Married By Midnight

A moment passed while he just looked at her, as if he’d forgotten what he wanted to say, or perhaps couldn’t bring himself to say it. Amanda didn’t know which. All she knew for certain was that her mouth had grown so dry she couldn’t have answered had he asked her anything.

Then he smiled. It pulled at the corners of his mouth, lifting them ever so slightly.

Amanda fought back her own answering grin and wagged her finger at his legs. “I see you found your trousers.”

Behind her, she heard Dolly approach, and sensed her craning her neck for a better view.

Nick’s smile widened and he glanced down at himself. “Sorry about that. I didn’t realize…”

Amanda crossed her arms in front of her. “You didn’t realize? Is that because you routinely have so many women in your bedchamber?”

“Only ones I’m related to.” His grin turned devilish. “Unfortunately.”

The heat inside Amanda increased, spread through her, weakening her knees. The mere presence of this man two feet away called to her, urged her to move closer, as if he somehow held a power over her she could not resist.

And didn’t want to resist.

She took a step backward. She could have sworn he leaned forward, but maybe it was her imagination.

“So, anyway,” Nick said, “I came to apologize for my state of dress just now.”

“The lack of it, you mean?”

He grinned again. “Yes. I hope you weren’t offended.”

“Traumatized beyond recovery,” Amanda declared, hoping the sarcasm in her voice could somehow take the edge off her churning emotions. “I’ll probably have to spend the rest of the day in bed.”

His grin blossomed devilishly and his gaze dipped to her toes, then rose to her face once more in a swift, hot sweep. Amanda’s cheeks burned as his eyes caressed her.

“Well, if there’s any way I can assist you in that, please let me know.” Nick gave her a nod and headed back down the hall.

Amanda just stood there for a moment, watching him walk away. Long legs, straight back, muscular—

“Oh, gracious.” What was she doing? She slammed the door, fanning her face with her hand.

“That was him, wasn’t it?” Dolly asked, her eyes bulging. “That was Mr. Nick?”

All Amanda could manage was a nod.

“Did you see that man’s feet?” Dolly asked, more an announcement than a question. “Land sakes, he has the biggest feet I’ve ever laid eyes on. And you know what that means.”

Amanda’s face flushed anew.

“Help me, Lord,” Dolly beseeched, turning her face upward and clutching her hands to her chest. “I am in love.”

“Only twenty minutes ago you said you didn’t like Nick.”

Dolly turned to her as if she’d lost her mind. “Did you see that man?”

Amanda reined in her own runaway thoughts, forcing herself to regain her composure. “He was pleasant looking.”

“Pleasant looking? Lordy, Miz Amanda, that ain’t the half of it.” Dolly nodded her head wisely. “He was giving you the look.”

“The look?”

“You know what I mean,” Dolly said. “He got an eyeful of you, and he liked what he saw. Believe me, I know.”

Yes, Dolly did know. She had an uncanny ability to read people’s expressions. Her intuition ran far deeper than Amanda’s ever had.

But Amanda didn’t want to think about the possibility that she might be right.

“I came here with the intention of avoiding Nick,” Amanda declared. “That’s what I intend to do. Now, I’d better get on with the day. Maybe I can hurry this wedding along, get it over with sooner, somehow. The quicker I get back home the happier I’ll be.”

“You’re gonna avoid Mr. Nick?” Dolly gave her a knowing look. “We’ll just see about that….”

Nothing like making a good impression.

Nick gave his necktie a tweak as he trotted downstairs, cringing inwardly at what had happened in his room. A beautiful woman in front of him and he’d had no trousers on.

He paused at the bottom of the steps. The situation could have turned out much more embarrassing. In fact, it almost had.

The warmth that had simmered in him since Amanda had sashayed out of his bedchamber increased a little more. She’d had on a dressing gown, buttoned up to her throat and cinched at her waist. But those curves of hers, hips and breasts clearly defined by the flow of fabric, with none of the armor of underwear most women insisted upon wearing to disguise their shape and keep him from seeing their figure…

When he’d gone to Amanda’s bedchamber to apologize, he’d gotten close enough to smell her. He’d almost made a complete fool of himself all over again.

Nick ground his teeth together and hurried toward the breakfast room. Enough of those thoughts. He had a lot to do today, and remembering a beautiful woman like Amanda in her dressing gown would only keep him from thinking straight.

The comfortable, sunny yellow breakfast room was situated at the back of the house. Windows offered views of the grounds. Since it was early, none of the other houseguests were up yet, which suited Nick fine.

A servant in a gray uniform and crisp white apron came in as Nick sat down at the head of the table. She filled his cup from the silver service on the buffet and presented him with the morning newspaper. He told her what he wanted for breakfast and she left again.

Unfurling the paper, he reached for his cup. A fragrance tickled his nose. It wasn’t the coffee.

Amanda stood in the doorway.

In contrast to earlier, her hair was done up atop her head, with little tendrils curling at her ears. She wore a pale blue gown. The skirt was drawn across her front, then lifted high to a bustle in the back. The toes of her high buttoned shoes peeked from beneath the skirt. Leg-o’-mutton sleeves on her jacket tapered to her wrists.

“Good morning.” Nick lurched to his feet, catching the newspaper before it slipped to the floor.

A few seconds passed while Amanda just stood there, as if reluctant to enter the room. Finally, she did.

“I see you’ve dressed for breakfast,” she said.

Nick stepped away from the table, looked down and tapped his toes on the floor. “Shoes and socks this time.”

She glanced down and he could have sworn her cheeks colored. Odd reaction to his feet, he thought.

Nick held the chair to his immediate right, and Amanda lowered herself into it. He lingered for a moment, looking down at her, held captive by the long line of her neck, the loose curls of her fine hair, her slim shoulders and the scent that wafted up.

“Is something wrong?” Amanda asked, turning her head to look back at him.

“No, nothing,” Nick said, fearing that he’d moaned aloud or something. He gave her a quick smile.

She smiled, too—a lovely, shy little smile. Nick dropped into his chair and picked up his napkin. It seemed a good idea to have something over his lap at the moment.

The servant came in again and poured juice at Amanda’s request. She declined a hot breakfast, preferring pastries and fruit from the platter already on the table.

“Don’t let me disturb you,” she said to Nick, nodding toward the newspaper beside his plate.

He was quite certain nothing the Times reported today could be as interesting as the woman seated at his elbow.

“No, it’s all right. I can read later—”

But before he could finish his sentence, Amanda pulled a tiny tablet and the nub of a pencil from her skirt pocket and turned her attention to them.

For some reason, that didn’t quite suit him. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you earlier,” he said.

“It’s all right.”

“It’s been a long time.”

“Yes, it has.” She glanced up at him, then turned back to her tablet once more.

“Yes, it has,” he echoed, and couldn’t help but think he was usually better at talking to women than this.

“How’s your family?” Nick asked.

“Quite well, thank you.”

A few more minutes dragged by.

“Are you planning to be in town long?” he asked.

“No,” Amanda said. “I’ll be going home immediately after the wedding.”

Nick wasn’t certain what he was doing wrong. He’d never had to work this hard at conversation in his life.

Generally, women fell all over him, hanging on his every word, giggling at his jokes. This one, however, didn’t seem to care if he sat here with her or not. Somehow, that made him try harder.

“I guess you’ll help out with all the last-minute wedding preparations today?” he asked.

That got a bigger response from Amanda than he’d elicited so far, but it wasn’t favorable. She cringed, held up her hand as if to ward off the possibility, and gave herself a little shake.

“I fear that will be my doom—destiny,” she said, and turned back to her tablet.

Nick was about to run out of small talk. Maybe if he knew what his competition was, he’d be better able to hold her attention, he decided.

He tilted his head to get a look at the tablet she was writing on, and saw that she’d made a list of some sort.

Probably some litany of the inane things women spent their time on. Nick leaned closer, unable not to. Lord, she smelled delightful. Lavender or something.

Just then Amanda sat back and frowned. She gave a breathy little sigh.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, glancing from her tablet to her face again.

Surely something was amiss. The fact was obvious from the look on her face—the lines of concentration, the frown. How endearing she looked, probably worried over some shopping problem she faced today. Nick wondered at the workings of the feminine mind. The smallest things threw them.

Amanda tapped her pencil against her bottom lip. Nick shifted in his chair.

“I might be able to help,” he offered, dragging his gaze away from her mouth.

She laid her pencil aside. “Do you know anything about concrete?”

He stilled, then leaned back. “Concrete?”

“Yes, concrete. It’s used in construction to form—”

“I know what concrete is.” He looked down at her tablet. “Why do you want to know?”

“I’m going to erect a building.”

His frowned. “You’re going to do what?”

“Erect a building.”

Nick just stared at her, not sure he’d understood her correctly.

“I’m going to erect a building,” Amanda said again. “Erect. A. Building. Erect. Are you understanding this?”

“I assure you, I have firsthand knowledge of erec—never mind.” Nick drew in a breath. “Why are you…putting up a building?”

“It’s a long story,” Amanda said, picking up her pencil again, “and not a very interesting one, really.”

The servant came into the room and served Nick his breakfast. He picked up his fork and bit into the eggs.

“Go ahead. Tell me. I’d like to hear all about it,” Nick said. “Are you building a flower shop? A dress shop, maybe? Or one of those hat places where women like to wile away the afternoon?”

“I’m building a refuge for women with children who’ve been abandoned by their husbands.”

Nick froze, staring at her. He knew he should say something, but couldn’t think of a darned thing. Anyway, it was almost impossible to speak with his foot buried so deeply in his mouth.

“All is well. All is going as planned,” Constance announced as she breezed into the breakfast room. “Today I’m going to—”

“I have to go, Mother,” Nick said, rising from his chair, glad to be interrupted before he made an even bigger fool of himself in front of Amanda—though he didn’t know how that would be possible.

“But don’t you want to hear about the wedding plans?” Constance asked, as if she couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t. “The florist is coming over today—”

“I’ll hear about it later,” Nick promised, tossing his napkin onto his plate.

“Oh, well, all right.” Constance turned to Amanda. “We’ll have such fun today. After the florist leaves, the dressmaker will be by for a final fitting.”

“Oh, yes…” Amanda smiled bravely. “Won’t that be fun?”

“Has Cecilia showed you her trousseau yet?”

“Actually, she has. Last night,” Amanda said.

“Well, you’ll want to see it again,” Constance declared. “We’ll do that this afternoon.”

“Lovely…”

The change in Amanda that Constance seemed not to notice didn’t escape Nick. Right before his eyes Amanda appeared to wilt. Her shoulders slumped. Beneath her brave facade he caught a fleeting grimace of distaste.

Was it possible that she was as tired of hearing about Cecilia’s wedding as he was?

He decided to take a chance.

“Actually, Mother,” Nick said, “I’ve already offered to show Amanda around the city this morning.”

Amanda’s gaze came up quickly and landed on him with such gratitude that he thought she might launch herself into his arms.

“Really?” Constance said, clearly disappointed.

Nick looked down at Amanda. “Unless you want to change your mind and stay here today?”

Now she looked as if she might throttle him.

“No!” She jumped from her chair, then forced a smile. “I mean, no. I couldn’t go back on my word after you so generously offered your time.”

“Well, perhaps if you hurry back?” Constance suggested.

“Can’t promise,” Nick said. He cupped Amanda’s elbow and the two of them hurried out of the room.

“Remember there’s the rehearsal tonight,” Constance called. “And supper.”

“Don’t worry, Mother, I’ll be there.” Nick led Amanda through the house to the foyer, stopping at the foot of the grand staircase. “Get your things.”

“You’re serious?” she asked, a little breathless. “You’ll really get me out of this house today?”

“Sure.”

Amanda gave him a saucy little grin. “You, Nick Hastings, are my new best friend.” She turned, hiked up her dress and sprinted up the stairs.

Nick watched her, trying to remember why he’d avoided going to San Francisco for so many years.

He wondered, too, how he was going to keep Amanda Van Patton from going back.

Chapter Five

Amanda dashed into her bedchamber. “I need a hat!”

“What’s got you all fired up?” Dolly asked.

“I’m going out,” Amanda said, crossing to the closet. “With Nick.”

“Oh, my word. I knew it,” Dolly declared, pushing ahead of her and opening the closet door.

Amanda stilled. “It’s nothing like that. He’s simply taking me out to see the city. That’s all.”

Dolly nodded wisely as she pulled down a hatbox from the shelf. “That’s all? Uh-huh. Sure it is.”

Amanda pried off the top and lifted out the wide-brimmed hat, decorated with flowers and bows. She hurried to the mirror over the dresser and pinned it in place.

“Is this the same Mr. Nick that you intended to keep your distance from not an hour ago?” Dolly asked.

Amanda glanced at the maid’s reflection in the mirror. “He’s just being a kind host, that’s all.”

Dolly studied her for a minute, then nodded slowly. “All right. I reckon you know what you’re doing. Besides, can’t say that I blame you, good-looking as he is.”

Amanda checked herself in the mirror one last time, then scooped up her handbag and headed for the door.

“You just watch yourself,” Dolly called.

The sobering words rang in Amanda’s head as she stepped into the hallway. Dolly was right. Nick had hurt her once before. Hurt her deeply, so deeply that some of the pain still lived with her today, all these years later.

“You sure you want to do this?” Dolly asked, walking to the doorway.

Amanda considered the question. Perhaps she should tell Nick that she’d changed her mind and didn’t want to go with him today.

Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

“I’ll be fine,” she declared.

Still, the idea caused her stomach to knot as she walked down the hallway. But the alternative meant spending the day with Cecilia and Constance, discussing the wedding. Amanda couldn’t bear that.

Nor could she bear standing at the window watching Nick drive away without her.

“Be cautious,” Amanda mumbled aloud as she reached the top of the staircase. She could do this, she told herself. She could spend the day with Nick without letting her feelings run away with her. She’d keep herself in check.

Somehow.

Amanda heard footsteps behind her in the hallway and, fearing it was Cecilia or Constance with a dire wedding crisis, hurried down the steps. At the bottom, she stopped. Nick wasn’t there.

Had he already gone? What if he’d changed his mind and left without her?

A cold shiver passed through her. Old memories popped into her mind. Feelings of being young, newly arrived at her aunt and uncle’s mansion. Not fitting in. Not being as worthy as everyone around her. Not being good enough…for Nick.

Amanda gave herself a shake, pushed her chin up and crossed the foyer. Of course she was good enough. Now. She hadn’t been back then, when she was little more than a child, uncomfortable in her new life. But she’d learned how to conduct herself, and she did, in fact, fit in quite nicely.

She opened the front door and stepped out into the bright morning sunlight. The Hastingses’ carriage waited at the foot of the steps and Nick stood beside it. Amanda felt her heart lurch, seeing him there waiting for her.

And because he looked so tall and handsome, Amanda’s own words of warning sped through her mind again. Be cautious.

“All set?” Nick asked.

She stopped beside him. “Thank you for masterminding my escape today.”

He smiled. “What are best friends for?”

Warmth rushed up Amanda’s arm as she lay her fingers in his palm and accepted his assistance into the carriage. He climbed in after her and took the opposite seat.

When the carriage swung out of the driveway and onto West Adams Boulevard, Amanda sat back and tried to relax. It wasn’t easy with Nick so close and her heart beating faster than normal.

“It’s quite lovely here,” Amanda said, peering at the passing neighborhood from beneath her wide-brimmed hat.

The West Adams district had become as famous as New York’s Fifth Avenue, and Nob Hill, where Amanda’s uncle made their home. Wide, tree-lined boulevards, wrought-iron and stone fences fronted the magnificent homes of some of the finest families in the city. Here, standards were set by people of affluence and wealth.

“My parents selected the site and designed the house,” Nick said. “Father died shortly after construction began.”

“He never got to live here?”

“No.” Nick smiled gently. “But the house makes us all think of him.”

Amanda turned back for a last glance at the Hastingses’ home. A three-story structure with scrollwork and gingerbread, a witch’s cap and onion dome, the house was painted ivory with deep blue and maroon trim. It was a grand home, and a fine legacy left by Nick’s father.

“Don’t you want to know where we’re going?” Nick asked.

“Not really,” Amanda said, and smiled. “I trust you.”

“Now you’ve really put me on the spot,” Nick replied, and gave her the same devilish smile she’d seen earlier.

That smile wound its way through Amanda and settled around her heart. If Nick got much more handsome, or smiled at her again, she didn’t know how she’d bear it.

Maybe she shouldn’t have come with him today, she thought again. Regardless of how dreadful another day of wedding preparations sounded, perhaps she should have stayed at the house and endured it, somehow. She’d come to Los Angeles with the intention of keeping her distance from Nick, knowing it was best for her. Dolly had been right to remind her of that. Now here she sat, facing a day alone with him.

Once more, Amanda cautioned herself to stay on guard, lest she lose herself completely in Nick’s green eyes.

They rode in silence for a while, and that seemed to suit Amanda, Nick noted. He studied her face, turned toward the window so she could watch the passing scenery. Unlike so many other women, she didn’t chatter about this or that, or feel the necessity to fill every moment with conversation.

Usually, that would have pleased Nick. Having lived with females his whole life, he thought that, in general, they talked too much. But now, with Amanda, it made him wonder what she was thinking.

Certainly, it wasn’t anything remotely related to what he was thinking.

“Amanda, you’re really very—”

Pretty, he’d intended to say. But when she turned to him and he saw that look of tired expectation on her face, it occurred to him that people probably told her she was pretty all the time—because she was. Nick didn’t want to be like everyone else.

“Smart,” Nick said. “You’re really very smart.”

She smiled then, a genuine, heartfelt smile that Nick was sure she seldom shared with anyone. He was inordinately pleased that he’d elicited it from her.

“The way you took care of that problem with Cecilia this morning,” he continued. “You were the only one who seemed to have a handle on the situation.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “All my wedding experience came in handy for something.”

“What do you do with your time when you’re not being dragged into everyone else’s weddings?” Nick asked.

“Volunteer work, mostly.”

Any other woman would have rattled off a list of clubs she belonged to and decorating projects she’d completed. But Amanda wasn’t just any woman, Nick was fast learning.

“What sort of volunteer work?”

She seemed surprised that he’d asked. “Three days a week I work at churches, preparing meals and serving indigents. Twice a week I visit the orphanage.”

“You enjoy doing that?” he asked.

“It breaks my heart, seeing the children.” Amanda looked at him, tears instantly welling in her eyes.

Nick nearly bolted across the carriage to hold her, comfort her. He’d never felt a desire so strong in his entire life.

Amanda blinked her tears away. “But I can’t stay away.”

“Has this got something to do with that women’s refuge you mentioned earlier?”

“Yes, it does,” Amanda said. “So often women don’t have the skill or knowledge to support themselves and their children when their husband leaves them or passes away. I want to provide a place where they can live while they get on their feet and learn how to provide for their children.”

Nick just stared at her. Good Lord, who was this woman—this Amanda Van Patton? Where had she been all his life?

“That’s an incredible idea,” he finally managed to say.

“Thank you.” She smiled softly, and Nick’s heart melted a little.

For the first time, he wondered what would have happened to his own family if things had been different when his father died. What if he’d been a boy, unable to take over the family business? Would his mother have known what to do? Where would she have gotten the help and guidance she needed to provide for their family?

“So, when are you starting this project?” Nick asked.

“As soon as I raise the money.”

“What about your uncle Philip? He’d support your cause.”

“I don’t want to ask him,” Amanda said. “It’s a losing proposition, never intended to show a dime of profit. I can’t expect him to spend his own money on it. Besides, I’d like the community to get involved, to realize what’s happening and take part in solving the problem.”

“That’s a tall order.”

She sat a little straighter on the seat and gave him a brisk nod. “I have a plan.”

He grinned. “Really?”

“I plan to stage a number of events for San Francisco’s wealthy families to raise awareness of the situation and drum up support. Once I’ve secured the funds, I’ll start on the refuge,” Amanda said. “I need a building large enough to accommodate women and their children. It will require a kitchen, sitting rooms, a playroom for the children, and a place where they can receive medical care. I’ll also require space so the women can receive training for the jobs they’ll need to eventually become self-reliant. I want a safe location near schools, parks and churches.”

She paused and blushed slightly. “Well, that’s my plan.”