The Magic of You by Johanna Lindsey
“Not quite, but she was up to trotting out words like duty, responsibility, and practice, so what was I to do? But if I’d known you’d be here, I would have delegated the pleasure to you. In fact, since you are—”
“Oh, no.” Anthony laughed. “I did my fair share of keeping an eye on the little darlings with Reggie. ’Fraid it’s your turn.”
“I’ll remember this, you bloody ass, see if I don’t,” was James’s surly reply.
Anthony put his arm around James’s shoulders. “Buck up, old man. At least he’s here to amuse you.”
James followed his brother’s nod toward the tall American on the opposite side of the dance floor. Warren looked quite different, decked out formal—almost civilized. It was heartening to note he was enjoying himself no more than James was, but that didn’t improve James’s mood. He’d much rather be home with his wife.
“I’d already noticed,” he said disagreeably. “And here I thought my luck had changed when he was absent from the family visits most of this week.”
“You can thank me for that, don’t you know. I daresay he’s dropping into bed each night with moans and groans, I’ve had him on such a grueling schedule.”
“So he did agree to let you train him?”
“Did you doubt it?” Anthony replied. “He’s quite dedicated to improving his skill, and with his longer reach…Don’t be surprised, old man, if he knocks you on your arse next time you tangle with him.”
“You, dear boy, have gone on too long without being knocked on your own arse,” James shot back. “I’d be happy to remedy that for you.”
Anthony merely laughed. “Let’s hold off a bit more, shall we, till the wives understand us a little better. Ros gets downright testy when she disapproves of my actions, damn me if she don’t.”
“I hate to mention it, but you’re only making me more eager.”
“And what would George say?”
“She’d probably thank me. You’re not one of her favorite people, you know.”
Anthony sighed. “What’d I do now?”
“You offered to train her brother.”
“And how’d she hear about that?”
“I may have mentioned it.”
“Well, I like that,” Anthony complained. “Don’t she know I’m doing the chap a favor?”
“We both know who you’re doing the favor for, and I appreciate it even if she don’t.”
Anthony suddenly grinned. “I hope you remember that when it’s over, because he’s not bad, you know. ’Course, he hasn’t got bricks for fists like you do, but he packs quite a wallop when he finds an opening. I’ve gone home with a few pains myself this week.”
James wasn’t worried. “So how soon before he feels he’s ready?”
“I’d say a month, but with his impatience, I’ll be hard pressed to convince him to wait that long. The chap really is a powder keg of boiling emotions, and though I daresay he’ll be pleased to take them out on you, I’m not so sure you’re solely to blame for them.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve caught him staring off into space a few times with a besotted look, and we both know what’s usually responsible for that.”
“Poor girl,” James replied. “Someone ought to warn her off.”
“I’d be happy to if I knew who she was, but he won’t fess up. Gets downright furious when I rib him about it. By the by, I’d say that’s going to be your only advantage by the time I’m done with him, his anger.”
“I’m well acquainted with it and his inability to control it.”
“Yes, I suppose you are. But I wonder who it’s directed at just now.”
James again followed Anthony’s look across the room to see that Warren was most definitely scowling at someone on the dance floor. There were too many couples presently dancing to figure out who that someone might be, but James’s curiosity was assuredly pricked.
“D’you think it’s his lady love?” James wondered aloud.
“Damn me if I don’t.” Anthony grinned. “This ought to be interesting.”
“If he does anything other than scowl.”
“Where’s your faith, old boy? The night is young. He’ll dance with her eventually—or attempt to throttle whoever she’s with.”
James suddenly sighed. “I hate to say it, but we’re probably wrong.”
“The devil we are,” Anthony protested; then: “Why are we?”
“Because we’ve both assumed that’s jealousy we’re witnessing, but according to George, the man’s feelings don’t run in that direction.”
“Absurd.”
“Jilted and never recovered.”
“Ah, that explains a lot. But then, what’s he so bloody ticked off about? Or have you already had words with him tonight?”
“’Fraid I can’t take the credit this time. I’ve spoken with a few of his brothers, since they’re all here, but Warren has steered clear of me.”
“Smart man, considering your own mood.”
“I notice you haven’t run for cover.”
Anthony grinned unrepentantly. “So I still like to live dangerously.”
“More probably you’re tired of living.”
Anthony chuckled. “You like my wife too much to damage her favorite husband.”
“I hate to disillusion you, dear boy, but if I’d trounce my own wife’s favorite brother, what makes you think—”
“Why don’t we save this, James?” Anthony cut in, his attention drawn elsewhere. “Our friend seems to be making his move.”
They both watched Warren weave his way through the dancing couples toward the front of the ballroom. They were able to keep sight of him because of his height, but they had less luck seeing whom he was interrupting when he stopped. A moment later, a young dandy left the floor looking none too pleased.
“Well, can you see who the unfortunate lady is that he’s so interested in?” James asked.
“I can’t see a bloody thing other than his head, the floor’s so crowded. But have patience. They’ll twirl past us in a—bloody hell, I’ll kill him!”
James caught sight of the eggshell-blue gown at the same time Anthony did. Anthony started forward. James pulled him right back.
“Now hold on,” he said reasonably and with some amusement. “Before you jump to conclusions, dear boy, kindly recall that our Amy is too young for the blighter. Good God, d’you really think he’d turn his wicked designs on such an innocent?”
“You’re defending him?”
“Disgusting, isn’t it?” James concurred. “But according to George, he may treat women with the greatest indifference, but he picks those who can take it, not vestal virgins. Much as I’d like to think he’s that depraved, he’s not.”
Anthony was only slightly mollified. “Then what’s he doing dancing with Amy?”
“Now why wouldn’t he, when she’s probably the only other female he knows here besides your wife?”
“So why couldn’t he wait until the dance had ended?” Anthony asked.
“I would imagine because he couldn’t get anywhere near the darling girl between dances. Or hadn’t you noticed that she’s got as many if not more young swains flocking around her skirts than before, and she’s been out on the floor ever since we got here.”
Anthony sighed. “Well, hell, that does make sense, doesn’t it?”
“More sense than what you were thinking.”
“I suppose we could even allow that whoever the chap was glowering at before, he must be a bit more than just mildly interested in.”
“You’re flying high with assumptions tonight, dear boy. What’s this one?”
“Well, it’s bloody well obvious, ain’t it? He’s using Amy, who’s clearly the prettiest girl here—next to my wife, of course—to make the woman he’s after jealous.”
“I hate to keep shooting you down, Tony, indeed I do, but it don’t have to be a woman or jealousy to set that chap off. He lays into his brothers as often as anyone else, It could have be
“But they ain’t on the dance floor. Three are in the card room, and the other one’s over there talking to one of Eden’s ex-mistresses.”
“So he is.” James frowned thoughtfully and once more tried to find Amy and Warren among the dancers. “Now you’ve got me curious again. I’m about ready to go ask—” James didn’t finish. He caught sight of Warren finally, and the Yank’s scowl was even blacker than before and directed at none other than Amy. In a quiet though no-less-expressive voice, James said, “The man’s dead.”
Anthony saw what James did. “So it’s Amy he’s been shooting daggers at? But whatever for?”
“What the bloody hell do you think, you ass?”
“You mean I was right? Now wait up.” Anthony did the pulling back this time, not to save Warren’s hide, but to save some of that hide for himself. “I’d say that gives me first crack at him. Brother.”
“You can have what’s left.”
“Bother that; you don’t leave anything,” Anthony pointed out. “And come to think of it, we can’t very well rip him apart here. Someone might object to blood on the dance floor. Besides, as you’ve hated to mention a number of times this evening, we could be wrong.”
“The Yank better hope we are,” James said grimly.
Chapter 23
“Dare I hope you’re dancing with me because you want to, Warren, and not because you’ve got some bone to pick with me?” Amy asked.
He didn’t answer her question, or rather he did, indirectly. “Do you have to flirt with all of them?”
She laughed delightedly. “With you watching? ’Course I do. It’s to show you the difference, you see.”
“What difference?”
“Of how it is now, before you’ve claimed me, and how it will be after, when I flirt only with you. You’ll like the after much better, I assure you. And stop scowling so. People might notice and think you’re angry with me. Are you?”
“I am perfectly indifferent to whatever you do,” he assured her.
“Rubbish,” was her reply, accompanied by a very unladylike snort. “But that’s all right. I can tell the truth for both of us, and I’ll start with mine. I’ve missed you terribly. It was too bad of you to turn a few days into four, just to prove a point.”
“But it was proved, wasn’t it?”
“Don’t sound so smug. All that was proved is how stubborn you can be. The truth is, you missed me, too. Would you make me happy and admit it?”
Make her happy? Incredibly, he felt the urge, quite powerfully, to do just that. Christ, this was madness. So what if he had missed her, or at least thought about her too much while he’d stayed away? She was amusing—when she wasn’t ripping him up inside with her seductions. But tell her so? In good conscience, he couldn’t deviate from the stand he’d taken to discourage her.
Then why in hell was he dancing with her?
Because she was exquisite tonight in her finery. Because, decked out in pearls and shining silk, she looked so much older. Because he’d felt like killing her last partner for holding her too close. Because he couldn’t help himself.
She gave up waiting for his answer. “Your frown is getting worse. Shall I tell you a joke?”
“No.”
“Shall I kiss you?”
“No!”
“Shall I tell you where you can find the nearest switch?”
The sound he made was half groan, half laugh. It was actually a horrible sound, though at that moment it was music to Amy’s ears.
“Much better.” She grinned up at him. “But we still haven’t managed a smile. Will some compliments help? You do look splendid tonight. And I like what you’ve done with your hair.” He’d clubbed it back for the occasion. “You aren’t going to cut it?”
“And look more English?”
“Ah, so there’s rhyme and reason to your unfashionable locks. Now why didn’t I guess?” After a moment of silence, she prodded him. “Well?”
“What?”
“Aren’t you going to return the compliments?”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so, but it was worth a try.”
“Amy, why don’t you be quiet for five minutes?” he suggested.
“Silence doesn’t make progress.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Ah, so you just want to hold me? Why didn’t you say so?”
He groaned. Why wouldn’t she give up? Unless…
“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” He’d finally figured it out.
“What?”
“And he won’t marry you, so you’re desperate to find someone who will.”
She sighed. “I honestly don’t know why I don’t get furious with you, Warren Anderson. I must love you already. Yes, that would explain it.”
He stiffened. “You said you didn’t.”
“I said I wasn’t sure, but why else would I let you treat me so shabbily without boxing your ears for it?”
“My point exactly,” he replied. “And don’t bother to deny it.”
“Oh, I won’t,” she said in a tone he hadn’t heard from her before. “I’ll let you discover that truth for yourself, when you get around to it. But in the meantime, I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to be furious with you after all.”
She walked out of his arms and right off the floor. He stood there for a moment, incredulous that she’d actually lost her temper. Well, good. She couldn’t seduce him with her provocative innuendos if she refused to speak to him, now could she?
To hell with that. He wanted to hear her deny that she was pregnant. Blast it, he had to hear her deny it—or own up to it. He was surprised at how much it meant to him.
He started to follow her. He got no further than the edge of the dance floor, where James and Anthony each took one of his arms to steer him in another direction. He started to protest. He had no patience for these two now, and especially not for their irritating drollery. But they were in a blasted hurry to get wherever they were going, and rather insistent on dragging him along with them.
Warren couldn’t imagine what they wanted. Probably no more than needing a fourth in some card game. Although with James Malory, it could be something as simple as objecting to the cut of his coat.
All right, he could spare a moment. If the uncles were both here, then Amy wasn’t going anywhere.
But it certainly wasn’t the cut of his coat James was interested in as they entered an empty billiards room. Warren was slammed up against the wall the very moment the door was closed. Anthony’s hand leaned against it to keep it that way, while James’s fists locked on Warren’s lapels.
“You’ve got one second, Yank, to convince me you don’t have designs on my niece.”
Ordinarily, Warren would have said nothing, would have just started swinging. But this was his sister’s husband. This was also the one man he didn’t stand a chance of beating—yet. And the reason that had James looking like hell warmed over was so ludicrous, Warren almost laughed.
God, this was rich. The girl blatantly pursues him, and he was going to get taken to task for it. The hell he was.
“I don’t,” he said emphatically.
“Now why don’t I believe you?” James replied.
“Is there a crime against dancing with her?”
“There’s a crime in the way you were looking at her,” James said.
Warren groaned inwardly. Well, she’d tried to tell him someone would notice. Did it have to be these two?
He gave a shot at a plausible excuse. “I’ve got a lot on my mind, Malory. The way I look at people often has nothing to do with them in particular.”
Which was true, but not in this case. Damn, they were making him feel like a callow youth caught with his pants down. And all he’d done was try to put the girl off. And think about her more than he should. And nearly make love to her in the middle of a damn road. The images came back to him, hot and strong.
“Hate to s
“With him, indeed it is,” James agreed, though he was still skeptical enough to ask Warren, “So you’re not attracted to her a’tall?”
“I didn’t say that,” Warren heard himself respond, almost in her defense.
“Wrong answer, Yank.”
Warren was slammed into the wall again for that little truth. His head cracked against it this time, which started his temper rolling.
“You want me to deny that she’s incredibly lovely?” he growled. “I’d have to be dead not to have noticed that. Now get your hands off me.”
The hands didn’t come off his coat yet, but James’s tone was a lot milder as he pointed out, “She’s too young for you to notice.”
Warren agreed, but since it was James saying it, he replied, “You’re a fine one to talk. Georgie was only a few years older than Amy when you met her, and you’re older than I am.”
Four years was a few more than a few between Amy’s and Georgina’s ages, and James was only one year older than Warren, so comparing the two just didn’t wash with either Malory brother.
“Maybe a change in his vision is called for,” Anthony suggested. “A little blurring so he don’t see so good to notice things he oughtn’t. I’d be happy to take care of it, old man, if you’re worried about what George will say.”
“Not a’tall. That just isn’t enough.”
That did it for Warren. “This is absurd!” he exploded at last. “I’ve told you I don’t have designs on the girl. But if you want to protect her so-called virtue, you ought to put her under lock and key. Maybe then I’ll get some peace.”
“What the bloody hell does that mean?” James demanded.
“It means that your niece has been throwing herself at me every damn opportunity she gets.”
“Wait!” Anthony choked out. “Let me laugh a bit over that one before you kill him.”
James wasn’t as amused as his brother. “Are you demented, to think you can use that excuse with us, Yank? Or have you deluded yourself into thinking a sweet girl’s smiles and looks are displays of other than friendliness?”
Warren sighed. He really shouldn’t have said it. Damn temper. And it felt nearly like a betrayal of Amy, though he’d never promised he would keep her shameful secret. However, if they’d bothered to believe him, he might have got the help he needed to keep Amy away from him. But they weren’t going to believe him. Her Miss Innocent act obviously had her whole family fooled.