the midst of shouting at his brothers, Colin didn’t spare Kendra a glance when she walked into the drawing room and settled herself next to Ford. “She’s still here? I cannot believe it!”


  “It hasn’t been that long,” Jason stated calmly.

  “More than a month! Don’t tell me she hasn’t recovered enough in more than a month.”

  “I haven’t asked her,” Jason admitted. “She does seem to be getting on fine, though.”

  Colin stormed over to where his older brother lounged against the carved stone mantel. “You never asked her?”

  “I just said so, didn’t I? We’ve been quite busy these past weeks.”

  “You’ve been busy?” Colin’s fists clenched. It hadn’t been easy to walk away from Amy the first time. Now, thanks to his lazy brother, he’d have to go through it all over again. “Too busy to take a day or two to deliver her as promised?”

  Jason only shrugged. “With the end of the harvest, Ford and I have been out collecting rents. It’s that time of year, you know.”

  “Yes, I know,” Colin said between gritted teeth. Jason’s nonchalance wasn’t improving his mood in any way. “I’ve been busy. Disposing of the harvest, looking after the livestock, overseeing the quarrying and logging operations, collecting rents, directing restoration work, working on the accursed account books—and all by myself with just Benchley for help. You have Ford and a battalion of laborers and servants, yet you hadn’t the time to—”

  “Amy’s been doing my ledgers for me,” Jason interrupted. “I reckon she’d be willing to help you out. She’s quite grateful, you know.”

  Colin made his way to one of the coral-upholstered chairs and dropped onto it, defeated. “She’s been doing your ledgers,” he said in a dead voice.

  “Oh, yes,” Kendra bragged, “and she’s much faster than Jason ever was. Why, she says she’s just about caught up.”

  “That’s a miracle,” Colin allowed. “However did this come about?” They were bound to tell him anyway, so he might as well cooperate.

  “I was showing her the portraits in the picture gallery,” Kendra explained brightly, “and the door to Jason’s study was open. He invited her in to look around, she asked what he was working on so hard, and that was that. She kept the books for her father’s shop.” Kendra smiled in a way that set Colin’s teeth on edge. “She’s so smart, Colin, you wouldn’t believe it.”

  “Oh, I’d believe it all right.” Yet one more thing to add to the shining qualities of Amy Goldsmith.

  “She became great friends with little Mary. I reckon she’s just as fond of children as you are.” Jason made his way to the chair beside Colin’s. He sat and stretched out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles. “I found a home for Mary in the village, with the widow of one of my men who was killed in the mill accident.”

  “Good.” Wonder of wonders, his brother had actually followed through with something he’d asked of him. “Thank you for taking care of that.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “Ow!”

  Colin turned to see Ford rubbing his arm and glaring at his twin, who had a carefully innocent look on her face. Ford cleared his throat. “We’ve also been discussing Amy’s fine education,” he announced in a stilted way, as though his words were rehearsed. “She’s interested in science”—Ford was forever complaining that no one in the family shared his fascination with science—“although she prefers history. She spends hours and hours in the library.”

  “She does, does she?” Colin crossed his arms and turned back to Jason. “When are you taking her to Dover? You are taking her to Dover?”

  “Of course, Colin. Whyever would you think not?”

  “She should stay here,” Kendra protested. “She’s clever and sweet and helpful and a good friend and she has no one—just one aunt—and she fits right in with the family.” Kendra paused for a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “You should marry her, Colin. We all think she’s wonderful.”

  Colin had seen it coming. “Then you can all marry her,” he suggested lightly, rising to go out the door. “I’m going to get cleaned up.”

  “Wait!” Kendra yelled after him.

  He whirled around. “You wait,” he returned fiercely. “I’m marrying Lady Priscilla Hobbs, or did that slip your mind somehow?” He turned to Ford. “You want Amy in the family? You marry her.”

  Ford’s blue eyes widened in alarm. “I’m not ready to get married! I’m only sixteen! I want to attend university!”

  Undaunted, Colin turned on Jason. “You marry her, then. You seem to enjoy having her around.”

  “I’m—I’m not attracted to her,” sputtered the unflappable Jason. “She’s—she’s a bookkeeper!”

  “Exactly.” Colin turned on his heel and headed up to his bedchamber, shaking his head.

  Sometimes his family was more trouble than they were worth. Kendra, especially.

  You should marry her, Colin.

  Hmmph! He’d get Kendra back. Tonight. He’d get her good.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  “DEFENDING THE castle?”

  Taken off guard, Amy turned to see Colin framed in the archway that led to the keep’s stairwell. He was dressed casually, in buff-colored breeches and a billowing white shirt, his hair still damp from a recent washing.

  The last time she’d seen him, he’d been mentally and physically exhausted. Now the circles were gone from under his eyes. He looked relaxed and rested, and under those breeches and that shirt…

  Well, he looked quite fit.

  She swallowed hard, her hands tightening on the iron grille set into the keep’s window. “Defending the castle?” she echoed.

  His smile reached his compelling emerald eyes. “This is where the castle guard lived, and you were watching through the window.”

  “Oh.” She blushed, feeling thick-witted for not catching the reference. What was it about him that robbed her ability to think straight? “I was just…ruminating.” She glanced out the window, struggling for some relevant comment she could make. “How could they see to guard? The windows are so narrow.”

  “The better to deter arrows in days past.” Colin moved toward her, then abruptly stopped. She thought she saw a frown flit across his tanned face. “In truth, they only lived and stored weapons in here. There used to be a level above where they took turns day and night, watching through the notches in the battlement all around.”

  Amy looked up at the sky, streaked with colors from the setting sun. She imagined the guards up there, pacing back and forth, clanking around in their armor. Colin’s words seemed to do that to her: make her imagine other places, other times.

  She stole another glance at him. His gleaming black hair was loose for a change, cut just to his shoulders, easy to manage if not fashionable. It was odd, but the color she hated on her own head looked perfect on his.

  She’d been convinced that her intense reaction to his kiss, that one time that now seemed so long ago, had been an outgrowth of her grief, a method for escape. But suddenly she knew she’d been fooling herself. It seemed each time she saw him, the pull was stronger.

  She took a step closer. “I can picture the knights up there when you talk about them.”

  “A romantic image, but they weren’t knights decked out for battle.” Colin took a step back and leaned against the wall, crossing his ankles and arms. “Just regular men, mostly. Each of the lord’s vassals—all the men granted use of his land—was obligated to spend part of his year as a member of the castle guard.”

  “I’ve been wondering what it used to be like to live here.”

  “Well, Kendra sent me to find you for supper, but I can give you my famous tour on the way down.”

  Amy’s laugh bounced around the bare stone walls and tapered off into the night as she followed him to the stair tower. She was surprised such a light, happy sound had come from her.

  “It’s hard to imagine living in anything so primitive as a keep today,” Colin’s words floated up to her, “but in the twelfth century, it would have contained the best residential lodging for the lord. In those days, others lived in the smaller towers set into the castle walls, while the rest of the people ha
d their homes constructed against the inside surfaces of the enclosure.”

  When they came out on the next floor, Amy wandered to a window where she could oversee the quadrangle. “No wonder it’s so big,” she said, imagining hundreds of people milling below.

  “The castle was like a small town, and this keep was the ultimate in luxury accommodations.” He joined her at the window, accidentally grazing her arm. At least, it seemed like an accident. “There was a poultry yard where all the animals were kept.” When he moved closer, the pit of her stomach began tingling. “Soldiers, skilled workers, servants and their families—everyone made their home within the castle walls.”

  Suddenly she felt giddy. His words weren’t going in one ear and out the other, not quite, but she was having a hard time concentrating.

  “Tell me more,” she begged.

  “The portcullis, that wooden iron-banded gate at the barbican over there, would be down all the time, not just at night like it is now. The drawbridge would be raised unless someone needed to leave or enter.”

  When Colin paused, she turned to look at him. Their eyes met, his gaze steady. “This would have been the lord’s bedchamber.”

  “Oh.” She blushed furiously and looked at her hands.

  “It would have been decorated with beautiful tapestries, and the bed would have been draped with yards and yards of fabric that could be pulled together to keep in the warmth. An enormous bed, so that on cold nights they could all get in, the whole family, and nestle together to keep warm.”

  Though Colin’s words were simply informative, his voice was full of meaning, as though…

  No, it was all her imagination. He hadn’t asked how she was, or anything else of a personal nature. She had to stop dreaming. He’d come only to fetch her for supper.

  And to take her away.

  Well, there was no sense dwelling on such a depressing subject. “Is supper waiting?” she asked.

  Colin blinked before answering, and when he did, his words were clipped. “I reckon it is. We should go.”