Free A Lady at Last by Brenda Joyce Page A

filled with confusion. He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen and he actually seemed kind, genuinely so. He was one of the greatest masters of the sea, and for her, that was better than being a king. When he accepted her offer, she was going to share his bed.
    She had never desired a man. But sometimes at night, in her dreams, a faceless golden lover came to her, kissing her with heat, and when she awoke, she was filled with a tension she barely understood. Sometimes she woke up on the verge of discovering great pleasure, only to realize she had been dreaming and she was alone.
    She wondered if she would start dreaming about Cliff de Warenne. Because he was exactly like her dream lover, wasn’t he? Big, powerful, golden…
    His eyes widened and he leaped to his feet. He paced away from her, pouring himself a drink. His hand trembled.
    Amanda didn’t move. How could she be thinking of those very private dreams now? They had business to discuss! But why was he trembling? “Why are you shaking?”
    He made a harsh sound, not answering.
    She sighed, kicking her feet out. “Maybe you are catching the flu. Some of the sailors have it.”
    â€œIt’s not the flu,” he said grimly.
    She smiled at him. “That’s good.” She hesitated, because in spite of what she had to do, she was afraid to begin this particular negotiation. Besides, she was enjoying the chair, the room and such noble company. She hedged. “Why do you have so much furniture? And if you didn’t want to fornicate with that woman, why was she here?”
    He approached, appearing aghast. “I know you have been through a terrible time, and that we come from different worlds. Amanda, I—someone needs to teach you a few things.”
    She became wary. “Like what? Reading?”
    â€œA tutor can do that. You cannot use certain language in polite company. In fact, you can’t speak of…fornication, ever!”
    â€œWhy the hell not?” she asked, genuinely puzzled. “It’s all men do, most of the time.”
    He looked at her and finally, he started to smile. “All right,” he said, holding up his hand. “We are victims of our male bodies, I grant you that. Let’s start over. You cannot wander this house in such attire.”
    She looked down at the lovely nightgown. He was going to take it back, she realized glumly. She fingered the lace edge of one strap. Then she looked up. She shrugged, so he wouldn’t know that she would care if he took it back.
    He regarded her closely. “Amanda.” He sat once more on the ottoman, although he’d moved it a bit farther away. “We do need to discuss something else.”
    He was very serious. Was he going to give her an overdue boot after all?
    â€œI hope I was not presumptuous, but I thought you would prefer a burial at sea.”
    Amanda stiffened. “I hadn’t thought about it! Where is Papa?” she cried in alarm.
    â€œHe is in the Kingston funeral parlor. We can bury him at sea. I have arranged it.”
    Amanda nodded, incapable of speech.
    â€œI was thinking tomorrow,” he said, his eyes soft with sympathy. “Can you manage? I can say a few words as ship’s captain, or I can summon a minister, or even a naval chaplain.”
    Papa wasn’t buried yet, she managed to think. She would be able to attend his funeral. She met his searching gaze. “I’d like you to bless him.”
    â€œThen it is as good as done,” he said softly.
    He was being so kind again, and he was so impossibly handsome that her heart turned over as hard as a dory being flipped in high seas. She looked up into his brilliantly blue eyes and felt impossibly reassured, impossibly safe, as if she had just crept into harbor with all sails shortened after a raging storm. Maybe she didn’t have to be afraid of this man, she thought.
    He stood up. “Did you wish to see me for a reason? If