He sighed, then lifted one hand to scrub across his face again. The movement lifted the cotton sheets—not the silk in her suite—and revealed his delicious chest and arm muscles. She knew she shouldn’t admire him, not at this moment, but how could she not?
There was something in her throat. “And you’ll come with me, won’t you—to Effinghell?”
“I think…” He dropped his arm and met her gaze. “I think I ought to visit my parents in York. I’ll hire you a carriage with trusted men.”
Her nod was jerky, her heart was breaking. Amanda stumbled backward, reaching for the door knob, praying she could make it back to her suite before the tears erupted.
It was a vain hope.
“Goodbye, Hiro,” she whispered, yanking open his door and throwing herself into the corridor.
Luckily she remembered the way back to her floor, because she could barely see in the near-darkness and wasn’t helped by her blinding tears. Her heart felt as if it had fallen into a million pieces, but she forced herself to hold onto hope.
Hiro hadn’t said he was giving up onthem. He hadn’t even given up on their grand adventure; he’d only said he was visiting his parents.
So why did it feel as if one part of their lives was ending?
Perhaps it was.
Amanda clutched her robe closed, hand on the wallpaper to help her find her way, and forced her breathing to slow, her sob to quiet.
Things weren’t over yet, not entirely.
The Epiphany was still a few weeks away, which meant she had weeks until the end of the Christmas season to hold onto that prayer.
The Christmas season…and the legend of Hearthwell awaited her.
CHAPTER 7
On the night before Christmas, Amanda lost herself in the soft sounds of the carols, as she moved fromSilent NightintoOh Come All Ye Faithful, the piano keys familiar and yet…different. How long had it been since she’d played? Ages, it seemed, but the music was comforting.
Her mother had forced her and her sister Amelia—sometimes with dire threats of going without pudding—to practice music as girls, telling themgentlemen liked accomplished ladies.
It hadn’t worked.
Amanda had resisted every match her mother and brother had put to her, and Amelia had managed to land her own duke in her own way. Granted, her way involved a chicken and the fact they’d been in love for years, but still. It had worked.
And Amanda?
She knew the man she loved appreciated her music; he’d told her so in Italy, when she’d played for Her Majesty. But that wasn’t the reason Hiro washers. He was hers because he was the only one who saw her for who she truly was, the only one who didn’ttry to control her or tell her she wasn’t proper. He’d spent three years at her side, rescuing her from her own folly, and allowing her to rescue him.
Thatwas why she loved him.
But did he love her?
He hadn’t said so, butsurely…
He’d called himself a whore.
Her right fingers slipped, the note turning discordant as she stared down at the ivory, unable to remember the correct positioning. Wondering if it mattered.
“Amanda,” came the soft call, and Amanda jerked her gaze up to see her sister-in-law Olivia gliding toward the piano. “Thank you for such wonderful accompaniment, but surely you are ready for some refreshments?”
Blinking, Amanda glanced around the sitting room.
This holiday season, her family had been delighted to welcome her to celebrate with them, and she suspected Olivia and Mother had made efforts to impress her. But where the Christmas season should have filled her heart with joy, Amanda’s chest just felt hollow.
Still, she dutifully plastered a smile on her lips and rose when Olivia gestured. “Is it teatime already?”
