Once and Always (31 page)

“We’ll be married in a church,” Jason said curtly, cutting short her diatribe. “And if lightning strikes, I’ll bear the expense for a new roof.”

“Good afternoon, my dear,” Charles said cheerfully, patting the edge of the bed beside him. “Come sit down. Your visit last night with Jason has restored my health beyond belief. Now, tell me more about your wedding plans.”

Victoria sat down beside him. “Truthfully, it’s all very confusing, Uncle Charles. Northrup has just told me Jason packed the things from his study this morning and has moved back to Wakefield.”

“I know,” Charles said, smiling. “He came in to see me before he left and told me he’d decided to do it ‘for the sake of appearances.’ The less time he spends in close proximity to you, the less chance there is for any further gossip.”

“So that’s why he left,” Victoria said, her worried expression clearing.

Laughter shook Charles’s shoulders as he nodded. “My child, I think this is the first time in his life that Jason has ever made a concession to propriety! It irked him to do it, but he did it anyway. You have a decidedly good influence on him,” Charles finished merrily. “Perhaps you can teach him next to stop scoffing at principles.”

Victoria smiled back at him, relieved and quite suddenly very happy. “I’m afraid I don’t know anything about the wedding arrangements,” she admitted, “except that it’s to take place in a big church here in London.”

“Jason is taking care of everything. He took his secretary with him to Wakefield, along with the main staff from here, so they can make the preparations. After the ceremony, a wedding celebration will take place at Wakefield for your close friends and some of the villagers. I believe the invitation list and the invitations are already in the process of being prepared. So you have nothing to do except remain here and enjoy everyone’s surprise when they realize you are well and truly to be the next Duchess of Atherton.”

Victoria dismissed that and hesitantly brought up something that was much more important to her. “The night you were so very ill, you mentioned something about my mother and you—something you had intended to tell me.”

Charles turned his head away, gazing out the window, and Victoria said quickly, “You needn’t tell me if it will upset you to speak of it.”

“It’s not that,” he said, slowly returning his gaze to her face. “I know how understanding and sensible you are, but you’re still very young. You loved your father, probably as much as you loved your mother. Once I tell you what I have to say, you might begin to think of me as an interloper in their marriage, although I swear to you I never communicated with your mother after she married your papa. Victoria,” he explained miserably, “I’m trying to tell you I don’t want you to despise me, and I fear you might when you hear the story.”

Victoria took his hand in hers and said gently, “How could I possibly despise someone with the good sense to love my mother?”

He looked down at her hand and his voice was choked with emotion. “You inherited your mother’s heart as well, do you know that?” When Victoria remained silent, his gaze returned to the windows and he began the story of his involvement with Katherine. Not until he was done did he look at Victoria again, and when he did he saw no condemnation in her eyes, only sorrow and compassion. “So you see,” he finished, “I loved her with all my heart. I loved her and I cut her out of my life when she was the only thing worth living for.”

“My great-grandmother
forced
you to do it,” Victoria said, her eyes stormy.

“Were they happy—your mother and father, I mean? I’ve always wondered what sort of marriage they had, but I’ve been afraid to ask.”

Victoria remembered the awful scene she had witnessed so many Christmases ago between her parents, but it was outweighed by the eighteen years of kindness and consideration they’d shown each other. “Yes, they were happy. Their marriage wasn’t at all like a
ton
marriage.”

She spoke of a
“ton
marriage” with such aversion that Charles smiled curiously. “What do you mean by a
ton
marriage?”

“The sort of marriage nearly everyone here in London has—except for Robert and Caroline Collingwood and a few others. The sort of marriage where the couple is rarely in each other’s company, and when they happen to meet at some affair, they behave like polite, well-bred strangers. The gentlemen are always off enjoying their own amusements, and the ladies have their cicisbeos. At least my parents lived together in a real home and we were a real family.”

“I gather you intend to have an old-fashioned marriage with an old-fashioned family,” he teased, looking very pleased at the idea.

“I don’t think Jason wants that sort of marriage.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell Charles that Jason’s original offer was for her to give him a son and then go away. She consoled herself with the knowledge that, even though he’d made that offer, he’d seemed to prefer that she remain with him in England.

“I doubt very much if Jason knows what he wants right now,” Charles said gravely. “He needs you, child. He needs your warmth and your spirit. He won’t admit that, even to himself yet—and when he finally does admit it to himself, he won’t like it, believe me. He’ll fight you,” Charles warned gently. “But sooner or later, he’ll open his heart to you, and when he does, he’ll find peace. In return, he’ll make you happier than you’ve ever dreamed of being.”

She looked so dubious, so skeptical, that Charles’s smile faded. “Have patience with him, Victoria. If he weren’t so strong in body and mind, he’d never have survived to the age of thirty. He has scars, deep ones, but you have the power to heal them.”

“What sort of scars?”

Charles shook his head. “It will be better for both of you if Jason himself is the one to finally tell you about his life, especially his childhood. If he doesn’t, then you can come to me.”

In the days that followed, Victoria had little time to think about Jason or anything else. No sooner had she left Charles’s bedroom than Madame Dumosse arrived at the house with four seamstresses. “Lord Fielding has instructed me to prepare a wedding gown for you, mademoiselle,” she said, already walking around Victoria. “He said it is to be very rich, very elegant. Individual. Befitting a queen. No ruffles.”

Caught somewhere between annoyance and laughter at Jason’s high-handedness, Victoria shot her a sidelong look. “Did he happen to select a color, too?”

“Blue.”

“Blue?” Victoria burst out, prepared to do physical battle for white.

Madame nodded, her finger thoughtfully pressed to her lips, her other hand plunked upon her waist. “Yes, blue. Ice blue. He said you are glorious in that color—‘a titian-haired angel
,
”  he said.”

Victoria abruptly decided ice blue was a lovely color to be married in.

“Lord Fielding has excellent taste,” Madame continued, her thin brows raised over her bright, alert eyes. “Don’t you agree?”

“Decidedly,” Victoria said, laughing, and she surrendered herself to the skilled ministrations of the dressmaker.

Four hours later, when Madame finally released her and whisked her seamstresses off to the shop, Victoria was informed that Lady Caroline Collingwood was waiting for her in the gold salon.

“Victoria,” her friend exclaimed, her pretty face anxious as she held out her hands, clasping Victoria’s. “Lord Fielding came to our house this morning to tell us about the wedding. I’m honored to be your matron of honor, which Lord Fielding said you wished me to be, but this is all so sudden—your marriage, I mean.”

Victoria suppressed her surprised pleasure at the news that Jason had thoughtfully remembered she’d need an attendant and had stopped to see the Collingwoods.

“I never suspected you were developing a lasting attachment to Lord Fielding,” Caroline continued, “and I can’t help wondering. You do wish to marry him, don’t you? You aren’t being, well, forced into it in any way?”

“Only by fate,” Victoria said with a smile, sinking exhaustedly into a chair. She saw Caroline’s frown and hastily added, “I’m not being forced. It’s what I wish to do.”

Caroline’s entire countenance brightened with relief and happiness. “I’m so glad—I’ve been hoping this would happen.” At Victoria’s dubious look, she explained, “In the past few weeks, I’ve come to know him better, and I
quite
agree with Robert, who told me that the things people think about Lord Fielding are the result of gossip started solely by one particularly spiteful, malicious woman. I doubt anyone would have believed all the rumors if Lord Fielding himself hadn’t been so aloof and uncommunicative. Of course, one doesn’t particularly like people who believe terrible things about one, does one? So he probably didn’t feel the slightest obligation to disabuse us. And as Robert said, Lord Fielding is a proud man, which would make it impossible for him to grovel in the face of adverse public opinion, particularly when it was so unfair!”

Victoria stifled a giggle at her friend’s wholehearted endorsement of the man she had once feared and condemned, but it was typical of Caroline. Caroline refused to see any faults whatever in the people she liked, and she was conversely unwilling to admit there were any redeeming qualities in the people she didn’t. That quirk in her lively personality made her the most loyal of friends, however, and Victoria was deeply grateful to her for her unswerving friendship. “Thank you, Northrup,” she said as the butler came in carrying the tea tray.

“I can’t think why I ever found him frightening,” Caroline said while Victoria poured the tea. Breathlessly eager to absolve Jason of any blame she might have put on him in the past, she continued, “I was wrong to let my imagination run away with my sense that way. I believe the reason I thought him frightening stemmed from the fact that he is so very tail and his hair is so black, which is perfectly absurd of me. Why, do you know what he said when he left us this morning?” she asked in a voice of intense gratification.

“No,” Victoria said, smothering another smile at Caroline’s determination to elevate Jason from devil to saint. “What did he say?”

“He said I have always reminded him of a pretty butterfly.”

“How lovely,” Victoria declared sincerely.

“Yes, it was, but not nearly as lovely as the way he described
you
.”

“Me? How on earth did all this come up?”

“The compliments, you mean?” When Victoria nodded, Caroline said, “I had just finished remarking on how happy I am that you are marrying an Englishman and staying here, so we can remain close friends. Lord Fielding laughed and said we complement each other perfectly, you and I, because I have always reminded him of a pretty butterfly, and you are like a wild flower that flourishes even in adversity and brightens up everyone’s lives. Wasn’t that utterly charming of him?”

“Utterly,” Victoria agreed, feeling absurdly pleased.

“I think he is far more in love with you than he lets on,” Caroline confided. “After all, he fought a duel for you.”

By the time Caroline left, Victoria was half-convinced Jason actually cared for her, a belief that enabled her to be quite gay and positive the following morning, when a staggering procession of callers began arriving to wish her happy after learning of her impending marriage.

Victoria was entertaining a group of young ladies who’d come to call on her for exactly that reason when the object of their romantic discussion strolled into the blue salon. The laughter trailed off into nervous, uncertain murmurs as the young ladies beheld the dangerously impressive figure of the unpredictable Marquess of Wakefield, garbed in a coal black riding jacket and snug black breeches that made him look overwhelmingly male. Unaware of his impact on these impressionable females, many of whom had cherished secret dreams of captivating him themselves, Jason favored them with a glinting smile. “Good morning, ladies,” he said; then he turned to Victoria and his smile became far more intimate. “Could you spare me a moment?”

Excusing herself at once, Victoria followed him into his study.

“I won’t keep you away from your friends long,” he promised, reaching into the pocket of his jacket. Without another word, he took her hand in his and slid a heavy ring onto her finger. Victoria gazed at the ring, which covered her finger all the way to her knuckle. A row of large sapphires was flanked by two rows of dazzling diamonds on both sides. “Jason, it’s beautiful,” she breathed. “Breathtakingly, incredibly, beautiful. Thank—”

“Thank me with a kiss,” he reminded her softly, and when Victoria tipped her face up to his, his lips captured hers in a long, hungry, thorough kiss that drained her mind of thought and her body of all resistance. Shaken by his ardor and her body’s helpless response to it, Victoria stared into his smoky jade eyes, trying to understand why Jason’s kisses always had this shattering effect on her.

His gaze dropped to her lips. “Next time, do you think you could find it in your heart to kiss me without being asked?” It was the thread of disappointed yearning Victoria thought she heard in his voice that melted her heart. He had offered himself as her husband; in return he asked for very little—only this. Leaning up on her toes, she slid her hands up along his hard chest and twined them around his neck, and then she covered his lips with hers. She felt a tremor run through his tall frame as she innocently brushed her lips back and forth over his, slowly exploring the warm curves of his mouth, learning the taste of him, while his parted lips began to move against hers in a wildly arousing kiss.

But in the mounting turmoil of their kiss and unaware of the hardening pressure against her stomach, Victoria let her fingers slide into the soft hair at his nape while her body automatically fitted itself to his—and suddenly everything changed. Jason’s arms closed around her with stunning force, his mouth opening on hers with fierce hunger. He parted her lips, teasing her with his tongue until he coaxed her to touch her own tongue to his lips, and when she did, he gasped, pulling her even closer, his body taut with fiery need.

When he finally lifted his head, he stared down at her with an odd expression of bemused self-mockery on his ruggedly chiseled features. “I should have given you diamonds and sapphires the other night, instead of pearls,” he commented. “But don’t kiss me like this again until
after
we’re married.”