Lovers' Lies (10 page)

Piper looked so ridiculously hopeful Victoria couldn’t stifle a giggle. And that quickly, her spirits and appetite were restored.

The dread of facing the other guests vanished.

Breakfast was an informal, relaxed affair and Victoria enjoyed the witty, adult company she so often craved.

A hush descended when Keir entered the dining room. He crossed to Victoria, expression shuttered.
 

The other house guests studiously averted their gazes. Victoria wished for nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow her.
 

Was Keir about to rehash that ugly scene in front of everyone here? She inhaled a shaky breath struggling to remain composed.
 

"I'm sorry." He laid a hand on her shoulder for a moment. "I was out of order. Davina asked me to relay her apologies."

I'll just bet she did.

Not!

"Apologies accepted." She turned away to speak to Piper and, to her relief, Keir moved away, walking to the sideboard to serve himself breakfast.

Normal conversation resumed and she exhaled a shaky breath. With studious care, she never once allowed her glance to veer in Keir’s direction.

Her reaction to him was a potent time bomb.

When it exploded would any of them survive?

Chapter Six

A
t Darkhaven, most of the women had retired to their rooms. The men were out on the estate with Logan and Caine, touring the stables and talking horses.

This evening, the Donovans were hosting
'A Musical Soirée'
to raise funds for The Child Cancer Foundation.

Although somewhat bemused by the pretentious name, Victoria couldn’t fault the cause.

Nothing so common as a
'fundraiser'
for the Donovans.
 

A guest speaker from the foundation was to address the gathering and later, The Tin Roof Toms were to entertain.

The Donovan family opened Darkhaven for events several times a year to raise money for charity, and as a patron of the arts, they supported local talent.

Invitations to these events were coveted.

The Tin Roof Toms were a pizzicato quartet who plucked their string instruments with guitar picks instead of horse-hair bows. The group was popular and Victoria had wanted to hear them perform since forever.

Bored and restless, she paced.

The bedroom's opulence and dark green color oppressed her. She found the color suffocating and much preferred light, airy spaces. Her gaze landed on the silk flowers but she curbed the impulse to rip the damn thing apart.

Again.
 

If she did, she'd probably crush the horrid artificial things beneath her shoes.

Unable to bear being cooped up a moment longer; she sought sanctuary in the huge library Logan had shown her earlier.

The selection of books that filled the floor to ceiling shelves left her breathless with delight. She selected several tomes on Renaissance art and houses of the era and curled up in a deep leather armchair.

She was contracted to do the flowers for a mediaeval themed spring wedding in September.

The bride, determined to outdo her BFF's wedding wanted a pageant, complete with troubadours. The Donovan library was as good a place as any to start her research of the time period.

She would use this visit to her advantage.

Deep in concentration, she started when the door opened. She never moved, hoping she would not be noticed and whoever was there would go away.

"Ms. Scanlan?"

Victoria grimaced as she recognized Muriel Donovan's voice. She stood up, the books and the sketch pad she was making notes on spilling from her lap.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

"It's your home." Victoria shrugged. Her heart raced as she stooped to gather the fallen books and place them neatly on the table beside the chair.
 

She watched Muriel through lowered lashes as she sat in the chair opposite. "Your library makes me envious."

"Just the library?" Muriel’s well shaped eyebrows rose in question.

Victoria winced at the subtle snub. It was more than time to she met this woman’s animosity head on.

"Logan and I are friends, Mrs. Donovan."

"Then why are you here?" Muriel pleated the fabric of her skirt with restless fingers. The steel voice demanded an answer.

"Logan invited me. If my intention was to trap him and all this—" Victoria waved an expressive hand at the well-stocked library—"I could have accepted any one of his proposals over the past two years."

The woman stiffened as if someone had jabbed her with a poker. "You don’t consider my son good enough for you?"

Oh boy. I'm damned if I do and damned if I don’t.

This woman was impossible to please. The implication angered her. The gloves were well and truly off.
 

"I treasure his friendship."

"Don't misunderstand me. This situation is so puzzling."

To you and me both.
"I suggest you ask Logan?"

"I have." The woman shook her head in defeat. "He's always been a clam about his friends and you in particular."

So Logan has his mother’s measure?

She should have been pleased but this made Victoria even warier.

"You can be proud of him." She tried to mollify the older woman, even as she felt a sneaking, inconvenient sympathy. Her weekend house party was filled with undercurrents of tension.

"I am." Her voice was full of simple pride. "My son's happiness means everything to me. So does the harmony in my household."

Had Keir's mother cast a long shadow over this woman’s life?
 

"That's understandable." Victoria watched the restless hand pleating and un-pleating the delicate fabric.
 

Muriel looked at Victoria with ice-blue eyes so like her son's. She looked guileless, but Victoria remained uneasy.

"I find it intolerable that you've managed to set Logan and Keir against each other."

So Logan's mother was aware of that ugly scene before breakfast. "That wasn't my doing."

"Maybe," Muriel said, "But it was you who attacked another guest."

Victoria rose from the chair and crossed the room, and then turned and faced Muriel. "And
your guest
has the right to insult anyone who crosses her path?"

The older woman took an indignant breath. "Is the truth insulting?"

Victoria inhaled deeply, fighting down temper. What was it with Davina and this woman? When she remained silent, Muriel gave a disdainful sniff.
 

 
"It's taken more than a decade to heal the breach between Keir and his father. I won't have it reopened."

Victoria shook her head in disbelief. "I’m not the person who lied to Keir, Mrs. Donovan. I never told him Elizabeth was dead. Surely you must have known that sooner or later he'd discover your lies?"

"How dare you?" A hissing breath escaped Muriel. Her hands fisted on the fabric of her skirt. "That woman is not spoken of in this house. It would have been better for everyone if the slut had died. But of course she never co-operated."

The horrible words sent a cold shiver down Victoria’s spine.

How could she ever, for even one moment, have thought this woman was soft? Muriel Donovan was tempered steel, her eyes radiated hatred.

There’s nothing charming about Muriel. Forget that at your peril.

Despite Keir’s warning, Victoria refused to back away from this confrontation.

Why was Muriel so keen to push her stepson into a loveless alliance? For Donovans? Victoria dismissed that. No one was that altruistic. What was in it for Muriel?

"Is that why you abused Keir as a child? Because he was Elizabeth's son?"

Slow, mottled color crept up under Muriel's sallow skin. Her hands clenched into fists. "I never abused Keir."

"Didn't you?" Victoria paced in front of the library windows. "I can understand you hating Elizabeth. But why take your anger out on Keir?"

"You don't know what you're talking about." Muriel fairly vibrated with anger.

"Don't I? It's you who's blind. Keir's going to be so unhappy married to Davina Strathmore."

Victoria now very angry, refused to back down.
 

"I've no idea what you're talking about." Muriel's eyes glittered with hostility. "Davina will make a fitting wife for the CEO of Donovans."

A very unladylike snort escaped Victoria. "Keir may be CEO of Donovans, but he's also very much a man."

A man who'd already been so badly hurt.
 

"Keir should be grateful Davina is prepared to overlook his imperfect bloodlines. Not many women would."

Unsure she'd heard correctly, Victoria caught her ear lobe and waggled it. "Pardon?"

Muriel’s too uppity by half, she's forgotten her roots.
Dan Sinclair's words were a tinny echo.
 

"You heard."

"I'd much rather have Keir's bloodlines than yours."

Victoria ignored Muriel's sputtering, crossed the room and looked down at her. "You don't even care do you? It's a social coup. Keir doesn’t deserve to be happy. After all, he's the son of the woman your husband once loved. The woman you've spent a lifetime despising."

Victoria shook her head, but the image of a hurt, unhappy little boy with solemn brown eyes refused to be dislodged.

No wonder he’d grown into a hard embittered man?
 

Would Connor be disillusioned with the father he craved to know? And should Keir marry Davina, would the woman prevent any chance of a relationship developing between father and son?
 

Especially given Connor was Victoria's child.

"You're crazy." Dull color washed up Muriel's skin, the ice-blue eyes flashed venom.

"Me?" Victoria gave a scornful laugh. "Tell me, Mrs. Donovan, what's in this for you?"

The question brought the older woman out of the chair as fast as a scalded cat. "Keir's an engaged man. The invitations are ready to be sent out for the wedding. Nothing, including a money hungry nobody, will interfere with our arrangements."

The older woman’s expression prickled Victoria’s skin with icy needles. She wanted to be certain she was receiving the right message. "You expect me to get out of Keir’s life?"

"Be realistic, Ms. Scanlan." Muriel's smile was anything but sweet. "A summer fling is one thing, but marriage to the Donovan heir, another entirely. Don't imagine Keir will toss aside a match with Davina Strathmore for a nobody like you."

The contemptuous insult had Victoria grinding her teeth as she forced down temper.

"It would suit you so well if I decided to leave wouldn't it?" Logan or her father would have recognized her silky tone. "Tell me, could you make it worth my while?"

"I knew you were a sensible girl." Muriel was so pleased with her imagined victory Victoria clenched her hands into fists to prevent doing something rash. "I have a check for you."

Muriel withdrew a check from a pocket giving it to Victoria. She barely suppressed a gasp when she saw the number of zeros.
 

With careful deliberation, Victoria studied the check and then looked directly at Muriel as she tore it in half and then half again, and let the pieces flutter to the floor.

Muriel made a spluttering sound of shock.

"I may not be rich, Mrs. Donovan, but I'm not unscrupulous," she said, her voice icy with contempt.
 

"I never suggested you were." Muriel clenched and unclenched her hands.
 

"That check says otherwise." Victoria's spine stiffened as she stepped closer to this objectionable woman. "And understand this Mrs. Donovan. I won't be out of Keir's life, even if he does marry Ms. Strathmore. And he, Mrs. Donovan, will keep contact with me. I can guarantee this, if nothing else."

Victoria knew, as sure as she took her next breath, that Keir would not ignore his son.

Once he knew of Connor's existence.

Muriel couldn't know this. High spots of color marked her cheeks. "Davina’s right. You’re immoral and unscrupulous."

"Is that so?" Victoria smiled, Knowing it would enrage Logan's mother, she stooped and picked up the pieces of torn check. "It will be interesting to see how Keir, Logan or Caine react to your attempt at bribery."

The woman let out a strangled gasp and snatched the pieces of torn paper from Victoria's grasp.

"Is Davina running scared? This smacks of a cozy little scheme you’ve cooked up between the two of you." Victoria knew she’d stumbled on the truth when Muriel colored in agitation.