Secrets in Mourning (10 page)

“I’m sure, my dear. And being here, you have much work… I mean things to oversee, I’m sure.”

Her head began to ache about the same time as her chest clinched. Looking around the room, trying to keep her cracked smile in place, she didn’t see one friendly smile among the group.

More like vultures, the women seemed to circle her, looking for any vulnerabilities that they could uncover. It was obvious that they had been called here for one purpose, and one purpose only, and that was to bring her down.

Dabbing her lips, she smiled at the group as she stood. “Pray, please forgive me, but you just reminded me of something I must see to. Please enjoy the rest of your lunch.”

The Countess glared at her in warning, but Victoria didn’t care. The room began to swirl by the time she walked to the doorway, a crushing pressure settled in her chest. Not knowing where to go, Victoria stumbled down the hall, rounding the corner before opening the door to the library. The servants were busy in the guest rooms today and weren’t scheduled to clean in there until tomorrow. And knowing the Earl’s schedule, he wouldn’t be using the room until evening.

Not that it matter. She just had to get away. Get away from all the smirking, snickering women.

Their faces crowded in her mind and she could see what they saw. A young, foolish woman who married a Duke. Outdated, unadorned gowns that were more suited to a country mouse than a duchess, even a dowered one. Her hair was plain, no combs garnished her hair. Her skin was pale, but not fashionably so, more sickly from fatigue. Her figure had lost some of its flesh, making the dress appear shapeless.

Closing her eyes tight, she sank deep into a chair by the fire. How had she come so low?

Hearing their taunts and seeing their sneers over again, she tried to cover her ears, tried to block out what they had to say to her, but with no luck.

Feeling it all crash upon her, a sob escaped her before she could stop it. Trying to smother it with her hand, she startled in horror that it had escaped, before another tumbled out.

It hurt. It truly did. Why what they said mattered, she didn’t know. They were a bunch of old women far from her home. But it did. Their cutting remarks, their criticism and pleasure at her expense were painful.

Loneliness settled deep within her, and seemed to explode throughout the rest of her body. She had no one. No friends, no family. No one who cared for her in any way.

The racking sobs that came next couldn’t be helped. There was no stopping them, no denying them. They came in waves as her body hunched over, her arms wrapping around her waist as if to hold herself together, to protect herself from shattering.

Was this how others had felt when she cut them down with a few short words? With a tiny rumor spread here or there. Was this the destruction she had caused in others?

The thought made her physically ill as she fought to control the nausea rising within her. What had she done? Good Lord, what had she done?

Chapter 7

“So, the ice princess can cry.” Connor’s lips quirked at the thought. However, when Lady Victoria’s head raised slowly, freshly tracked tears running down her cheeks, the smile faded as quickly as it had come.

He hadn’t realized she was truly crying. Hadn’t realized that she had been deeply hurt in some way. A part of him actually thought that she wasn’t capable of those feelings. Wasn’t capable of feeling the sting from anything.

“Go away. I don’t want to speak to you.” She didn’t bother wiping her tears, leaving them to stain her cheeks in all their glory.

He never felt comfortable with tears, but seeing her broken, he couldn’t leave. He took a step toward her before he even realized what he was doing. “No.” It was said simply. No reasoning, no justification.

He stepped in front of her, waiting for her to look up at him. Instead, she stood to meet him toe to toe, her body gently brushing against his.

He sucked in a sharp breath at the contact before cursing his desire. She wasn’t for him. She belonged in London where the glittering parties and balls ruled her life, where she could be ruthless in her pursuit of her next husband. The reminder of her character had him narrowing his eyes slightly, but he couldn’t fully squelch his desire for her.

Looking up, her eyes were swimming with deep emotion. “Why can’t you just leave me alone? I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to speak with you. And believe me, I am in no mood to take your gloating.” She looked over his shoulder briefly. “I’ve had enough taunting from one Lynwood this day,” she added softly.

“My mother.” It all made sense now. “What did she say?”

She shook her head forcefully as her lips pressed tightly together. “Nothing. Her party was lovely.”

“I see.” And he did. Lady Victoria didn’t have to tell him that his mother had invited her closest friends who would feel no guilt in tormenting Victoria if that was his mother’s wish. “What was said that upset you?” His voice sounded soothing, but his blood began to boil. He thought Victoria deserved anything she got when it came to his mother, them both being contentious, but seeing her hurt, seeing her cry, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

Her face scrunched up. “What part of ‘nothing’ do you not understand? I have no wish to speak with you about it. You’ve made your feelings about me perfectly clear.”

He reached out, gripping her arms. “Tell me what she did to you. I won’t have anyone treated this way in my home.”

She laughed bitterly. “I see. So what, you’ll go to your mother and tell her to stop bullying me? To stop making fun of how far down I’ve come in the world?”

His jaw clenched. “So, that’s what happened.”

“That’s beside the point.”

“Not to me. I won’t tolerate that behavior in my home.”

“You can’t just go up to her and tell her to stop. It will only make her upset that you know about it and it will continue on even worse than before.”

“Of course I can. She wouldn’t dare go against what I have to say.”

She was silent for a moment, her eyes searching his face. “Why do you even care? I know you hate me.”

Her words were like a punch to his gut. She really did think he hated her. She couldn’t be further from the truth. While there were aspects of her character that make an attachment between them impossible, her callousness wasn’t enough to stop his desire for her. “I don’t hate you,” he said softly.

“But you don’t like me either.”

He wanted to quickly deny her words, but he couldn’t. What would he say?
Yes, I like you?
Impossible. While he didn’t hate her, he couldn’t abide her selfish behavior, couldn’t tolerate her superior attitude where no one else mattered.

Just like his father.

He cursed the thought as it jumped into his mind. He knew his father’s failings, his selfishness, his infidelity, but it wasn’t right to apply those weaknesses to her.

She laughed bitterly again and moved out of his way. “Your silence says it all. What is it about me that you can’t stand?”

“I feel no such thing.”

“Of course you do. It’s written all over your face. Have I offended you with my, what did you call it?” She paused dramatically, tapping her chin. “Ah, yes. My bitter disposition.” She moved around him toward the door before turning dramatically, her skirt swirling around her legs like a black cloud. “Well, I have no wish to disrupt your peace a moment longer, my lord. I’ll go off the kitchens and kick a scullery maid.”

She waited for his response, which surprised him. He had expected her to turn around in her righteous indignation and flee the room without a response. But instead she stood there, holding her ground, challenging him with her eyes and her body.

A lusciously curved body. He couldn’t stop his eyes from trailing down the length of her. Rigid shoulders forced her soft chest out, beckoning him to touch her. His gaze moved back to her face and he saw that her eyes were wide with understanding. She knew he desired her.

“Perhaps running the house isn’t all you wish me to do,” she whispered softly, moving closer to him with measured steps. Her hips swayed with the movement, causing the wispy black satin to hug her delicious curves. Stopping in front of him, she didn’t touch, but merely looked into his eyes, her lips opening in invitation.

He knew she was playing with him. Knew she was taunting him. But, damn it, it was working. He could almost feel her lips, her sweet breath mingling with his, her lush body pressed intimately against his own. The thought was so powerful, he clenched his hands into fists to keep from touching her. She knew the power she held.

This was a struggle. A struggle of wills. She thought she could handle him, catch him off guard. But she was sorely mistaken. He had learned from the master. His father. The womanizing, liar and cheat had taken his family through trials of sorrow that Victoria couldn’t possibly understand. She was used to getting her way, used to bending the wills of men to her own by using her body as a weapon.

Forcing a smirk to his face, he glanced carelessly down her body, only lifting an eyebrow when he was finished with his quick perusal. “Are you offering something more? Because I have to tell you, there isn’t anything else I can think of now.”

Hot color mottled her cheeks before he saw her hand fly backwards, preparing to slap him. In mid-swing, he caught her hand, quickly yanking it behind her, forcing her body into his. Their breaths mingled. Struggling against him, she finally gave up, puffing out fits of air.

When she stilled, his eyebrows lowered over his eyes. “Don’t ever try to hit me again,” his voice was deadly calm. His words were delivered in almost a whisper. No threats were needed.

Eyeing him warily, she finally lowered her eyes in submission. “I should get back to the party.”

He released her arm, freeing her to step away from him. Turning quickly, she made to leave the room, only glancing over her shoulder once.

He should see it as a victory, but he wasn’t quite sure who the victor was.

He had taunted her, and he didn’t feel better for it.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he turned from the doorway to stare into the greedy fire. She had been hurt more than he had initially realized.

Knowing his mother, he could easily see what had happened, but he was even more surprised that it had bothered Lady Victoria so much. With her reputation for ruthlessness and her behavior when arriving to his estate, it was a surprise that cutting remarks could hurt her.

While he thought it was a good lesson for her to learn, he didn’t want to see her hurt. For some reason her tears had worked magic on him.

He could never see someone hurting without trying to offer aid.

Leaving the house to go help with planting, he didn’t return until late that evening. Candles were lit around the house, causing a soft glow to bounce off the walls. The light, waxy smell was homey, warm, and made him want to find one of the oversized chairs in the library and sink in with a brandy.

But he had to see to something first.

Making his way up the staircase, he moved quickly along the hallways to the family rooms. His mother would have retired for the night, but she wouldn’t be sleeping.

Knocking on the door, he wasn’t surprised when his mother called out sourly, “I told you I didn’t need anything else, Molly.”

Cracking the door open, he took only one step into the dim room. “As you can see, I’m not Molly.”

“Oh, well, come in then.” In a stark white nightgown, her robe firmly belted around the material, encasing every ounce of flesh up to her neck, she looked like a ghost. Her complexion looked more gray against the pure white, the lines of displeasure around her mouth were more pronounced. “There’s something you need?”

After he walked a few more steps into the room, he waved away her gesture for him to sit. “I’ll be brief.” His eyes were direct on her, his shoulders ridged. This would be his least favorite task that day. He would easily sweat and bleed in the fields over confronting his mother any day. “I want you to stop bullying Lady Victoria.”