Free Whispers at Midnight by Andrea Parnell Page A

height.
    “Yes, I am,” Amanda answered softly, feeling
a tiny glow of warmth budding inside as the full effect of the wine
reached her blood. “And I’m afraid I’ll be tottering without your
arm to guide me to the carriage.”
    “Yours to serve, dear lady,” he said,
helping Amanda to her feet and bringing his lips very near her
ear.
    She could feel his warm breath stirring the
wispy little curls she had carefully trained in place.
    With an easy smile on his face, Gardner
linked his arm through hers and gave all the assistance she needed
to glide across the dining-room floor and down the street to where
his carriage waited. Once under way, the wheels floated as if on
clouds. Amanda quickly succumbed to the smooth motion. Such a
reassuring comfortable feeling, and with it a pleasant masculine
scent and that of tobacco. Such a wonderful contentment. She was
stunned when Gardner’s deep voice broke the spell.
    “We’re at Wicklow, Amanda.”
    Murmuring softly, she stirred from within a
misty veil of sleep. The night air was cool and fragrant against
her face. Lifting up, she felt a warm weight on her shoulders and
realized that Gardner’s arm was draped around her. Amanda gasped
softly and her lids sprang open fully as she found her own arm
wrapped about Gardner’s chest and her head snuggled firmly against
his shoulder.
    “Oh!” she exclaimed rather foolishly, and
sat up hurriedly, smoothing the stray curls from her forehead. She
could feel Gardner’s eyes marking her awkward confusion. At
Wicklow? But hadn’t they just left the tavern? She threw back her
head and inhaled deeply of the fresh country air. From the
brush-covered banks of the river a whippoorwill warbled its mating
call. Above the treetops a few wisps of dark clouds made a net for
the stars in a midnight sky. “You shouldn’t have let me fall
asleep, Gardner.” Amanda hoped that in the darkness he wouldn’t see
the deep flush of her cheeks.
    Taking hold of her hands, he laughed
lightly. “I have found it most pleasurable to serve as your
pillow.”
    The carriage stopped with a jerk. Amanda
allowed Gardner to lift her down, feeling even more unsteady on her
feet than when they had left the tavern. It was the combination of
fatigue and wine, she decided, coupled with a great lack of sleep.
She stumbled once climbing the steps, and Gardner, laughing, swept
a protesting Amanda into his arms and carried her up the remaining
ones. Flamboyantly, he swung open the wide front door and, laughing
more loudly at his squirming burden, carried her to the foot of the
stairs.
    “Shall I take you up, dear lady?”
    “No,” Amanda said, blushing until she was
sure she was as scarlet as the wall panels in the hall. “Leave me a
little pride,” she continued, her voice soft but insistent. She
laughed. “You’ve seen too much of wine’s effect on me.”
    “As you wish.” Gardner smiled, bowing low,
then rising to take her hands.
    “It was wonderful, Gardner,” she whispered.
“Thank you.”
    “I thank you,” he said lightly, locking his
fingers behind her neck and bending low to kiss her. “Good night,
dear lady,” he whispered, lifting the soft touch of his lips from
her cheek.
    Amanda stood on the bottom stair in the
shadow of the Turkish King, her hand resting on the curved rail of
the staircase, feeling warm and safe and anxious to carry the glow
Gardner had given her into her dreams. When he had left and locked
the door behind him, she spun lightly about and started up to her
room.
    She had climbed cautiously all the way to
the top of the stairs when she saw Ryne. She almost stumbled back
and fell, but he caught hold of her arm and prevented it. He pulled
her so close to him that she could feel the hard contours of his
body. Her skin prickled all over at his touch and she inhaled
quickly and sharply.
    “You are drunk with something, dear cousin,”
he said. “Is it wine or something more sweet?” He was dressed
entirely in black, his silk