CHAPTER FIVE

 

Joshua Brice was not the most lively conversationalist at the best of times, and certainly not when the topics centered around flowers or hats or precisely which shade of yellow velvet would most likely flatter the peach moiré gown Sarah Courtland would be wearing to her daughter’s wedding.

Alisha was doing it deliberately, he had no doubt, chattering on and on about who was wearing what and bemoaning the fact that several crucial articles were still missing from her trousseau. To her credit, she acted as if he were not even present in the room when she declared she had so many things to do, she simply had to go into Natchez the following morning, and, if the strain of a full day’s worth of running from store to store was as telling as it had been in the past, she would be best off staying the night with her dearest friend, Olivia Ward.

Sarah had initially protested, which was how they ended up talking about hats or, more specifically, the cunning little yellow bonnet Alisha had ordered for her mother on her last trip into town, intending it as a surprise.

Josh hoped he smiled in all the right places and made the appropriate sounds of approval when his opinions were called upon. His hands shook only a little and his palms were only moderately clammy. He should have been used to Alisha’s games by now, he supposed—her feigning an almost rude disinterest in him in front of the rest of the family—but after last night … after the passion and the wildness and the pleasure … half the time he couldn’t hear what they were saying over the incessant pounding of his own heartbeat.

Making matters worse, he felt like a complete fool balancing a delicate cup and saucer on his knee while the sweat gathered between his shoulder blades and poured in rivulets down his back. The jacket he wore belonged to his brother and fit snugly across the shoulders—not as snugly as his breeches each and every time he risked a glance at Alisha and watched the way her tongue glided across her lips to moisten them. He was sure she knew whenever his eyes were on her, certain she exaggerated the need to keep her lips so shiny or mold them so deliberately into a soft, seductive pout.

Thankfully, no one else appeared to notice his discomfort. Sarah Courtland was too distracted by the thought of a new bonnet, and Amanda …

Amanda looked as uncomfortable and miserable as he to be there, not touching her tea at all or even pretending to follow the conversation. Normally she was the one to suggest an escape from the clutches of such civility, but today she seemed distracted and it fell on Josh’s shoulders finally to ask if she might want to take a stroll outside with him.

“I understand Ryan’s mare is in foal.”

“Yes indeed,” Sarah replied, breaking briefly away from an exchange with Alisha. “And we are all quite proud of the coming event. It will be the first birthing since the war.”

Once renowned for breeding the best horseflesh south of Kentucky, the stables of Rosalie had been emptied in order to supply the Confederate cavalry with every advantage of speed and stamina. Upward of three hundred of Ryan’s pride and joy, his Thoroughbreds, had been sent onto the battlefields, and he had come home to find one stallion and two mares strapped in front of plows, all three half starved and near crippled.

“Ryan will fill the stables again in no time,” Josh predicted as he walked by Amanda’s side, his hand cradling her elbow. “Hell, he and your pa started out with a handful of knock-kneed breeders. All he needs is a turn of good luck.”

“Luck,” Amanda said wryly. “And a few thousand spare dollars to rebuild the stables, buy stock, and purchase the oats and hay to feed them.”

They lapsed into silence again as they cut through the garden . Josh felt more than a small twinge of alarm as they approached the summerhouse and he tried to hasten his steps to carry them past before Amanda noticed the white lace handkerchief snagged on a broken spar of the railing.

 

Amanda did just the opposite, however, slowing when they came abreast of the once-elegant structure and stopping altogether before they reached the fork in the path that would take them in the direction of the slave quarters. She was feeling foolish and awkward, not because she had seen any flapping white squares of lace, but because she had suddenly become very conscious of Josh’s hand on her arm. The encounter with Wainright was still raw in her mind. The cloyingly sweet odor of the hair oil he used came to her as freshly as if the Yankee’s narrow face were still before her.

But beside her, smelling of nothing more threatening than sunshine and hard work, was Joshua Brice. His lean handsomeness was as familiar and warming as a slow fire on a cool evening, and, as she looked up at his clean, strong features, she wondered why she had had any doubts at all that Josh could make her happy.

“Josh—?”

His head jerked around and he frowned. “Mmmm? Sorry, I must have … ah, drifted there for a minute. Did you want to ask me something?”

She looked down at the path and kicked at a pebble. “No. No, not really.”

“Well, I want to ask you something,” he said softly.

Amanda held her breath. “Yes?”

“Do you remember”—a grin spread across his face and he tilted his head in the direction of the river—“the night Stephen, Evan, Caleb, and I snuck out of a Christmas party your folks were throwing? We sat here and shared our first full jug of whiskey together, drinking until we couldn’t hardly stand, then caught the bright idea of going on down to the jetty and sailing a boat all the way to New Orleans.”

Amanda laughed. “I remember. The current was stronger than you counted on and Evan fell overboard. He sobered up enough to come tell Father where you had gone, but they still had to ride nearly twenty miles before they could get a line to you and drag you ashore.”

“Christ, our butts were red-raw for a week after that.” He turned, his hands shoved into his pockets, a lock of brown hair fallen over his brow. “The four of us were always getting into one sort of trouble or another together. We went to the same schools, got expelled the same number of times for the same reasons, fell in love with the same women … even managed to ride in the same unit for a while. Damn,” he added in a whisper, “but I miss them. It’s like someone cut off both my arms and a leg, and I just can’t seem to find my balance anymore.”

Amanda caught her lip between her teeth. “I know exactly how you feel. You and Caleb were as much a part of this family as any of us.”

“Yeah, well, Caleb was the smart one. He made it official. He said it came over him all sudden-like, that you weren’t the yellow-haired brat with big blue eyes who used to follow us around with dirt on her face and holes in her smock. You’d grown up when we weren’t looking and he worried himself into a lather every night thinking someone else might have noticed too.”

Amanda shook her head. “He shouldn’t have worried; no one did. Or if they did, it was only because Alisha set their heads in a spin and they figured one twin was as good as the other.”

Josh stiffened perceptibly and she hastened to add “I didn’t mean to sound catty. It’s just that … Alisha has always seemed to know what she wanted, what was out there waiting for her, what she could expect to find around every corner. And if it wasn’t there, she knew how to go out and get it. She still does.”

“Amanda—” Josh placed his hands on her shoulders, but in the next breath, the words died in his throat and all he could see was the startling blue of her eyes, the tempting softness of her mouth. Alisha’s eyes. Alisha’s mouth. And it was Alisha’s hand that lifted and rested lightly on his chest.

“What a terribly serious expression, Mr. Brice. What can you be thinking about?”

“I’m thinking … Caleb was a mighty smart man.”

Amanda felt a small thrill spiral through the length of her body. She was conscious of the breadth of his shoulders and the muscular leanness of his waist and thighs. His jade-green eyes were like a second pair of hands, warm and soft and sensual as they caressed her temples, her cheeks, her lips. A stronger wave of light-headedness, tinged with impatience, coursed through her, and she swayed even closer, wondering why it was taking him so long to see that she wanted to be kissed. The thought had startled her, to be sure, but now it was there, forthright and urgent, and she wanted more than anything to be gathered into his strong arms and told that everything was going to be all right.

Josh felt the gap closing between them. The liquid, pulsing heat in his belly refused to subside. His eyes remained intent upon her face … Amanda’s face … Alisha’s face. They shared the same flawless complexion, warm as velvet, smooth as fresh cream. Their eyes were the same evocative shape—wide and slightly uptilted, surrounded by the same thick fringe of lashes. Their bodies were equally lithe and seductive He knew exactly what lay beneath the thin layer of lavender muslin, knew the shape and firmness of her breasts, knew they would be rose-tipped and succulent …

“Josh, what is it?” she asked in a whisper. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing, I just—” The air he sucked into his lungs was heated with resentment and frustration. Alisha was marrying someone else. She was sitting in the parlor now, laughing and making her plans to wed a paunchy, randy bag of money, not even sparing a thought for the torment she was causing him.

“Josh—?”

The blood pounded up into his temples, blurring his thoughts, blurring his ability to reason. His hands found their way to either side of Amanda’s neck, his fingers twined themselves into the silk of her hair, and he brought her lips to within a breath of his.

 

Amanda’s skin glowed where his hands cradled her neck. Her body pressed eagerly, expectantly into his, and the tiny, tickling thrills became urgent shudders that weakened her arms, her legs, and sent her lashes fluttering closed. His heady, masculine scent engulfed her, and her hands inched higher, boldly demanding the support of his arms. With a smothered groan, Josh crushed her to him, sinking his fingers deeper into her hair and holding her captive to the bruising hunger of his lips.

But it was a savage, brutal kiss, not at all what she had foreseen, and the yearning for tender intimacy turned suddenly and frighteningly into the shock of intrusion. She tried to push away, to turn her head and be free of the wet, stabbing insistence of his tongue, but he would not permit it. His grip tightened and his mouth worked more furiously over hers until the sawing of his teeth and tongue wrought a genuine cry of alarm from her throat.

Amanda twisted and pushed with all her might, managing at last to fling herself out of his grasp. Displaced by his fingers, her hair flew every which way around her shoulders and her chest heaved with surprise and confusion. Her eyes were fixed wide, staring in disbelief. Her hand rose instinctively to her mouth, covering it like a shield.

Josh had stumbled back a step or two and for a moment it looked as if he were going to lunge after her again and renew his assault. His cheeks were flushed and his gaze seemed to be without focus, bright-hot with a lust she had never seen in him before. But even as she watched, frightened and bewildered, the snarl of his lips started to fade and the look in his eyes subsided, draining away to shock.

“Amanda,” he gasped. “Amanda … I’m sorry. Christ Almighty … I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”

He advanced a step and Amanda flinched back, not trusting his intentions or her own reactions.

“Amanda … you have to believe me … I never meant to hurt you.”

She swallowed hard. “You … haven’t hurt me, Josh. You’ve just … startled me, is all. I mean, it wasn’t as if I didn’t expect you to kiss me, or didn’t want you to kiss me. It’s been three months since you started calling and—”

“Stop,” he groaned, raking his hands into his hair. “Dear God, stop. Please. I never meant to let it go this far.”

“This far? I … don’t understand.”

“I never meant to let it go this far! I never meant to hurt you, never wanted to hurt you. If nothing else, you have to believe that.”

“Of course I believe you, but I still don’t—”

“It was Alisha’s idea,” he said in a husky, strained voice. “She didn’t want anyone to know that she and I … that we …”

The blue of Amanda’s eyes was so pure it seared his soul with guilt and brought his confession to a stammered halt He could not put their deceit into words, could not bear to see each and every one of them reflected in the growing horror that began to turn Amanda’s features rigid.

Her skin became ashen and the hand she held pressed to her lips began to tremble visibly.

“It was you,” she said hollowly. “Last night in the garden —here—it was you.”

“God, Amanda, I—”

He reached out again, and again she jerked back. The color she had lost from her complexion resurged with a vengeance, staining her cheeks red and hot.

“You … and my sister … all this time?”

He could not bring himself to face the accusation in her eyes, and he looked at the ground, at the overgrown hedgerow, at the cracks in the cobblestones. What could he do? What could he say? He loved Alisha. He hadn’t planned on it happening, but it had and there was nothing he could do to change it, or to change the way he felt. Amanda had always been like a sister to him, someone he could talk to, be comfortable around, and respect for her loyalty and honesty. Alisha, on the other hand, was dangerously wild and unpredictable. She was exciting and passionate and pushed his emotions—love and hate—to the limit each and every time they were together. And although it did not say much for the strength of his own character, he could not imagine a life without that wildness and passion in it now.

“You have to believe, I never meant to hurt you,” he said again lamely. “We never meant to hurt you.”

Amanda’s hands curled around the folds of her skirt and crushed the fabric so hard her knuckles ached from the pressure. She could almost believe he was sincere—naive and ignorant, yes; blind and besotted, obviously—but sincere when he said he hadn’t meant to hurt her. On the other hand, she was certain Alisha had known exactly what she was doing. She never thought of anyone’s feelings but her own, and if she had to betray her own flesh and blood in order to get what she wanted, she gave it little more thought than stepping on a bug if it was in her way. She clearly had Josh twisted tightly around her finger. It was apparent he was blindly in love with her, and it was difficult for Amanda to feel anything but pity for him.

“You haven’t hurt me, Josh,” she said calmly. “If anything, you may even have helped me. You see, I had some difficult choices to make, and in a way, you’ve made it that much easier for me to do what I have to do.”

He looked up, his face pale and anxious. “You … won’t tell Alisha about this, will you?”

Seeing the pathetic look on his face, she almost smiled in sympathy.

“No.” She shook her head sadly. “No, I don’t think either one of us should tell Alisha about this. You won’t mind, however, if we put an end to this insulting little charade of courtship? If the two of you need or want an excuse to see each other in the daylight, you will just have to find someone else to use. Good-bye, Josh. And … I am sorry for you. Because if anyone is going to get hurt by all of this, it’s going to be you. Alisha will use you, just like she has hurt and used everyone else who’s ever been foolish enough to love her.”

Josh remained wooden and unmoving as she brushed past him and headed not in the direction of the outbuildings, but in the direction of the river. For the sake of her pride, she did not slow her steps until she was well away from the summer-house; for the sake of her skirt and shoes, she stopped in the first thick wedge of trees.

When she was out of sight, she leaned against a wide trunk and covered her face with her hands.

Josh had used her. Alisha had used her. And she had been so wrapped up in her own pride and foolish notions of doing what was best for everyone else, she had not even had an inkling of their duplicity. Tell Alisha? Why? So her twin could laugh in her face and say it only confirmed her low opinion of Amanda’s gullibility? She couldn’t even dare tell Ryan—at the very least he would probably go after Josh with a whip or a gun … or both.

Amanda brushed angrily at her tears and turned her face into the humid breeze, letting it drag at the weight of her hair, but she found neither relief nor comfort in the clinging moisture.

Joshua Brice was indeed the fool if he thought Alisha would give up everything the baron had to offer for the sake of love. And Alisha was just a plain fool for turning her back on the kind of emotion Amanda had seen blazing from Josh’s eyes. It was a certainty no man had ever looked at her that way before, not even Caleb.

It was a further certainty that if any man ever did, she would give up life itself before she would turn him away, and she would die content, knowing the sacrifice had been well worth it.