Seeing he wasn’t about to oblige her, she got up and went to the sideboard herself, pausing only once along the way when an overwhelming feeling of faintness made her worry she might lose her footing – yet again. That simply wouldn’t do. She slowed her pace and thankfully reached her destination without incident.
Peter watched her go, noticing the exact moment when she stopped to steady herself. What the devil had come over her? He’d known her since she was in swaddling clothes, and getting foxed in the middle of the night behind closed doors – in the company of a bachelor no less – was completely out of character for her. She was demure and innocent, his best friend’s kid sister. Yet here she was, courting trouble.
He groaned, knowing he must do something to stop her from pouring herself another glass. If her brother or, heaven forbid, her father were to happen upon them like this, Peter would surely find himself drawn and quartered.
“Amanda, stop this at once,” he urged, aiming for a note of authority.
“Or what?” she asked, her fingers already curled around the neck of the carafe.
“Or I shall have no choice but to come over there and remove the carafe from you personally.” Was that really the best he could do? Even she looked skeptical as she offered him a sly smile and proceeded to pour. That did it. She gave him no choice but to act on his threat. So he rose, and in three easy strides he was before her. “May I please have your glass?”
With a small frown she leaned sideways and looked past him. “Oh dear,” she remarked. “It appears as though one of Mama’s decorations has undone itself from the ceiling.”
He automatically turned to look, not recognizing the trap she’d set before it was too late. When he returned his attention to her, he discovered she’d already tossed back the contents of her newly filled glass.
Despite his rising frustration he had to hand it to her – she did appear to have gotten good at handling her drink. Still, he would not stand for this insanity a moment longer. She was a genteel lady of breeding after all, and this lapse in judgment on her part was really too much.
“I cannot begin to imagine what might have brought this on, Amanda. You’re acting like a child and you’d do well to stop it this instant.”
Her eyebrows snapped together and he saw something then, something in her eyes that spoke of both sadness and…something he couldn’t quite place.
“I am not a child, Peter.”
The harshness with which she spoke surprised him so much he leaned back as if she’d struck him.
“I am eighteen years of age – old enough to marry and bear children if that is what I choose to do.”
It was his turn to feel affronted. He clenched and unclenched his hands, staring silently at her before he turned away in search of his own glass. He needed that brandy. Now.
Finishing off its contents, he gave her a sideways glance. She was still looking at him as if he were the devil incarnate, but her words… Christ. As if he hadn’t noticed she was no longer the child he’d given piggyback rides to years ago or the girl he’d laughed with while skipping stones. They’d rolled down grassy hills together, tossed snowballs after each other each winter, and shared inside jokes that were different – more personal somehow – than those he’d shared with her brother.
He’d been at her coming out ball and had danced with her because after all, that was the polite thing to do. As soon as the dance was over, however, he’d found her a glass of lemonade and fled. He was not supposed to notice the woman his childhood friend had turned into or how good she felt beneath his touch as he’d guided her in a country dance. Nor was he meant to appreciate the scent of her or to let himself wonder…
But God help him he’d wondered – repeatedly – ever since that night.
Consequently, he’d stayed away until now.
He expelled a heavy breath. He could never lay a hand on her unless he planned to make her his wife, but was that something she would want?
“Amanda, I…” he began, but his words faltered with uncertainty, and instead he just stood there, staring at her.
Laying himself bare before her like this could ruin everything – his friendship with her brother as well as that between their parents. It was a tremendous risk to take when he wasn’t certain of how she’d respond, so he kept silent instead, thinking of how to proceed when she suddenly laughed.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you speechless before,” she said, pouring more brandy into her glass and taking another sip.
Her skin had grown flushed and he could tell by the slur of her words that the alcohol had begun taking effect. She wasn’t herself and rather than standing here talking, he ought to do the responsible thing and get her to bed.
Instead he said, “You’ve never spoken to me about marriage or children before.”
She chuckled. “No, I suppose not.” Heading back toward her chair, she swayed a little, regained her balance, and plopped down onto the seat. She leaned back and said, “Then again, what reason would I have to discuss such matters with you? My father will eventually see to it that I marry a respectable gentleman. You needn’t concern yourself on that score.”
Was she mocking him? He wasn’t certain, though she did sound annoyed. He was getting rather annoyed himself thinking of her in the arms of some faceless man.
“Besides,” she continued. “You are busy enough right now. I wonder which of them you will pick.”
Her comment threw him. “I beg your pardon?”
“You didn’t think I’d notice your interest in my cousins?” There was no mistaking the bitterness in her tone this time, and he leaned forward with interest. “They’re truly stunning with their blonde hair and alabaster skin. I cannot fault you for being fascinated.”
“The drink has loosened your tongue too much, Amanda,” he said, irritated she would think he gave a damn about three women who were no different than all the rest. “You speak without thinking.”
“They like you too, you know,” she added, not heeding his warning in the least. He was about to reprimand her again and suggest she retire straightaway when a sad smile claimed her lips and she whispered beneath her breath, “Though not nearly as much as I.”
Peter stood for a moment, frozen, unable to move. Hell, he could barely breathe, much less focus on his thoughts. Had he heard her right? He believed so and began moving toward her – the woman he wanted by his side forever. The same woman who’d just confessed to liking him a great deal, even though it had taken a lot of brandy for her to pluck up the courage to say so.
“Would you mind repeating that?” he asked.
Her eyes met his, focused, then she suddenly leapt from her seat, her hand clasped across her mouth as she stepped away.
“It was nothing,” she gasped from behind her fingers, her glance darting toward the door as if she were calculating her chance of escape.
She obviously hadn’t realized she’d voiced her thoughts, or perhaps she just hadn’t counted on him hearing her. Whatever the case, she wasn’t deep enough in her cups not to know that her words changed everything between them. There was no going back now.
“It certainly wasn’t nothing,” he said, following her as she edged her way along one of the bookcases until she’d backed herself into a corner.