“I might have,” he agreed smoothly, “except that a man should not be required to knock upon his wife’s door.” He glanced at Danielle. “Mam’selle, if you would …?”
“Danielle!” Amanda wailed.
But Danielle was gone. Eric approached the bed. The little girl’s mouth had gone slack. Her eyes were closed. Eric reached for her, swathing her in the blanket, setting her with care and skill upon his shoulder. His large bronzed hand looked mammoth against the child.
He glanced her way. “I do believe that they are supposed to burp this way.”
Amanda nervously closed her gown, setting her infant son upon her own shoulder, patting the little back. She kept watching Eric, but he paid her little heed, giving his attention to their daughter. He did not look at her when he spoke at last. “I should like to call her Lenore.”
“That was—”
“Your mother’s name, yes. Does that suit you?”
“Yes,” she said softly. “And—our son?”
“Jamie,” he said huskily. “A Jamie Cameron began life in a new land. This Jamie Cameron will begin life in a new country.”
“The war has not been won,” Amanda observed.
His eyes fell upon her coldly. She lifted her chin, not wanting to fight, not knowing how not to do so. “And with what you said to me when we last met, I had doubts you would claim them as your own,” she murmured.
She held her breath, awaiting his answer. She so desperately wanted him to disclaim his words, to vow some small word of love to her.
His eyes stayed upon her. “As this is March eleventh, I daresay the timing is quite right since our last—encounter.”
Tears stung her eyes. She refused to shed them. “I wish that they were not yours!” she lied softly.
He stiffened, his back to her. “Ah, my dear wife! And you claimed to love me so the last time that we met!” She was silent. He turned to her. He set the baby down carefully in one of the cradles that had been brought and came to stand beside her. She nearly flinched when he reached down to touch her hair. He did not miss her reaction. He picked up his son even though a sound of protest escaped her. “The lad sleeps,” he said. With Jamie Cameron set in his cradle, Eric came back to her again.
He reached into his frock coat and produced a small velvet box. He withdrew a ring from it and took her hand. She tugged upon her fingers but he held fast. A second later a stunning emerald surrounded by diamond chips was set upon her third finger. “Thank you,” he said very softly, and it was the tone of voice that could set her heart to shivering, her very soul to trembling. She wanted so badly to reach out and stroke his face. No matter how tender his words, she dared not. “I did not mean to be so crude. I do, however, live sometimes for the day when I might meet Lord Tarryton once again. You forget, I discovered you once within his arms.”
A smile escaped her. “And rescued me from them, if I recall.”
“Yes, but I admit, I cannot forget that you loved him, and fears have often tormented my dreams. But I thank you for my children—healthy twins were far more than I dared dream. I would that they had been born at home—”
“You sent me here.”
“Aye, and I would bring you home now. But, Amanda, you must swear to me that you will no longer betray my cause.”
“I did not betray your cause—”
“I ask you for the future.”
She lowered her head, feeling the urge to burst into” tears. He still did not believe her. He had always been there for her, even in the midst of childbirth! But he did not believe her, and she knew of no way to heal their breach.
“I will not betray you, I swear it,” she said softly.
His knuckles rested upon her cheek. He opened his mouth as if to speak. She turned her head aside. “This is a travesty of a marriage, is it not? When you loved me, I did not love you. Then I loved you—and you did not love me. There is nothing now, is there?”
His hand fell and he walked away from the bed. She heard the door open, and yet he hesitated. “Aye, there is something,” he said. Her eyes rose to his. Cobalt fire, they fell upon her, and touched her flesh and blood and entered deeply inside of her. “For you are mistaken. I have loved you since I first laid eyes upon you, milady, and I have never ceased to love you.”
The door closed. She was alone.
XVII
It was several days before Amanda saw Eric again. Although she pondered his words endlessly when she was awake, it seemed that she was often exhausted in those first days. Danielle assured her that producing live, healthy twins was no easy task and that she deserved her rest. And in those days, countless gifts came to her, from the Comte de la Rochelle, from Benjamin Franklin, and even from the young king and queen. Marie Antoinette sent her Flemish lace christening gowns, as beautiful and opulent as the Palace of Versailles. While she was still abed, the twins were taken to be baptized, in an Episcopal ceremony, although the French royal court was devoutly Catholic. Though no one dared say it to Amanda, infant mortality was high, and so the ceremony was quickly arranged. Danielle stood as godmother to both infants, while Amanda was delighted to have Ben Franklin stand as their godfather.
By the end of a week she was feeling much stronger, and though she had been offered a young wet nurse by the court, she was determined to care for both of her babies herself. It was trying but greatly rewarding, and she could not forget for a moment how deeply she had feared that she would never have children.
