Gayle Buck (9 page)

Victoria quietly thanked Lord Damion when he had seated her on the sofa, expecting him to withdraw. Instead he asked, “May I fix you a plate, my lady?” A smile lurked at the corner of his sensual mouth that Victoria found difficult to ignore.

She glanced over at the buffet that the footmen had set out before silently exiting. The sight of cold jellies, meats, and cheeses awakened a rumbling in stomach. She realized with surprise that it was far past the dinner hour. “I would be most grateful, my lord,” she said.

Lord Damion served a plate for himself and another for Victoria, then returned. Victoria accepted the plate piled high with food and a glass of wine. “Thank you, my ford, but I hardly know where to begin,” she said with a laugh.

“It is likely all we will get this night, my lady,” said Lord Damion warningly. Victoria was astonished when he elected to sit beside her on the sofa. She could not imagine why he had suddenly attached himself to her.

Sir Aubrey settled stiffly into a wingback chair while Evelyn chose to stand at the mantel, where he began eating with great gusto. Sir Aubrey watched him with glowering eyes. “Well, sirruh, what do you mean by traveling with that puling wife of yours in the family way?” he demanded.

Evelyn threw back his head defensively, his expression darkening. But before he could reply, Lord Damion said smoothly, “Dorothea is willful in her own quiet fashion, sir, as well you know. Evelyn, how was Doro when you left her?”

“She was resting. The pains are gone,” said Evelyn shortly. He threw his father a darkling look. “My aunt, who is staying beside her tonight, seems to think that Doro will be fine.”

“I am certain that the doctor will confirm her opinion when he arrives,” said Lord Damion. He suddenly smiled at Victoria and she felt a momentary leap in her pulses. “Forgive my manners, Lady Victoria. I do not believe that you have been properly introduced to my cousin.”

“We have met. My aunt made a rather hurried introduction and mentioned how you…befriended the lady.” Evelyn nodded stiffly to Victoria. She saw his glance travel to Lord Damion before returning to her and she was startled by the unfriendliness in his stare. “I stand in your debt for your support to my wife, madame. However, I find St. Claire’s decision in bringing your person to a family gathering both ill-timed and insulting.”

Chapter Nine

Victoria was taken aback by Evelyn St. Claire’s attack. Then she understood that he had mistaken her for Lord Damion’s mistress and swift blood rose in her face.

The others apparently had no difficulty deciphering his meaning either. “Evelyn!” thundered Sir Aubrey. He half rose from his chair, his face purpled with rage.

Even through her embarrassment, Victoria could still look at Sir Aubrey in surprise. He had had no compunction about insulting her himself and she found it paradoxical that he should protest when someone else did so.

“You have mistaken the matter, Evelyn,” said Lord Damion in a hard voice. “Lady Victoria is Charles’s widow. She is in England to visit the Belinghams, only to find them away from home. She has graciously accepted our uncle’s invitation to reside at the Crossing until their return and allow us the opportunity to come to know her.”

“Nevertheless the lady arrived in your company, cousin, and that must make any explanation suspect,” said Evelyn.

“You damned insulting—You’ve all the manners of a mongrel whelp, sirrah!” exclaimed Sir Aubrey harshly.

Evelyn’s lip curled. He shot back quickly, “It is hardly any secret from whom I have inherited the mongrel!”

Victoria rose hastily. “I think it past time for me to retire. Good night, gentlemen.” She made for the door and her escape, only to find Lord Damion beside her. She turned toward him, her chin lifting.

He opened the door. “Allow me to escort you, Lady Victoria,” said Lord Damion.

‘Pray do not, my lord.” Victoria left the sitting room.

As Lord Damion turned from the door, he eyed his young cousin with a grim expression. “Evelyn, I believe it is time for you and me to have a discussion.”

Victoria entered her room, her shoulders drooping with fatigue. She saw that the fire was banked in the grate and the bedcovers had been turned back invitingly. She sighed with weary appreciation. There were advantages to having a lady’s maid. She let the cashmere shawl slide to the floor and unbuttoned her cuffs as she approached the bed.

A movement in the dark corner of the room brought her up short. A woman stepped out of the shadows. Victoria recognized her with amazement. “Mrs. Giddings!”

Her visitor laughed softly. “I hope I did not startle you overmuch, Lady Victoria. My room is close by and I thought I would step in for a chat with you before I retired.”

Victoria had had time to absorb the woman’s revealing silk and lace peignoir and the long plait of black hair laid artistically over a slim shoulder. Victoria doubted that the charming effect was for her benefit. “I hope that I have not kept you waiting long,” said Victoria dryly, and thought it was a wonder the woman’s teeth were not chattering with cold.

Mrs. Giddings smiled and with languid familiarity caressed the corner post of the bed. “I do hope that you will forgive my faux pas earlier this evening in mistaking you for a servant. I understand from my maid that you actually arrived with Lord Damion.” She looked Victoria up and down before saying insultingly, “His taste has dramatically changed.”

Victoria stiffened. “You have mistaken the matter, Mrs. Giddings.”

Margaret laughed softly, watching as her fingers moved slowly over the bedpost. “Oh, I think not. Lord Damion does not travel with female boon companions. No, you are one of his fancies or soon will be.”

“Really, Mrs. Giddings!”

Her hand dropping from the post, the woman turned suddenly on Victoria. Dying firelight reflected the bright hardness of her eyes. “Allow me to deliver a friendly word of advice, Lady Victoria, or however you choose to style yourself. The Demon is accustomed to fire and beauty in his women. For the sake of your pride, leave the Crossing before he discovers how bored he is by you. For believe me, he will be!”

Victoria had had enough. She went to the bedroom door and wrenched it open. “Pray leave my room, Mrs. Giddings.”

Margaret regarded Victoria for a moment, amused by her obvious anger. She walked to the door, only to pause on the threshold to caress the cool silk covering her firm breast. “Do you not think rose becomes me? It is Damion’s favorite color, you know,” she said softly. Then she walked away.

Victoria was stunned by the woman’s blatant rudeness. She closed the door with a snap and leaned against it a moment, trying to collect herself. Her glance fell on the bed and she came away from the door. It was certainly of no benefit to stand here all night. Victoria stripped to her chemise and slid into bed.

But sleep eluded her as her thoughts returned again and again to her experiences of the last two days. She realized that from the moment she made herself known to Lord Damion she had been subjected to abuse and outrageous conduct by members of Charles’s family. Lord Damion and Sir Aubrey thought of her as a fortune hunter, to be manipulated as it pleased them. Evelyn St. Claire had instantly leaped to the conclusion that she was his cousin’s mistress, an opinion shared by Margaret Giddings who obviously saw her as a rival for Lord Damion’s favors. Victoria thought that probably even kind Lady Hortense assumed that she had come to the Crossing to demand that provision be made for her support.

It particularly disgusted Victoria that the male members of the family had assumed that once she was exposed to Lord Damion’s charm she would be more than willing to tumble into bed with him. Lord Damion himself apparently believed in his own reputation. Victoria recalled that he had been astonished at their first meeting when she did not react immediately to his name. She wondered what exactly he had anticipated and a vision of Margaret Giddings came to mind. Victoria grimaced to herself.

The one member of the family who had treated her with any degree of unsuspicion had been Dorothea, who had wanly accepted her support and thanked her for her concern. Victoria wondered somewhat bitterly if that lady’s sweet temper would disappear as she regained her strength. She was, after all, Margaret Giddings’s sister.

Victoria wished there were some means she could use to show them all up for fools. If she could but prove that she was not interested in Lord Damion or his position, that alone would suffice to disconcert the gentlemen and Mrs. Giddings.

Victoria stared at the ceiling. She could easily prove it if she pretended to fall in with Sir Aubrey’s scheme. With that one stroke all concerned would believe that they had been correct about her character.

Halfway believing that she could hear Charles’s hearty amusement at her thoughts, Victoria smiled to herself in the dark. She was tired and thinking foolishly. She stretched her arms over her head and snuggled deeper into the pillow.

Chapter Ten

Victoria and Margaret Giddings met on the stairs on their way to breakfast. They exchanged cool nods but neither felt inclined to start up a conversation.

When they entered the breakfast room, they discovered Evelyn and a gentleman in a black frock coat already seated at the table, addressing steaming mugs of coffee while they conversed in low voices.

Evelyn looked up and gave the ladies a general greeting. “And see, here is good Chatworth at last. He has already been up to see Doro and pronounces her right as rain.”

The physician rose to bow to the ladies as they seated themselves, then turned to remonstrate with Evelyn. “Master Evelyn, pray recall that I also prescribed quiet and no strenuous activity for your young wife.”

“She shan’t like that part above half, you know,” said Evelyn.

“Come, Evelyn! Such a regimen will pose little difficulty for Doro. She has never liked excitement,” said Margaret as she made her selections from the plate of sweet biscuits. “Doro prizes the country and her little dogs above all else. I have often wondered how she bears such a boring existence.”

Evelyn flushed and Victoria quickly interposed. “I am happy that it has all turned out for the best. I see that your coat is still damp, Dr. Chatworth. Was it raining again when you came?”

The physician laughed. “I am not damp from rain, my lady, but the dunking I took at the crossing. I fear that I am not an accomplished horseman. My brute slipped and over I went.”

“Is the stream still so flooded then?” asked Victoria with surprise. “I had quite thought it would have begun to subside by now.

“It is usually a couple of days before the low place is down. We won’t see anyone from the village besides Chatworth for at least that long,” said Evelyn.

“Evelyn, do you mean that I am stranded here for yet two days more without my dresser? How am I to go on, pray? The stupid girl I have been given is a clumsy fool. She twice pulled my hair while brushing it this morning,” said Margaret.

“You are well enough, Margaret,” Evelyn said, and then somewhat clumsily attempted a reassuring compliment. “Indeed, rusticating seems to become you.”

“Pray do not be an ass, Evelyn,” said Margaret crushingly.

Dr. Chatworth coughed and discreetly excused himself, saying that Sir Aubrey had requested that he look in on him before his departure. When he left the room, Evelyn addressed his sister-in-law. “Do you know, Margaret, if you were not Doro’s sister, I would swiftly drop you from my circle of acquaintances. You have never met Chatworth in your life and you go out of your way to prove yourself a shrew.”

Margaret gave a peal of laughter. “Why should I care what a country quack may think?” she said scornfully. “And you flatter yourself, Evelyn. It is I who suffer the connection between us. Believe me, I don’t care two sticks for your opinion.”

Evelyn leaned back in his chair. Victoria, observing the sudden cynicism that chilled his eyes, was struck by his strong resemblance to Sir Aubrey. “Well I know whose opinion you do care for, Margaret. It was not sisterly concern that decided you to quit London and accompany us, as Doro prefers to believe, but whom you might encounter here at the Crossing.”

Margaret stiffened and threw a swift glance in Victoria’s direction. “That is quite enough nonsense, Evelyn. We are in company.”

Evelyn turned to Victoria. “Cousin Victoria, my dear sister-in-law grows restless with her widowed state and I suspect that she has designs on poor Cousin Damion. Should we warn him, do you think?”

“Evelyn, I believe you are upsetting Mrs. Giddings,” said Victoria, taking note of their companion’s whitened face.

Margaret rounded on her. “I hardly need your championship, my fine lady. As for you, Evelyn, you show lack of breeding with every breath.” She threw down her napkin and sailed to the door.

“By the by, St. Claire usually rises an hour earlier,” called Evelyn. His sister-in-law checked herself in midstep, then whisked out of the room.

Chuckling, Evelyn turned back to meet Victoria’s steady gaze. Immediately he became shamefaced. “My pardon, Lady Victoria, for my behavior last night. After you had retired, St. Claire made everything quite clear how you came to be in his company. I could scarcely credit that he had abducted you. His conduct was outrageous, even for the Demon. I made certain he understood my feelings about that, believe me. At all events, my own assumptions were totally unwarranted. I hope you will accept my humble apologies.”

“I don’t know that I should,” said Victoria frankly.

“I realize the light in which I appear. I didn’t believe St. Claire at the first because— The thing of it is, I thought it all a hum that Cousin Charles had married. Indeed, with his shocking reputation ... but Charles was a smashing fellow, I only wish that I had known him better,” said Evelyn, his bright blue eyes sincere.

Victoria felt herself slightly mollified by his ingenuous explanation. “I appreciate your apology, Mr. St. Claire.”

Evelyn recognized that he had almost won her over. “Pray call me cousin. We are family now, after all,” he said, real warmth in his voice. A boyish grin lightened his too serious countenance. “Please, Lady Victoria.”