Gayle Buck (25 page)

Lady Hortense made inquiries of her son without success. No one had seen him pass and he had not spoken to anyone of his destination. Finally one of the footmen had the inspiration to send down to the stables and an affirmative message came back. He had taken out the stallion, Black Son. The groom privately confided to the messenger that his lordship had looked as black as thunder and had put Black Son to the fence without any hesitation. As for when his lordship would be back, his lordship had not said.

Lady Hortense was forced to be satisfied with this intelligence. She left orders that when Lord Damion did return he was to present himself in her rooms no matter what the hour. Then she went upstairs to her private sitting room to wait.

Lord Damion returned to the Crossing some hours later. He was cold, wet, and tired. He had run Black Son almost to the point of exhaustion. The stallion trembled beneath him and he realized that his fury had nearly led him to ruin the splendid animal. His conscience smote him. He turned his mount homeward and let the stallion fall into a comfortable pace that allowed his thoughts to flow uninterrupted.

Lord Damion had been furious with Victoria, not only for refusing him but also for creating the scene in the hall. It had caused him no small mortification. But as he pondered the scene, a calm despondency settled over him. For the first time in his life a woman had denied him and she was the one woman he had ever truly loved.

By the time that Lord Damion returned Black Son to the stables and received his mother’s message his anger had burned itself out. As he entered the manor he concluded that he had only himself to blame for Victoria’s refusal. He had treated her shabbily from the first. He believed her honest when she admitted to caring for him, but Lord Damion thought his reputation had given Victoria a permanent disgust of him.

It was a subdued man who presented himself in his mother’s sitting room. They spoke a few moments of the weather and his hard ride. Lady Hortense did not ask what had occurred between him and Lady Victoria. She knew that he would tell her in his own time.

Lord Damion fell silent for several minutes. Lady Hortense waited patiently, attending to her embroidery by the candlelight. “I have fallen in love at last, Mama,” he said finally.

Lady Hortense spared him a brief glance over her embroidery hoop. “Indeed, Damion? I knew that one day it would happen.”

He looked quizzingly at her. “You do not appear altogether surprised, ma’am.”

“Allow a fond and alert mother her due, Damion. I have had my suspicions these many weeks.” Lady Hortense paused in her needlework to look up at him. “I am somewhat surprised, though, that it should be Lady Victoria. She is not in your style at all, my son. But perhaps that is the attraction?”

Lord Damion smiled at her. “I own that I do not know. But have I been so obvious, ma’am?”

“I believe only to me,” said Lady Hortense comfortably. “I am most pleased with your choice, Damion. Lady Victoria is a levelheaded attractive young woman of no common sort. I will be most happy to welcome her as my daughter.”

Lord Damion bent his head. “She will not have me.”

At the underlying desperation in his voice, Lady Hortense dropped her needlework. “My dear!”

He looked up and pain shone in his eyes. “I have bungled it beyond repair, Mama. When she refused me, my only thought was that there had to be another man and I went mad with jealousy. My conduct was totally reprehensible.”

“Surely once you apologize—”

Lord Damion leaped up and strode to the mantel. He stared down at the fire. “There is no apology that could possibly excuse me, ma’am!” In his own imagination his bad behavior had assumed devilish proportions. He said hoarsely, “Oh Mama, I am such a fool.”

Lady Hortense stared at Lord Damion’s bowed head. She could not recall ever seeing her self-possessed son so distraught. “Well. You seem to have gotten yourself into a pretty coil, Damion.”

Lord Damion gave a ghost of a laugh and turned. “You have a genius for understatement, my love.”

“I do not mean to give you pain, Damion, but does Lady Victoria return your regard?” asked Lady Hortense hesitantly.

His amusement vanished. “I had believed so. Indeed, she admitted— But I was mistaken.” His mouth twisted. “Lady Victoria’s scruples will not allow her to accept my hand in marriage. I can only suppose that my rakehell reputation has at last totally undone me.”

Lady Hortense had pricked up her ears at hearing of Lady Victoria’s reciprocation and she felt a measure of hope for her son. She picked up her needlework once more. “Nonsense. Lady Victoria wouldn’t give a thought to your reputation if deciding upon marriage. Women don’t, you know. I shall feel her out about it. I’ll warrant that her scruples have to do with something far other than your sordid existence.”

“Mama!”

Lady Hortense looked up at his astonished expression. She said calmly, “I am well aware of how you have chosen to live, Damion.”

He met her eyes for a somber moment of discovery. “I have given you much pain. I most humbly beg your pardon, ma’am.”

Lady Hortense’s faded blue eyes filled. She stretched out her hand to him. Lord Damion grasped her fingers gently and bowed over her hand, saluting her with a kiss. “My dear son. Of course it wounds me that you squander your youth in frivolous dissipation,” said Lady Hortense. “But I am aware that is what society demands of you.”

Lord Damion laughed shortly. “My dear ma’am, if I had aught better to do, I would. The truth is that I suffer from lack of employment. I am too well situated in life for my restless nature.”

“Then you must marry at once. And if Lady Victoria won’t have you, then you must rejoin the army,” said Lady Hortense.

Lord Damion was nonplussed. He finally found his voice. “Have you gone quite mad, Mama?”

“Not at all, Damion. I hope I am practical enough to accept what is best for my son. I have known these many months that you are unhappy. I have observed how keen you are about any news from the Peninsula. You did not think that I could overhear your conversation with Sir Harry, but I caught nearly every word. I think perhaps a little excitement or ... or glory will suit you.”

“War is hardly that, ma’am!” retorted Lord Damion.

“Oh, I believe it is for many men. Otherwise old men would recollect more than they do,” said Lady Hortense with a sad wisdom. “And though I shall miss you and feel anxious on your account, I shall rest easy knowing that I did not keep you tied to my apron strings.”

“You have never attempted to hold on to me, Mama,” said Lord Damion.

“Of course I have. Every mother does,” Lady Hortense said firmly. “Now as to Lady Victoria, I shall try to discover why she is reluctant to marry my son. Then perhaps we shall have a proper wedding before you return to the army, for I feel certain that you shall do so. I doubt that Victoria will mind following the drum once more, do you?”

“You are incorrigible, Mama,” said Lord Damion, laughing at her.

“It is how I keep young. Now do go away, Damion. I have knotted my thread twice in the last hour. Obviously I would do better to retire.”

Lord Damion dutifully bent to kiss her. “Thank you, Mama,” he said softly. He left the sitting room much cheered. He had somehow to discover a way to overcome his lady’s refusal.

After Lord Damion had gone, Lady Hortense sat for a long time before the fire. There was sadness in her eyes that she would never allow to show in public. She knew that she had effectively given her son
carte blanche
about the war. And she feared the consequences.

Chapter Twenty-four

Lord Damion did not place any stock in his mother’s determination to feel out Lady Victoria’s feelings, but he had underestimated her. After dinner the following day and while the gentlemen were still at their wine, Lady Hortense approached Victoria in the drawing room. She asked her to play a favorite tune for her and offered to turn the music. Victoria agreed and as she began to play, Lady Hortense casually began, “I must confess that I find your playing most comforting, Lady Victoria. I wish that after you are done visiting here in the neighborhood, you could visit me at Cresdawn.”

Victoria looked at her with surprise. “Thank you, ma’am. But I really must return home to Lisbon after I leave Belingham Manor. I fear that I shall find my household in complete disarray if I absent myself much longer.”

“It is a pity,” said Lady Hortense with a sigh. “I shall be lonely after Damion returns to the army.”

Victoria’s fingers faltered momentarily. Margaret glanced their way, surprised by Victoria’s mistake, but a moment later she resumed her conversation with Dorothea. “I beg pardon? Surely Lord Damion is not contemplating going to the Peninsula!” said Victoria.

“Oh, but I am certain he will. He is bored to exhaustion by his life here in England so I have urged him to return to the army. I shall be anxious for him, of course. He is my only son, after all. But I thought the excitement might do him good,” said Lady Hortense with a brave smile. She put the corner of a handkerchief to her eyes.

“Oh, my dear ma’am!” Victoria turned to her, holding out her hands.

Lady Hortense gestured hastily as Margaret and Dorothea looked up. “Play, Lady Victoria, do play. I find music to be so sustaining when I am overwrought.”

Victoria did as she was bid, her heart touched by Lady Hortense’s fortitude. “Surely my lord will not leave you in such distress, ma’am.”

“I have told him that he must do what he feels to be his duty. But it would all be so much easier to bear if Damion were married and I had a daughter to support me,” said Lady Hortense, glancing sideways at Victoria. “I should wish for a daughter who was much like you, Lady Victoria. And I know that Damion would never do anything foolish if he had someone waiting for him to return. But knowing how careless Damion can be, I cannot help but wonder—” She broke off and patted Victoria’s arm. “But never mind. In any event, I wished you to know that I do truly think of you as the daughter that I never had, Lady Victoria.”

Victoria went pale. “You compliment me, my lady.”

“Oh no, for I admire you greatly, my dear.” Lady Hortense gently closed the sheet of music. “Thank you, Lady Victoria. Your music has eased my spirits considerably. I see that the gentlemen have come in. Shall we join them?”

“Of course,” said Victoria. She rose from the pianoforte and somehow managed to seat herself beside Dorothea. She listened to the quiet conversation with a semblance of interest, but her thoughts were on Lady Hortense’s confidences.

Victoria was stunned to learn that Lord Damion meant to return to the war. After what Lady Hortense had said about his carelessness and his impulsive character, Victoria very much feared that she herself was the cause of his sudden decision.

When Victoria had refused Lord Damion’s proposal she had been thinking of herself and her own pride. The thought of what would be said about her if she married Lord Damion and the contents of the codicil became known had been galling to her. That the codicil would eventually become known Victoria had no doubts at all. But she now realized that far more was at stake than her pride. She had known for some time that she was in love with Lord Damion and she had made a conscious decision to bear the loss of her own happiness with fortitude. But leaving him behind in England, safe and whole, was far different from knowing that he would be at war. The thought of losing him completely, as she had lost Charles March, was unendurable.

Sir Aubrey, who had heard of the quarrel between Lord Damion and Victoria, regarded her with antagonism. He suspected that she had killed Lord Damion’s interest in her with an overstrong display of temper. His nephew had not addressed her once during the entire dinner and was obviously avoiding her now. Sir Aubrey was seized with bitter disappointment for her stupidity and he made no secret of his displeasure.

Margaret, who more than once glanced at Victoria in escalating frustration as Sir Aubrey exercised his caustic wit, was finally goaded into defending Victoria. Her pointed setdown momentarily silenced Sir Aubrey.

Victoria became aware of the direction of the conversation and was surprised but grateful for Margaret’s unexpected championship. Later, as they went upstairs, she thanked Margaret.

Margaret shrugged. “We may not be fast friends, Lady Victoria, but I hate to stand by when someone is torn to pieces by an old reprobate like Sir Aubrey.” She glanced curiously at Victoria. “That meekness was not your usual style, my lady. What happened to you this evening?”

Victoria smiled and, unwilling to reveal her true thoughts, said, “I had a headache. But I did not feel that I could make my excuses without appearing as though I were in retreat.”

“I shall politely accept that, but I must tell you that I do not believe it for a moment.” Margaret stopped outside
her door and smiled at Victoria with more warmth than was her wont. “I know that you go to look in on Jessica now. I shall wish you good night, Lady Victoria.”

The ladies parted amicably and Victoria went to enter the nursery. She had thought earlier in the day that Jessica appeared a bit flushed and she now wanted to satisfy herself that her daughter was well before she retired.

The nursemaid’s somber expression lightened when she saw Victoria. She rose from her chair. “I am that happy to see you, m’lady. Miss Jessica has been that fretful and asking for you. She has but just dropped off this hour.”

Victoria bent over her daughter’s quiet form and placed a cool hand against her forehead. She was appalled to feel hot, dry skin. It dawned on her that Jessica’s breathing was short and shallow and her small face appeared flushed even in the Firelight. Victoria rounded on the nursemaid. “How long has she had this fever? Why was I not sent for?”

Eliza trembled at the blaze of anger in her ladyship’s voice. “Fever, m’lady?” she stammered. She put her hand on Jessica’s forehead and quickly snatched it away. “Oh, my! M’lady, I did not know. She was but a little warm when I put her down, m’lady, I promise you!”

The nursemaid’s genuine alarm penetrated Victoria’s anger. She put her hand on the girl’s arm. “Forgive me, Eliza. My temper runs away with me. I know that you would not neglect Jessica. Pray ring for Mrs. Lummington immediately. And direct someone to fill the hip bath halfway with lukewarm water, at once.”