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found themselves alone for the first time in
hours. “I meant to tell you about my family,” he began.
    “Oh?”
She kept her gaze on the people still milling around the ballroom.
    “They
are, ah,” he cleared his throat, “they are something of
an inheritance. My father cared for them, and I’m afraid they
have become dependent.”
    She
turned to him, watching him closely.
    “I
can’t put them out, Manda. I couldn’t sleep at night.”
    “Your
Aunt Henry is right, my lord.”
    He
wrinkled his forehead as if trying to understand. “She is?”
    “A
good man takes care of his responsibilities.”
    It
seemed to take him a moment to catch her meaning. All at once his
face brightened with elation—and something more. James placed
his arm around her waist and drew her near.
    “Thank
you,” he said huskily.
    Amanda
was to think later that life turned on a mysterious wheel,
unpredictable and often cruel. At the instant that James and she were
feeling closer than ever before, when hope was at its highest, fate
intervened in the form of Derrick Bickford.
    The
viscount approached as the final waltz was announced. His beautiful
smile was confident and sly as he held out his hand to Amanda.
    “Come
to claim my dance,” he said. Again, his attention seemed
directed at the earl and not her.
    James
bristled. “This is the last dance of the evening, Derrick. I
hardly think it appropriate that my new wife gives it to you.”
    “Oh,
come now, Cousin, what’s the harm?”
    “The
harm, Cousin —”
    Amanda
touched her husband’s arm. “No scenes, please, James. Not
at the end of such a wonderful day. I did promise Derrick a waltz.”
    “Are
you certain?” he asked. “He’s being rude and he
knows it.”
    Derrick
shrugged his shoulders in an innocent gesture that implied he had no
idea what the earl was talking about.
    “It’s
only a dance,” she said.
    The
earl’s gaze whipped back and forth between the two of them
before he nodded curtly. “I’ll be waiting right here,”
he stated darkly.
    “I’m
sure you will,” Derrick murmured, his smug expression never
wavering. He placed his hand at Amanda’s back, almost
caressingly, and escorted her onto the dance floor.
    The
viscount was an excellent dancer, and Amanda concentrated on
following his lead rather than talking. She was aware that he watched
her, aware of his hand at her waist, and that he held her too
closely. One glance at James standing at the periphery of the
ballroom told her that he was aware of it, also.
    Derrick
interrupted her thoughts. “Are you normally this quiet, or have
you saved your silence for me?”
    “I’m
tired, I think. It’s been a long day.”
    “So
it has.”
    Something
in his voice forced her to look at him. Her stomach dropped. Derrick
was watching her, his gaze almost crude in its carnality.
    “Wouldn’t
you know,” he said, his tone heavy with meaning, “my
cousin marries the sort of woman who attracts me most.”
    She
tensed. “This is my wedding day, sir.”
    “I
thought perhaps I should put my feelings out in the open.”
    “Why?”
    He
shrugged. “Thought you might want to know.”
    Amanda’s
eyes narrowed, nervousness forgotten. “I have a feeling about you, Lord Lindley.”
    “Do
you, now?”
    “If
James had married a simian, you would want it. Your jealously is what
you have revealed, my lord.”
    The
hand at her waist tightened, only her corset keeping his fingers from
digging painfully into her side. Strangely, she had no other
indication that he was affected. His expression remained unchanged.
    “Very
sure of yourself, aren’t you, my dear?”
    “Meaning?”
    “Have
you given any thought as to why a man of my cousin’s stature
would marry the daughter of a lowly plebeian, beautiful though she
may be?”
    Every
instinct Amanda possessed told her to flee. This was not something
she wanted to hear, not now, not tonight. She cast her husband a
frightened glance. Derrick looked at the earl, also, his