Christmas Delights (18 page)

“He had some dreadful rows with my father, who has a choleric temperament, to say the least. Lewis is very mild, but even he had his fur ruffled.”

“I expect it was painful to be refused your sister’s hand in marriage.” She said the words casually, but she was desperate to learn more about the gossip.

Rose shook her head. “That never would have happened. He was only trying to help Alys stay in London. They were no closer than any of us.”

Victoria wasn’t sure Rose was correct, but it was fascinating to hear another perspective. “I believe he cares for me a little, but not enough.”

“If you want to remarry soon, you’ll have to work fast. The house party is almost over,” Rose said.

“As you are attempting to do?”

They shared a conspiratorial smile. “Exactly. Do you have other prospects?”

“The Baron of Alix,” Victoria said. “But I was not looking to remarry as quickly as my father might wish.”

Rose let the hem drop and began to examine the cuffs. “You’ll need to redo these.” She paused. “Do you like the baron? He’s very handsome.”

“I agree. And pleasant.”

“If he proposed, would you say yes?”

Victoria took the dress and decided she agreed about the cuffs. She’d give the mourning gown to the maid to do with as she wished. “He suits my father. A title or a man to run the factories: That is what I am tasked with on the marriage market.”

“He wants to protect his interests, one way or another. But you want to marry for love.”

“If a man isn’t willing to do anything for you, is it really love?”

“Don’t you want a man who is strong?” Rose asked. “I’d rather have a man know what he wants—to be ruthless, even—in pursuing his interests. It shows character.”

“I am my father’s daughter. I suppose I want to be the ruthless one, accomplishing what I want.” She dropped the cloak with a sigh. It did have a soot stain. “This will need a vinegar wash.” The maid took it and placed it on the bed with the other washables.

“Lewis is quite strong-willed for a relatively quiet person.” Rose tossed a yellowing chemise into the same pile of clothing.

“I have noticed,” she admitted. “I will have to bring the baron up to snuff if my father insists.”

“If you love Lewis, you shouldn’t marry someone else,” Rose ventured.

“He loves someone else,” Victoria said. “Alys.”

Rose wrinkled her nose. “He doesn’t; he’s just been romantic about her, to protect his heart. And keep himself free of entanglements, I expect. Men are like that, you know, when they aren’t ready. They swing between indifference and ruthlessness.”

“Perhaps you are right. My relationship with my late husband was almost tepid in comparison to what I feel for Lewis.”

“You think your husband was indifferent to you?” Rose shook her head.

Victoria winced. “He died so easily. I suppose it wasn’t his fault, but I did wonder, you know, if I wasn’t worth living for.”

“That’s a terrible thought,” Rose said. She put an unblemished velvet gown aside. “I admit I’ve wondered myself if any man would ever really love me. I know I wasn’t even worthy of it in the past. I was a bad sister.”

“You mustn’t be so hard on yourself,” Victoria exclaimed.

“No, it’s true. My foolishness led to my older sister’s ruin. All of our lives changed. None of us could take advantage of being related to a marquess because of our sinful behavior. He never really took my sister, and therefore any of us, into fashionable society.”

“How do you see my father? As a consolation prize?” How would her proud father deal with that?

“Not at all.” Rose leaned forward and took her hand. “I like him very much. Oh, I know he’s older, and not exactly good society, but I love his stern, mysterious air, his decisiveness. And yet he doesn’t seem to have a temper.”

“He’s too good at getting his own way to resort to temper,” Victoria said.

“I like that, because I do have one,” Rose said. Her smile revealed a dimple in one cheek. “I want a man who isn’t afraid to know what he wants. It makes me . . . well, fluttery, I suppose.”

“My father gives you the flutters? That’s something.” Victoria contemplated Rose. “That is what Lewis gives me.”
At the very least.

Rose squeezed her hand. “Let us help each other, then. If your father marries me, maybe you can have Lewis on his terms instead of your father’s. I’ll do what I can to keep you in front of him. I’ll blackmail him into attending parties. You just have to be patient. If I marry your father, you could be engaged to Lewis in a year or so, don’t you think?”

Victoria forced herself to nod, while quaking at the mere thought of that word.
A year
. “What if he meets someone else first?”

“He wouldn’t even be at this house party if it wasn’t for that dratted submarine. He doesn’t see himself the way women see him. He’s being paid to be here by the earl and doesn’t realize he’s as much a prime marital candidate as anyone else. You knew that, didn’t you?”

Victoria took her hand from Rose and twisted her fingers together. “I suppose I did.”

“I don’t imagine he meets very many respectable ladies. Not with his head always buried in an engine.”

“Does he meet unrespectable ones?” Victoria squeaked.

“How would I know?” Rose asked. “No one would tell me, and there is nothing to overhear down here. If I lived in Battersea, it might be different.”

Victoria looked at the clock. “It is past time to dress for dinner.”

“I will let you dress, then.” Rose patted her hand again. “I will wait downstairs in the drawing room. Some of the family might be down there by now.”

Victoria was seated between her father and the Baron of Alix at dinner again. Rose sat on her father’s other side, which meant Victoria only had to speak to the baron; her father had no interest in conversing.

She kept half an ear on Rose’s conversation, curious to see how she would behave. She spoke well on a variety of general topics without being overly silly. Could Rose, at twenty-one, manage to hold her father’s attention? Surprisingly, yes. Victoria herself sometimes thought she was boring him. But then, she’d had little stimulation since Sir Humphrey’s death, and before that she’d only been interested in wedding plans. Perhaps she’d been as dull as the expression on her father’s face warranted. She’d learned a great deal from listening to conversations with his business associates over dinner, however.

She sighed and glanced across the table, where Lewis often sat. Tonight, though, he had taken a tray in his room.

“You are rather quiet,” the baron said. The candlelight reflected in his warm brown eyes, making them glow. He had fine looks. Thick, dark hair, a narrow face, a very patrician nose. A good figure, too, though rather on the lean side. She hadn’t known she liked well-developed muscles until she’d seen Lewis without a shirt on. Still, John had an appearance that would please any woman. His mouth tilted slightly when he spoke, and a full lower lip gave him a sensual air. She sighed. Perhaps she simply preferred blond men.

She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Simply taking in the sight of you in that magnificent tie.”

He self-consciously touched the gleaming black silk dotted with a diamond pin. “I am fancy tonight, eh?”

“You look magnificent,” she assured him.

They continued in a similar flirtatious vein throughout dinner. During her brief exchanges with her father, he seemed approving. When they finished their meal, John offered her his arm and escorted her to the drawing room, then went back to join the men for their cigars.

She expected to end the evening with further flirtation with John and was very surprised to see Lewis, dressed more casually than the other men in a black suit and a green and red tartan vest, in the doorway, with the earl at his side.

Lewis found his eyes going directly to Victoria as the men entered the drawing room. He had joined them in the hallway because he wanted a word with the earl. His legs were rubbery, but he thought he could do well enough if the coughing stayed at a minimum.

They found seats in a loose circle and began to talk about the submarine disaster. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Victoria sit down on the sofa next to his chair. The baron joined her. She wasn’t wasting time. The man was clearly besotted with her, and he wondered if she realized that.

What would happen if the baron proposed? Not his problem. Victoria had to make her own decisions. Then he noticed another interesting pairing: Rupert Courtnay had actually gone to join his cousin Rose at the piano.

The sound of metal ringing against glass caught his attention, and he turned to see Frederick Dickondell, the patriarch of the clan, with the countess. He bowed slightly to the crowd as conversation diminished.

Lewis winced.

“Not another engagement,” Victoria muttered. “Is there a prize for house parties with the most romantic couplings?”

The baron was smiling at Victoria. Lewis wanted to punch him in the face. Smarmy bastard. Did he think she was giving out hints? If so, it was more likely to be to him, seated on the other side. Did the baron ever wonder why she’d started to pay attention to him so suddenly?

Frederick Dickondell began to speak again. “Come forward, my dear son Samuel and Maud. I would like to announce the felicitous occasion of their engagement.”

The crowed clapped politely, with a few weak “hear, hears,” but it was obvious no one really cared. The third Dickondell engagement could not hold their attention, particularly when the young man in question was marrying his own second cousin, who had lived with the family for years.

Lewis could not help remembering the lack of excitement at his proposal to his cousin when he had lived with the family for some time. He understood why no one would care. Nothing to gossip about, really. No desperate secrets to uncover. Why had Samuel allowed this at such a young age? He supposed Maud was the same age. Perhaps they had loved each other from the cradle.

When he glanced back at Victoria, she had her head quite close to the baron’s, who was speaking intently to her. Lewis’s stomach churned at the thought of the man proposing. Could it all be a trick? Could she have enticed the baron to propose to make him come up to snuff?

No, he didn’t really think that. She didn’t bother with hidden motivations. The truth of her infatuation, or even love, was written on her expressive face. Good God, he couldn’t stand to sit next to the simpering pair of them any longer. He stood, careful not to look at the sofa, and ignored the earl’s next question. After straightening his jacket, he walked to the piano and leaned against it.

Rose was playing a Mozart piece somewhat ineptly. Rupert Courtnay didn’t wince when her timing was off. Either he had a tin ear or he was enraptured by the girl. Lewis hoped for rapture.

Rose blushed when she finished the piece. “I am a better singer, I am afraid.”

“I’m certain you have a delightful voice, my dear, but I quite enjoyed the piece. One of my favorites,” Courtnay said smoothly.

Lewis waited to see if the enigmatic older man would smile, but he did not quite go to such an extreme.

Rose cleared her throat delicately.

“Do you require a glass of punch?” Lewis inquired.

“Oh, tea, I think.” She smiled at him.

“Here is champagne coming, courtesy of the latest engagement,” Lewis said.

Courtnay frowned. “Yet another one? Wasn’t paying attention.”

“I think that’s all the male Dickondells paired off now,” Lewis told him.

Courtnay lifted his bushy, gray-threaded eyebrows. “No dealings with them. The family must want to keep wedding costs low by combining ceremonies.”

Lewis nodded. “Local farming family. Connected to the Shields. Nice people, really.”

“Nice will get you nothing in this world.”

“Interesting point. Rose, why don’t you see if you can flag down a tray of that champagne?” He meant for her to go away.