“I don’t see how you can be so casual about wandering around naked.”
“Who will see? Except you, of course.” He grinned, throwing one leg over hers. “And you are every bit as naked as I am.”
“Never mind.” She paused. “Lucas, I have something to say to you.”
“What would that be, my sweet?”
Victoria studied Lucas for a moment, choosing her words. “About our argument.”
“Which one?”
“The one about my money.”
“Can this discussion not wait until breakfast? I’m exhausted. Running about on horseback in the middle of the night, rescuing ladies from window ledges, and shoving heavy furniture around takes its toll on a man of my years.”
“This is important, Lucas.”
“Very well, then, say it so that we can both get some sleep.”
“I just wanted to say that I am sorry, or at least somewhat sorry for most of the nasty things I said to you during the course of our discussion about money,” Victoria said very gravely.
“Most of the nasty things? Not all of them?”
“No, not all of them, because I do not feel that I was entirely in the wrong. Nevertheless, I shouldn’t have implied that you are like every other husband who takes control of his wife’s money. The truth is, you are quite different from any other man I have ever met.”
He touched the amber pendant where it lay nestled between her breasts. “And you, madam, are quite different from any other woman I have ever met. Since you have apologized for most of the nasty things you said, I suppose the least I can do is revoke my threat to put you on a limited quarterly allowance.”
“Well, I should think so. Really, Lucas, you can have had no notion of how arrogant you sounded when you made that horrid threat.”
He laughed and pulled her down across his chest. “I don’t think you have any notion of how arrogant you sound when you set out to make me jump fences to suit your whims.”
“I do no such thing.”
“Don’t you?” His thumbs traced the line of her cheekbones. “You are constantly testing me, Vicky, constantly pushing and probing to see how far I will let you go before I pull in the reins. And when I do reach my limits and refuse to indulge you in some manner, you retaliate by accusing me of being a typical, untrustworthy, domineering male who’s only after his wife’s money.”
She realized he was perfectly serious. “Lucas, that is not true.”
“I think it is true, sweetheart. And to be quite honest, I don’t entirely blame you. You have good cause to be cautious about placing your trust in me. But I do not like it when you try to manipulate me.”
She went still. “Is that how you see my behavior? As an attempt to manage you?”
“I think it is your way of proving to yourself that you are not at my mercy, that you can control me and therefore the situation in which you find yourself. It is a perfectly natural response on your part, but it does make for some awkward moments between us.”
“It seems to me that you have tried to manipulate and control me right from the start,” Victoria said quietly. “You even told me you were doing it that first night in my aunt’s garden when you said I would be unable to resist you because you would give me what no other man ever had.”
“So I did.”
“Well? Aren’t you going to apologize for that?”
“There’s not much point, is there? I don’t regret it.” He eased her mouth down to his. “I would have done whatever I had to do in order to get you.”
A small chill went through Victoria. Lucas had meant to get himself an heiress at whatever cost. There had been no love involved in the bargain, at least not on his side. He had been quite ruthless, right from the start. She had to keep reminding herself of that fact, especially when she lay in his arms. It was so easy to pretend that all was well between them at times like this, so easy to pretend that he was not plotting her surrender.
“Isabel Rycott once told me that weak men are more useful to a woman than strong ones because they are easier to control,” Victoria mused against his lips.
“Look at me, my sweet. I am utterly at your mercy. A helpless slave to your wicked, carnal desires. How much more useful can a man be?”
“There is that. I must admit, you are not the least bit stingy when it comes to this area of our marriage.” Victoria parted her lips and drew her tongue along the edge of his hard mouth.
Lucas groaned and set about proving just how willing he was to serve his lady in this area of their marriage.
Victoria awoke once more shortly after dawn, aware that Lucas was shifting about restlessly in his sleep. She put her hand on the ragged scar on his thigh and began to massage the taut muscles. He relaxed almost at once and fell back into a calm slumber.
She lay awake beside him for a few minutes, thinking that she had not been troubled with nightmares since her first night here at Stonevale. But the faint, nagging sense of unease had not completely vanished. Victoria could not completely escape the feeling that something dark and menacing was slowly closing in on her.
She cuddled closer to Lucas’s hard, warm body and his arm went around her. She reached up and absently touched the amber pendant at her throat as she often did these days. A moment later she relaxed and fell asleep.
16
“You won’t believe this, ma’am, but they’re sayin’ the ghosts were seen again last night. Fair gives one the shivers, don’t it? Except that nobody around here seems to mind havin’ these two particular ghosts runnin’ about. But I reckon that’s how country folk are. Peculiar.” Nan finished fastening the bodice of Victoria’s yellow-printed muslin gown and reached for the silver hairbrush.
Victoria watched her maid in the mirror. “Is this the Amber Knight and his lady you are talking about, Nan?”
“Yes, ma’am. So they be sayin’ in the kitchens, at any rate.”
“Are they saying precisely where the ghosts were seen?” Victoria asked carefully just as the connecting door opened and Lucas walked into her bedchamber. She was relieved to note he was fully dressed and even more pleased to see that he did not appear to be favoring his bad leg unduly.
“‘Mornin’, your lordship.” Nan dropped a quick curtsy and went back to work brushing Victoria’s short curls into fashionable, casual disarray.
“Good morning,” Lucas said easily. He met Victoria’s gaze in the mirror and smiled with lazy satisfaction. “Finish your tale, Nan. Where were the ghosts seen?”
Nan’s eyes brightened. “Ridin’ down one of the lanes, just as bold as you please. Can you imagine? What would a couple of self-respectin’ ghosts be doing riding horseback in the middle of the night, I ask you? The tales some people come up with.”
“I agree with you,” Lucas remarked, his eyes gleaming as they continued to hold Victoria’s in the mirror. “I cannot for the life of me imagine why a couple of intelligent ghosts would be out riding at that hour. Who saw them?”
“Well, as to that, I am not sure exactly, sir. I had the story from one of the kitchen girls who had it from a new stable lad. He just started work this mornin’. Don’t know where he got it,” Nan said.
“Probably made the whole thing up,” Victoria said. “That will be all for now, Nan. Thank you.”
“Yes, m’lady.” Nan bobbed another curtsy and left the room.
Lucas grinned as the door closed behind the maid. “Ten to one Billy Simms has put a nice twist on the events of last night.”
“No doubt.” Victoria laughed. “It is getting to be a great joke, is it not, Lucas?”
“I fear it will not be quite so amusing when someone finally realizes that the ghosts are merely the current Earl of Stonevale and his hoyden of a countess. But we shall face that problem when it arises. Are you ready to go down to breakfast?”
“Yes, indeed. In fact, I find myself with an excellent appetite this morning.”
“I cannot imagine why,” Lucas murmured as he opened the door for
her.
Victoria stepped forward and looped her arm into his. “Nothing like a little exercise to work up an appetite, is there? What are your plans for the day, my lord?”
“I am going to meet with the vicar to go over some ideas I have been studying for the new irrigation system. And your plans, my dear?”
She smiled serenely as they started down the stairs. “Oh, I thought I would spend the morning going over the interest rates offered by certain moneylenders I may need to consult in the event I should ever happen to find myself placed on a strict allowance.”
“Save your energy, madam. The day I allow you to go to a moneylender will be the day I have truly abandoned the fight and raised the white flag of defeat.”
“An interesting notion. Somehow I cannot quite imagine you admitting defeat in anything, Stonevale.”
“You are getting to know me well, Vicky.”
The three letters arrived just as they were finishing breakfast. Victoria recognized her aunt’s seal on one of them and Annabella Lyndwood’s on the another. She tore Annabella’s note open first.
My Dearest Vicky,
What a fine stir you have caused. Everyone is having a wonderful time discussing what is being termed the Great Romance of the Year. Lady Hesterly’s daughter even went so far as to suggest that Byron scribble a verse or two to celebrate the event. That notion, of course, is reported to have sent Caro Lamb flying up into the boughs. It is well known she does not like being cast into the shade by someone more outrageously romantic than herself.
Be that as it may, the rest of the gossip pales in comparison to talk of your marriage. Do hurry back, Vicky. I assure you that you will be heralded as a mythic goddess of love straight out of a classic tale of romance. And I must say, life has become rather boring without you. The only recent excitement is that I have succeeded in persuading Bertie to definitely refuse Viscount Barton’s offer. He is presently moping (Lord Barton, that is, not Bertie) but shows every sign of perking up and turning his attentions elsewhere.
Affectionately yours,
Annabella
“So much for poor Barton,” Lucas muttered. “Foiled by females.”
“So much, indeed,” Victoria agreed with relish. She opened her aunt’s note next and scanned the contents quickly before giving a small shriek of dismay. “Dear heaven, of all the wretched luck.”
Lucas looked up from the newspaper that had arrived with the letters. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything. This is terrible. A disaster.”
Lucas folded the newspaper and put it down beside his plate. “Has something happened to your aunt? Is she ill?”
“No, no, no, it is nothing like that. The disaster has happened to us. Oh, Lucas, what on earth are we to do? How do we get out of this horrible situation? This is intolerable.”
“Perhaps I could be of greater assistance if you would give me a few more details concerning this intolerable, horrible disaster.”
Victoria glanced up, her brows snapping together in a severe frown. “This is not funny, Lucas. Aunt Cleo writes that Jessica Atherton called upon her and suggested that it would be wise for you and me to put in an appearance in London before the Season ends. Lady Atherton has very kindly stated that she will honor us with a reception.”
Lucas looked thoughtful. Then he shrugged. “Perhaps she’s right. It might not be a bad idea. It would serve to enforce the notion that ours is a love match.”
Victoria was appalled. “Lucas, are you listening? It is none other than Jessica Atherton who is proposing to give us this reception.”
“Who better? As we both know, her position in Society is unassailable.”
Outraged, Victoria stared at him. “Have you lost your senses? Do you honestly believe I will allow Jessica Atherton to assist us in this manner? Not in a million years. I will not be indebted to that woman again.”
There was a beat of silence from Lucas’s end of the table. “Again?” he echoed at last. “Are you by any chance implying you already feel indebted to her for having performed the introduction that led to our marriage?”
“Don’t you dare tease me, Lucas. I am not at all in a mood to be teased. This is awful. What on earth shall I say to Aunt Cleo? How will we get out of this?”
“My advice,” he said as he rose to his feet, “is that we do not try. Your aunt is quite right. It would be a wise move to make an appearance in the ballroom of a hostess such as Jessica Atherton before the Season is over. It would set the seal of approval on your marriage as far as Society is concerned.”
Victoria could not believe her ears. “Never. I absolutely refuse. This is one issue on which neither you nor my aunt can make me change my mind. I have had more than enough of Jessica Atherton and her generous, kind assistance. I do not care if I never see the woman again as long as I live. I will not go to London if it means having to attend a ball in our honor given by her. It is unthinkable.”
Lucas walked to her chair, leaned down, and kissed the top of her curls. “My dear, you are overreacting. The whole notion of letting Jessica give us a reception seems quite reasonable to me.”
“It is the most unreasonable thing I have ever heard.”
“We will discuss it later when you’ve had a chance to calm down. Now I must be off. The vicar is due to arrive shortly.”
“I will not be budged on this, Lucas. I warn you.” She glared at his back as he exited the breakfast room, and then, when she had finished fuming, Victoria reached for the third and last letter. She examined it curiously but failed to recognize either the handwriting or the seal.
Impatiently she opened it. A pamphlet, a newspaper clipping, and a short note fell out of the envelope. The note was unsigned and it was extremely brief.
Madam: Given your interest in matters of intellectual inquiry, the enclosed should intrigue you greatly. It appears the dead do not always remain so.
The note was signed with a single initial: a “W.”
With a sense of dawning dread, Victoria picked up the pamphlet and read the title: “On Certain Curious Investigations into the Matter of Using Electricity to Reanimate the Dead.”
The newspaper article was a detailed account of how a coffin which had recently been exhumed had been opened and found to be empty. The theft of the deceased was presumed to be the work of a ring of body snatchers who were in the business of supplying the medical schools with corpses. There was, however, some speculation that a certain group of experimenters had purchased the body for their experiments with electricity. The authorities were concerned.
For the first time in her life that she could remember, Victoria felt faint. She nodded sharply to the footman to indicate she wanted more coffee and watched numbly as he poured it into her cup. The dark brew seemed to fall from spout to cup in slow motion.
Very carefully, because she did not quite trust the steadiness of her fingers, she picked up the delicate china teacup and swallowed most of the contents in one gulp. The light-headed sensation passed.
When she thought she could manage the act without collapsing, Victoria got to her feet, collected the envelopes arid their contents, and went upstairs to her room.
Lucas was aware of being in an excellent mood as he made his way across the hall and into the library. He looked about him with satisfaction.
Stonevale was a far different place than it had been when he had inherited it. Fine woodwork gleamed once more under new layers of polish. Faded draperies had been repaired or replaced. The old carpets had been cleaned to reveal their subtle, beautiful patterns, and the windows sparkled in the morning sun.
The house was fully staffed now and the domestic routines were already well established. The footmen wore their new livery with obvious pride and the food served at table was fresh and properly prepared.
Through the library window Lucas could see the progress the gardeners were making under Victoria’s direction. The small conservatory she had ordered would soon be finished. Several trays of unusual plants were
on their way from London.
Lucas knew that all the progress that had been made in and around the house itself was the direct result of Victoria’s time and attention. Her money alone would not have achieved the miracle of turning Stonevale into a home. That feat required a woman’s touch.
She had brought something infinitely more valuable than her inheritance to this marriage, Lucas acknowledged. She had brought herself with all her natural enthusiasm, intelligence, and generous nature. The staff and tenants adored her. The villagers were proud that she found their shops worth her patronage. The fact that the tradesmen’s bills were always paid promptly did not go unnoticed, either. The quality of merchandise available in the village was already markedly improved.
He had chosen well, Lucas told himself as he studied the garden through the window. He had almost everything he could want in a wife, an intelligent lady for his days and a passionate creature of fire and spirit to warm his bed at night. What more could any man ask?
But the raw fact of the matter was that he was oddly unsatisfied. He had discovered of late that there were a few other things he wanted from Victoria. He found himself longing for the sweet, tremulous words of love she had withheld from him since the day of their marriage and he wanted her full and complete trust.
He probably did not deserve either her love or her trust, but lately he had come to realize he would not be able to rest until he had both. He did not care for her businesslike approach to her fate. This marriage was not just another financial investment for her, by God. He would not allow her to go on treating it that way much longer.
He glanced at the painting of Strelitzia reginae that he’d brought downstairs earlier and propped on his desk. Every time he looked at it he remembered Victoria’s glowing expression that night at the inn.
I think I have fallen in love with you, Lucas.
The door of the library opened just as Lucas was adjusting the position of the painting so that it would be visible from the chair on the opposite side of the desk. Reverend Worth was ushered into the room. He beamed at his host and brandished a magazine. “Latest issue of Agricultural Review,” he announced. “Thought you might like to see it.”