Gayle Buck (14 page)

“Come, Lady Victoria. I think it time that we left John and his men to do their work,” said Lord Damion. He had washed off his hands and arms in a bucket of clean water and now donned his coat.

“I will come willingly, sir,” said Victoria.

Lord Damion escorted her from the stable. Victoria put back her head to breathe deeply of the clean air. “Isn’t it a glorious morning!” she exclaimed.

Lord Damion concurred, hardly able to take his eyes from her vibrant eyes and the smooth curve of her cheek. He had never known a woman who could be at once so frank and so intriguing. He reached up to pluck a stray straw out of her hair and grinned. “Straw becomes you, madame, but I fear that others would not regard it lightly when you have been in my company all the morning.”

Victoria felt herself reddening and to cover her sudden confusion said flippantly, “Innocence is forever suspect in the eyes of others. I perceive that a rake’s lot is a hard one, my lord!” She was busily brushing off her skirt once more and did not see her companion’s startled face.

Lord Damion schooled his expression and when Victoria looked up again she saw only his amusement. “You are an extraordinary woman, Lady Victoria,” he said, and left it at that as he escorted her back into the manor. He spoke only of Starfire and her foals on the short trip through the side passage to the main hall.

Evelyn hailed them from the open door of the sitting room where he was engaged in a solitary game of billiards. “Cousin Victoria, St. Claire! I heard that Starfire was foaling this morning. Have you seen the colt?”

“I shall be with you in a moment, Evelyn,” said Lord Damion. He turned to Victoria, who had started up the stairs. Raising her hand to his lips, he said, “Allow me to thank you for your capable assistance this morning, my lady.”

“I would not have missed it, my lord,” said Victoria with a mischievous light in her eyes.

Lord Damion contemplated her a moment, then said abruptly, “You were magnificent.” Victoria stared at him, startled. He stepped back to bow to her and then crossed the hall to join Evelyn.

Victoria turned to resume her ascent of the stairs and her eyes met Margaret’s frozen face. The woman had obviously heard the exchange between her and Lord Damion. Victoria could not help being glad, for she thought the woman’s arrogance intolerable, but offered a civil greeting and immediately forgot Margaret as her thoughts settled happily on Starfire and her foals. When she reached her door, she discovered that Margaret had followed her.

“You have created a niche for yourself very quickly, Lady Victoria,” Margaret said. “I must certainly congratulate you on your superior tactics.”

Victoria’s brows rose. “I beg your pardon?”

Margaret laughed spitefully. “Come now, Lady Victoria. You have been here but a few days and already you have two staunch allies. It was a stroke of genius to make yourself friendly to poor Doro, for Evelyn will defend the basest creature on the road if Doro feels kindly toward it. And Sir Aubrey has let his partiality for Charles March blind him to your duplicity. He is truly a senile fool.”

“Mrs. Giddings, you are speaking of our host,” said Victoria levelly. She did not much care for Sir Aubrey herself, but it was beyond good
ton
at once to accept his hospitality and to tear him down behind his back.

Margaret snapped her fingers. “I give that for Sir Aubrey. He is nothing to me.” Her eyes narrowed. “However, Lord Damion is a different matter. These pretty tales you have spun about Charles March and his sketches were clever. Even Sir Aubrey stayed awake long enough to listen. But you will need more than imagined nonsense about a dead cousin to hold Lord Damion’s interest for long, my lady!”

Victoria put her hand on her doorknob. “I perceive that we are about to cover the same ground that we did during your nocturnal visit, so I shan’t detain you. Good day, Mrs. Giddings.”

She opened the door and started through, but Margaret pulled her around by the arm. “You and your fine airs!” she hissed. “I’ll not be outdone by a common army baggage. You may have fooled the others for now, but inevitably you shall make a fatal error, my fine lady, and then I shall enjoy watching your speedy departure.”

Victoria looked at her coolly. “How extremely vulgar you are, Mrs. Giddings. I’m not at all surprised that my presence arouses such jealousy in you, for Lord Damion strikes me as a man who would prefer a lady to a shrew.”

Margaret stared at her, amazed, then suddenly threw back her head in a peal of laughter. When she looked again at Victoria, her violet eyes were contemptuous. “I? Jealous of a drab creature like you! You poor fool, what have you to offer the Demon? I can speak from experience, my lady. Lord Damion prefers a sophisticated woman who is prepared to satisfy his every whim. Believe me, my dear, you hardly qualify.”

Victoria felt a surge of anger impossible to contain. She said hastily, “And certainly your own vast experience qualifies you to satisfy a rakehell. Or any other man, for that matter!”

Margaret gasped. “How dare you—” She slapped Victoria hard across the cheek. “Leave this house at once!”

Victoria immediately slapped her back, hard enough to rock her on her heels. Margaret stared at her with shocked eyes, one hand shielding her stinging cheek.

Victoria’s eyes blazed, yet she spoke softly. “Do not ever again presume to deal me such treatment, madame. I will not tolerate it. Furthermore, I shall interact with whomever I choose in this house. And pray spare yourself further humiliation and recall in the future that I am a member of this household while you are the guest!” She turned on her heel and slammed the bedroom door in the woman’s face.

Her face was flushed and her breast rose swift with her anger as she met her maid’s half-frightened eyes. Victoria forced a laugh. “I do apologize, Mary. You must have heard every word. You must believe me a perfect savage.”

“Oh no!” exclaimed Mary. “Your ladyship was wonderful. Ye have set madame in her place proper.”

Victoria accepted the little maid’s help in unbuttoning her dress. “I take it that you do not care for Mrs. Giddings, Mary?”

“Oh, nobbut does, m’lady,” said Mary earnestly. “She is always wanting this or the other done and never satisfied. Not at all like your ladyship, to be sure. It was a good day when madame’s own dresser finally came. We had all come to fear that she had run off, belike!”

Victoria burst out laughing. “Oh Mary, you do have the knack of restoring my good humor.”

“Aye, m’lady,” said Mary agreeably, though unsure what she had said that had restored her ladyship’s spirits. After Victoria had bathed in the basin, Mary efficiently helped her to change into a soft lavender gown with pearl buttons. Victoria slipped her slender feet into soft kid slippers and sat down at the vanity so Mary could brush her hair. The maid was giving a last pat to Victoria’s short curly hair when the luncheon bell rang.

Victoria rose from her seat and gave Mary a quiet dismissal. Her expression was composed and her appearance impeccable. No one could have guessed that under the surface her anger still smoldered. The more Victoria had thought about her confrontation with Mrs. Giddings, the more she realized that she was not so much bothered by the woman’s spite as by her contempt.

Victoria felt sorely tempted to show the woman up. She knew she could capture Lord Damion’s interest if she wished, for she thought she understood that gentleman very well.
And I can feel you urging me to it, dear Charles. You always were one for a challenge
, thought Victoria dryly. But Lord Damion was not a man to be idly trifled with. Victoria had once been recipient of his wrath and she did not want to be so again. She would need to tread warily with that gentleman if she was not to arouse the demon sleeping within him.

Chapter Fifteen

On Sunday morning the family went to their first public chapel service since Lord Robert’s death. Their appearance caused a stir in the congregation.

Sir Aubrey haughtily ignored the curious glances that followed him as he escorted Lady Hortense to the March family pew. Lord Damion followed with Victoria and there were whispers as several individuals recognized him. “But whoever is that with him? Surely he has not married?” asked one lady of another. Her neighbor intimated that perhaps Lord Damion’s companion was one of those Cyprians that they had heard about. The first lady drew her breath in sharply and frankly stared at Victoria.

Evelyn and Margaret brought up the rear. Dorothea had felt unwell that morning and Evelyn, resigned to his fate, escorted his sister-in-law. He would have vastly preferred his new cousin’s company, but Lady Victoria March took social precedence over Margaret and so she was accompanied by Lord Damion.

Margaret liked such distinctions as little as Evelyn, but was somewhat consoled to find herself seated in the pew beside Lord Damion. Well pleased, she glanced down at her heavenly blue pelisse trimmed with black velvet ribbons. The family members all wore mourning and Lady Victoria a half-mourning gown of pale lavender velvet. Surrounded by her companions’ more somber hues, Margaret stood out like a bright jewel. She knew that the contrast had excited interest in the congregation and she smilingly acknowledged the admiring glances of the gentlemen with a complete disregard for their wives’ outrage.

After the service ended, several neighbors came up to offer their condolences. Lady Hortense received them gracefully.

Sir Aubrey maintained a haughty air that put off all but the stoutest characters, but even he was kind in his remarks when Squire Terrell and his lady stopped to offer their sympathy. “I appreciate your sentiments,” Sir Aubrey said. “His lordship was not only my brother-in-law but my dear friend as well.” His nephew and Lady Victoria were making their way past at that moment and Sir Aubrey took the opportunity to introduce Lady Victoria to the bluff squire and his wife.

The squire’s heavy brows moved up and down with extraordinary rapidity as he regarded Victoria. “Charles March, heh? He was always in one scrape or another, that one. I thought it a pity when the earl cut him off without a farthing. Understandable, of course. Young March drove his lordship to fury with his wild ways. Then the boy took it into his head to join the army! His lordship could never abide the military, as young March well knew.” He shook his head in remembrance. “They were forever carping at one another. It was the disgrace of the county.”

Mrs. Terrell plucked at her husband’s sleeve. “Now his lordship did harbor a certain affection for the young man, dear. I am sure I never saw a prouder man than his lordship when Charles March was mentioned in the dispatches.”

The squire patted his wife’s plump, beringed hand. “True, my dear. I had forgotten.
It was an odd relationship, to be sure. His lordship was not the same man after young March was reported killed.”

Just then Victoria was claimed by Lord Damion and with relief she turned away from the squire and his lady. Lord Damion glanced down at her pensive expression and said in a low voice, “You are distressed, my lady. It was but an idle tongue, after all.”

Victoria looked up into his gaze. “But how much of it was truth, my lord?” She read the answer in his eyes and sighed. “I feared as much. Charles never conveyed to me that he was as much to blame as his father’s character for the breach between them.”

Lord Damion paused before the open carriage door to raise her gloved hand to his lips. He held her eyes with a steady glance. “The tragedy lies in the past, my lady.”

“Yes.” Victoria was warmed by his lordship’s sensitivity. She smiled up at him and pressed his fingers briefly. “Thank you, my lord.’ She turned and mounted the step into the carriage.

Lady Hortense stood close by in company with the reverend’s wife. Mrs. Pherson watched with interest the quiet exchange between Lord Damion and Lady Victoria, and in particular the seeming intimacy in their clasped hands. She hoped that she was as respectful of her betters as the next person, but she had heard of Lord Damion’s reputation and now felt she had proof of its truth. Mrs. Pherson had heard the gossip about how Lady Victoria March had arrived, without a female companion and in Lord Damion’s company. And as for the finely tricked-out creature on Evelyn St. Claire’s arm, Mrs. Pherson knew exactly what to make of her.
She
had not missed the coquettish glances that Mrs. Giddings so liberally dispensed. The woman was a born seductress, thought Mrs. Pherson with outrage.

Lord Damion turned to receive his mother. He bowed courteously to Mrs. Pherson. She nodded to him and said in freezing accents, “Good day, my lord.” After saying a brief farewell to Lady Hortense, Mrs. Pherson withdrew to greet a neighbor and drop a word in her ear about what she had observed.

Lord Damion’s brows rose in surprise at the woman’s stiff manner. As he assisted Lady Hortense into the carriage, he asked, “What have I done to affront the good reverend’s wife?”

Lady Hortense shrugged. “Oh, Adelia Pherson takes her odd humors now and then. Pray do not heed it, my dear.”

“I hope I am not such a poor creature to do so, dear ma’am,” retorted Lord Damion. He handed in Margaret and shut the carriage door.

Lady Hortense remarked to Victoria and Margaret as they returned home to the Crossing that they could expect the usual condolence calls to begin in a week.

“A high treat, to be sure,” said Margaret, smothering a yawn.

Lady Hortense’s prediction was borne out, for exactly one week later two carriages drove up to the Crossing within ten minutes of one another. The first carriage expelled Mrs. Pherson. Within five minutes, both Victoria and Margaret thoroughly detested her.

Mrs. Pherson commented disparagingly on the cost of London dresses, all the while eyeing Margaret’s exquisite merino and lace gown. “For I am sure our own dressmakers are as nimble with their needles but they know better than to charge more than the gown is worth,” she said. Upon being introduced to Victoria, Mrs. Pherson opined that the women who followed their husbands to war were certainly the oddest creatures. “They would do far better at home teaching their maids proper Christian thrift and humility.” Even Dorothea, good-natured as she was, preferred to address her sewing rather than converse with the woman and Lady Hortense found herself upholding the other end of a laborious conversation almost single-handedly.