Gayle Buck (22 page)

“And that you shall not have, Evelyn,” said Lord Damion, keeping his annoyance in check.

Evelyn heard the note of finality in his hard voice. He stared down at Lord Damion silently for a moment, then said quietly, “I once envied your position in life, St. Claire. I envied your noble birth, your wealth, and, yes, even your reputation. But I find that I regard honor more, and in that I believe I am the better man.”

Lord Damion was stunned. The contempt reflected in Evelyn’s eyes penetrated and wrath kindled within him. He half rose, knocking back his chair. But before he could deliver the blistering snub that formed on his lips, his cousin had turned on his heel and strode out of the library.

Lord Damion stared at the closed door, breathing heavily. His clenched fists slowly relaxed and he dropped back into his chair. Evelyn had undoubtedly gone to join the others for luncheon. He was himself not in the mood for polite company. Lord Damion refilled his wineglass. He had not realized before how he had taken Evelyn’s respect for granted and it galled him that he should smart now under his young cousin’s new found contempt.

As for Evelyn’s accusations, Lord Damion assured himself that he had no intention of offering Lady Victoria a slip on the shoulder. But she attracted him more than had any other woman in several months. A nagging doubt that Evelyn was right in thinking that he was taking advantage of Lady Victoria formed in his mind. But he squelched the thought firmly. Lady Victoria was a woman of the world. She would understand the consequences of a flirtation between them. He was not acting dishonorably in any way. Lord Damion felt a resurgence of anger toward Evelyn for causing him to doubt himself. He tossed back the wine and reached again for the decanter.

Lord Damion realized well enough that he would do better to wait until his displeasure cooled before he rejoined the family. At the moment he felt entirely capable of taking Evelyn to task regardless of who was listening. And Lord Damion preferred to keep the subject of their disagreement private.

* * * *

At luncheon Dorothea found that she could hardly force herself to swallow a mouthful. She had not felt well for several days and had managed to ignore her discomfort fairly well. But even the smell of the barley soup now turned her stomach. When Evelyn entered the dining room and sat down beside her, he immediately noticed that she had merely picked at her plate. “Doro, you need to eat,” he said shortly, still upset by his interview with Lord Damion.

Dorothea interpreted his anger as being directed at her and she flared up defensively. “Pray attend to your own plate, sir, and leave me in peace. I am not a child that must be urged to clear her plate.”

Evelyn stared at her in surprise. “Doro, I merely—”

“Oh, do be quiet! I am wearied to death by your bullying,” said Dorothea. She burst into tears.

“Now see what you have done, sirruh! I’ll thank you to treat that girl with proper respect,” said Sir Aubrey angrily.

Evelyn reddened. “She is my wife, sir. I shall address her however I wish!”

Lady Hortense rose hastily and went around the table to Dorothea. “Come, my dear. You are merely overwrought because of the baby. Let us go upstairs and lie down to rest for a few minutes.” She urged Dorothea up from her chair and supported the weeping young woman from the dining room. Sir Aubrey turned wintery eyes once more on his son.

“Damnation!” exclaimed Evelyn, throwing down his napkin. He flung himself out of his chair and strode out of the room.

The solicitor, who was astonished by the scene, made a distressed noise and rose. “I fear that I must be on my way, Sir Aubrey. If there is anything I may do, you have but to contact me.”

“Yes, yes.” Sir Aubrey waved his hand irritably, his eyes still on the door through which Evelyn had just disappeared. The solicitor shook his head. He bowed to Victoria and Margaret and went out into the hall to ask that his carriage be brought around to the door.

Victoria and Margaret uncomfortably stared at one another. “Well,” said Margaret, and shrugged.

Sir Aubrey turned his gaze on them and snorted in disgust. “Why so grave, ladies? Surely you have heard quarrels before.”

Victoria chose not to hear him. She rose from the table, saying, “Margaret, will you not join me in the drawing room? I believe that we may safely leave Sir Aubrey to his wine.”

“Indeed, and very willingly,” said Margaret, rising in her turn. She followed Victoria out of the dining room.

Over twenty minutes later Lord Damion presented himself in the drawing room. He glanced around. Victoria was at the pianoforte and he hesitated, then approached Margaret instead. She was reading a ladies’ magazine but she glanced up with a welcoming smile. Immediately Margaret saw by the look in his lordship’s eyes and the hard cast of his features that he was in a foul humor. The look of animosity he exchanged with Evelyn, who had come in sometime earlier to play restlessly at billiards, spoke volumes and Margaret wondered what the gentlemen could possibly have quarreled about.

Frowning, Lord Damion sat down beside her on the sofa. She attempted to make light conversation but found him to be unresponsive. Finally, she laid her hand on his sleeve. “My lord, I see that you are distressed. If you will not confide in me as a friend, at least allow me the benefit of your company for a short hour.”

Lord Damion smiled down at her. “What do you have in mind, Margaret?”

“I noticed earlier that the weather has cleared. Perhaps a ride on horseback will refresh you and I would certainly find it invigorating.”

“An excellent suggestion, Margaret,” said Lord Damion, already rising from his place. “I will order up mounts directly.”

Evelyn caught the gist of their conversation. He threw a challenging look at his cousin. “Do you go riding, then? By Jove, I could use the exercise myself. This place is closing in on me today. Victoria, leave off your playing and go change into your riding habit. We are all going riding.”

“What a marvelous idea. It has been too long since I have been on a horse,” said Victoria, her eyes brightening.

“You are naturally welcome to join us, my lady,” said Lord Damion. He gave a short bow to Evelyn, who understood that his presence would be tolerated.

Margaret could only stand by in astonishment as her intimate outing with Lord Damion became all too public. But in the face of Victoria’s swift enthusiasm she could only accept it with grace. “We shall be quite the party, my lord,” she said, summoning up a smile.

“So it appears,” said Lord Damion. He raised Margaret’s hand to his lips. “I shall await you and Lady Victoria at the front steps.”

Chapter Twenty-one

The four met on the frozen gravel in front of the manor. The wind had swept most of the snow in drifts against the house, creating a pretty effect as the sun touched fire to ice crystals. Grooms held mounts ready for them. Victoria was pleased to discover that she was to ride a high-stepping mare. She looked around at Lord Damion. “My lord, I truly thank you. You could not have chosen a more appropriate mount for me.”

He bowed and turned to Margaret, who was pulling her crop through her fingers irritably. “I remembered that you preferred a calmer beast, Margaret.”

“Thank you, my lord. You have always been a most attentive host,” said Margaret throatily. She stood waiting with an expectant air and Lord Damion lifted her into the saddle. Margaret thanked him with an intimate smile.

Victoria turned away sharply. She allowed a groom to help her mount and gathered the reins. Evelyn and Lord Damion were quickly on horseback and the party moved off.

Margaret noticed Victoria’s reaction and mistakenly assumed that she was feeling the smart of wounded pride. She had observed a coolness between his lordship and Lady Victoria in the last several days. She thought that Lord Damion must have made his preferences clear at last and could even find it in her heart to feel compassion for the woman. It was a pity that Lady Victoria had not heeded the warning she had given her so long ago.

Margaret did not dwell long on Victoria’s loss of face as she became more aware of the horse beneath her. She sat the animal with uneasy grace, but felt any lack of skill on her part was more than amply balanced by the ravishing picture she presented. Her dark blue velvet habit was cut close to her exquisite figure and her black hair was tucked up under a small silk hat trimmed with several short white egret feathers. She glanced at Lady Victoria, whose own trim figure was shown to advantage in green velvet and gold braid. Margaret decided that her own toilette was the superior.

The thought put her in a sparkling mood and she contrived to keep Lord Damion beside her with a constant stream of witticisms.

Falling behind the couple, Victoria could not help noticing how easily Lord Damion sat his horse. He moved with his mount as though part of the animal. Victoria glanced over at Evelyn. He was also a good rider but he did not have the same instinct for his horse that Lord Damion had. Victoria glanced again at Lord Damion’s mount, feeling certain that this was the famous Black Son. The stallion was built for power and speed. He was restive, obviously wanting his head, but Lord Damion held him close to a walk.

Evelyn was also studying riding form and was moved to compliment. “The mare definitely knows who her mistress is, cousin. You have an excellent seat. One can see that you have ridden a great deal.”

“I ride a great deal in Portugal, of course. Indeed, Charles and I met while on horseback.” Victoria laughed at the memory. “He had the audacity to haul my mount to a stand from a full gallop. I was furious and determined to lash into him, but Charles teased me into laughter within moments.”

Lord Damion was apparently listening with half an ear to their conversation. “Our cousin was a remarkable man to have braved a woman’s righteous wrath so audaciously,” he said over his shoulder. Evelyn laughed, but Margaret was not amused. She came to the unpleasant realization that she had not had Lord Damion’s undivided attention after all.

The trees around the manor opened out into clear fields. The open dale, swept clean by the wind of all but a powdering of snow, tempted Victoria unbearably. “This glorious day demands a gallop!” she exclaimed. She slapped spurs to the mare’s side and the beast leaped forward in a run across the hard ground. Almost immediately a fence rose up before them and Victoria took it without hesitation.

“Oh, well done! She is a bruising rider,” exclaimed Evelyn admiringly.

Black Son could not stand to see the mare running free ahead of him and pulled testily at the bit in his mouth. “All right, boy,” said Lord Damion. He gave the stallion his head, glad for the excuse for a vigorous gallop. He left Margaret and Evelyn in a thunder of hoofbeats. The black stallion lifted and soared gracefully over the fence to land at full tilt on the far side.

Evelyn whooped and slapped spurs to his mount, preparing to follow.

“Evelyn, do not dare leave me alone!” commanded Margaret shrilly. She was furious that Lord Damion had left her side, but it particularly enraged her that her own riding skills would never allow her to follow Lady Victoria’s outrageous example.

Evelyn heard her as he took the first fence. Reluctantly he reined in, his head turned to watch Lord Damion and Victoria disappear into the distance. He envied them the freedom of their ride.

“Evelyn, I demand that you act the gentleman and open the gates for me,” Margaret said imperiously.

Reluctantly Evelyn turned back toward the fence. “Damn good breeding,” he muttered.

Victoria urged her mount on. She could hear the pounding of hooves grow louder behind her. Then the horse was racing beside her and out of the corner of her eye she saw Lord Damion leaning close over his mount’s withers. She laughed aloud for sheer joy.

Neck and neck the riders raced for a copse of trees. The trunks flashed past on either side, thin at first but swiftly growing denser. Victoria drew rein at last when the low branches became threatening. She turned in the saddle, breathless with laughter. Her eyes glowed and the cold wind had whipped high color into her cheeks. “That was wonderful, my lord!” she exclaimed.

Lord Damion dismounted and tied the blowing stallion to a tree. As he approached her, he was struck by her beauty. Without thinking, he reached up to clasp her around the waist and lift her down from the saddle. Slowly he let her slide close against him to the snow-powdered ground. Victoria was no longer laughing, but stared at him with huge somber eyes.

“Victoria,” he breathed softly. Lord Damion drew her to him and his kiss was at once warm and sensuous. Victoria’s senses reeled with long-denied ardor. His hand slid up to cup her full breast and her body arched against him. He began to undo the buttons on the front of her habit.

Instinctively Victoria put up a shielding hand, but his hand brushed past her fingers to slip inside to caress her naked breast. He raised his head a moment to stare at her with desire in his eyes. His warm breath was ragged on her face.

Victoria pulled down his head and hungrily sought his lips. Lord Damion broke away once more to find the throbbing pulse in her neck. Her head fell back and his mouth once more crushed hers. Victoria wound her arms around his neck, giving him back equal passion.

In the distance a shrill voice cut through Lord Damion’s consciousness. Slowly, reluctantly, he released Victoria. She protested incoherently, then she too heard Margaret’s voice and Evelyn’s impatient answer. She stumbled back from him quickly and Lord Damion left her to retrieve their horses.

Swiftly Victoria buttoned her habit and smoothed her hair, her hands shaking. Before she turned to face Lord Damion, she closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath.

Lord Damion gave her a moment to collect herself before he took the mare over to her. Wordlessly Victoria accepted his help in mounting and then pressed the mare forward. Lord Damion vaulted into his saddle and pulled the stallion around to follow her. They rode silently through the trees until they met up with Evelyn and Margaret at the edge of the copse.