After her bath, which didn’t relax her but did leave her feeling cleaner than she’d been since beginning her journey, she crinkled her nose at the idea of donning damp clothes. She knew very well she could have had a wonderfully dry dress to wear if she had just greeted her mother normally. But there would be nothing normal about that reunion. And she certainly didn’t want it to happen in front of Monty and Charley. It was bound to be ugly—and loud with all the repressed anger that had built up over the years spilling out. William hadn’t forgiven Kathleen, and she wasn’t about to, either.
She wrapped herself in a sheet and hung the damp clothes on the furniture, hoping at least a pair of trousers and a shirt would dry quickly. She considered taking a nap, considered a ride with Snow, damp clothes or no, if the rain had let up. She went to a window to check if it was still raining and found it was. But she was arrested by the sight of the lawns she and her sisters had played on, could almost envision their games of croquet and tag, diving into large piles of autumn leaves before the gardeners could haul the piles away, building snowmen in the winter. The tears arrived, overflowed her eyes, and wouldn’t stop. She’d missed her sisters more than she’d admitted to herself. The late childhood years they might have shared were lost forever. Six years was a very long time, all three of them were adults now. Would Emily and Layla even want her back after so long?
“I know how difficult homecomings can be. When I got carried home from the war wounded, my mother and siblings wouldn’t leave my bedside. Even if you love them dearly, family can be a bloody nuisance sometimes. They wouldn’t let me sleep for all their fussing!”
She didn’t smile at Monty’s anecdote. She was a bit outraged that he had just entered her room without knocking and had come to stand right next to her. But she was also cognizant that she was naked under the sheet and how beyond the pale this was.
She turned slightly away from him, giving him mostly her back, and tightened the sheet at her breasts before she said emphatically, “You shouldn’t be in here.”
“Nor would I be if I hadn’t heard your crying from downstairs.”
He was trying to tease away her tears. It wasn’t going to work. But then he added, “Has the dam been plugged yet? I could go search for a beaver to help, but alas, they are extinct here, so I won’t lie, you’ll have to do the plugging yourself.”
That did provoke a laugh from her, but she immediately cut it off. She ought to be reprimanding him, but she just didn’t want to. She was still a little incredulous that he was even in her home, that they’d been heading to the same destination all along while they’d been so determined to keep secrets from each other. But considering all that had happened on that trip, she wondered if he was simply treating her as the boy he’d first thought her to be and really didn’t think there was anything untoward about being in her room. But he couldn’t do that anymore.
Then she felt his hands on her shoulders, massaging them, drawing forth the most exquisite sensations. “I’m sure I can take your mind off the dilemma you face, Nessi,” he whispered by her ear.
Wrong! He wasn’t treating her as a boy. She shrugged away from his hands. “Behave like a gentleman for once and go.”
He tsked. “I’m always a gentleman, I just have more fun than others. But until you’re dressed as a lady, I’m not inclined to be the gentleman for you—nor have you wanted me to be.”
Chapter Fifteen
VANESSA GASPED AT HIS blatant reminder of the kiss they’d shared in that meadow. She swung around to glare at Monty, but he was already holding up his hands in a conciliatory manner and quickly said, “I was going to add, go borrow some of your sisters’ clothes. I’ll even stand watch for you while you do. My sisters always stole each other’s clothes, though I think they only did it to have an excuse to fight with each other—they did so love to do that. And then dressed as you ought to be, you can present yourself to your mother on an even footing, so to speak. It’s much better to face your fears right away, Nessi.”
“I’m not afraid of my mother, I’m afraid of what I’m going to do when I see her,” she said, turning her back on him again. “But in either case, it’s not going to be pleasant once she knows I’m back, so I would like to reunite with my sisters first.”
“Well, then! That’s a different thing altogether. So I’ll get you some clean men’s clothes if you insist on continuing your disguise, not my clothes, but Charley’s, which will fit you better—and he won’t mind a’tall now that he’s wearing hand-me-downs.”
“No, thank you. My clothes will be dry before long.”
“And yet the dinner hour approaches, such a perfect time for you to greet your mother—without the hood, of course—with me by your side,” he rejoined.
She swung around incredulously. “Are you mad? It will be so much worse if Mother finds out you knew I’m a girl while I traveled with you. She can’t learn that. You said you would keep my secret.”
“So I did, and so I will.”
“Thank you.”
“But the cat appears to be quite out of the bag, as it were, at least for me. So, it’s Lady . . . Nestor?”
She almost laughed over the way he’d paused before teasing her, but grumbled, “Not by choice.”
He chuckled. “No, of course not, newborns don’t get choices. Then may I know your real name? It’s going to come out anyway once you are officially reunited.”
“Vanessa Blackburn.”
“And you chose to live with your father in Scotland instead of here in this beautiful manor? Why did you do that? Deuced cold up there in the north, I’ve heard.”
“That’s none of your business,” she retorted.
“Family squabbles, obviously, that separated your parents? I’m good at guessing, don’t you know.”
“You’re good at being annoying,” she countered. “Go eat. Charley will have no complaints about the food tonight. Dawton Manor has an excellent cook. Just make sure a servant brings a plate up to me. Once you enter a room, little things tend to get overlooked.”
He grinned. “That’s twice now you’ve alluded to me as a dazzler. D’you really think so?”
“I think you’re full of yourself,” she replied, and pointed a finger at the door.
Instead, he touched her hair briefly, which was still a little damp from her bath, and then chucked her chin. “I wish I could say the same of you, but you aren’t the least bit. You cleaned up amazingly, Nessi. Are you aware of how beautiful you are?”
She felt the blush rising, so she stabbed her finger even more forcefully at the door. He chuckled but went toward it now, though he did pause and turn to say, “Last chance, sweetheart. Are you sure you won’t join us downstairs?”
“I’m not ready for that. I thought I was, but—not yet. I warned you it wouldn’t be pleasant, but not on Mother’s end, on mine. I hate her. I don’t intend to hide it. Which is why I want to reunite with my sisters first, before she turns them against me.”
He’d opened the door, but now he closed it again. “You can’t leave me with remarks like that. Tell me more.”
“No, and it truly is no concern of yours. I was just letting you know where most of the rage will come from, if you witness any of it. But she’ll make sure you don’t witness it. She’s like that. Appearances matter most to her.”
“All the more reason why tonight would be the perfect time for you to tell her you’re home,” he pointed out.
Possibly . . . no. She was still afraid she’d get so overwrought from the confrontation with Kathleen that she would storm out in a rage and not return, losing her chance to have the reunion she wanted. She had to see her sisters first, then she wouldn’t hesitate to find her mother and deal with the unwanted reunion.
She pointed at the door once more in answer, and this time he left. But she also locked it behind him and heard him laughing in the hall because of it.
She wasn’t tempted to deviate from her current plan, but she was very tempted to sneak downstai
rs and eavesdrop on that dinner. The problem was there would be too many servants about at that time of the evening, and one might inform Kathleen she was out there. Then Kathleen would come out and insist she join them at the table, and she really couldn’t do that wearing a hood. But temptation won out the moment she remembered that the formal dining room abutted the conservatory and in the spring and summer months, the doors that led to all that greenery and flowers were usually left open.
It was tricky getting there without being noticed. She hid in the study until she heard the family and their guests moving from the drawing room, where they had gathered to the dining room across the way. For a few minutes the wide hall was empty and she was able to run across it and slip into the conservatory.
The room was dark, only the light from the dining room left a narrow lit path through the open door. It was a perfect room to eavesdrop from. There was even a potted tree near the door that she could stand behind.
She saw Charley first, her eyes caught by all the glitter. He certainly wasn’t wearing the hand-me-downs anymore, was back in his full regalia. A concession on Monty’s part, now that they were safely ensconced in their hiding place? Monty was even in the middle of that explanation she’d overheard him making up about Charley’s neglectful parents to account for his extravagant clothes. She hoped her sisters didn’t think all those gems were real! Monty was more formally dressed tonight, too, wearing a very fancy cravat. His hair was queued back, and he looked so damn handsome, she had to force herself to move around the tree until she could get a full view of her sisters.
And then she just stood there transfixed, staring at her beloved sisters, happy tears already in her eyes. They’d grown so much! She’d left behind two girls with chubby cheeks and returned to two exquisitely beautiful young women she almost didn’t recognize. But they were still identical. While growing up they’d always differentiated themselves with colors, white for Layla, pink for Emily, wearing ribbons around their necks or in their hair and white or pink nightgowns at night. Apparently, they still wore the ribbons in their hair.
“So this will be your first Season in London?” Monty was saying. “I almost pity the young lords. Once they clap eyes on you two, not just identical, but stunning, they will be bowled over.”
That was quite a compliment. Emily giggled. “It feels like we’ve waited forever.”
“It’s going to be so exciting,” Layla added.
“How many sisters do you have?” Emily queried.
Kathleen, sitting at the head of the table with her back to the conservatory, scolded mildly, “Now, now, you promised no questions.”
Both girls blushed as if they’d made the worst sort of blunder, but Vanessa was sure it was simply because they’d just displeased their mother and they abhorred doing that. And Monty didn’t make it any easier for them by not answering the innocent question. She would have kicked him under the table if she were sitting there.
And then Charley remarked, “Where is the third daughter in that portrait?”
Vanessa couldn’t see the wall he was staring at, but she knew which portrait he was referring to. It had been painted the year before she left. It depicted her seated on a chair with a twin on either side of her, sitting on an arm of the chair. They had laughed so much that week while they’d had to sit for it because none of them could stay still for very long and the artist got so annoyed with them.
But then Charley added, “She looks familiar somehow, but how can that be?”
“Because aside from the hair, she closely resembled her sisters when she was young,” Kathleen replied.
“We expect she will be home from the West Indies soon, because her trunks have already arrived,” Layla said excitedly.
Vanessa panicked at the mention of the West Indies. Monty would realize she’d been keeping secrets from her own family! She held her breath, praying he wouldn’t mention something about Scotland. But he looked only a little confused, might even be thinking that she’d lied to him about living in Scotland these last years.
And Kathleen was explaining, “She traveled with her father and has been gone for several years.”
“Six years is more than several, Mother,” Emily said almost angrily.
“Emily!”
For once, Emily didn’t back down from one of Kathleen’s rebukes. “She never even said goodbye to us! And not one letter from her in all that time!”
“She added notes to Papa’s letters,” Layla reminded her.
“Did she really? When those notes were penned in his handwriting?”
In that particular quiet tone that all her daughters recognized as the one that masked her fury, Kathleen said, “Perhaps you are not ready for London, after all. Apologize, darling.”
“That isn’t necessary,” Monty said, trying to intervene.
Vanessa was crying by then and slipped out of the room to run back upstairs. She had wanted to write! But every time she started to she ended up crying because she missed her sisters so much. And what could she really say about life on a Caribbean island, where her sisters thought she’d been living, when she’d never been to one?
But while she ate her own solitary dinner, which a servant had left outside her door, she was determined to come up with a good explanation for Emily—if she could without telling her the truth. She was going to sneak into her sisters’ room that very night. She just had to wait until everyone was asleep.
Chapter Sixteen
VANESSA LEANED AGAINST THE wall by the parlor doors, her head bent very low to make sure her hood was hiding her face. She imagined the servants who passed her were giving her odd looks, but she didn’t budge, because in that spot she could hear her sisters’ voices in the parlor. But, annoyingly, they were speaking softly, so she couldn’t make out most of what they were saying. She was also straining to hear if Kathleen was in there with them.
She was so angry at herself for falling asleep last night before the house had gone quiet. She planned to take a long nap today so that wouldn’t happen again, and a long ride first to tire herself out. She remained in the hall in case the girls were alone in the parlor. If they were, she could grab them as they walked out, run them up to their old playroom, and have her reunion right now.
Listening to her sisters, she couldn’t help thinking they giggled too much, then she cringed, remembering she used to giggle as well. When had that stopped? Of course she knew—the very day she’d run away with her father and embraced a different style of life that had been exciting and wonderfully unrestrictive. What if her sisters would be appalled by the life she had been living away from here? It looked as if Kathleen had turned them into perfect young debutantes. She might not have anything in common with them anymore!
“Is there something wrong with your face, Nestor, that requires you to wear a hood in the house?”
Bloody hell, she’d missed her chance to catch her sisters alone! Kathleen wasn’t in the parlor, she was standing right beside her.
“Yes, ma’am,” she said in a very low tone. “Plagued by unsightly blemishes, ma’am.”
“The bane of some children, I suppose. Our cook, Mrs. Griggs, might know of a remedy. Why don’t you run along and ask her?”
Vanessa bolted down the hall to the back of the house. But she couldn’t talk to the cook. She knew Mrs. Griggs well from all the times she and the twins had run into the kitchen for a sweet treat. They’d all three been daring back then, ignoring their mother’s litany that “Ladies do not go in the kitchen, do not make friends with the servants, do not, do not, do not . . .” As children, that list of “do nots” had seemed endless.
She did pass through the kitchen, but quickly, to go straight outside to the stable. She’d take that ride now. One of the stable boys helped her saddle Snow quickly, but Donnan arrived before she left.
“Did you get settled for the duration?” she asked. “Any complaints?”
He didn’t answer and was frowning at her. “Why are ye still wearing those
clothes?”
“Because my mother doesn’t know I’m home yet, and I didn’t mean that sort of complaint.”
“And why doesna she know?”
“Because I haven’t told her,” she replied. “I want to talk to my sisters first, but I’m having a deuced hard time getting them alone.”
“So yer not trying tae escape?” he said, staring at her horse.
She laughed. “No, just going out for my last ride before I’ll need an escort.”
“Ye still need an escort. I’ll join ye.”
“No, you won’t, not this time. This is my very last day of freedom. Tomorrow I’ll be back in a dress and you can escort me then, but not today. Besides, my mother’s property is huge. If I see anyone a’tall, I’ll race back home. Now where are you off to?”
“Tae visit the town nearby tae see if they’ve any good taverns worth a second look.”
She grinned. “At least two as I recall, maybe more by now. Dawton town is rather big. But by all means, see for yourself, and you can save me the trip if you’ll post this for me?” She handed him a letter she’d written to her father to let him know she’d arrived safely.
“Ye dinna put the address on it,” he said as he glanced at the envelope.
“Because it needs to go to your father’s house and I haven’t dug into my trunks yet to find the address. Your father knows to send it on to mine.”
“Ye Blackburns act like bluidy spies,” he mumbled.
She grinned. “Not really, just protecting my father’s privacy. Father did warn you that no one can know where we’ve been.”
“Aye.”
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