Page 20 of Surrender

“That is certainly an accurate observation, my lord.” She was feeling somewhat dazed.

  “I would like us to share the task together, Vicky. We both have a stake in Stonevale. It is your home now as well as mine. It will be our children’s home.”

  She flinched at that, recalling more of Jessica Atherton’s words. If you cannot bring yourself to have any real affection for Lucas, only think how hard this is on him. He must have an heir from you.

  Victoria composed her features immediately, but she knew Lucas had seen her brief expression of anger because his own face hardened. “I will introduce you to the staff, although as yet there is not much of it. The butler’s name is Griggs. He’s from my London staff. The housekeeper is Mrs. Sneath. She’s from the village.”

  Exhausted from the long trip, depressed by what she had seen of Stonevale, and too proud to give an inch in response to Lucas’s small overtures, Victoria picked up her skirts and climbed the stairs to her new bedchamber.

  Dinner that night was not an impressive affair. Griggs apologized for the poor quality of the wine and the lack of footmen to serve. The food was limited, both in quality and selection. The surroundings were even less prepossessing than the food. The carpet was threadbare, the furniture scarred and unpolished, the silver tarnished. The chandelier overhead had obviously not been cleaned in years.

  But it was the grim silence at the table that really got to Victoria. She was not a creature of long silences and she had almost reached the end of her ability to maintain one. It annoyed her now that Lucas seemed oblivious to her efforts.

  “Well, my lord,” she began after fortifying herself with a large sip of wine. “Where do you propose to begin spending my money? On the gardens, perhaps? Or the tenants’ farms? Or maybe you would like to refurnish the house itself? It certainly needs it.”

  Lucas swirled the wine in his glass and regarded her for a moment. “Where would you like to start, Vicky?”

  “Why would my feelings on the subject matter to you? Salvaging Stonevale is your project, not mine.” She smiled a cold, brittle smile. “And now that you have my money, I am certain you will think of lots of ways to spend it. My stepfather certainly had no problem spending my mother’s money on his horses and his women.”

  “It occurs to me, madam, that you are in this fix in the first place because you lacked a suitable challenge in your life.”

  She glared at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You are a woman of intelligence and energy who happened to have access to a great deal of money. You used that money to buy your independence and finance your social life, but you did not use it to do anything else particularly useful.”

  That stung. “I have always given large sums to charities.”

  “Which demanded very little of your time or skills. Furthermore, you had neither a husband nor a family to absorb your considerable energies. Other than your interest in botanical painting and the occasional scientific lecture, you did not devise anything else of a serious nature to occupy your time and ability. Your only outlet for action was your social life. So you got bored and started looking for adventure. And that, my dear, is what got you into trouble.”

  Victoria was incensed. “I was not bored with town life, sir, I assure you.”

  “No? I rather think it was boredom that led you to dream up your midnight escapades.”

  She paled. “That is not true. You know nothing of why I sought my midnight adventures and I would appreciate it if you refrained from making silly conjectures.”

  He shook his head thoughtfully. “No, I believe I am correct in my logic. You were initially attracted to me solely because I was willing to give you the adventure you wanted. If you dislike the notion of being married for your money, how do you think I felt knowing that my primary appeal for you was that I could offer you some fleeting excitement? You were perfectly willing to use me for your own ends, were you not?”

  “That is not true,” she retorted before stopping to think.

  “No? Are you admitting your feelings for me went deeper than a frivolous desire to use me to provide you with the adventure you wanted?”

  Victoria scowled at him. “Yes, I mean no. Damn it, Lucas, you are twisting my words.”

  “Either way, you are here now, madam, and there is no going back. You were aware of the risks and you chose to run them. The first rule of gaming, my sweet, is learning how to pay up without whimpering when you lose. If you play, you pay,” Lucas said.

  “I am not whimpering. I am furious. There is a vast difference.”

  Lucas leaned back and folded his arms. “You are sulking, Vicky. It is nothing more than that. Having never dealt with you in this mood, I will admit I’m curious to see how long it will last. I had hoped you would be through the worst of it by the time we got here, but it appears I was wrong.”

  “Yes, it certainly does appear that you were wrong.” She was vibrating with the force of her anger. The injustice of his accusations was intolerable. “Completely wrong.”

  “You should be grateful to me, Vicky. I am offering you a way to avoid future disasters of the sort that led you into this situation. I am pleased to be able to give you a project that will in turn give you something important to do both with your time and your money.” Lucas looked at her. “Help me restore Stonevale and its lands.”

  “How kind of you to refer to it as my money.”

  “Vicky, I want you to be a part of this place. I want you to share it with me. I admit that I can do nothing without access to your inheritance, but I do not intend to spend your money without consulting you. I am more than happy to involve you in every detail. You have a good mind and a vast store of knowledge, thanks to the way you have been raised. You can be a tremendous influence on what happens here at Stonevale. All I ask is that you work with me instead of amusing yourself with a fit of the sulks.”

  “What you offer is certainly very exciting to say the least,” she said in silky tones. “If you are so eager to include me in every little decision, then perhaps you would like to consider giving me a written wedding contract? One in which you guarantee not to touch a penny of my money without my consent?”

  His mouth curved ruefully. “I am not a complete fool, madam. It would be the height of idiocy for me to have such a contract drawn up while you are in your present mood. Perhaps we can discuss the matter again when you have decided you are ready to be a true and loving wife to me.”

  “Hah. You would never give me such a contract and we both know it.”

  “Even if I did, it would carry little real weight under the law, Vicky. We are husband and wife. That relationship will always give me certain rights.”

  “It is the principle of the thing.”

  Lucas smiled briefly. “The hell it is. If I were to give you such a contract right now, you would use it to get even with me for this marriage. Admit it, Vicky. You are not accustomed to being outmaneuvered and all you can think of at the moment is revenge.”

  “At least the notion of revenge has the undeniable advantage of providing me with something useful to occupy my time and energy, does it not?” She smiled coldly and rose to her feet. “Now, if you will excuse me, my lord, I fear I am not yet done feeling sorry for myself. I believe I shall retire to my bedchamber and sulk for a while.”

  Griggs scrambled to open the door for her as she swept out of the dining room.

  Lucas watched his wife’s magnificent exit through hooded eyes and then signaled the butler for the port he had brought with him from London. His leg ached from the long days of riding it had recently endured.

  For a considerable length of time Lucas sipped the port and contemplated which he would rather do: strangle Jessica Atherton or turn Victoria over his knee.

  On the whole, turning his wife over his knee sounded far and away the more interesting option. He would give a lot right now for another glimpse of her enticingly curved backside.

  Lucas slowly and deliberately worked his way through t
he bottle of port in splendid solitude. The wine was useful for something besides dulling the ache in his thigh. It also took some of the edge off his frustrated desire. Since that hot, sweet night of illicit passion at the inn, he had been plagued with memories that pushed his normally ironclad self-control to the limits.

  He could not believe that Victoria was not haunted by the same memories. She had been so responsive, so magnificent in her passion, so welcoming and trusting. Damn it, he thought, she had even told him she thought she was in love with him, and he was quite certain she had never said as much to any other man.

  And he knew for a fact that she had never given herself to anyone else. The joy of watching her sensual discovery had been the most erotic experience he had ever known.

  The painting of Strelitzia reginae was already hanging on the wall upstairs near his dressing table, where he would be able to see it every morning. Lucas had directed that it be among the first of his personal items that were unpacked. He wondered if Victoria had any idea how much the small gift had meant to him.

  Probably not. She was not thinking of anything else at the moment except her savaged pride.

  He had been startled to find himself so deeply touched by Strelitzia. Perhaps it was because it was the first gift any woman had ever given him since his mother had died. He refused to count the keepsake locket with a wisp of dark hair in it that Jessica Atherton had given him four years ago.

  She had pressed it into his palm even as she had tearfully rejected his offer of marriage and explained where her duty lay. He had tossed the locket into a ditch one night on the eve of a battle.

  Lucas finished the last of the port and contemplated the empty bottle. Then he contemplated the notion of the empty bed that awaited him.

  If matters had not exploded in his face the way they had, he would be back in his London town house preparing to climb a certain garden wall tonight. His reckless, passionate midnight companion would be waiting eagerly for the night’s adventure.

  But things had changed. He was married to the little baggage now and somehow he had to find a way to deal with her. He refused to spend the rest of his days with a sulking wife and he was even more certain he was not going to spend his nights alone in his own bedchamber.

  It was so damn easy for Victoria to be kind to everyone else, Lucas thought in annoyance as he got to his feet. Why could she not spare a little kindness for her husband? Surely she must realize he had not had a lot of choice in his actions lately.

  A man in his position had no option but to secure an heiress in any manner he could. Victoria was old enough to understand the realities of marriage. In any event, the deed was done and there was nothing for it but for Victoria to accept the situation with good grace. This sulking business would have to stop. He would not tolerate her ill humor much longer.

  Nor would he tolerate a lonely bed for long. He was a married man now and that gave him certain rights and privileges.

  With a hardening sense of determination, Lucas stalked out of the dining room and up the staircase. He would make one more effort to talk to Victoria tonight, and if she still refused to listen to him, he swore he would find another way to take the edge off her temper.

  His valet, Ormsby, was busy in the master bedchamber, still unpacking. He glanced up with surprise as Lucas entered the room.

  “Good evening, sir. Did you wish to retire early tonight?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Tell Griggs to send the staff to bed, too. It has been a long trip for everyone.”

  Ormsby nodded. “Will you be needing anything for your leg, sir? It generally bothers you after long hours in the saddle.”

  “I have just finished a bottle of port. That should take care of it.”

  “Very good, sir.” Ormsby moved about with soothing efficiency. “Nan told me that Lady Stonevale has also retired for the evening. If this is any indication, it appears we shall all be keeping rather different hours here in the country than we did in Town.”

  “Just as well. I much prefer country life to the demands of the city.” Lucas absently rubbed his bad leg. He was not going to miss climbing that damned garden wall one bit. Nor was he going to miss the nerve-racking business of constantly worrying about protecting his companion’s identity and safety while she flitted blithely through the gaming hells, brothels, and back streets of London.

  Ormsby took his leave a few minutes later. Lucas waited until the sound of his footsteps had receded before he picked up a candle and went to the connecting door. There was no sound from Victoria’s room. She was probably already in bed; perhaps asleep.

  He quietly opened the door, telling himself he had every right to walk into his wife’s bedchamber. The knob twisted easily in his hand. He wondered if Victoria had tried to lock it against him. He had taken possession of the key earlier just in case.

  Her bedroom was shrouded in darkness except for the pale light coming in through the window. Victoria apparently liked to sleep with the drapes open, he noted. A rather unusual quirk.

  With the aid of the candle and the moonlight, Lucas could make out the slender shape of his wife as she lay huddled under the covers. His belly tightened.

  Unfortunately the candlelight also revealed a little too much of the faded drapes, dirty carpet, and worn furnishings that decorated the bedchamber. Lucas felt a sharp twinge that could have been embarrassment. The new home he had provided for Victoria was definitely not up to her usual standards.

  He walked over to the bed, wondering how to announce himself and tell her he had come to claim his right as a husband.

  On the way up the stairs he had composed a rather lengthy speech about wifely duties and husbandly rights, but now it all sounded unconvincing. What was he going to do if she simply did not want him anymore, he wondered bleakly?

  But even as the cold thought formed in his head the candlelight fell on the warm pool of golden amber that nestled between her breasts.

  She was still wearing the pendant.

  Relief flooded through Lucas. All was not lost after all, he thought jubilantly.

  Even as that realization flared like fire through his veins, Victoria stirred restlessly on the pillow. Her lashes fluttered briefly, and then, without any warning, she opened her eyes, looked straight up at him, and screamed.

  “Dear God, no, no. Stay away from me.”

  Lucas stared in shock as Victoria sat bolt upright in bed. She held out a hand as if trying to ward him off. He had been wrong. She could not bear the thought of him coming to her bed. His insides clenched in a sickening fashion.

  “Vicky, for God’s sake …”

  “The knife. Merciful heavens the knife.” She was staring at the candle in horror. “No, please, no.”

  Lucas finally understood that she was still half-asleep. He had evidently awakened her in the middle of a nightmare and she was trapped in the remnants of the dream.

  He moved quickly, putting the candle down on the nearest table and grasping Victoria by the shoulders. She opened her mouth to scream again, her eyes focused on something only she could see.

  Lucas shook her. “Victoria, stop it.”

  When there was no sign of any response in her eyes, he did what he had occasionally had to do when confronted by a soldier who had slipped over the edge of sanity into battle-front hysteria. He drew back one hand, and with cool calculation, he slapped Victoria quite hard.

  That stopped her. She gasped, blinked in confusion, and finally focused on his face.

  “Lucas,” she breathed. “Dear heaven, ’tis you.” She gave a small cry of overwhelming relief and threw herself into his arms. She clutched him as if he were an angel sent to rescue her from the pits of hell.

  There were hurried footsteps in the hall and then anxious knocking on Victoria’s door. “Ma’am? My lady? ’Tis me, Nan. Be everythin’ all right?”

  Lucas reluctantly disengaged himself from Victoria’s clinging grasp. She whimpered softly in protest and he soothed her with a touch.
br />
  “Hush, darling. I have to go reassure your maid. I will be right back.”

  He went to the door and opened it to find Nan hovering nervously in the hall.

  “I was on the stairs, startin’ for my bed, when I heard her ladyship scream.” Nan looked up at him, her eyes faintly suspicious in the glow of the candle she held. “Is all well?”

  “She is fine, Nan. It was my fault. I awakened her in the middle of a bad dream.”

  “Oh, I wondered if that might be it.” Nan’s eyes lost their trace of accusation. “Poor thing. She’s been havin’ some trouble with bad dreams for the past few months. I think it is one o’ the reasons she’s taken such a likin’ for the parties and nightlife o’ London this Season. Keeps her busy till dawn. But looks like she’ll be sufferin’ with those plaguey dreams again now that we’re all keepin’ country hours. Mayhap I should sleep a little closer to her.”

  “You needn’t worry about her, Nan. She’s got a husband now, remember? I will take good care of her. I am much closer than you are.”

  Nan flushed and nodded quickly. “Yes, sir. Well, I’ll be off, then.” She bobbed a quick curtsy and hurried back down the hall.

  Lucas closed the door and turned back to the bed. Victoria was watching him from the shadows, her arms wrapped around her updrawn knees. Her eyes were huge in the dim light.

  “My apologies, Vicky. I did not mean to startle you awake so abruptly,” Lucas said.

  “What were you doing sneaking about in my room in the first place?” she asked tartly.

  He sighed, aware that the few moments of vulnerability had already passed. “I know this will come as something of a shock, Vicky, but you have a husband now and husbands have a right to sneak around their wives’ bedchambers.” He crossed the room and sat down on the side of the bed, ignoring her hostile gaze. “Your maid says you suffer from bad dreams frequently of late. Is there a particular reason, do you think?”

  “No.”

  “I only ask because I, too, have had the occasional unpleasant dream,” he said softly.

  “I imagine everyone does from time to time.”