sweetness, the loving acceptance that Amanda would shower on her? He glanced at the woman he’d married and couldn’t believe that he hadn’t previously noticed her café au lait complexion and large wistful black eyes. Heart-stopping eyes. Cut it out, man, he admonished himself.
Amanda went on to the kitchen, through the long hallway and past the dining room, wondering why not having a cat around had pleased him so much. He didn’t want them to get too close; she was sure of that. But when he had needed her, she’d had a glimpse of the man without the veneer, without the antiwoman armor that he wore either naturally or for her benefit, she wasn’t sure which. A minute earlier, he’d silently told her that she was in some way special. He confused her. She sensed that Luke was different, more open. When she met him at her wedding, she knew at once that he was an easier, gentler man than his brother. A man with Marcus’ aura of danger but without his anger.
Luke looked around the living room, attempting to glean something of Amanda’s personality, while his brother paced the floor. Her taste in art appealed to him, because he, too, loved the paintings of John Biggers, Elizabeth Catlett and Jacob Lawrence, artists who dug deep into the black soul. Realizing that Marcus hadn’t placed anything of his own in the room because he’d probably decided that the arrangement was temporary and didn’t want to forget that, Luke faced him.
“I’ve got to talk to you.” He could see that Marcus wasn’t ready to give up the pain he felt because of his circumstances, that he found that pain enjoyable, like a balm for his wounded pride or a nice safe place to put his worries.
“It’s a free country,” Marcus told his brother.
“Lighten up, will you, Marcus? Don’t you realize that she’s doing everything she can to make life as pleasant as possible for the two of you? What do you think having to ask you to marry her in these circumstances and paying you to do it has done to her pride? You’re too old for this stubbornness. Can’t you see that you’ve gotten so used to having problems—pretty awful ones, I grant you—that you’ve closed your eyes to the truth. You have struck gold, man, but you don’t even recognize relief when you have it.” He moved to put an arm around his brother’s shoulder, but Marcus stepped away.
“You’re annoyed, but you’ll think about what I’ve said, because you’re a man of conscience and honor. You’ve been reliving Helena’s treachery and betrayal long enough.”
Luke didn’t wait for a reaction. He had already decided that he wanted to talk with Amanda, see what she was like. Even before meeting her, he’d been impressed with her refusal to let Marcus treat their marriage as though it was an incident of no special significance and with her request that they have a dignified ceremony. And after what he’d seen of her today, first with Marcus at the hospital and then with that kitten, he felt that he pretty much understood her, and he had a hunch that she could light up Marcus’ life.
Amanda flipped on the oven light and bent to check her pork roast. When she straightened, a wave of dizziness almost sent her sprawling, but Luke must have stepped into the kitchen just in time to see it. She felt his steadying hand.
“Easy there.” He guided her to a chair and sat her down.
“Where do you keep the glasses?” But even as he asked, he’d found them and was at the sink getting a glass of cold water.
“Drink a little. It will help steady you.” Amanda sipped while Luke waited for her to empty the glass. He’s got a low, gentle voice, she thought, but you wouldn’t dare disobey it.
“Thanks. That’s the first time that’s happened. I thought that once I got over the morning sickness, that would be it for the day.” She didn’t mean it as a complaint, just an observation.
“When are you expecting the baby, Amanda?”
Her lashes swept up quickly. Marcus hadn’t bothered to ask. “November seventh. The doctor was certain, because there’s only been that one time.” She could see that her remark had made him curious, though he tried to appear casually interested. She was thirty-nine years old, after all; any man would wonder about that statement.
“What do you mean, ‘that one time’?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this. But there’s so much I don’t understand. I never discussed anything personal with my father and I’m an only child, so there wasn’t a brother to talk with. And Marcus hasn’t invited any intimacies between us. I feel closer to you than I do to him, but there are things that I could ask him that I don’t think I should be discussing with you.” When Luke glanced toward the kitchen door, she realized he didn’t want to offend his brother, but that he wanted to help her if he could.
“What are you talking about, Amanda?”
She laced her fingers and looked first to the ceiling and then to the floor, before settling her gaze on the refrigerator. “I thought the baby’s father cared for me like I cared for him. But it seems I was just a challenge. He’d made a bet with his buddies, and he won it. He wasn’t nice to me, Luke, although he must have known…he had to know that he was hurting me and he wouldn’t stop. I had to go to the emergency room. He had courted me persistently for six months, but after that night he never called or wrote, and I never saw him again. I had been lonely after my aunt Meredith died, and I didn’t know much about men. I have nightmares about it sometimes. Luke, isn’t there any gentleness in men? If there is, I have never experienced it, not in my father, my baby’s father, nor my coworkers. And so far, not much in my husband.”
Luke bit back an explosive expletive. “I always thought that most men are gentle with women, Amanda. Are you telling me that Marcus mistreats you? I can’t believe he’d lay a finger on you. He’s not that type of man.”
Amanda stood and began to set the table. “Of course not. I know he’s a gentleman, Luke. It’s just…well, if I do anything for him…This morning, I fixed him a good breakfast, but that made him uncomfortable, and anytime he finds himself being nice to me, he quickly withdraws. It’s like he’s trying to make me pay for something I didn’t do.” Luke rested a hand lightly on her shoulder.
“He had a hard time with Amy’s mother, but he’s softening. You can help him, and he can help you. In fact, if the two of you were ever to communicate, really communicate, you’d see that you need each other.”
His words failed to placate her. She had realized earlier that evening that she was vulnerable to Marcus, that she was attracted to him, and it frightened her. She walked to the back door, pretending to look for something on the porch, while she restrained the tears. She didn’t want Luke’s pity or anyone else’s, but her feelings about Marcus, her situation and their relationship troubled her. She stepped back inside and closed the door and, with her back to the kitchen, looked into the darkness. She spoke to him quietly, resigned. “I’m going to pay for that one night for the rest of my life.”
Luke shook his head. “You don’t have to go through with it, you know.”
“Yes I do. Anyway, I don’t have anyone now. At least I’ll have someone to love and to love me. But Marcus says that the baby’s grandfather might try and take the child from me, if he learns about it.”
Luke had heard Marcus walking toward the kitchen, but didn’t look in his direction; it wouldn’t hurt Marcus to know what his wife had experienced and what she feared.
“Who is he?”
“Pearce Lamont, Sr. He lives in Portsmouth.”
“I
