Karen Robards - Amanda Rose

The memory of what they had done, of her own wanton response, warmed her cheeks. He had treated her like something he owned, as if she had been bought and paid for, and she had reveled in it. How would she face him again without blushing? And then it came to her that she wouldn’t, couldn’t. Because she had refused his proposal of marriage, he had made her his mistress with a vengeance. But Amanda knew she couldn’t live with either alternative-without love.

He had said many things in the heat of passion, but the word “love” had never passed his lips. And with good reason: he didn’t love her. She doubted that he was capable of loving a woman. Oh, he wanted her; he had made that abundantly plain. But she needed more, much more. She needed to own him as he owned her, body and soul-and heart.

There was one other choice left to her. She could, as she had threatened earlier, leave him. Then she had been speaking in anger, and she doubted that, if he had persisted in his arguments, she would have acted on her threat. But now much more than anger was involved. Vividly she remembered that night in the cave, the first night he had kissed her, when he had warned her not to fall in love with him, warned her that he would break her heart. Well, she hadn’t listened-and he hadn’t lied. She had fallen in love with him as passionately as it was possible for a woman to love a man, and her heart felt as though it lay shattered in tiny, jagged shards inside her chest. She loved him-but he wanted only her body. That was the truth, however painful she might find it. She had to get away from him if she was ever to have a hope of repairing her fractured heart.

But where could she go? If she stayed in New Orleans, he would search for her, at least while his passion raged at its present white-hot intensity. Yes, she would have to leave New Orleans, but she was without funds or friends. Suddenly Mother Superior’s kindly old face appeared in her mind’s eye. If she returned to the convent, the sisters would take her in, she knew. The calm serenity of her days there beckoned to her. She needed peace now, whereas before she had craved adventure. Well, she had had her adventure, and it had been far more pain than pleasure. Suddenly she realized the answer to all her problems: she would return to the convent and, in time, perhaps take her vows. A life without pain or worry seemed infinitely appealing.

How would she get there? Amanda thought for a moment, and then the solution appeared. Zeke was leaving tomorrow-today-for England. If he would take her with him and deposit her at Lands End…

But first she had to get away from Matt. Her head was tucked cozily beneath his chin so that she couldn’t see his face, but his deep, even breathing indicated he was still asleep. Even as she listened, a shallow snore confirmed her supposition. All she had to do was get out of the bed without waking him, dress, fling some clothes into a bag, and leave. But she had to hurry. If she knew aught about ships Zeke’s would sail at dawn.

It was a beautiful day, bright and sunny, the antithesis of Amanda’s mood. The Eloise had been at sea for ten days; Amanda stood at the rail, staring glumly at the sparkling blue waves as they rolled and curled as far as the eye could see. She had achieved her goal: she had left Matt and was returning now to the convent. But she was miserable. And beginning to wonder if leaving Matt hadn’t been a dreadful mistake.

Zeke had tried to talk her out of it. He had almost refused to take her with him, but at the end desperation had sent two big tears coursing down her cheeks, and, like his brother, Zeke was not proof against feminine tears. So he had allowed her on board, and the Eloise had sailed with the dawn. Since then, Zeke had grown progressively gloomier. He seemed to feel, like Amanda, that he had made a dreadful mistake.

To make matters worse, Amanda had been suffering from seasickness for almost the last week. Which was ridiculous, as the sea was as smooth as glass. But she was nauseated much of the time, unable to eat the shipboard fare. Zeke, becoming aware of her distress, had special dishes made up for her to tempt her appetite, but they suffered the same dismal fate as everything else she ate. Amanda supposed that her stomach must be reacting to her inner distress. It seemed that her whole body was rebelling against leaving Matt.

“ Amanda. ” Zeke was coming down the stairs from the quarterdeck. Amanda turned to smile at him, unaware that she was so pale that she looked almost ghostly, and that her eyes were made even larger by the dark smudges beneath them. In the simple lavender-striped muslin day dress she wore, she looked almost fragile, her waist made tiny by the lavender sash, the dropped neckline revealing the delicate bones in her shoulders.

“You look ghastly,” he said bluntly, crossing to stand beside her and looking down at her with concern. Amanda made a face at him.

“Thank you. You do know how to charm a lady.”

He responded with a wry smile, reminding her so much of Matt that she felt a pang. She averted her eyes from his narrow face to stare again at the sea.

“Benson, the cook, tells me that you didn’t eat anything again this morning.”

“What is the use? You know as well as I that whatever I eat will come right back up again. Besides, I wasn’t hungry.”

“If you don’t eat, you’ll make yourself ill.”

“I’m ill now.” That indisputable truth silenced him momentarily. Amanda knew he was genuinely concerned about her, and she appreciated it, but she was so miserable that she didn’t want to talk about it. The state of her stomach was an annoyance, but it was not the worst of her distress. Her damaged heart was that.

“Amanda.” Zeke’s normally confident voice was oddly hesitant. It arrested Amanda’s attention, and she turned to look at him, her brows lifted questioningly. She had not bothered to dress her hair that morning, had only run a brush through the thick waves and secured them back from her face with a lavender ribbon. The simple style made her look even younger than she was, and Zeke’s frown deepened.

“Yes?” she said when it appeared that he wasn’t going to say anything more. His eyes slid from her face to the sea, and he looked distinctly uncomfortable. Amanda’s puzzlement grew.

“Amanda, forgive me for asking this, but… how long has it been since you’ve had your monthly time?” His face was scarlet as he put the question, and his eyes remained firmly fixed on the sea. Amanda blushed, too. A gentleman did not ask such a thing. Indeed, Amanda, like most of her sex, liked to think that men had almost no knowledge of a woman’s bodily functions.

“I don’t think that is your concern,” she began stiffly. He turned to look at her, his expression intent, although the embarrassed color remained in his face.

“Do think about it, Amanda,” he said softly, looking grave. It had been a while, she remembered. Not since before Matt had had her dragooned aboard the Clorimunda …

“Oh, no,” she whispered, appalled.

“My God,” Zeke groaned, the color fading from his face. Apparently her horror-stricken voice was all the answer he needed. “I knew I should never have brought you with me. Matt will have my head on a platter when he finds out about this. You’re carrying his child, and I’m taking you halfway around the world.”

“It’s nothing to do with him.” Amanda raised her chin defiantly. Now was not the time to dwell on what she had discovered, to think what she would do now that she knew she was expecting a child. Under the circumstances, she could not even be sure that the convent would take her in. An unmarried girl who was with child-it was the ultimate in disgrace.