Gayle Buck (12 page)

Victoria’s brown eyes danced. “I see. Her sobriquet must be something of a trial to Mrs. Giddings.”

Evelyn shrugged. “I imagine rather that she takes pride in it. After all, it gains her the attention she craves. I pitied Peter, you know. I doubt if he felt a moment’s security about his wife’s loyalty once his old bachelor uncle married.”

“Whatever do you mean?” asked Victoria curiously despite herself.

“Only that Peter’s worth as a husband dropped tenfold in Margaret’s eyes. He had been heir to the old man’s title and wealth. That all ended when the old gentleman suddenly married a woman years younger than himself and begat a son,” said Evelyn.

“Surely you are not serious!” exclaimed Victoria. “Marrying for convenience is common, of course, but to be so cold-blooded ...”

Evelyn laughed. “Cousin Victoria, my sister-in-law was definitely among that number. From her point of view it was a very convenient match. Peter was young, handsome, and well off in his own right. And one day he was certain to inherit a tide. But she did not count on fate intervening in her happiness so thoroughly. Margaret has been out of widow’s weeds for three years now. I suspect she has taken the time not only to lick her wounds but to choose her next husband more carefully.” His eyes held a speculative gleam as he gazed at the couple moving ahead of them past the various portraits. “St. Claire embodies everything that Margaret desires, except for his well-earned reputation. But now he is to be the next Earl of March, I wonder if the one counterbalances the other?”

Victoria had listened to Evelyn in horrified fascination. “Evelyn, I cannot believe that you speak this way of your own sister-in-law, and to a comparative stranger at that!”

“You’re one of the family now, cousin, and I know full well that Margaret dislikes you intensely because St. Claire has shown a healthy interest in you,” said Evelyn. The blood rushed to Victoria’s face and he grinned. “I suspect that you are not unaware of the situation.”

“Sometimes, Evelyn, you are uncannily like your father,” said Victoria shortly. He was startled, but not displeased by the comparison.

Lord Damion looked back at them. “Lady Victoria, this next portrait should be of particular interest to you. It is of Charles as a boy.”

Victoria quickly joined him and Margaret before a tall canvas. She looked up at the merry young face and tousled fair hair. She felt shock like a physical blow.

Lord Damion was astonished when Victoria’s face turned chalk white. He saw her sway and swiftly caught her arm. “Lady Victoria! Are you all right?”

Dazed, Victoria looked up at him. Her eyes focused on the hard line of his mouth and she shivered. “Of course, my lord,” she said faintly. “Of course I am.”

Lord Damion stared keenly at her. He had felt her shudder and knew that she operated under some strong emotion that he could not define. “I think that you should sit down.”

Despite Victoria’s feeble protest he took her across the narrow room to seat her on a settee. Evelyn and Margaret trailed along after them. The latter was furious about her rival’s unexpected performance. “I quite admire your sensibility, dear Lady Victoria. It speaks volumes when one is overcome by a childhood portrait of one’s husband,” she said.

Evelyn took his sister-in-law’s arm and firmly led her away. “Come along, Margaret. I’ll show you one of Lord Robert’s great-great-grandmothers who was burned as a witch. Odd, she looked amazingly like you.”

“You are a cad, Evelyn,” said Margaret crossly.

“Thank God,” sighed Victoria. She leaned her head back against the settee and closed her eyes. She felt the cushions give as Lord Damion sat down beside her. He drew her hand into his and she allowed it to rest there.

After a moment or two Victoria straightened and started to pull her hand away. His fingers tightened and she looked up into his piercing eyes. “Pray let me go, my lord,” she said breathlessly.

He did not appear to hear her request. “Why did Charles’s portrait affect you so, my lady?”

Her eyes seemed to look beyond him. “Charles’s hair was dark when I met him. I did not know that he was blond as a child. But his eyes, that expression!” She glanced at him and snapped back to reality. “Forgive me, my lord. I can hardly convey to you how disconcerting it was. I have never seen a portrait of Charles, except in a locket that he gave me.”

“I can understand, I think. The portrait is very well done. You probably felt as though you were seeing a ghost of him,” said Lord Damion. She did not answer. He rose and drew her to her feet. “I believe we have toured enough of the gallery for one afternoon.”

Victoria quickly put a hand on his sleeve. “Oh no! I should very much like to continue.”

He looked at her searchingly. “Are you certain, my lady? You have sustained quite a shock.”

“I am quite recovered, I assure you. I shall not embarrass you again, my lord.”

“I am not so easily embarrassed.” Lord Damion smiled and drew her hand over his elbow. “Very well, madame. I shall treat you to a scandalizing commentary on each and every ancestor who has the misfortune to fall under my stern gaze.”

Victoria laughed. Her eyes dancing, she said, “1 know that I shall find it most edifying, Lord Damion.”

Several paces away from them, Margaret heard her laughter and turned. She frowned at the sight of Lord Damion escorting Lady Victoria slowly down the gallery in the opposite direction. “Come, Evelyn. It is time to rejoin Lord Damion. Lady Victoria is obviously much recovered.” She felt annoyed that she had so greatly underestimated her rival.

Evelyn kept a firm hold on her slim arm. “I think not, Margaret. You’ve done enough damage with your spiteful tongue for one afternoon. You’ll stay with me.”

Margaret’s eyes sparkled like fiery amethysts. “Who are you to order me about?”

Evelyn laughed at her. “Pray do throw one of your spectacular tantrums, Margaret. I should enjoy St. Claire’s expression of disgust.”

Margaret was firmly trapped and she knew it. She stamped her foot in vexation. “You are the vilest creature alive!”

“You will forget all about it once we begin looking at the portraits,“ said Evelyn cheerfully.

“I don’t care a rap about some idiotic ancestral portraits!” exclaimed Margaret wrathfully. Evelyn paid her no heed, but led her further away from Lord Damion and Victoria.

Victoria spent the next hour very pleasantly as Lord Damion regaled her with tales of intrigue and roguery. When they had reached the gallery’s end, she could only shake her head at his inventiveness. “Charles never once let on that he was descended from such a very wicked family,” she said, laughing.

“Ah, even so, we are not entirely without our black sheep, my lady,” said Lord Damion with mock seriousness.

“No?” Victoria asked, suspecting him of further nonsense.

He gestured broadly at the small portrait before them. “Study this old gentleman well, my lady. Take note of his noble brow and compassionate gaze, but do not be fooled. He is still the shame of the family after five hundred years.”

“But whatever did he do?” Victoria asked, astonished by Lord Damion’s perfectly grave words.

“He was called William the Good,” Lord Damion said simply. He was rewarded with a sputtering laugh and grinned at her.

“You quite took me in, my lord!” Victoria said.

Lord Damion raised her hand to his lips. His eyes gleamed with a devilish light. “It is surely to my credit, my lady, as I may claim kinship with this wicked family.’

Under Lord Damion’s compelling gaze, Victoria felt oddly light-headed. She fancied that she was drifting gently into uncharted waters with him and she swiftly sought safe anchorage in the mundane. “I am truly grateful for your understanding, my lord. You have quite chased away any lingering shadows,” she said.

Lord Damion was struck again by the rare beauty that lighted her face when she smiled. He now thought it little wonder that Charles March had given her more than a passing glance. “I am happy to have been of service, Lady Victoria. I wish only that 1 had known my cousin Charles better in recent years. He was obviously a fortunate man in his marriage.”

Victoria lowered her eyes in a momentary confusion. Lord Damion had the most disconcerting habit of paying her a compliment when she was least expecting it. It occurred to her that his charm was but a tool of the trade for a successful rake and the whimsical thought made her smile. His words had reminded her of Lord Robert’s hope of bringing Charles back home through her, and though Victoria could not see her way clear to agree to Sir Aubrey’s proposal, there was perhaps another way to fulfill Lord Robert’s wishes. “I have Charles’s sketch case containing his last drawings with me. Pray let me present it to you and the rest of the family,” Victoria said.

Lord Damion’s astonishment was plain. “That is generous of you, but we could not take such a keepsake from you, my lady!”

Victoria shook her head. “My lord, I have many other drawings that Charles did.” She touched his sleeve and met his grave look with an earnest air. “It would give me great satisfaction, my lord. Pray allow me to give at least that much of Charles back to his family”

Lord Damion carried her hand to his lips. “Your generosity does you credit, Lady Victoria. I accept your gift in humble gratitude and I know that we shall all want to study Charles’s sketches closely.”

“What’s that you say, St. Claire? Has Cousin Victoria actually brought some of Charles’s sketches with her?” Evelyn asked.

Lord Damion and Victoria turned at Evelyn’s query to find him and Margaret approaching. Lord Damion unhurriedly stepped back a pace from Victoria. “Yes, Evelyn. Lady Victoria has generously offered to present Charles’s sketch case with his last drawings to the family.”

“Oh, I say! That’s famous!” exclaimed Evelyn. His eyes were alight when he turned to Victoria. “When can we view them, cousin?”

An expression of annoyance crossed Margaret’s face at this fresh bid for attention from Lady Victoria. The woman was really quite clever and was becoming something of an irritant, she thought.

Victoria laughed at Evelyn’s boyish enthusiasm. “I shall ask Mary to unpack the sketch case and while we are at dinner bring it down to the sitting room afterwards.”

Lord Damion drew out his pocket watch and commented that it was already time to change for dinner. Margaret at once claimed his arm. “For I swear that I should be positively lost without someone to guide me back to the main hall, my lord,” she said with a little laugh.

Lord Damion was willing to act the part of guide and together they exited the gallery, leaving Victoria and Evelyn to trail behind once more. Leaning close to Victoria’s ear, Evelyn said, “I almost wish that I were Margaret’s escort. I could have shown her such a roundabout way that she would never have forgotten it.” Victoria only shook her head at him, amused.

Chapter Thirteen

Over dinner, Evelyn announced the treat that was in store for them. Lady Hortense turned to Victoria, who was startled to see tears in her faded blue eyes. “My dear, that is so very generous of you.”

“So it is. I believe that we are all discovering that our new cousin is an unusual woman,” said Lord Damion, a certain warmth in his gaze as he smiled across the table at Victoria.

Seated beside him, Margaret fiddled irritably with the silver bracelet on her wrist. Her sojourn at the Crossing was not going altogether as she had planned. She had hoped to bring Lord Damion to the point of marriage by this time, but instead she had been consistently upstaged by this stranger from Portugal. She critically studied Lady Victoria and wondered, not for the first time, how someone so unremarkable in appearance could prove so skillful a rival. For she hoped she was not such a fool as to believe that Lady Victoria did not cherish hopes of Lord Damion for herself. Lady Victoria had succeeded in stealing the limelight too often for it to have been coincidental. Margaret even had to admit she held grudging respect for the woman. Lady Victoria’s pretense of fainting at the sight of her husband’s childhood portrait had been a masterful stroke. And now there was this business of the sketch case.

Margaret glanced at the handsome profile of the man beside her. No, Lady Victoria undoubtedly saw opportunity when it was before her eyes. Margaret’s soft lips tightened. But however clever Lady Victoria thought herself to be, she would not walk away with the prize. Margaret intended to see to that. She had taken great pains with her attire for that evening. She was wearing a gown of watered silk that perfectly matched the violet of her eyes and that clung enticingly to her exquisite figure. Margaret, not trusting the maid given her, had herself dressed her hair in a cascade of gleaming black curls that brushed over one bare shoulder. She was satisfied that no sketch case could possibly draw attention away from her.

Margaret touched Lord Damion’s sleeve to gain his attention. On the pretense of directing an amusing tale to his ear alone, she leaned slightly forward so that he could not fail to notice her cleavage.

As he listened, Lord Damion’s eyes strayed occasionally from Margaret’s animated face to the revealing cut of her gown. Under his gaze her smooth rounded bosom rose and fell slowly, stirring him. It was not the first time since coming to the Crossing that Lord Damion admitted to himself that Margaret Giddings attracted him. He had known almost from the first that she would not spurn his advances if he cared to approach her. But for some reason he could not explain, he had held back. Perhaps it was because the excitement of the chase was missing.

Down the table Sir Aubrey could not fail to note the lengthy animated conversation between his nephew and Margaret Giddings. He did not bother to hide his irritation. “Damn the woman!” he uttered softly as his sharp eyes saw the direction of Lord Damion’s glance. He thought he could guess what was on his nephew’s mind.

Sir Aubrey turned glittering eyes on Lady Victoria. Surely she could see what was happening. If she didn’t pay attention, the Giddings woman was going to outplay her. He saw Victoria glance at the couple across the table. Then she must have felt his gaze because she looked straight at him. Sir Aubrey was astonished by the amusement in her dark eyes. Lady Victoria turned to address a remark to Lord Damion and Margaret Giddings, effectively joining in their conversation. Observing it, Sir Aubrey could not help the faint upward turn of his mouth. He thought he had just witnessed one of the smoothest maneuvers of his wide experience.