To Marry a Marquess (25 page)

He walked out of the room with a mute Margueretta trailing behind him, her owl-like eyes growing wider.

Stanby clenched his teeth in frustration. "Indeed!"

"Did you say something, Stanby?" Drake appeared in the hall, his expression blank as he took in his butler’s face which seemed rather flushed. "Are you ill?"

"Not ill, my lord. I am ready to drown a discourteous imp."

"A what?"

"I said, I am steady, but frown at my discourteous limp."

Drake watched Stanby sweep out of the room and down the hall. Why, the man was not limping at all!

Later that day, Drake rode his horse back to the stables and turned toward his groom. "Parks, did I see my grandmother's carriage heading over the road?"

"I believe so, my lord."

As he dismounted, Drake shook his head, thinking that perhaps one of the guests for the party needed to return to London. Yet he was surprised that they had not used their own carriage or his father's coach for the drive. The birthday party was a surprise for Victoria, and the guests were staying in either the village or the duke's home. It was probably one of his grandmother's friends.

"William, what are you doing?" Drake noticed the boy's frown as he stood outside the stable, throwing sticks at the ground.

The boy looked up. "Nothing."

"Nothing? Somehow, I believe you are only telling me a half-truth."

William kicked a pebble. "Botheration! At least you listen sometimes. I will tell you because you
are
a brother pirate."

It took every bit of effort for Drake to keep a straight face. "And we pirates stick together?"

William nodded and took a confident step forward. "Well then, you can see how things be, matie. Tonight is Vicki's birthday party, but if you're still planning to have it, you might want to know about her surprise, too."

"Drake, a word with you!" James came striding toward them.

Drake patted William's head. "Go on and play, lad."

"But I have important information about the princess."

"Tell me later."

"Never," William said as he stomped ahead of them. "Never. Never. Never."

Drake turned to James. "What's so important?"

"The subject concerns Wendover and it's not pretty."

"What?"

"Fox has discovered the man owes a great sum from White's betting books. The handsome earl may make the ladies swoon, but the man is not allowed inside the club until he pays up."

Drake watched William hurry away. What the devil was the boy so fired up about? "I know about his debts."

"You do?"

"Yes. But I don't know where he is. At least he won't be at the party tonight. I was hoping to comer him in the library."
And pummel his brains.

James frowned. "There's something you are not telling me.

Drake looked off in the distance. "Wilkins was here."

"And?"

"He had surprising information about Victoria that I believe Wendover may have had an interest in."

Drake gave his brother the details of the findings and James looked back, stunned.

"So you're telling me that Lady Victoria is eighty thousand pounds richer as of today and our dear departed Nightham was a crook. And now Wendover wants her money, too?"

Drake's jaw went rigid with rage as he thought about the information Wilkins sent him yesterday. "I believe so. In addition, Wilkins informed me by letter that Wendover has had two previous heiresses for wives who died under mysterious circumstances."

"And the man suddenly popped back into Victoria's life," James said grimly. "Devious man."

"Not only does he have debts at White's, but he's been spending time in Brighton and Bath trying to swindle many a wealthy gentleman. Seems his luck keeps running out. My guess is while in a drunken stupor he might have said something to Nightham about Victoria or the other way around. Somehow they both discovered her trust before she did."

Drake recalled the pain in Victoria's eyes and felt a stab of guilt. "Confound it, James. I'd like to strangle them both if I could."

"By Jove, Fox was right after all. You love her!"

Drake stiffened. "Love has nothing to do with it."

"But of course you love her. She is nothing like Honoria."

"Now, you're beginning to sound like our grandmother."

James grinned. "The lady has you coiled and twisted like one of those curls hanging from her head."

"If you wish to live out the day, James, make your way back to the house. Now!"

James scooted back a step, his eyes sparkling. "Ah, I shall depart and leave you to your daydreams. Adieu, Romeo."

After his talk with James, Drake walked into Percy Hall, knowing his feeling for Victoria was more than the boyish crush he had felt for Honoria.
But love her?

She was different from most of the beauties he knew in the
ton.
Victoria cared for others more than herself. She was devoted to her family. She had qualities hard to find in London Society where appearance and money were the world.

Moreover, Drake knew Victoria was not immune to his touch. The birthday party this evening would be just the thing to prepare her for his announcement of their engagement. Though she had avoided him the past two days, he hoped her temper had cooled enough for her to at least have a dance with him. However, he had a few last minute details to work out with his grandmother.

"Drake!" William called from the floor below him. "I have to talk to you! Pirate to pirate!"

"Not now, William."

"But—"

"William, I distinctly said, not now."

"Humph!" The small boy sat on the bottom step and took out his second in command. "They never listen to me, Whitie. Never. At the party tonight, I'll show them all."

Sparkling chandeliers shimmered upon the dance floor. The orchestra played a sweet concerto as Drake strolled into the ballroom holding a glass of wine in his hands. It would be at least an hour before the guests appeared.

"Drake," Sarah said, stopping him. "Have you seen Victoria?"

"No, I was rather hoping she would be with you."

Sarah lifted her shoulders and laughed. "Oh, I imagine she's still getting dressed.  Aunt Phoebe told her yesterday that we were having a little party tonight with a few close friends. I have tried to avoid her for the past few days in fear I might tell her about our little surprise. There’s not much we don't confide in each other."

"Nothing?" Drake lifted his brow. How interesting? He wondered if Victoria had mentioned anything about the inn.

Sarah's eyes twinkled. "Almost nothing."

They suddenly directed their gazes toward William, dressed in a dark blue jacket and pants, standing behind the damask curtains at the end of the room.

"The boy looks rather uncomfortable in his outfit," Drake said, a smile on his lips.

"William wished Victoria a happy birthday," Sarah said with a chuckle. "But he almost told her everything before I had to wrap my hand around his mouth and drag him from her bedchamber. She has been sleeping all afternoon and she gave the maid the evening off to celebrate her birthday. I suspect she's having to use your grandmother's abigail this evening."

"Do I dare ask you to excuse yourself and deliver her as soon as possible? I believe we should inform her who the guest of honor is before the guests arrive."

Sarah's blue eyes twinkled. "Of course, I was meaning to leave and check on her. I should be but a minute."

Five minutes later, Drake noted Sarah's return to the ballroom. She seemed distraught as she made a direct line to her aunt. He could not help but feel a faint twinge of foreboding.

"Gone! Mercy me, I cannot believe it," Phoebe replied, swaying precariously toward Sarah.

The duke immediately grabbed the older lady's elbow and escorted her to the nearest chair.

"Is something amiss?" Drake demanded, making his way across the room.

The duke turned, a frown settling across his face. "It seems Lady Victoria had business in London. She has left the premises."

"Left the premises?" His voice rose above the music.

Sarah dabbed a handkerchief to her wet face. "She left us this letter."

"It is inconceivable that Victoria left by herself," Phoebe wailed. "Oh, to leave without a maid. What is to become of her? George, the danger that one comes across with highwaymen and such. A lady alone out there. Why on earth would she leave us?"

The lady looked up at Drake as if he were the reason Victoria flew from the bosom of her family.

The duke's raised brow suggested the same.

Drake clenched his teeth and snatched the letter from Sarah's shaking hands. Danger, indeed. It was more likely danger from him than anyone else.

Dear Aunt Phoebe,

Please forgive me for my hasty departure, but I must leave for London. I cannot tell you my reasons. However, by now you must know that I have a trust worth 80,000 pounds, so you need not worry about my situation. I hope that I will return to you as soon as possible. Please do not seek me out. I am staying with a friend. I love you all, and tell Sarah and William not to worry.

Your loving niece,

Victoria

"Not to worry," Drake mumbled sarcastically. He crumpled the paper in his hands. Why the blazes did she leave? Was she afraid of him? Had he been so callous that she could not stay near him? Or had it something to do with Wendover? Bewilderment yielded quickly to a white-hot fury.

"I tried to tell you!" William's voice blasted through the orchestra's melody. "But noooooo, you would not listen to me." The boy held his chin high and began to walk out of the ballroom.

Drake grabbed the back of William's coat, dragging the boy backward. "What do you mean
you tried to tell us?"

"I tried to tell you that she was in trouble, but you ignored me. Remember?" His eyes welled with tears.

Drake recalled the child's constant interruptions earlier that day. Guilt sank into his belly like a cold, hard ball. What kind of man was he that he couldn't listen to a six-year-old boy? Or that a woman would flee his side because she was afraid of him? What terrible thing was she hiding that she couldn't trust him?

The women in London adored him. He was a prize on the marriage mart. Mamas of eligible misses scurried his way like dogs to a bone just for a word with him. But one lady was not impressed. Was it his pride that was hurt? Or did he hurt because he loved her? Or blast it all, was it the combination of the two?

Chapter Sixteen

W
hen Victoria arrived in the West End of London at Nightham Manor, she was led to the drawing room by a lanky butler named Booster. Taking a seat on the worn sofa, she gazed nervously about the dimly lit room. The sparse candlelight confirmed her thoughts. Nightham and his family had been in desperate straits. Charles must have used everything he had, leaving his mother with nothing.