Gayle Buck (29 page)

A window near the door had been discovered to be ill-fitting and a painted screen had been set across it to ward off drafts. Victoria had passed the screen without a glance when she went to the dining room, but now she paused. It would be very like Jessica to explore. Victoria stepped around the screen, only to stop short.

Sir Harry and Margaret were caught up in a passionate kiss. Nevertheless they heard Victoria’s gasp and parted instantly. Margaret threw a defiant look at Victoria before she brushed past her.

Victoria and Sir Harry looked after her graceful form in silence. Sir Harry turned smiling eyes on Victoria. “Well, Vicky, you have never heard me say so before, but I am in love at last.”

“Oh no, Harry!” Victoria exclaimed unguardedly. She was dismayed, for she knew that he spoke in all seriousness. “Margaret is a flirt of the worst kind. She will make you miserable.”

“Don’t I know it,” said Sir Harry ruefully. “She’ll lead me a dance and laugh as she does.” He looked down at Victoria’s troubled expression and laid his arm about her shoulders in a brotherly hug. “You needn’t concern yourself so, love. I knew from the moment that I saw her what she is and I understand her character. She is restless and spoiled and wishes for the admiration of others. But she has a sterling quality as well. We are much alike, Margaret Giddings and I. She does not know it yet, but she will have me, and I shall make her happy. Meantime, I am contented to wait until she is ready.”

“If you are right, Harry, she will make a splendid soldier’s wife. Margaret has spirit enough for two,” said Victoria, smiling up at him. She decided on the instant to keep her reservations to herself. Her friend was experienced enough to know his own mind. She only hoped that his ultimate decision would bring him happiness.

Sir Harry realized her tact. He raised her hand to his lips. “Thank you, dear friend. And I wish you joy of this glowering gentleman.” Victoria turned her head swiftly. She blushed scarlet when she saw that Lord Damion had joined them. Sir Harry gave the earl a friendly nod. “A pleasant evening to you, my lord.” He strolled out from behind the screen. Victoria’s hand flew out to him, then dropped to her side.

Lord Damion took note of her blush and lowered eyes. “I perceive that Sir Harry is a most accomplished flirt. But I believe that I may claim some experience of my own.” Before Victoria was aware of what he was about, Lord Damion turned her face up and kissed her softly. He raised his head to gaze deeply into her wondering eyes. “Merry Christmas and a happy new year, Lady Victoria.”

“And to you, my lord,” said Victoria. She did not any longer feel the least bit awkward with him. When he offered his arm to her, she accepted it with grace and they emerged together from behind the screen.

“Mama, Mama!”

Jessica flung herself at her mother and Victoria caught her up. “Jessica! Wherever have you been?”

The little girl brushed aside such an unimportant question. “Mama, you are to play carols!” she said excitedly, her eyes aglow. She tugged on Victoria’s hand. “Come, Mama. Everyone is waiting for you.”

“Then most assuredly she must come, and immediately,” said Lord Damion. He reached down and swung the little girl up to sit on his shoulders. Jessica squealed with delight, clapping her hands. She was not at all afraid of the giddy height. With a flourish, Lord Damion offered his arm once again to Victoria. She laughed and put her hand through his arm.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Victoria was still laughing as Lord Damion escorted her across the crowded room. It struck more than one person that the trio looked to be a perfect family group. Squire Terrell nudged his wife. “Tibby, we must have them to breakfast after the wedding.” His spouse stared at him. He blew out his cheeks. “Aye, madame, regard me with doubt. But I tell you that the neighborhood will see a wedding this spring.”

Margaret stood nearby and was an unintentional eavesdropper. She stared in amazement at Lord Damion, with Jessica clinging to his shoulders, and Lady Victoria as they approached the pianoforte. Only the blind could have missed the warmth in the smile that the couple exchanged and it was brought forcibly home to Margaret that she had lost Lord Damion after all. Her feelings were mixed, but surprisingly enough she did not feel the rage that she expected. “Well, this has been a singularly unprofitable winter,” she murmured to herself. Her gaze fell on Sir Harry’s tall figure and she made a sudden decision. Margaret walked over to him without giving a backward glance to Lord Damion and Victoria.

Sir Harry welcomed Margaret with a quiet greeting. He had no difficulty in reading her mind. His chosen lady was feeling failure for the first time, but she was rising to the occasion like the thoroughbred he had known her to be. When Victoria called to her to join Lord Damion beside the pianoforte, Margaret graciously assented. Before she left him, Sir Harry caught her eye and made her a slight bow, allowing his admiration to show. Margaret’s firmly held mouth softened and she went to the pianoforte with a light step.

Lady Hortense watched the scene with approval. “Oh bravo, Damion! I knew that you could persuade her,” she said softly. Beside her, Sir Aubrey gave a start. He had been regarding Victoria and his nephew with great satisfaction and was already turning over in his mind how best to make the match acceptable to his sister-in-law. It came as a pleasant surprise to discover that he need not make the effort. His cynical face eased into a warm smile.

The first carol was the duet between Lord Damion and Margaret. Once again Margaret was in her element with the old song. Her eyes flashed like blue jewels and her voice soared in beautiful harmony with her companion’s. When the carol was finished, the company was loud in compliments and entreaties for more.

Margaret laughingly declined a second duet and urged Victoria to play a time-honored carol that everyone might sing. Victoria obliged and the carol’s bright hopeful words rose to fill the air with goodwill and cheer.

The caroling lasted the better part of two hours. When Victoria was at last free to rise from the pianoforte, she discovered that Jessica had fallen asleep. The little girl was curled on the sofa beside Lady Hortense, her tousled head in that lady’s lap. “She looks like such an angel,” said Lady Hortense softly, brushing a strand of light hair from Jessica’s rosy cheek.

“I think it past time that I take her up to her bed,” said Victoria, bending to pick up her daughter. Jessica was limp as a doll and did not stir as Victoria laid her over her shoulder.

“I do not think anyone will think you too beforehand for going upstairs, Victoria. Dorothea excused herself some time ago to nurse little James,” said Lady Hortense.

“Then I, too, shall make my excuses. It has been a very full evening. Good night, dear Lady Hortense,” said Victoria. The older woman surprised her by reaching up to bestow a light kiss on her cheek. Victoria smiled and then began to make her way to the drawing-room door.

Margaret came up to her. “You are retiring then, Victoria?”

“As you see,” said Victoria with a laugh as she nodded down at her daughter.

“You warned Sir Harry about me, did you not?” asked Margaret unexpectedly.

Victoria read the certainty in her eyes. “Of course I did, Margaret, for you are a terrible flirt.”

Margaret nodded, and suddenly smiled. “You do realize that I do not care to be crossed. I shall probably do something outrageous now.”

“You probably shall,” agreed Victoria, returning her smile. They parted amicably, at last no longer antagonists.

Victoria was stopped several times as various people wished her good night, but at last she reached the hall. “Here, let me carry Jessica,” said Sir Harry, who had followed her. Victoria relinquished her heavy burden with an exaggerated sigh of relief and he laughed. They went together up the stairs.

Victoria’s graceful exit was taken as a signal by the guests to depart. There was a general exodus and calling for wraps and carriages. Good nights and compliments frosted the cold night air and the cheerful light from the manor door slanted over the white snow in the carriageway.

Victoria did not want to miss Lady Belingham and Erica and she returned downstairs with Sir Harry, who joined his mother and sister in their leavetaking. Victoria addressed Erica. “I did not spend as much time with you this evening as I would have liked, but I promise you that I shall ride over one day quite soon.”

“I should like that. Harry leaves again for the Peninsula before long, you know, and it shall be very dull without him,” said Erica with a laugh.

Lady Belingham overheard her. “Yes, and so it shall. Be sure that you do not desert us in our time of need, Lady Victoria. I still hope that you and Jessica shall come to visit with us at Belingham before you, too, return to Portugal,” she said. Victoria laughed and promised her that they would. Lady Belingham turned to Lady Hortense and hugged her. “It was a marvelous gathering, Hortense. And I do believe that the gossip has been silenced. The Crossing’s charming hospitality will be the topic for many a day,” she said, chuckling.

“It did go off rather well, didn’t it?” Lady Hortense said happily. The Belinghams did not tarry long in the cold and quickly entered their equipage. Lady Hortense waved to her friend as the carriage began to roll away from the steps.

* * * *

As the host, Lord Damion remained at the door until the last of the guests had departed. But Sir Aubrey and Margaret had already gone upstairs, closely followed by Evelyn, who wanted to look in on his wife and son.

Lady Hortense was drooping when the door was at last closed. Lord Damion said gently, “Go to bed, Mama. I shall make the rounds.”

“Very well. I need little persuasion, I fear,” said Lady Hortense as she turned to the stairs. Victoria made to follow her, but Lord Damion held her back. She did not object, content for the moment to be with him.

Victoria and Lord Damion were left alone and she accompanied him as he gave a quick look in at the recent scene of festivity. The remainder of the standing supper had already been cleared away. The butler was tending to the hearth fires and Lord Damion gave him a word of thanks. The butler bowed, wishing his lordship and her ladyship a good night.

Lord Damion gestured toward the stairs. Victoria took his arm and they ascended as the servants were just putting out the guttering candles. Darkness swiftly engulfed the hall below and only the taper that Victoria carried lighted their way.

“I enjoyed this evening. I do not recall ever attending a more pleasant gathering,” said Lord Damion.

“Nor I,” said Victoria softly. “It can only be that the Christmas spirit infected us all. My lord, did you observe that Sir Aubrey and Evelyn did not exchange one cross word all evening? I was overcome with amazement, I assure you.”

Lord Damion laughed. “We were all on our best behavior. And I, too, think it was due to more than the desire to impress the neighborhood with our family feeling.”

They had reached Victoria’s door and Lord Damion raised her hand to his lips. His eyes danced, inviting her to share his amusement. “I was told by my mother, who was quite heady with triumph, that my reputation as an unreformed rake suffered irreparable damage when I perched Jessica on my shoulders. We apparently presented quite the family picture.”

Victoria blushed furiously. She gently withdrew her hand from his, suddenly trembling. “It will be a nine-day wonder, I have no doubt. I will bid you good night now, my lord,” she said in a light tone.

Lord Damion took her face between his hands and gently kissed her. “Merry Christmas, Victoria,” he said softly. He released her and walked away to his own room.

Victoria was hardly conscious of entering her bedroom. Her heart hammered erratically and as she leaned against the closed door she could hardly think for the happiness that welled up within her. She touched her soft lips, shaking her head in wonder.

Victoria knew in the back of her mind that she was going to be wretchedly unhappy when she left the Crossing, but she pushed aside the thought. For the moment it was wonderful to pretend that she was free to love Lord Damion.

She had given Mary permission to spend Christmas with her family and so undressed herself. Her fingers were clumsy on the gown’s tiny buttons, but Victoria hummed as she prepared for bed. She blew out the candle that she had put down on her bedstead and started to slide between the sheets.

There was a scratching at her door and a loud whisper. “Victoria! Are you awake? It is I, Evelyn.”

Victoria hurriedly put on a dressing gown before opening the door. “Evelyn, whatever can you want? It must be well after midnight!”

“Doro sent me to fetch you. We gave Nurse the night off and the baby—Victoria, he is screeching in pain.”

“I will come at once.”

They hurried down the hall, neither noticing when Margaret’s door cracked open. Doro was sitting up in bed, rocking the pitifully screaming infant to no avail. Distraught tears ran down her cheeks. “Oh Victoria, I am so glad you have come!”

Victoria sat down on the bed and took the infant. She lightly laid her hand over his tiny abdomen and sighed. “Here, Doro. His poor little belly is tight as a drum. He has the colic,” she said.

“Oh poor James,” said Doro, softly stroking the baby’s distended belly.

“But what can we do?” asked Evelyn, trying to make himself heard over his son’s wails. “I don’t mind telling you that he is driving me mad.”

“Evelyn!” Dorothea exclaimed angrily.

Evelyn’s jaw jutted. “It is true, Doro,” he said bravely. “I am sorry for him and all, but I cannot stand much more.”

“Evelyn, put some coals in the warming pan and bring me that comforter. Heat is what will ease him,” said Victoria. Under her directions Doro settled into a wingchair. The comforter was folded securely around the warming pan and placed in her lap. Victoria laid the shrilling baby facedown across the warm comforter and Doro slowly rocked him, patting his back. Gradually his cries of distress lessened. When he had fallen asleep, Doro placed him back into his cradle.