Gayle Buck (24 page)

Erica expressed her interest in Margaret’s description of a lime velvet pelisse trimmed in gold frogging and ribands that was the latest rage in London. “How I envy you the chance to observe firsthand the fashions,” she said, sighing. “Dear Mama has promised me a Season next year but it seems very hard to wait before one may refurbish one’s wardrobe.”

“I had the pelisse packed when I came down with Doro, not knowing if an opportunity to wear it would not occur,” said Margaret, sparing a glance in Lord Damion’s direction. “Should you care to see it? Indeed, we are almost the same size. I believe it might fit you, if you would care to try it on.”

“To be sure, how very generous of you!” exclaimed Erica. “I should very much like to gather ideas for my own seamstress to copy.” Margaret, wondering at her own unusual generosity, led the younger woman out of the drawing room and upstairs. The two spaniels followed them, racing dizzily around their feet.

Lord Damion noticed when Miss Belingham and Margaret left the drawing room. He glanced over at his mother. “I perceive that you are quite deserted, ma’am,” he said with a smile.

“And to my great satisfaction,” said Lady Hortense, aware that he meant to interrupt his billiards game if she allowed him. “I shall accomplish much more without holding up my end of a conversation. Pray do not trouble yourself, my dear.” She began to turn the hem on the white muslin and lace christening dress. Lord Damion was satisfied that she was truly content and turned his attention once more to the billiards table.

Victoria suddenly entered the drawing room. Evelyn’s face drained of color when he saw her. She smiled at him and her eyes danced. “You have a lusty son, Evelyn. And Dorothea is already asking for you,” she said, laughing.

Evelyn whooped for joy. He leaped to his feet and caught Victoria in a spin that left her breathless. An instant later he released her and dashed upstairs.

“Well, it seems as good a time as any to make my way upstairs. I want very much to congratulate the new parents. And I know that Margaret will wish to be informed,” said Lady Hortense, putting away her sewing. She rose and followed Evelyn.

Sir Aubrey sat back in his chair. His eyes snapped and a faint smile tugged at his thin lips. He looked up as Lord Damion approached him. “The pair of them have made me a grandfather, damn them,” he said gruffly.

Lord Damion smiled and squeezed his shoulder. He knew how pleased the old gentleman was though he attempted to hide it. “They will allow us to see him in a few moments. Would you like to go up now, sir?”

Sir Aubrey nodded. “Aye. I’ll want to know what those two name my grandson. Lend me your arm, Damion. I’ve mislaid my cane.” Lord Damion helped him to his feet and walked with him out of the room. Sir Aubrey leaned heavily on his nephew and for the first time Victoria was struck by Sir Aubrey’s age.

“Vicky.”

She turned as Sir Harry stepped around the billiards table. Without a thought Victoria went straight into his arms. “Dearest Harry. You are so comfortable.” She sighed against his shoulder.

Laughter rippled in his voice. “My dear girl, what if someone should enter? I doubt that our reputations could stand the scandal.”

“Oh, let them all talk. Jessica and I shall soon be beyond the reach of Lord Damion or anyone else,” said Victoria.

Sir Harry frowned over her head. It was very unlike Victoria to be so flippant and the fact that she mentioned the Earl of March was revealing. He thought he knew her better than any other living being and he was disturbed. “Victoria, has Lord Damion done anything to upset you? When I received your letter in Portugal, I was frankly alarmed for I had heard of his reputation. That is why I applied for an early leave,” he said.

Victoria shook her head. “Harry, how nonsensical you are. Whatever could he have done?”

Sir Harry’s sensitive ear caught a strange inflection in her voice. He held her away from him by the shoulders. There was a hard look about his mouth.  “You cannot gammon me, my girl. Come, do not be afraid to tell me, Victoria. Has he hurt you?”

Victoria’s face flamed and she put up her hands to hide it. “Oh no, no! Not in the way you think, but— oh Harry, I am so confused!”

Sir Harry suspected that she was distressed over more than Lord Damion’s actions. He took hold of her wrists and gently forced down her hands. “Look at me, Vicky.” Reluctantly Victoria raised tearful eyes and Sir Harry whistled in astonishment. “Dear girl, you have fallen hard for him! No, it’s no use denying it, love. Remember how well I know you. I haven’t seen you this upset since word came that Charles was dead. His lordship has evidently struck a very deep chord.”

“Oh Harry!” Victoria flung herself against his chest, her tears flowing over. He folded his arms about her and gently rocked her, crooning comfortingly. After several minutes Victoria straightened up. He offered his handkerchief to her and she thanked him quietly, drying her eyes.

He strolled over to the window. He noticed that it was beginning to snow again. “Well, love, what is to be done?”

Victoria joined him by the velvet drapes. With her composure once more intact, she said, “I shall return to Lisbon after Christmas and forget Lord Damion.”

“You are jesting. Surely you would not leave England before you discovered whether he returned your regard,” said Sir Harry in disbelief.

“Harry, you have forgotten Sir Aubrey’s scheme,” said Victoria quietly.

“What the devil does that have to do with anything?” asked Sir Harry impatiently.

“It has a great deal to do with it. You see, the scheme did not originate with Sir Aubrey. He was merely attempting to carry out Lord Robert’s wishes, which are stated in his will. Lord Robert provided that I should be rewarded handsomely if I should marry Lord Damion.” Victoria clasped her arms about herself against a draft coming through the leaded window panes.

“Good Lord,” said Sir Harry blankly. “Is Lord Damion aware of this provision?”

“I do not think he knows the actual contents of the codicil. At least, I believe he does not. But you must see now, Harry. How can I ever hope for any better ending when my motives will be suspect if I should dare to approach his lordship?” asked Victoria.

Sir Harry opened his lips to reply, but she held up her hand to stop him. “Not a word more, Harry, I pray you. My mind is made up and I shan’t be bothered further,” she said.

“I bow in respect to your wishes, madame,” said Sir Harry. He did not care for it, but he was shrewd enough to realize that she needed time to sound out her own way. He made a flourishing leg and Victoria laughed, grateful to him for his tact and sensitivity.

She heard activity in the hall. “Erica must be awaiting you. I doubt if Margaret kept her long once the news of the baby found her.” They turned toward the drawing-room door and Victoria tucked her hand inside his elbow as they crossed the carpet. “I shall miss you when I return to Lisbon, Harry. You have been quite the best friend I have ever had, barring Rebecca.”

Sir Harry turned and caught her in a brotherly hug, then looked down at her with a grin. “I think you are a fool, you know.” Victoria nodded, returning his smile somewhat waveringly.

The door opened and Lord Damion stood on the threshold. At sight of Victoria in Sir Harry’s arms, a sudden frown gathered between his eyes. Sir Harry released Victoria, raising his brows at the flash of jealousy he saw in the other man’s eyes. Lord Damion addressed him shortly. “Miss Belingham awaits you in the hall.”

Sir Harry nodded. He and Victoria together moved through the doorway. As Victoria was nearly past him, Lord Damion stepped forward. Victoria was amazed when he pulled her back into the room. “I know that you will excuse us, Belingham,” Lord Damion said somewhat grimly, his fingers tight about Victoria’s slender wrist.

Ready laughter sprang to Sir Harry’s eyes. He saw that Victoria was to learn what Lord Damion’s feelings were toward her whether she willed it or not. He bowed formally. “Of course, my lord. Good-bye, Lady Victoria.”

Chapter Twenty-three

“Harry!” Victoria stared in astonishment as Sir Harry gently closed the door behind him, leaving her alone with Lord Damion. She rounded on Lord Damion furiously. “Unhand me at once, sir. I shall not be dragged about like an army baggage yet again!”

Lord Damion grasped both her arms and shook her. “God help me, but I should like to strangle you. You dare to flirt with Belingham! I demand to know what he is to you.”

“How dare you!” gasped Victoria, shaking herself free. “Harry is my very dearest friend. How dare you suggest that we—that I—oh!” Before she gave thought to her action Victoria slapped him full across the cheek. She stared at him defiantly, expecting him to retaliate in some fashion.

Lord Damion stared down at her becomingly flushed face. He realized that she was truly angry at his insinuation. Suddenly he laughed. “You are the first woman ever to strike the Demon with impunity, my girl,” he said humorously.

Victoria was bewildered and suspicious of his friendliness. She eyed him warily.

“Perhaps I could choose a more auspicious beginning, my lady, but I wish to inform you of my sincere affection for you,” said Lord Damion. He smiled gently at her. Recalling the passion that she had revealed to him in the copse, he continued with a comfortable assurance. “I know that you are not indifferent to me, Victoria. My dear girl, I am doing it so badly! But I am asking if you will become my wife.”

Bright confidence shone in his gray eyes and Victoria dropped her gaze. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs as she allowed his words to sink in. Despair threatened to overpower her and with a mighty effort of will she forced herself to speak calmly. “I am honored, truly honored, Lord Damion. But I cannot accept your proposal.” Her voice quavered and she turned her head away so that he would not see the sudden tears in her eyes.

Lord Damion stared at her in shocked disbelief. “Victoria!” He caught her hands urgently. “My darling Victoria, pray look at me and tell me the truth. Can you say that you care nothing for me?”

Victoria shook her head. “Oh no, no. I do care for you, my lord, more than I should. But there lies so much between us. My scruples will not allow me to accept you.”

Lord Damion thought he understood. “You must believe me when I say that not Margaret, nor any other woman, can come close to rivaling you in my esteem, my lady. Only you have ever truly held my heart.”

Half laughing, Victoria freed one of her hands to lay a cool palm against his hard cheek. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “Oh my lord, if it were only so simple. But I am your cousin’s widow and have borne his child. Surely that must—”

Lord Damion made an impatient gesture. “I care naught for the past, ma’am. And you must realize by now how securely little Jessica resides in my heart. I shall count it an honor to be her father.”

“Oh Damion, pray do not make it so difficult. Pray, pray do not press me,” exclaimed Victoria, putting her hands to her cheeks and turning away from him. Her thoughts were agitated. If only Sir Aubrey had not perpetuated that despicable scheme of Lord Robert’s. If only he had not told her of the codicil in the will. It would all be so different even if she could but claim ignorance.

Lord Damion caught her right by the shoulders and whirled her to face him. He stared down into her soft dark eyes. “You care for me, Victoria. I know it,” he said with soft grimness. When she tried to look away, he shook her. “Admit it, my lady!”

Victoria clutched his arms for support. “Yes, my lord, I do care! But I shall not marry you.”

Lord Damion stared down at her, frustrated almost beyond endurance. He could think of no good reason why his chosen lady should spurn him unless— His eyes narrowed. Victoria gasped as his fingers bit cruelly into her shoulders. “Was I right after all, Victoria? Is it Belingham? Are you already spoken for? Is that why?” he asked softly. She looked up at him with wide, almost uncomprehending eyes. With an oath Lord Damion swept her into his arms and kissed her savagely. His hands played roughly over her body. He tore his lips from hers to seek the pounding pulse in the soft
V
of her neck.

Victoria fought her way free, then slapped him with all her strength. “Is this the Demon’s usual method of persuasion?” she asked with loathing. Tears rolled down her flushed cheeks. She wrenched open the door and fled from the drawing room. She was unaware of the staring footmen or departing guests as she ran up the stairs to seek refuge in her room.

While the onlookers stood in amazement, they heard the distant slamming of a door. Almost as one they turned to Lord Damion, who stood stock-still in the drawing-room doorway. His hands were clenched at his sides and a thunderous expression darkened his face. When he became conscious of the various curious and horrified gazes directed at him, he flushed under his tan. Turning on his heel, he strode swiftly away down the hall.

As he disappeared, Erica took hold of Sir Harry’s arm and said, “What a truly romantic gentleman, brother! I quite see why Mama disliked my poor soldier last year. He lacked the proper dash. I shall now know what to look for in my next beau.”

Sir Harry’s eyes happened to be on Margaret’s face and he saw her whiten. His brows rose in surprised understanding. “Oh, do clam up, Erica,” said Sir Harry easily. He turned back to Lady Hortense and renewed his leave. Reminded of her manners, Erica warmly seconded his civilities and promised that she would visit again.

“Of course, my dear. You are always welcome,” said Lady Hortense, mortified and flustered. She sent the Belinghams on their way with almost indecent haste so that she could go in search of her son.

With Sir Harry’s leavetaking, Margaret’s composure vanished. She had made a point of being on hand when he left and she now wished that she had remained with Doro, happily ignorant of the quarrel between Lord Damion and Lady Victoria. Margaret went up to her bedroom. She was not in a sociable mood and abruptly dismissed her dresser. It had shocked her to witness what was clearly a lover’s quarrel. Once again she felt uncertain of her power over Lord Damion and it was an unsettling sensation. She stared broodingly out of her window at the beautiful cold countryside. This sojourn at the Crossing was decidedly unamusing, she thought.