Wildblossom (34 page)

Were those footsteps she heard coming from behind? Vivian was rounding the corner of a black iron fence as she allowed herself a backward glance, and then collided with a strange man. Nerves overcame her and she let out a scream as she tumbled backward toward the pavement.

"I say! I'm dreadfully sorry, miss!"

The fellow who had frightened her now looked perfectly gallant, reaching out to help her up, smiling with the kindest eyes she'd ever seen. "Thank you, sir." She smiled in return. "It was my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Permit me to introduce myself. I am Charles Lipton-Lyons, a childhood friend of the new Duke of Aylesbury. Do you know His Grace?" Intrigued by her American accent, Charles set her on her feet and found that she was much smaller than he. There was something fragile and vulnerable about this mysterious young woman.

"Actually, I do, sir, but you mustn't tell him you've met me!" Her eyes were big as she lay a finger over her lips. "It's a secret! I've come to see Mr. Manypenny, not Mr. Weston."

"Then, let me take you to Manypenny. Geoff's right in the morning room in front of the house, trapped with his mother, so I'll sneak you in the back, all right?" He took her tiny hand and noted the flush that crept into her pale cheeks. "Aren't you going to tell me your name?"

"Promise not to tell?"

"If you'll call me Charles."

"All right, Charles." She leaned forward, feeling coquettish for the first time in her life. "My name is Vivian."

Powerfully relieved to find that this wasn't Shelby the ranch girl, Charles beamed at her. "Good enough. You can tell me the rest of your name the next time we meet." They started toward the servants' entrance to Sandhurst House. "Are you going to be in London very long? I would be delighted to show you the sights!"

"That would be very nice." They lingered outside the door for a moment, shivering in the wintry wind that blew up from the Thames. "But Charles, I'll have to send word to you... and first you must promise again that you won't breathe a word to your friend about me."

"I do promise, and I'm becoming quite fed up with saying so! In any case, Geoff has so much on his mind right now that he doubtless wouldn't register—"

This time Viv lay a finger over Charles's mouth, then drew back as she realized how daring she'd been. With his neat dark hair, mustache, and ruddy complexion, he seemed kind and sweetly earnest. "Just promise."

"I bloody do." His heart was thudding with excitement as he reached into his breast pocket and took a calling card from a silver case. "You can reach me anytime. Would you like to have dinner, and then perhaps go with me to the Hippodrome?"

"I have to go now. Mr. Manypenny is waiting for me." With that, Vivian slipped through the door and left Charles Lipton-Lyons wondering if he'd been conversing with a fairy. Vivian was the most ethereal woman he'd ever met.

* * *

"If not for your approaching nuptials, my dear Geoffrey, I would have returned to Yorkshire within the week of your father's passing." Edith Weston, Dowager Duchess of Aylesbury, sat stiffly on a gold gilt chair in the pristine morning room. Still beautiful at sixty, she wore her widow's black as if it were a fashion statement; a stunning contrast with her upswept mass of snow-white hair. "I would much prefer to spend the winter at Aylesbury Castle, where I might grieve in private. Now I understand why Queen Victoria stayed at Windsor Castle, removed from London, after she lost Prince Albert."

Geoff poured milk into his tea. "For God's sake, Mother, I hope you don't hold the queen up as your model for widowhood. She was in mourning for
forty
years!"

"I will not allow you to make clever remarks on this subject."

He took a breath before replying, "You might save yourself aggravation if you could accept the fact that you are not able to control the words I speak."

"If only fate had not decreed that you would be the only child born to us, I might place less importance on your behavior. As it is, all the world is focused on you, Geoffrey. Everyone is watching, waiting to discover if the new Duke of Aylesbury is half the man his father was." She paused, pursed her lips slightly, then added, "Don't gulp your tea, dear boy. One must
sip."

Rising, Geoff walked to the windows facing the Strand and suppressed an urge to claw the glass.
How could this be happening? How could she say such asinine things?

"Mother, I realize that you are having a difficult time of it, and I do sympathize. After all, I have lost my father, so I'm grieving as well."

"Are
you?" Edith parried in acid tones.

"I am not going to apologize to you for refusing to be molded like a lump of clay," Geoff said coldly. "I won't pretend that I'm enjoying my life here, but I am trying to cultivate the sense of obligation that Father believed to be so crucial to a worthwhile existence. I am aware that I have certain duties simply because I am the sole heir."

"This privileged life is a blessing, not a curse, dear boy."

He walked back to stand before her, impeccably turned out in riding clothes, a white four-in-hand tie, and gleaming black boots. "I wish I believed that; it would make everything so much easier."

"Well, at least you
look
like a duke! I couldn't wish for a handsomer son. And we've found you a bride who understands the noble life, so one can only hope that it will all work out in the end, hmm?"

"I wish I could stay and continue this thought-provoking conversation, but I must exercise Thor. May I see you out, Mother?"

The dowager duchess gave him a bored smile that was eerily like his own. "I'm not going just yet. Our wonderful Clementine is arriving momentarily, and we are going to sort through your china, crystal, and linens to see how much will have to be discarded. Your bachelor things simply won't do for your married household, Geoffrey."

It felt to Geoff as if a vise were tightening around his chest. From the doorway, he turned to deliver a subtle counterattack. "Oh, by the way—did I tell you that I'm dismissing the estate manager at Sandhurst Manor?"

Her Grace gasped. "Is this your notion of a jest?"

"Not at all. I'm going to begin looking after the estates myself, not only because the work will do me good, but also because we can do with a bit of economy. Have you any idea how large a death duty we must pay?" His brows arched slightly. "Times are changing and I intend to face reality."

"Why... this is simply shocking, Geoffrey!" She sank back in the chair, her hand to her heart. "Managing one's own estate would be so... undignified!"

"I mean to do it anyway. Good-bye, Mother." He strode out of the morning room and left the house by the front door, nodding to the servants.

Outside, Geoff noticed a tall, bald-headed man resembling Manypenny. The fellow was on the other side of the fence, handing a thin young woman with pale hair and a blue hat into a hansom cab. Geoff was about to dismiss the two strangers and turn toward the stables when the cab set off briskly and the bald man started back toward Sandhurst House.

"Gad! It
is
you!" Geoff couldn't help laughing as he walked up the drive to meet Manypenny. "I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me."

The old gentleman was decidedly uncomfortable. "No, Your Grace, they were not... playing tricks."

"How many times have I asked you not to call me that?"

"More than I can count... sir."

"Then unless you've gone soft in the head, I see no reason for you to persist in using that ridiculously exalted form of address!" Geoff scowled, then a twinkle returned to his eyes as he remembered the spectacle of his manservant skulking about with a fair-haired girl young enough to be his granddaughter. "Now then, you must tell me what you were up to with that pretty young lady I glimpsed. You aren't carrying on some sort of love affair in secret...?"

"Certainly not, sir!" Manypenny spluttered. He then had a thought that caused him to recover his composure. "Am I not entitled to a bit of privacy? Yes? I thought so. If you'll pardon me, sir, I must return to my duties."

He left Geoff staring after him in consternation. Walking back to the house, Manypenny dipped his head, not only to avoid the wind, but also to hide the smile he could no longer suppress. How smashing it had been to see Vivian Croll, and to know that Shelby and Benjamin and even the horses, Gadabout and Charlie, were right here in London! It would be hard to refrain from seeking Shelby out, for Manypenny truly adored her, but Mrs. Croll had convinced him that they must work together to bring off a grander scheme. Since neither His Grace nor Shelby seemed to know what they must do, it was left to others to intervene....

* * *

Shelby had been practicing relaxation exercises for two weeks preceding her debut with the Wild West Show, and now, on March 14, 1903, she lay on her cot with her eyes closed just an hour before the performance was scheduled to begin.

"I can't believe you're this composed," Vivian exclaimed as she burst into the tent. "Ben is
shaking,
and his part is nearly all behind the scenes!"

"Well, you know me." Slowly, Shelby sat up and smiled at her friend. "If I'd been left to my own devices, I would have been a bundle of nerves by today, and then I'd've shot someone's head off! It was Chief Iron Tail who explained that I could train myself to be calm. He's a wonderful, wise man."

"Are you going to get dressed now?" Vivian opened the beautiful trunk that Buffalo Bill had given Shelby when she joined the Wild West Show. A near duplicate of the one Annie Oakley traveled with, it unfolded to reveal drawers that held her costumes, and boasted a dresser top with a mirror built in.

"I've never seen you so excited, Viv!" Laughing, Shelby put her arm around her as she was swept by a wave of affection. "Have I told you that I couldn't manage without you? Even Colonel Cody is grateful to you for persuading him to invite King Edward and Queen Alexandra to attend today. He had been uncertain, but now that they're coming, he's convinced that this is the event that will turn things around for the tour."

"I was afraid that you'd be angry when you learned I'd suggested that they sit in the royal box the same day as your debut," she replied nervously.

"Well, I've decided it's just as well. I'll admit just to you, Viv, that I do think about Geoff. At least so far, no one knows I'm here and my name hasn't been in the advertisements. If the king and queen had attended after I'd begun performing, Geoff might've accompanied them, and I couldn't bear that."

"Don't you think he might be here today?"

Shelby shook her head emphatically. "No! It's too near his wedding, and if he were nostalgic for reminders of Wyoming, he would have visited already. I think he's avoiding me as much as I'm avoiding him." Her eyes shone as she added, "It's just as well, Viv. I've had enough heartache. I just want to get this tour over with so that we can go home."

Vivian wasn't so sure she would go home, given her hasty departure just before the inevitable discovery of Bart's body. She also wasn't sure she wanted to leave London. Charles Lipton-Lyons had taken her out for two long, exciting, chaste evenings of suppers and theater, and it was all she could do not to tell Shelby about him. Shelby thought Viv was visiting an ancient aunt who lived in Bayswater.

"This costume is ridiculous," Shelby pronounced as she turned around to be fastened up the back. "Maybe Annie Oakley could get away with it, but—"

"You look just perfect!" Vivian handed her a wide-brimmed straw hat. From a distance they could hear the opening notes of the "Star Spangled Banner" wafting into the camp village. "We'd better hurry! You're the third act on the program!"

Taking deep breaths to keep herself calm, Shelby looked around to make certain Ben had all her firearms and accessories at the showgrounds. She took a last peek in the mirror, laughed at her reflection, and let Viv pull her out of the tent.

* * *

"It was splendid of you to accompany us today, Geoff," King Edward VII said as his party settled itself in the royal box. "Having just come from Buffalo Bill's own town in the American West, you doubtless will bring an authentic perspective to our outing."

"The last time we attended, the performance was spectacular," Queen Alexandra chimed in. "Have you been to the Wild West Show, Lady Clementine?"

"No. I haven't."

The queen took a moment to see that her grandsons, Prince Edward and Prince Albert, were settled, leaving the bride-to-be an opportunity to fume.

The last thing Clementine had wanted to do was remind Geoff of his months in Wyoming, for it was quite apparent to her that the experience had changed him. Even before he went away, he certainly hadn't been happy, but at least he'd been witty and bold and fond of sex, or so she'd heard. Since his return to England, and especially since he'd become Duke of Aylesbury, Geoff's characteristic air of boredom seemed to have a harder edge. That didn't bode well for their marriage... but when Lady Clem discussed the matter with Charles Lipton-Lyons, he had assured her that Geoff would forget about Wyoming in time.

The American ambassador and Mrs. Choate were seated behind the betrothed couple, and now they leaned forward to engage Clementine in conversation about her wedding plans. Geoff was grateful, for he found it impossible to behave as an attentive fiancé ought. Listening to the cowboy band play a sort of overture, he felt a painful yearning for everything he'd loved about Wyoming. It hurt even to think of the town of Cody, of the tumbleweeds and Jakie Schwoob and Purcell's Saloon and the splendid views that marked the South Fork Road... but he still tried to block Shelby from his mind. When she did appear, unbidden and burningly real, Geoff felt angry—with fate, he supposed.