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her brow, Amanda wondered at the teasing quality of his voice that wasn’t really like teasing at all. “I draw the line at a jug of cider,” she said, trying to imitate his tone. “If I can’t sip it from an eighteenth-century teacup then I’d rather do without.”
    “You can borrow mine anytime, Amanda,” Martha said, “but you’ve got it wrong. You’re supposed to sip cider from a sieve.”
    Amanda released a soft laugh from her tight throat. “That can’t be right, Martha.”
    “You’re both wrong.” Dane straightened in his chair as if he were going to impart a priceless gem of wisdom. “I believe the correct adage is sipping champagne from a slipper which is an old tradition for bridegrooms on their wedding day.”
    “Humph!” Martha indicated her opinion. “I can’t believe that any man would be so besotted he’d drink champagne or anything else from a shoe. You didn’t do anything so silly on your wedding day, did you?”
    His brown eyes met her blue ones in silent reminiscence and Amanda’s lips trembled with the longing to smile.
    “Certainly not,” he said without breaking the moment of shared memory. “I certainly never drank champagne from Amanda’s slipper.”
    Only because he’d spilled it halfway to his lips, Amanda remembered. And, unbidden, she remembered, too, the carefree way she’d giggled ... until he had stilled her laughter with sipping kisses and the softly suggestive observation that no amount of champagne could compete with the intoxication of loving her.
    Slowly, almost painfully, her lips curved upward to match his seemingly effortless smile.
    “Well, I’m glad to see you two smiling for a change. You’ve both been so solemn this afternoon that I was beginning to think I’d have to give you a good talking to.”
    At Martha’s words Amanda jerked free of Dane’s gaze and tried, unsuccessfully, to keep the tiny smile from fading too fast. Somewhere in her heart she heard and echoed Dane’s deep sigh.
    He stood and paced to the wall of bookshelves. Although she wasn’t watching, Amanda knew the precise moment he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and turned to face Martha. “It’s too late for lectures. Amanda and I are getting a divorce.”
    It was a cold, hard fact delivered in an impersonal tone that robbed the words of importance and left no room for argument. Exactly the way she had expected him to say it.
    Amanda stared down at her trembling hands. Exactly the way she’d secretly hoped he wouldn’t be able to say it. Reluctantly, she lifted her gaze to Martha.
    The vivacious, laughter-wrinkled face grew old as Martha struggled with Dane’s simple announcement. “Oh, no,” she said in a voice that grated with emotion. “I don’t believe it. That couldn’t happen to you and Amanda.”
    “It has already happened.” Dane walked to the rocker where Martha sat and placed his hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know why you’re surprised. You’ve been telling me for years that she’d get enough of my foolishness and leave me one of these days.”
    With a frown Martha turned to glare up at him, obviously as taken aback by his flippant words as was Amanda. “I never believed she’d do it though,” Martha snapped. “What’s wrong with you, Dane? This is not something you joke about.”
    He withdrew his hand from her shoulder. “It isn’t? All right, I’m open to suggestions. What is the proper way to discuss the subject?”
    Anger seeped through Amanda and she wanted to berate his callous attitude. But she couldn’t be sure her voice wouldn’t convey a world of regrets rather than the composure she wanted. Much better to avoid talking to him at all. “Martha?” she queried softly and waited for the green eyes to focus on her. “I know what a shock this is for you and I’m sorry there wasn’t a way to make it easier.”
    “Sorry!” Martha scoffed. She stood, placing her hands on her hips and turning an admonishing stare to Dane.