Once and Always (17 page)

Jason’s pantherish eyes gleamed with reluctant amusement as he looked at the defenseless young woman who was simultaneously championing a wolf and mutinously defying him. “I’ll honor it. Now, stop behaving like Joan of Arc.”

“I’m not certain I believe you. Would you swear it to Lord Collingwood as well?”

“You’re pressing your luck, my dear,” Jason warned softly.

Although quietly stated, it had the undeniable ring of a threat, and Victoria heeded it, not because she feared the consequences but because she felt instinctively that Jason would do as he promised. She nodded and moved away, but the dog’s huge body remained poised for attack, its threatening gaze riveted on Jason.

He, in turn, was watching the animal, the rifle still ready at his side. In desperation, Victoria turned to the dog. “Sit down!” she ordered, not really expecting he would obey the command.

The dog hesitated and then sat at her side.

“There, you see!” Victoria threw up her hands in relief. “He’s been well trained by someone. And he knows your gun can hurt him—that’s why he keeps watching it. He’s smart.”

“Very smart,” Jason agreed with dry mockery. “Smart enough to live right under my nose while I, and everyone else for miles around, have been hunting for the ‘wolf’ that’s been raiding chicken houses and terrorizing the village.”

“Is that the reason you go hunting every day?” When Jason nodded, Victoria unleashed a torrent of words, all designed to forestall Jason from saying the dog couldn’t remain on the estate. “Well, he isn’t a wolf, he’s a dog, you can see that. And I’ve been feeding him every day, so he’ll have no reason to raid chicken houses anymore. He’s very smart, too, and he understands what I say.”

“Then perhaps you could mention to him that it’s impolite to sit there waiting for the opportunity to bite the hand that, indirectly at least, has been feeding him.”

Victoria cast an anxious look at her overeager protector and then at Jason. “I think if you reach for me again and I tell him not to snarl at you, he’ll get the idea. Go ahead, reach for me.”

“I’d like to wring your neck,” Jason said, half-seriously, but he grasped her arm as she asked. The animal crouched, ready to spring, snarling.

“No!” Victoria said sharply, and the wolf called Willie relaxed, hesitated, and licked her hand.

Victoria expelled a breath of relief. “There, you see, it worked. I’ll take excellent care of him—and he won’t be the least bother to anyone if you let him stay.”

Jason wasn’t proof against either her courage or the imploring look in those brilliant blue eyes. “Chain your dog,” he sighed. When she started to object, he said, “I’ll have Northrup inform the gamekeepers that he’s not to be harmed, but if he ranges onto someone else’s property, they’ll shoot him on sight. He hasn’t tried to attack anyone, but farmers value their chickens, in addition to their families.”

He prevented further argument by the simple expedient of turning to greet the Earl and Countess of Collingwood, and for the first time, Victoria remembered their presence.

Mortification made her feel hot all over as she forced herself to face the woman Jason apparently regarded as a model of propriety. Instead of the haughty disdain she expected to see on the countess’s face, Lady Collingwood was regarding her with something that looked remarkably like laughing admiration. Jason made the introductions and then strolled away with the earl to discuss some sort of business dealings, heartlessly leaving Victoria to acquit herself as best she could with the countess.

Lady Collingwood was the first to break the uneasy silence. “May I walk with you while you chain your dog?”

Victoria nodded, rubbing her damp palms on her skirts. “You—you must think I’m the most ill-behaved female alive,” she said miserably.

“No,” Caroline Collingwood said, biting her lower lip to control her mirth, “but I think you are undeniably the
bravest
one.”

Victoria was stunned. “Because I’m not afraid of Willie?”

The countess shook her head. “Because you aren’t afraid of Lord Fielding,” she corrected, laughing.

Victoria looked at the stunning brunette in her elegant finery, but what she saw was the mischievous gleam in those dancing gray eyes and the offer of friendship in her smile. She had met a kindred spirit in this seemingly unfriendly country, she realized, and her spirits soared. “Actually, I was terrified,” Victoria admitted, turning toward the back of the house where she had decided to chain her dog until such time as she could convince Jason to let him come into the house.

“But you didn’t show it, you see, and that is a very good thing, because it seems to me that once a male realizes a female is frightened of something, he uses that knowledge against her in perfectly horrid ways. For example, as soon as my brother Carlton realized I was afraid of snakes, he put one in my handkerchief drawer. And before I was quite finished having hysterics over that, my brother Abbott put one in my dancing slippers.”

Victoria shuddered. “I loathe snakes. How many brothers do you have?”

“Six and they all did perfectly wretched things to me until I learned to retaliate in kind. Do you have any brothers?”

“No—a sister.”

By the time the gentlemen finished their business discussion and joined the ladies for an early supper, Victoria and Caroline Collingwood were on a first-name basis and well on the way to becoming fast friends. Victoria had already explained that her betrothal to Lord Fielding was an error made by Charles—but with the best of intentions—and she had talked about Andrew; Caroline had confided that her parents had chosen Lord Collingwood as her husband, but from the things she said and the way her eyes lit up whenever she spoke of him, it was perfectly obvious to Victoria that she adored him.

The meal sparkled with their laughing conversation as Victoria and Caroline continued exchanging confidences and comparing some of their childhood exploits. Even Lord Collingwood contributed stories about his boyhood, and it soon became apparent to Victoria that all three of them had enjoyed carefree childhoods and the security of loving parents. Jason, however, refused to discuss his own youth, though he seemed to genuinely enjoy listening to the stories they were telling of theirs.

“Can you really shoot a gun?” Caroline asked Victoria admiringly while two footmen served trout sautéed in butter and herbs and covered with a delicate sauce.

“Yes,” Victoria admitted. “Andrew taught me how because he wanted someone to give him competition when he shot at targets.”

“And did you? Give him competition, I mean.”

Victoria nodded, the candleglow catching the fiery lights in her hair and turning it into a molten halo. “A great deal of it. It was the most peculiar thing imaginable, but the very first time he put the gun in my hand, I followed his instructions, aimed, and hit the target. It didn’t seem very hard.”

“And after that?”

“It became easier,” Victoria said with a twinkle.

“I liked sabers,” Caroline confessed. “My brother Richard used to let me be his fencing partner. All it takes is a good arm.”

“And a steady eye,” added Victoria.

Lord Collingwood chuckled. “I used to pretend I was a knight of old and joust with the grooms. I did quite well in the lists—but then, the grooms were undoubtedly reluctant to knock a fledgling earl off his horse, so I probably wasn’t as good as I thought I was at the time.”

“Did you play tug-of-war in America?” Caroline asked eagerly.

“Yes, and it was invariably the boys against the girls.”

“But that isn’t fair at all—boys are always stronger.”

“Not,” Victoria said with a laughing, rueful look, “if the girls manage to choose a place where there is a tree and then contrive—very casually—to wrap the rope partway around the tree as they’re pulling.”

“Shameless!” Jason chuckled. “You were cheating.”

“True, but the odds were against us otherwise, so it wasn’t really cheating.”

“What do you know of ‘odds’?” he teased.

“As they pertain to cards?” Victoria asked, her face lit with infectious merriment. “To tell you the shameful truth, I am nearly as adept at calculating the odds of various hands as I am at dealing the cards in such a way as to produce those particular hands. In short,” she admitted baldly, “I know how to cheat.”

Jason’s dark brows drew together in a slight frown. “Who taught you to cheat?”

“Andrew. He said they were ‘card tricks’ he learned when he was away at school.”

“Remind me never to put this Andrew up for membership at any of my clubs,” Collingwood said dryly. “He wouldn’t live to see the next day.”

“Andrew never cheats,” Victoria corrected loyally. “He felt it was important to know how cheating is done, so one can’t be cheated by an unscrupulous gambler—but he was only sixteen at the time, and I don’t think he realized yet he was unlikely ever to meet such a person. .. .”

Jason leaned back in his chair, watching Victoria with fascinated interest, amazed by the gracious ease with which she conducted herself with his guests and the way she effortlessly charmed Robert Collingwood into participating in the dinner table conversation. He noticed the way her face glowed with fondness whenever she spoke of her Andrew, and the way she brought the dining room to life with her smile.

She was fresh and alive and unspoiled. Despite her youth, there was a natural sophistication about her that came from an active mind, a lively wit, and a genuine interest in others. He smiled to himself, remembering her courageous defense of her dog, which she had announced would henceforth be called Wolf, not Willie. Jason had known a few men with true courage in his lifetime, but he had never met a courageous woman. He remembered her shy responsiveness to his kiss and the incredible surge of hot desire she had ignited in his body.

Victoria Seaton was full of surprises, full of promise, he thought, studying her surreptitiously. Vivid beauty was molded into every flawlessly sculpted feature of her face, but her allure went much further than that; it was in her musical laughter and her graceful movements. There was something deep within her that made her sparkle and glow like a flawless jewel, a jewel that needed only the proper background and setting: elegant clothes to complement her alluring figure and exquisite features; a magnificent home where she could reign as its queen; a husband to curb her wilder impulses; a baby at her breast to cuddle and nourish....

Sitting across from her, Jason remembered his old, long since abandoned dream of having a wife to light up his table with her warmth and laughter... a woman to fill his arms in bed and banish the dark emptiness within him ... a woman who would love the children he gave her....

Jason caught himself up short, disgusted with his naive, youthful dreams and unfulfilled yearnings. He had carried them into adulthood and married Melissa, foolishly believing that a beautiful woman could make those dreams come true. How stupid he had been, how incredibly gullible to let himself believe a woman cared about love or children or anything but money and jewels and power. He scowled as he realized Victoria Seaton was suddenly bringing all those old, stupid yearnings back to torment him.

The moment the Collingwoods left, Jason headed straight for the library, where Charles had vanished an hour before.

Charles laid his book aside at once and beamed at Jason. “Did you observe Victoria’s demeanor at supper tonight?” he asked eagerly. “Isn’t she splendid? She has such charm, such poise, such understanding. I nearly burst with pride watching her! Why, she’s—”

“Take her to London tomorrow,” Jason cut in shortly. “Flossie Wilson can join you there for the season.”

“London!” Charles sputtered. “But why? Why must we hurry?”

“I want her away from Wakefield and off my hands. Take her to London and find her a husband. The season begins in a fortnight.”

Charles paled, but his voice was determined. “I think I’m entitled to an explanation for this sudden decision of yours.”

“I gave you one—I want her away from here and permanently off my hands. That’s explanation enough.”

“It isn’t as easy as that,” Charles protested desperately. “I can’t simply advertise in the newspaper for a husband for her. We have to go about it properly—by entertaining and formally introducing her to society.”

“Then take her there and get started.”

Raking his hand through his gray hair, Charles shook his head, trying to dissuade Jason. “My house isn’t in any condition to give lavish parties—”

“Use mine,” Jason said.

“Then
you
can’t stay there,” Charles objected, searching wildly for obstacles to throw in the way of the plan. “If you do, everyone will assume Victoria is another one of your conquests—and a brazen one, to boot. The fact that you’re supposedly betrothed to her won’t carry any weight.”

“Whenever I’m in the city, I’ll stay at your house,” Jason said briskly. “Take my staff from here with you—they can be ready for a party at a day’s notice. They’ve done so before.”

“What about gowns and vouchers to Almack’s and—”

“Have Flossie Wilson take Victoria to Madame Dumosse and tell Madame that I want Victoria to have the best— immediately. Flossie will know how to go about getting vouchers to Almack’s. What else?”

“What else?” Charles burst out. “To begin with, Dumosse is so famous even
I’ve
heard of her. She won’t have time to outfit Victoria, not with the season almost upon us.”

“Tell Dumosse I said to use her own judgment on Victoria’s wardrobe and to spare no expense. Victoria’s red hair and petite height will be a challenge for her; she’ll outfit Victoria so that she outshines every insipid blonde and willowy brunette in London. She’ll do it if she has to go without sleep for the next two weeks, and then she’ll charge me double her usual exorbitant price to compensate herself for the inconvenience. I’ve been through all this before,” he finished briskly. “Now, since everything is settled, I have work to do.”

Charles expelled a long, frustrated sigh. “Very well, but we’ll leave in three days, not one. That will give me time to notify Flossie Wilson to join us in London, not here. As an unmarried man, I cannot live in the same house with Victoria unless a suitable chaperone is present—particularly in London. Send your staff ahead to see to your house and I’ll send word to Flossie Wilson to join us in London the day after tomorrow. Now I have a favor to ask of you.”