His Californian Countess (14 page)

“I can almost imagine the context.” Jamie looked so put out Amber couldn’t hold in her laughter any longer. And, if she wasn’t mistaken in the low light, she thought he actually blushed. She laughed harder. “Did she use it correctly?” she managed at last.

And then he smiled. “I’m afraid she did. I’m glad I could amuse you. I’ve missed the sound of your laughter these last few weeks.”

Unwilling to touch that statement, Amber stuck to Meara as a safe subject. “Your child is quite intelligent. So tell me about the rings you’d chosen.”

“Something to rival the family set that sits in a vault back at Adair. I wanted you to have my rings now—besides that, I didn’t want you to wear the family rings. Iris wore those. I want the only reminder of that part of my life to be Meara. It is only because of her that I cannot regret my marriage.”

“That is as it should be.” She stroked the rings. “These are lovely, Jamie.”

He smiled, staring at her. “You are lovely, Pixie. As for
the rings, the only part I had in choosing these is that I asked to see only those rings made of platinum. I thought that suited you. Then Meara decreed that you wouldn’t like a ring that was all about show but rather that you’d want one about sentiment. Out of the mouth of babes, correct? As soon as she said it, I knew she had the right of it. I don’t understand how she knew you so quickly.”

“You have a wise daughter.”

He cleared his throat again. “The…uh…the amethysts and sapphires—”

“Are the color of your eyes and hers?” she guessed. Jamie nodded. “She is very wise indeed. As are you for having listened to her. I love them.”

Still holding her hand, he traced the ring with his index finger. She’d have sworn the cool feel of the platinum warmed under his touch. “If the baby has your brown eyes, I’ll have some replaced with brown diamonds. I saw some today. They’re quite unusual.”

“Perhaps. Will we still be here when the baby is born? I like Dr. Campbell and would be happy in his care.”

Jamie frowned in thought. “I hadn’t thought that far, but I don’t see why we cannot remain if that is what you wish.”

“Or should we return to New York or even to Adair? You will eventually need to, won’t you?”

“Again, I hadn’t decided.” He squeezed her hand a bit. “I thought we would make that determination together. I hate to take you away from your country. I know how patriotic Americans are. Besides which, I don’t particularly want to go back to Ireland. There are so few good memories waiting for me at Adair. I would never return if I didn’t have a duty to Adair’s people.”

“Who looks after the estate now?”

“After firing the steward Oswald had employed, I hired a man I could trust. My man of business oversees him. I trust both men completely. The local vicar also reports that things are much better for the people now that the land is thriving again. I had thought to ask Alex to stand in my stead there, but I fear he’d rather shoot me than do me any service.”

Amber hated that Mimm had involved her in keeping the secret of Alexander’s presence in New York from Jamie. He was so dispirited about his estrangement from his cousin that she almost told him. But Mimm seemed so canny. Could she be wrong about Alexander? Or was she right? After all, she had apparently known the man since childhood. Could Jamie be mistaken about his cousin?

“Perhaps he’s forgiven you and you should write him. He could be waiting to hear from you,” she said, hoping to encourage him.

“I wouldn’t think so. He hasn’t touched the trust fund I set up for him.”

Amber drew hope from that fact. Mimm could very well be wrong about his cousin Alexander. But then again, if he were in league with his father it would break Jamie’s heart. It was all so confusing and so delicate a subject. Wouldn’t Alexander have used the money Jamie set aside for him if he were as mercenary and dishonest as his father? There was no way to know, she supposed. “Let’s not talk of such depressing subjects,” she suggested. “Tonight is for celebration.”

Jamie’s smile was only a bit sad. “Yes. Let’s not. We have much happier subjects to discuss. Have you given
a thought to names for our addition? I warn you, I’d want our son to have his own name and be his own person. I don’t want to name a son after me.”

“What a thing to say! That isn’t at all like you. Your mother gave her life giving you yours. And as she named you, I rather like your name.”

“Oh, it isn’t the name at all. I rather like it myself. I gladly kept it to honor my mother and my father’s love of her.”

“Is this to do with something else your poisonous uncle drummed into your head?”

He winced. “He tried to force me to change my name legally to James, but I stood up to him and refused because I was determined to honor the woman my father spoke so highly of. I paid the price daily for that defiance.” He smiled sadly for a second, then his eyes trained on her and his lips turned up in a genuinely happy grin. “As my new wife seems so happy with the name, I’m more than glad to have been so pigheaded.”

“Someday I’d like to smack that man!”

Jamie burst out laughing, then sobered as he reached out and stroked her cheek. “So fierce. And so very lovely.”

She took his hand in hers. “I’m afraid I slip out of the ladylike persona I learned while away at school a bit too often for a countess.”

“I rather like it when you do.” He leaned forward and whispered, “Especially in bed. Are you going to finish that dumpling? As I said, I find myself hungering for sustenance of another sort.”

“I think I am, as well.”

Jamie stood, and held out his hand. “Lady Adair. I believe we should retire to our room and continue this discussion in private.”

She couldn’t help but smile as she stood and walked to him. “Privacy is something that can never be overrated,” she whispered as she passed him.

“Never,” he agreed as he put a hand at the small of her back. She didn’t know how he made a gesture of gentlemanly protection feel so naughtily, deliciously dangerous.

Or so good.

Honestly, she was putty in the man’s hands. It was something she couldn’t regret. Because even if he didn’t love her, she loved him.

“L
ord Adair, it is now we go on to California Street,” Gunter called over his shoulder, as they turned onto a street with a sharp uphill rise so typical of San Francisco.

Meara bounced on the rear-facing seat of the carriage next to Mimm. Her eyes alight with mischief, she said, “This is our street so now you must close your eyes.”

Jamie nodded, grinning when Amber looked at him, with a puzzled expression on her face. “It seems only fair,” he said.

“Why is that?”

He leaned toward her. “You were my surprise one morning many days ago. Now I get to give you a surprise,” he whispered.

The words no sooner left his mouth than Jamie wanted to call them back. He prayed she would think of the way they’d shared their bodies some time before dawn and not the argument that had separated them after the sun awakened them. In the next instant, he took note of a sweet blush spreading across Amber’s face and
breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Her mind must have gone where his had.

“I seem to remember that day as a surprise for me,” she whispered, then added louder, “I must hide my eyes then, mustn’t I?” She put her head down, hiding her face in her hands, ostensibly for the sake of Meara’s game.

The brim of Amber’s black straw hat hid her face from Mimm and Meara, however. But the plum satin bow with its tails forming a lovely train down her back only partially hid her blush-pink neck from his sight. The shining white ostrich feathers that decorated the brim bounced and blew in the morning breeze, distracting Meara, who seemed to watch them with fascination. They didn’t distract him at all.

Her hat perfectly topped off the ready-made plum morning dress and matching jacket he had taken Amber out to find yesterday when she’d wired her uncle of her safe arrival and their marriage. She hunched her shoulders now and the jacket’s black-velvet collar hid the rest of her neck from his gaze.

Not to be outdone, Jamie moved the tail of the hat’s bow, and kissed the warm and luscious column of her neck. The plans he’d made to get her alone once they arrived sent a spike of need arrowing through him. He could almost see her naked in the morning light, lying among the rumpled sheets.

Mimm swatted him for his mischief and the vision disappeared. “Leave the girl be, you jackanapes. I raised you better. You know I did. Why did you have the girl hide her eyes? So you could have her at a disadvantage? Here I was thinkin’ you wanted to see her face when she sees the fine house you drew up and ordered from that builder you hired.”

“You didn’t tell me you’d designed the house,” Amber muttered behind her hands as the carriage labored up the hill.

“I hadn’t wanted you to know so you’d give your honest opinion,” he admitted. “I know you’ll never ask for changes now, and I’ll never know for sure how you truly feel.”

Her head bounced up, eyes firmly closed, and she said, “That was unfair,
my lord.
Suppose I hadn’t liked it? If I had said so, I would feel awful once I learned it was your design.”

“Uh-oh, I’m in trouble. She’s ‘my lording’ me again. It always means I’ve put a foot wrong,” he told Mimm, then turned back to Amber. “I
am
sorry, Pixie. I only want to please you and to know for certain that I have.”

She opened her eyes and stared straight into his. No worry of her seeing the house, even though it was only a few houses ahead. It was he she was interested in at that moment. She seemed to be silently telling him something and he was very much afraid he knew exactly what.

Tell me you love me. That’s all I want of you,
her gaze seemed to say. But the words wouldn’t come. His throat seemed to swell, choking off the feelings overflowing his heart. Was this love? Was she telling him she loved him?

What was the matter with him? She was
not
Iris. Not even remotely like her. She was certainly not anything like his uncle. Why couldn’t he find a way to define what was in his heart? Why couldn’t he at least use the words even if he was unsure it was what he felt?

Jamie longed to let himself off the hook by claiming his hesitation was because she withheld the words, as well. But he couldn’t hide behind that. He understood why she kept silent. He wondered when he would stop
having to pay for those hurtful accusations of his that awful morning.

Then her eyes dropped closed and his opportunity was lost, but he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t seen the longing written in her dark gaze. He also saw guilt mixed in.

Could she still think she’d somehow ruined his life by agreeing to marry him? He didn’t know how to reassure her without saying those three impossible, elusive words. He hated himself and those who’d done this to them more and more each day. But how did someone who had never even witnessed love between a man and woman recognize it in himself and his mate?

“Whoa!” Gunter called to the team and brought the carriage drifting smoothly to a stop.

“Don’t peek,” Meara ordered. “Lift her down, Da.”

“Actually I think she should see it from here,” he said, sending Mimm a silent message. He wanted this moment with Amber alone.

“No. She should see it from the street!” his little one argued.

Mimm turned and said something to Gunter, who quickly hopped down, then helped her to the ground. When the driver put his hand out to Meara, she crossed her arms and stubbornly shook her head.

“Go with Mimm,” Jamie told her.

“Come,
liebchen.
Leave
dein vater und dein mutter…
alone,” Gunter said, still offering his hand.

Meara sighed dramatically, but stood and leaped into Gunter’s arms. The older man laughed and swung her playfully to the ground. Then Meara joined Mimm, and Gunter walked to the horses and held them, looking the other way to give them the privacy he’d asked for.

“My lord,” Mimm called as they mounted the front
steps, “don’t you be forgettin’ to carry your bride over the threshold.”

The front door closed, cutting off Meara’s running list of questions about how her life would change now that she had a mother and her da had a wife.

Jamie transferred to the rear-facing seat so he could see Amber’s expression. He took her hands in his; even then in that moment of anticipation and preoccupation over her reaction he marveled at the delicacy of her hands. “You can open your eyes, Pixie.”

She did and as her eyes widened they softened, too. “Oh, it is lovely, Jamie.” She smiled. “It looks like my friend’s fancy wedding cake!”

Jamie looked up at the house, seeing it in a new light, and laughed. “I suppose it does look like a wedding cake. Perfect. That is one more thing you were cheated of with our hasty marriage. Now I’ve managed to give you one, however accidentally. And outsized!”

He’d built the clapboard house as an investment but had designed it with Meara in mind. He’d meticulously drawn the turned Italianate columns and the fretwork on the small porch as a whimsical invitation to enter. The elaborate cornices of the two-story, stacked bay windows, and the intricately carved corbels that supported the roof overhang, were meant to enhance that feeling of whimsy. Even though he’d resisted the trend toward rather wild colors by sticking entirely to white, Jamie had apparently succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. He chuckled. Apparently, he’d built his wife a two-story wedding cake. “Would you like to go in and see the inside of your new home?”

She nodded and he helped her down.

“If you didn’t know whether you’d be staying here
in San Francisco, why did you build a home here?” she asked.

“As an investment, but mostly so Meara would have a place to call her own while we’re here. I may sell it when we decide to head east again. But in the meantime, she has a home to help her feel secure. Don’t you think that was the worst part of being sent away to school? Not having a place to call your own?”

“I suppose it was. But I understood that my uncle was terrified to be left alone with a girl to steer into womanhood. Still, even though I understood, I did feel very much like a ship adrift with no port to call home.”

“Exactly. That is a feeling I never want Meara, our baby or any who follow to feel. Wherever she goes, I want her to know she’ll always have a home with us.”

She smiled up at him, and he knew all he wanted out of life was to make sure she always looked at him that way. As if he was her hero. He hoped and prayed he could live up to what he saw in her eyes.

He bent and scooped her up in his arms.

“Jamie, this is silly and those steps are rather steep.”

“We must ward off any evil spirits,” he countered. “Besides which, you are as light as a feather. You cannot weigh more than eight stone.” He carried her up the steps and through the front door with Meara, whooping and laughing, greeting them in the marble vestibule. Had his daughter not been there he’d have carried his countess straight to their room. And that second part of this bridal tradition couldn’t happen fast enough to suit him.

When he’d looked around the house earlier in the week, he’d been very pleased with the house’s interiors. Semi-circular columns with beautifully carved capitals stood like soldiers guarding the entrances and
exits of each room. There were pocket doors hidden in each doorway, but they were barely noticeable. All the ceilings were coffered and the inset spaces were decorated with ornate papers. The walls were also either papered, stenciled or richly paneled. The floors were of inlaid hardwoods covered with thick woven rugs from all over the Orient. Remarkable iridescent tiles covered the fireplaces that sat waiting, ready to warm each room when needed.

He put Amber down in the parlor. It was a large receiving room meant to be the main entertaining space. Another public area was the dining room that lay just beyond a twelve-foot-high set of carved pocket doors that separated the rooms.

Architecture didn’t seem to be on Amber’s mind, however, when she sucked in an excited breath and rushed to the oil-on-canvas painting that hung over the mantel. Instead of the usual floral, it was a moody seascape he’d fallen in love with in a New York gallery.

She stared at the signature on the bottom right. “It’s by Samuel Colman,” Amber said. “He spoke at Vassar when I was first there.” She turned around, looking at the room. It was decorated in the same varying shades of blue as were in the painting. “It’s perfect in here.”

“I’m not that clever, Pixie. I sent the painting to my builder, and asked that he use it as a guide for the colors of the parlor. You have an interest in art?” he asked, intrigued to learn yet another thing about her. “Do you paint?”

“At boarding school we learned both watercolor and oils,” she said. “But I prefer the bolder color and contrast of oil.”

“Most ladies of quality mess about in watercolors
alone,” Mimm put in, standing in the doorway to the dining room.

Amber looked from Mimm to Meara, clearly not feeling free to say what she wanted. Then she turned and looked at him, raising her chin as if to say,
I never claimed to be a lady of quality.

In case that was the message, he smiled and pulled her into an embrace, whispering, “I prefer vibrancy of color and I thank God for everything you are.” He took her hand and added, “Please believe it.”

She blushed a bit and nodded. He loosened his hold, took her shoulders and turned her toward Mimm, then looped his arms around her at the waist. “I told you, Mimm,” Jamie said, “Amber is an original.”

Mimm smiled broadly. “That she is. That she is. You should rest, my lady. I’ll occupy our Meara while Jamie shows you the house and you get settled in.” Her eyes sparkled as she took Meara’s hand. “Come along, little lamb. It’s time your da and your new mum had a bit more
privacy.
”

“They just got privacy and all Da did was carry her in. How come she couldn’t walk up the steps? And how much privacy are they gonna need?” she demanded as she stomped along next to Mimm toward the back of the house.

“Just a bit now and again,” Mimm said, leading the way and laughing. “Come, draw them a happy picture. We’ll be all the way in the back garden,” she called over her shoulder from the far side of the dining room.

“She’s irrepressible, isn’t she?” Amber said, watching them head toward the back of the house.

Jamie laughed. “Which one? Meara or Mimm?”

Amber laughed. “Both, I suppose,” she said, turning to face him again and resting her head on his shoulder.

“I’m just glad they gave me an excuse to get you alone. Is it too early for a nap?” he asked as he wrapped her tighter in his arms. He knew the second she realized how aroused he already was.

“Jamie, it’s morning.”

She sounded so scandalized he laughed. “I seem to remember missing breakfast several times on the ship—”

“But the ship was different. A time out of time is what you called it.”

He nipped at her ear. “It doesn’t matter where we are,” he whispered, the timbre of his voice already giving away the depth of his need of her. “There isn’t a time of the day when I don’t want you. Come play with me, my pixie. There’s another threshold I need to carry you over.”

Her head dropped back and when she stared into his eyes there was heat in her gaze. But her uncertainty showed in her question. “What about all the household staff you hired?”

He winked and gave her the most sensual grin he could muster. “I suppose the back stairs will be buzzing if they haven’t finished upstairs yet today.”

“Jamie!”

“Calm yourself.” He chuckled. “I planned ahead. With the exception of the kitchen staff, all the servants have the rest of the day off. Even Lily O’Donnell, your new lady’s maid. She was rather concerned that you wouldn’t be able to do without her. I’m afraid I was forced to admit she’d replaced me in a job I’d trained at for months.” He scooped her up again and headed for the stairs.

“It seems to me you had our morning rather carefully designed to be scandalous. I think Mimm and Meara aren’t the only ones irrepressible in your household, Lord Adair.”

“I’m gratified you noticed, Lady Adair,” he said. Then, laughing, he vaulted up the stairs as fast as he could when carrying a pixie and an unmerciful hard-on.