“Yes, but my dream is a very specific one and it is always the same. Is yours?”
She hesitated. “Yes.” Then, probably in an effort to change the focus of the conversation, she asked quickly, “What do you dream of, my lord?”
“Of being trapped beneath a dead horse in the middle of a field of dead and dying men.” Lucas drew a deep breath and looked at the flickering candle. “Some of those men took a very long time to die. Every time I have the dream I have to listen to them in their agony. And I have to live through the torment of wondering whether or not I shall also die, wondering whether one of the human vermin who come out to loot the dead after a battle will simply slit my throat for me and end the matter once and for all.”
Her small, anguished gasp and the fleeting touch of her fingers on the sleeve of his dressing gown brought his eyes back to her face.
“How terrible,” Victoria whispered. “Dear God, Lucas, how ghastly. Your dream is even worse than mine.”
“Of what do you dream, Vicky?”
Her fingers clenched around the sheet and she looked down. “In my dream I am always standing at the top of a staircase. A … a man is coming toward me. He holds a candle in one hand and a dagger in the other.”
Lucas waited, sensing there was more. Something about the way she had hesitated over the phrase “a man” gave him the impression her nightmare figure had a face she recognized. But it was obvious she did not intend to add to the description of the dream and he was unwilling to jeopardize their new intimacy by prodding her for details.
In fact, Lucas decided, he had already gotten closer to her tonight than he had at any time since the fateful night he had made love to her. If he was wise, he would not push too far, too fast.
Strategy, he reminded himself. In the long run, a man always got farther with strategy than he did with force.
He suppressed a groan and got to his feet. “Are you all right now?”
She nodded quickly, not quite meeting his eyes. “Yes, thank you. I shall be fine.”
“Then I will say good night. Call me if you need me, Vicky.”
Forcing himself to walk back to his own chamber was one of the hardest things Lucas had done of late.
11
The following afternoon Victoria sought relief from the tension of the ever-so-civilized, now-silent battle raging between herself and Lucas by fleeing into the nearby woods with her sketchbook.
She walked for some time before coming to a halt. Eventually she chose a comfortable spot on a hill beneath some trees where she could sit gazing out over the uninspiring view of the depressed farming community. From here she could see the cottages that needed patching, the rutted lanes that needed repair, and the nearly empty fields. Lucas was out there somewhere in one of those fields, she knew. He’d made plans to ride out on an inspection tour with his steward this afternoon.
There was certainly much to be done here, Victoria was forced to acknowledge. Whatever else one could say about her husband, at least he apparently intended to put her money to good use. There was no evidence yet that he was going to pour it into wine, women, and song.
But, then, Lucas was not a frivolous man, in spite of his reputation as an accomplished gamester.
Frowning at her uneasy, chaotic thoughts, she bent her attention to the small plants and grasses around her. With a practiced eye she picked out several familiar species. But then she spotted a rather unusual cluster of mushrooms and her interest was immediately piqued in spite of her mood. She opened her sketchbook.
This was what she needed, she thought. She wanted the temporary peace of mind her sketching and painting could bring her.
Victoria spent a long time detailing the delicate mushrooms, losing herself in her work. Time passed quickly and the pressures of her new marriage faded, at least for the moment.
When she was finished with the mushrooms, she went on to draw several interesting dead leaves that had fallen nearby in a graceful heap. After the leaves she discovered a quite fascinating puffball. Puffballs always presented a serious challenge. It was difficult to get just the right airy appearance without sacrificing the tiny details. Botanical drawing was an exhilarating combination of art and science. Victoria loved it.
Two hours later she finally closed the sketchbook and leaned back against the tree trunk. She discovered she was feeling much better. Calmer and more steadied. The warm afternoon sun felt good and somehow the fields and farms below did not look quite so bleak. There was hope for Stonevale, she thought suddenly. Lucas would be able to salvage these lands. If any man could do it, Lucas could.
With her money, of course.
But even that thought was not as irritating as it had been earlier. An insidious notion occurred to her. Perhaps Lucas had had a point last night at dinner. What had she ever done that was so terribly useful with her money in the past?
Nevertheless, it was her money. Victoria scowled at that notion and got to her feet, brushing leaves from her walking dress. She must remember that she was the innocent victim in this situation.
Three days later Victoria made her first trip into the village. She had wanted to ride on horseback, the better to explore her new home, but Lucas had put his foot down immediately.
“I will not have the new Countess of Stonevale make her first public appearance on horseback. A certain amount of propriety is demanded in this instance, madam. You will go in a carriage together with a maid and a groom or you will not go at all,” he stated.
As her relationship with Lucas could only be described as precariously balanced at best, Victoria had decided not to argue the point.
In choosing that course of action, she realized she was fast becoming as prudent as the rest of the household. She was learning that it was decidedly easier on both herself and the staff of Stonevale if she refrained from challenging her husband at each and every turn.
It irked her to think she might be surrendering some small stretch of ground to him. But the truth was, it was difficult to maintain her bristling defenses twenty-four hours a day. She was accustomed to being happy with Lucas, not at war with him.
And there were definitely a few distinct benefits to maintaining some semblance of peace in the household, she grudgingly admitted to herself. There was no denying that in response to her newfound discretion, Lucas, in turn, refrained from letting everyone feel the chill of his shockingly cold temper. The man had an air of absolute authority about him, which, when he chose to exercise it, got attention in a hurry.
His capacity for leadership and command was, Victoria had decided, in part a product of his military background. But she also suspected that a good portion of it came very naturally to Lucas. He was a born leader.
And the arrogance of a natural leader was no doubt bred in the bone. Without such arrogance and the accompanying leadership characteristics, Lucas would not have had a chance of salvaging Stonevale and the land around it.
Victoria reflected on that unpalatable notion as the carriage jolted uncomfortably over the bad road into the village.
She had to admit that she had caught an occasional glimpse of the hard steel core of Lucas’s character before her marriage. Indeed, it was probably part of what had drawn her to him. But the truth was, she had rarely been forced to confront that steel directly. Lucas had, after all, been deliberately wooing her. Naturally he had hidden the more unpleasant elements of his nature from her.
“You cannot really be meanin’ to shop in this drab place, ma’am,” Nan said as the carriage entered the main street of the village. “Hardly the likes o’ Bond Street or Oxford Street, is it?”
“No, it certainly isn’t. But we aren’t here to find a ball gown. My goal is just to have a look around and perhaps meet some of the people with whom Stonevale does business on a daily basis. This is our new home, Nan. We must meet our neighbors.”
“If you say so, ma’am.” Nan did not look convinced of the wisdom of the idea.
Victoria smiled faintly and decided to
make the appeal on a more practical basis. “You have seen the conditions at Stonevale. The house is in a terrible state. Utterly deplorable. His lordship is too busy with his farmers to worry about the running of the household, and being a military man, I doubt he would know how to run it, even if he tried.”
“That be true enough, I reckon. Runnin’ a household the size o’ Stonevale is a lady’s job, beggin’ your pardon, ma’am.”
“Unfortunately, I fear you are correct, Nan. And I appear to be the lady who is stuck with the task. As long as we must live there, we might as well make the place habitable. And if we are going to spend money to make it comfortable, we may as well spend as much as possible here in the village. These people rely on Stonevale for their incomes.”
Nan brightened somewhat at this bit of logic. “I see your point, ma’am.”
People came out of the shops and the small, decrepit taverns to watch as the Stonevale carriage made its way sedately down the rutted street. Victoria smiled and waved.
There were one or two tentative waves in response, but the general lack of enthusiasm for the new mistress of Stonevale was rather daunting. Victoria wondered if it was her, personally, they found unappealing, or if their attitude was simply an extension of the local feeling toward Stonevale in general. She could not blame the villagers for being less than optimistic about their futures, given the obvious neglect they had endured from the past master of the great house.
These poor people, she thought, nibbling on her lower lip. They had suffered a great deal. This was a place where money could accomplish much.
In the middle of the village, Victoria spotted a tiny dry-goods shop. “I think here would be an excellent place to begin our shopping.”
Nan managed to keep her mouth shut, although her opinion of the place was plain.
Victoria was smiling in amusement at her maid’s superior attitude when she stepped down from the carriage with the aid of her footman.
The warmth of a bright spring sun fell on her full force, highlighting the deep amber yellow shade of her gown and glinting off her honey-colored hair. The amber feather in her tiny, yellow hat bobbed in the small breeze and the amber pendant she wore around her throat caught the sunlight and glowed with a life of its own. Everyone on the street stared as if momentarily transfixed.
Then a little girl, who had been watching from behind the safety of her mother’s skirts, suddenly crowed in delight and ran out into the street, making a beeline for Victoria.
“Amber Lady, Amber Lady,” the child shouted merrily as she raced forward on bare feet. “Pretty Amber Lady. You came back. My granny always said you would. She said you’d have hair the color of gold and honey all mixed up and you’d be wearin’ a golden dress.”
“Here now,” Nan snapped not unkindly as she moved to intercept the youngster. “We don’t want to get mud all over her ladyship, now, do we? Shoo, child. Go on back to your ma.”
The girl ignored her, darting swiftly around the obstacle to grab hold of Victoria’s yellow skirts with grubby fingers.
“Hello,” Victoria said with a welcoming smile. “What would your name be?”
“Lucy ‘awkins,” the child said proudly, looking up at her with eyes full of wonder. “And that’s my ma. And over there’s my big sis.”
The woman Lucy had pointed out as her mother was already hurrying forward with a horrified grimace on her worn-looking face. She could not have been more than five years older than Victoria, but she appeared to be at least twenty years her senior.
“I’m so sorry, mum. She’s just a child. She didn’t mean nothin’. Don’t know her manners around her betters. She ain’t seen that many of ’em. Betters, I mean.”
“It is quite all right. She’s done no harm.”
“She ain’t?” The woman’s face held an expression of honest bewilderment. “She dirtied your dress, mum,” she pointed out in case Victoria had failed to notice the muddy fingerprints on the fine amber muslin.
Victoria did not bother to glance down at the stains. “I appreciate her warm welcome. Lucy is the first person from the village whom I have had a chance to meet, except for our housekeeper, Mrs. Sneath. Speaking of which, is there any chance your older daughter or one of her friends might be interested in a job in the kitchens? We are in desperate need of staff. I cannot imagine how Stonevale has managed to function at all with so few people working there.”
“A job?” The woman’s face went blank in open astonishment. “A real job at the big house, yer ladyship? Why, we’d be ever so grateful. My husband ain’t worked in ages and neither ‘as a lot o’ other men around here.”
“It is Lord Stonevale and myself who will be grateful, I assure you.” Victoria glanced around the ring of curious faces that was starting to gather near the carriage. “In fact, we shall be needing a number of people. If anyone is interested in working in the gardens or the stables or the kitchens, please present yourselves tomorrow morning. You shall be taken on immediately. Now, if you will excuse me, I thought I would do a little shopping in your charming village.”
When Victoria started forward with Nan at her heels, the crowd parted magically. She could still hear Lucy’s squeals about the Amber Lady as she stepped over the threshold of the small shop.
Two hours later Victoria sailed into Stonevale’s main hall. “Do you by any chance know the whereabouts of his lordship, Griggs? I must see him at once.”
“I believe he is in the library with Mr. Satherwaite, madam. His lordship expressly requested that he not be disturbed while he was in conference with his new steward.”
“I am certain he will make an exception in my case and I am particularly delighted to catch him with Satherwaite. Very convenient.” Victoria smiled and started briskly for the closed door of the library, stripping off one of her fine kid gloves as she went forward.
Griggs sprang for the door. “Forgive me, madam, but his lordship was most particular about his request.”
“Don’t fret, Griggs. I shall deal with him.”
“Begging your pardon, madam, but I have been privileged to be in his lordship’s employ for several months now and I pride myself on having learned his preferences. I can assure you he has a strong preference for being obeyed.”
Victoria smiled grimly. “Believe me, I understand better than most that Stonevale has a few difficult quirks in his nature. Be so good as to open the door, Griggs. Rest assured I shall take full responsibility for any mayhem which may ensue.”
Looking doubtful, but unwilling to contradict his mistress, Griggs opened the door with an expression of deep foreboding.
“Thank you, Griggs.” Victoria peeled off her second glove as she went into the room. She saw Lucas glance up, scowling. But the scowl changed to an expression of surprise as he saw who it was who had interrupted him.
“Good afternoon, madam.” Lucas rose politely to his feet. “I thought you had gone into the village.”
“I did. Now I am returned, as you can plainly see. How fortunate to find you together with your steward.” She smiled at Mr. Satherwaite, an earnest-looking young man seated on the other side of Stonevale’s desk. The steward dropped the journal he had been holding and sprang to his feet, bowing deeply.
“Your servant, your ladyship.”
Lucas eyed Victoria somewhat cautiously. “How can I be of service, my dear?”
“I just wanted to apprise you of a few minor details. I have let it be known in the village that we will be taking on staff. Those who are interested, which I gather will be a sizable number, have been instructed to present themselves in the morning. Mr. Satherwaite can handle them, I am certain. I will be consulting with Griggs and Mrs. Sneath as to the exact number of people we shall require in the house proper. Since I am certain you are busy enough with the tenants’ problems, I shall also attend to the staffing of the gardens.”
“I see,” Lucas said.
“In addition, I should mention that I have made a number of purchases in the village. T
he tradesmen will be delivering most of them tomorrow morning. Please arrange to have their bills paid at once. It is quite obvious they cannot afford to wait upon our convenience, as is customary.”
“Anything else, madam?” Lucas asked dryly.
“Yes, I met the vicar’s wife, Mrs. Worth, while I was in the village and have invited her and her husband to tea tomorrow afternoon. We will be discussing the various charity needs of the village. Kindly arrange your schedule so that you may join us.”
Lucas inclined his head in grave acknowledgment of the command. “I will consult my schedule to see if I am free. Will that be all?”
“Not quite. We really must do something about that terrible road into the village. Most uncomfortable.”
Lucas nodded. “I shall put it on my list of items needing repair.”
“Do that, my lord. I think that will be all for now.” Victoria smiled warmly again at Mr. Satherwaite, who was looking dumbfounded, turned on her heel, and headed for the door. She paused on the threshold and glanced back over her shoulder at Lucas. “There was one other thing, my lord.”
“Somehow I am not surprised,” Lucas said. “Pray, continue. You have my full attention, madam.”
“What is this nonsense about an Amber Lady?”
Lucas’s eyes flicked briefly to the pendant she wore. “Where did you hear the phrase?”
“One of the children in the village called me by that odd title. I simply wondered if you were familiar with it. Apparently it is some sort of local legend.”
Lucas glanced at Satherwaite. “I will tell you what little I know of the story later.”
Victoria shrugged. “As you wish, my lord.” She swept back out of the library and Griggs hastily closed the door behind her. The butler regarded her with an air of acute concern.
“Have no fear, Griggs,” Victoria said, grinning with unabashed triumph at her small, successful assault on the sanctity of the library. “My lord has teeth but it takes considerably more than a minor interruption from his wife to make him bite.”