despair, Father. You will see me wed again, I promise you—though whether you will consider it a suitable match remains to be seen. But for the time being I shall strive to behave as a widow should—properly.’ She glanced at him as he strode beside her. His shifts of opinions were so unpredictable that Amanda had wearied of ever trying to understand him. ‘Tell me, Father, are you saying that you have changed your mind and would approve of me marrying someone of Mr Benedict’s station in life, after all your blusterings about suitability, titles and how important it is for the man to have the right connections?’
‘Aye, lass, I am that—though ‘tis not easy for a man like me to make a climb down. These past months married to Caroline have taught me what marriage is all about, and it’s about being happy with the right one. You are my darling girl and I want only the best for you, you know that. When you meet the right man you will know it, and, no matter what his station in life, accept him as a man, if not your peer.’
Amanda’s heart warmed to him and with a laugh and a lightening of her spirits, she linked her arm through his and hugged it close. ‘Now why would I be wanting a husband when I have you, Father? Have I not told you time and time again that you are the only man in my life and I want no other—besides, there is no other who could measure up to you.’
With an acute sense of pride, Henry beamed at her and patted her hand. She was the light of his life—a bonny lass, wonderful to listen to, wonderful in her laughter that made people want to look at her and to smile and want to know her better. She was alive with hope and a fervent belief that life was for living, for love, marriage and children. One day he knew all that would be hers.
Amanda kept out of Kit’s way as best she could after that incident on the moors, but, try as she might, she could not get him out of her mind. She wanted him more than she had ever wanted a man before, a feeling so unexpected given the way she strove to avoid all contact between them.
At a weekend house party in March, when Amanda joined her father and Caroline and the thirty assembled guests in the long library for drinks before dinner, where a string quartet was playing Bach, she was surprised to find another visitor, one who immediately set her emotions tumbling.
When she first saw Kit standing alone by the hearth, looking at the gathering with amused indolence—tall, slender hipped and broad shouldered and so sickeningly attractive and sure of himself, he looked so much a part of some of the landed gentry present that he could be mistaken for one of them.
His manner bore an odd sense of boldness. He appeared to set himself apart from everyone in the room, and yet by his mere presence dominated the scene around him. Anger and resentment welled inside her at his audacity to appear among her father’s friends. Even though she knew her father would have invited him, he could have refused.
In an attempt to regain some of her composure that had dropped a notch on seeing Kit, exhaling a slow, steadying breath and taking a glass of wine from a salver being carried by a servant, she moved farther into the room, greeting people on her way. Resplendent in a beaded deep-rose satin gown and every inch the competent hostess, Caroline found her way to her side. Her eyes were alight with pleasure at the way the party was progressing.
‘Everything seems to be going well, don’t you think?’ she remarked quietly.
‘You’ve surpassed yourself, Caroline.’
‘With your help.’
‘I made a few suggestions, that is all.’ Amanda smiled. ‘And you look lovely, Caroline—the perfect hostess. Father must be feeling immensely proud of you tonight.’
Caroline returned her smile fondly. ‘Thank you, dear, and I must compliment you on your gown. That colour is so becoming on you,’ she said, looking with admiration at her stepdaughter’s cream watered-silk gown, its sheath-like style so in vogue. The front fitted perfectly into the waist and over the bodice, the back drawn back over a crinolette in a series of short flounces cascading down to the hem. The gown shimmered in the light and brought out the rich, deep tones in Amanda’s hair.
‘I am so glad you’ve decided to come out of mourning at last—and I know Henry is relieved. You’re far too young to be wearing such drab colours. Now come and circulate.’ Caroline took Amanda by the arm as her eyes did a quick scan of the room, coming to rest on Kit. ‘Although I think Kit could do with some company. He isn’t acquainted with many of the guests. Why don’t you go and have a word with him?’
Amanda held back, regarding Kit with a sceptical frown. ‘Must I? I really don’t know why he was invited.’
‘Why on earth shouldn’t he be? Everyone is intrigued by Henry’s new horse trainer, so your father thought it only right that he attend tonight. He is much talked about in the area—far more than anyone else. The way he keeps himself to himself, never joining the hunt or partaking of any of the social events in the neighbourhood. Yes, he is a man of great mystery is our Mr Benedict.’
‘Considering he spends all his waking hours training Father’s horses, I don’t suppose he has time for anything else. I still say he should not have been invited.’
Wide eyed, Caroline looked at her for a moment. What on earth could have prompted Amanda to speak in such a fashion? It was most unlike her. Kit had truly gotten under her skin and she wondered how this unexpected animosity had come about. Amanda had developed an unfair impression. It puzzled Caroline and one way or another she was determined to get to the bottom of it. Where she was concerned she could see nothing wrong with him. When Henry had first introduced them, she had been immediately struck by his immense personal attraction. There was a warmth about him and humour in his smile, and yet his mouth was hard and firm with a twist to his lips that said he was not a man to be trifled with.
‘Kit comports himself with as much dignity and propriety as anyone present.’ Caroline placed her head close to Amanda, speaking softly. ‘I must say that he cuts a dashing figure and is by far the most handsome man here. There is more than one unattached young lady just dying to make his acquaintance.’
‘Then perhaps you should introduce them and spare me the trouble of having to converse with him,’ Amanda suggested ungraciously, looking around and seeing the reaction of several young girls practically melting into the floor as they gazed at him. No doubt he was accustomed to this kind of feminine reaction, she thought crossly.
Caroline glanced at Amanda, puzzled as to her apparent dislike of Kit when Henry thought the sun rose and set with him, and she was utterly charmed by him. ‘I know you don’t have a very high opinion of Kit, Amanda—and heaven knows why—but I do wish you would try to get on with him—for Henry’s sake, if nothing else.’
‘I have no opinion of him one way or another, Caroline. It’s just that I hardly know him and he failed to make a favourable impression on me when we first met.’ When Caroline shot her a pleading look, she smiled and nodded in acquiescence. ‘Oh, very well. To please you I’ll go and talk to him.’
Kit was eyeing the company with a great deal of disdain. It was peculiar indeed that here, after all these years of being apart from it, surrounded by the society into which he had been born, the society he now eschewed, it was one of the few places he least wanted to be.
He had seen Amanda the instant she entered the room. Sparkling and gleaming beneath the crystal chandelier, she looked like a shimmering butterfly, bright and beguiling, the exposed flesh of her arms and shoulders soft and inviting. The effect of seeing her, the visceral tug and the sense of possessiveness surprised him. He watched her pause in the doorway, her large green eyes scanning the room before moving farther in, dispensing smiles
