by Beth Byers
She sat under a large umbrella to protect her skin from the sun. The young woman next to her was as blonde as her mother with as lovely blue eyes. The two of them could easily have been a spectrum of beauty from one to the other, reflecting it back. One the beautiful example of youth. The other was elegant and lovely with skin so carefully protected from the damage of the sun that they could have almost been sisters.
Except, of course, the younger woman was cheerful and kind. The blue eyes in Isolde’s face somehow drew attention to the bright blue of Lady Eleanor’s. The slender fingers on Lady Eleanor somehow accentuated the fine lines of Isolde’s neck. And so it went, feature by feature. Beauty by beauty.
Vi might have admitted to desperate jealousy except she knew Lady Eleanor rather well. Vi’s mother was dead, her great aunt was dead, and she’d have considered killing to be given another mother. That relationship was precious. But this version of it was not.
“The older one?” Jerome asked, his gaze fixed lasciviously on Isolde’s chest. “Not the younger?”
“Mmm,” Vi agreed, fighting back her protective older sister. “The younger woman is the earl’s daughter.”
“I’ve been looking for her.”
Vi had known it when she said it, and she didn’t feel guilty in the least for deflecting the fiend towards her sister. Not when the next step was the countess.
“Mmm,” Vi agreed. “Lady Isolde is beautiful, isn’t she?”
He nodded fervently.
“And quite wealthy,” Vi added.
Jerome’s gaze was alight with interest.
“She’s also quite newly married, desperately in love, and something of a prude on top of that.”
“I’ve plowed my way through a prude before,” Jerome said, without hesitation.
Vi would have gagged, but he was right there and her revenge was imminent.
“Her husband is young, strong, and shell-shocked. It’s a dangerous prospect.”
Jerome groaned, barely hiding his desire for her sister. “The older one is quite lovely.”
“She is,” Vi agreed. She didn’t even object to the truth of it. Lady Eleanor was cool, icy beauty personified. If the Greek gods had been real, Lady Eleanor could have passed for one of them.
“She seems…unattainable.”
Oh, she was, Vi thought, but her expression didn’t show the truth. “Eleanor Carlyle’s cold veneer is not to be believed. She only seems that way when she’s the countess. Underneath that cool exterior, she’s a tiger.”
“Fiery underneath?” Jerome asked, seeming to doubt Vi. “Are you certain?”
Vi looked at her stepmother with her frigid expression and cold eyes. Every hair was in place. She spoke with a tilt to her head that conveyed her constant judgement of those around her.
“Oh, I’m certain.”
Maybe Jerome just wanted to believe Vi’s story about Lady Eleanor because he needed to? He looked at Lady Eleanor’s extreme wealth and saw something he needed. Was he broke? Perhaps his allowance was late? Or he’d spent it all, and the next installment was months out? Maybe Jerome was hunting a rich woman desperately because of some pressing bill?
She told him what he wanted to hear. “Neglected and angry with her husband. Anyone can see the old fellow doesn’t pay attention to her. He’s focused on hunting, his cronies, his sons, and possibly a mistress or two.”
“Well-aimed compliments then?” Jerome asked. His smooth, suave smile had returned, confidence filling his gaze. “Snippets of poems?”
“Just the famous poems,” Vi said easily. “The countess isn’t very bookish. Pay careful attention to her more than anything else. Never let your eyes turn away. She’ll noticed immediately if you consider the options and she’ll no longer be available. Don’t get sidetracked by younger prey; Lady Eleanor will see it in an instant and throw you over.”
Should Vi feel bad about what she was doing to her stepmother? Lady Eleanor wasn’t a demon even if she was a terrible stepmother. Was that worth this level of vengeance? Vi felt guilty for a moment and then Lady Eleanor met Vi’s gaze and sent her a dark look across the green.
“Of course. Starting to feel the bloom fading, is she? Makes a woman a little easier to snare, really.”
Lady Eleanor cared about her looks, of course, but she’d secured her earl. What she wanted now was to be respected. She had found her place among the nobility and young women didn’t rule among those Lady Eleanor cared about. She needed age and a persona of a queen to rule among the other titled women.
Vi, however, whispered as if imparting a state secret, “If you play your cards right, you might just find yourself quite a wealthy, well-connected paramour. She’s desperate for attention.”
He almost giggled.
Vi nodded her head towards her stepmother and said, “Don’t come from my direction. She hasn’t liked me since I was quite small. Sidle up from out of sight with a drink in your hand and a compliment on her skin.”
Her skin? Vi wasn’t sure where that came from.
Jerome winked at Violet and headed towards the little outdoor bar that her twin was leaning on.
Vi grinned at her unsuspecting brother. He was going to discover what she did, and no one would enjoy it like the two of them. The twins were reflections of each other and not just in looks. Though they both had slender builds with sharp angles, dark hair, and eyes, it was their similar way of thinking that made them identical.
Vi watched her brother greet the fellow while Jerome Albertson requested two drinks. He held up two fingers and said something, leaning towards the barman with that suave grin. Jerome must use those looks of his whenever possible.
He must have asked if the barman knew Lady Eleanor’s favorite drink because the barman turned and glanced towards Lady Eleanor and then poured two glasses of chilled white wine.
Vi would have crowed at the look of shock on Victor’s face, but that would have given her away. The shock on his face morphed into a slow evil grin. With a slow glance around, he met her gaze. He seemed to preternaturally know where she was located. Vi saluted her twin and across the distance and they turned towards their stepmother in sync.
In unison, the twins’ expressions evened into bright expectation. Vi bit her bottom lip as Jerome offered the chilled wine glass. Lady Eleanor raised a cold brow at him and Jerome grinned that same easy, unconcerned expression that didn’t wilt in the slightest to whatever Lady Eleanor said to him. Instead Jerome said something to Isolde and took a seat next to Lady Eleanor.
Vi watched her stepmother freeze looking at Jerome as though he were something nasty. He sidled in, determined, and Lady Eleanor stared. How dare he? She did say something, but Jerome’s suave grin didn’t fade in the least. Vi noted, however, him smoothing back his hair and taking in a barely disguised deep breath.
Vi glanced at her twin who had choked on a laugh and then he lifted his glass to her. She’d have gone to him, but Ham and Rita had approached while Vi watched the show unfold.
“It’s the couple of the hour—” Vi gave them a teasing wink and adjusted her phrase to, “—the week. This is the biggest wedding I’ve ever been part of, and I’ve seen two dukes marry their lucky young loves.”
“You can’t distract me,” Rita told Vi. “I saw what you did. Did you set Jerome Albertson on your stepmother?”
Rita’s sparkling blue eyes were lit with mirth and a level of mischief that matched Vi’s.
“Vi looks like trouble,” Ham told Rita, perfectly content.
She smiled as Ham leaned in and kissed her on the temple. Vi had to hold back her sigh at the way Rita curled into the heat of Ham’s kiss. Vi and Jack were the same, but she loved seeing it for Ham and Rita. “Who is this Jerome?”
“One of the most terrible rogues I know. And he’s whispering into Lady Eleanor’s ear as we speak.”
Ham’s gaze moved to Lady Eleanor, widened, and then he choked into his fist.
Vi grinned at Rita who glowed in return. Finally, fina
lly, Rita believed in the love and devotion of Ham who had flubbed up rather terribly at one time. Vi felt the grin twitching at the edge of her mouth while she tried for an innocent expression, complete with wide innocent eyes. Jack wouldn’t have believed her for a second, but perhaps Ham? His gaze narrowed and she knew she failed. Rita snorted when Vi gave it up and grinned evilly.
“That innocent business won’t work on us, devil,” Rita told Vi. “We know you too well.”
“This is going to end in murder,” Ham muttered, refusing to look even though Rita and Vi were sneaking glances at the table. “Your stepmother is going to wring your neck and leave your body for Jack to discover.”
“Too rough,” Vi told him, shaking her head. “Too bloody for the countess. I’m merely risking my eyes getting scratched out. This Jerome Albertson needs to come down a peg. If there is anyone capable of taking a person down a few notches, it is Lady Eleanor Carlyle.”
“What did he do to you?” Rita asked, laughing. “Discover you were the infamous heiress and throw himself at your feet?”
Vi’s voice was cool when she said, “He talked about you like you were nothing more than a bank account capable of financing whatever adventures and debts might come his way. And his friend, Percival, is worse.”
Ham closed his eyes as Rita laughed lightly. Ham took in a strengthening breath and muttered, “I think that you two are worse than a whole regiment of green soldiers. You’re going to drive me to my grave.”
“Worse, certainly.” Rita told him, “but far more fun. Vi is right. Percival and Jerome deserve to be taken down a few pegs. Percival Batting proposed to me so many times I used to hide from him.”
“Where is Jack again?” Ham muttered, but he’d noted Rita’s statement. Vi could almost see Ham file it away in his head. Something like keep an eye on Percival Batting.
“Since you love us too much to wring our necks—” Vi gestured to herself and Rita. “The only risk to our safety is Lady Eleanor. I think, if it came down to it, Rita and I could overpower my stepmother.”
Ham took in a fortifying breath.
“Don’t worry so much,” Rita told Ham, patting his cheek lightly. “This is our happy ever after.”
“Plus,” Vi added brightly. “Lady Eleanor is far too proper to commit murder herself. I’m not saying pointed asides won’t happen for the rest of my life, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“And for us, Ham my love,” Rita added even more merrily than Vi, “the only result is pure entertainment.”
Chapter 3
Vi curled onto her side in the bedroom that had been given to her and Jack. Only their friends were on this floor of this wing. Next door was Victor and Kate. The door down from there was Lila and Denny. The end suite housed the nannies, Victor’s twin daughters, and baby Lily. Across the hall in the massive lord-of-the-manor suite was Ham and Rita. It was so large that it was painful.
The antique bed had come with the house, but they’d updated the bedding, the mattress, and the curtains around it. It was large enough for one of Ham’s regiments of soldiers. The bed that Jack and Vi curled into the middle of could have easily housed a pack of dogs, a dozen children, or one of those terrifying, over-sized American bears. She giggled as she looked around and told him, “We could never leave this bed and still get lost.”
Jack’s snort of laughter was just what she wanted to hear given the tightness of his gaze. That tightness had been there fairly often since he and Ham had ended their careers at Scotland Yard. It had only increased after spending the day with Vi’s father, her brother-in-law, oldest brother, and youngest brother. “Was Father horrible in the ruins?”
“The earl seems to be in a mood. Gerald as well. Geoffrey—the wart—was the most tolerable of your family today. Even Tomas made my back teeth hurt.”
Vi gasped. Tomas was her and Victor’s long-time friend and he suffered from shell-shock. “Was he having flashbacks?”
“No, he was waxing poetic over his baby and wouldn’t stop. Not even after your father snapped at him.”
Vi bit down on her bottom lip to hold back her giggles, but it wasn’t enough and they burst through.
“The only saving grace of the day,” Jack said with a snort, “was finding some trespassing guest who was trying to sneak a peek at the scavenger hunt grounds. I drove him off just to escape your family. Once the interloper was out of the ruins, I followed and left the rest behind.”
Vi laid her head on his shoulder and they both looked towards the window. There was something happening on the grounds. Vi grinned at Jack and rolled off the bed. She hurried across their bedroom, near acre that it was, and turned off the lights.
“Let’s watch,” Vi said, tiptoeing to the window to peek out unobserved.
He was next to her as they knelt by the window and looked down on the grass. Two couples seemed to have met in the garden and it had ended in shouting.
“Rita’s friends are horrible,” Jack muttered. “This isn’t even the first argument I’ve seen today. I watched a woman throw a glass of wine in her companion’s face, that man I escorted out of the ruins got in a shouting argument within moments of my leaving him, and I watched some girl weeping as she spoke to her lover near the folly. She was practically begging for whatever she wanted, and he shook her off as though she were an interloper instead of a lover.”
“We’re Rita’s friends,” Vi whispered, unable to help thinking of her stepmother and what she’d done. Should she confess? Vi hid her expression in his shoulder as she decided to not say a word.
“Barring us, of course. Your brother.” Jack paused and then added, “Your twin brother; Gerald was a right prick today. We’ll include Denny and Lila in those we like. The rest are awful.”
“I like Gerald,” Vi said of her father’s heir. “I like his betrothed even—”
Vi gasped as the one of the girls shoved the other opposite gent back, and he tripped. The woman next to him screamed and then slapped the first man so hard his head jerked to the side. Vi giggled and then whispered, “Aren’t you glad we don’t have to deal with this? It seems like it’s always you who has to step out then and haul one of the brawlers off the other.”
Jack snorted and then asked, “As a man of leisure and a former detective, I only have to deal with learning to make excellent cocktails from Victor and buying a fatter set of clothes like Denny. Will you put me on diets as Lila does when I get too fat?”
Vi’s giggles turned into hearty laughter as she imagined a chubby Jack, who made Michelangelo’s David seem effeminate. Vi tangled her fingers with Jack’s, as they watched both Ham and Mr. Russell leave the house to deal with the fighting couples.
“Poor Ham,” Vi muttered as she watched him pull the struggling woman back and say something to the other fellow. The woman turned on Ham, and he had to grab her by her wrists to keep her from scratching his face. Whatever tolerance he had for her had faded and Vi could tell, despite the distance, that Ham was furious.
Mr. Russell said something next that had Ham shooting his soon-to-be father-in-law a dark expression, but Ham pushed the woman into Mr. Russell’s arms. Ham’s response was low, but Vi knew better than to trust a calm Ham. Both Ham and Jack were cut from the same cloth, and they both were silent in their fury. Was Ham angry or was he just controlled? Was he glad to hand the woman over or had Mr. Russell said something that would needle Ham that evening?
“Jack,” Vi asked, “do you think that Ham and Philip are enemies?”
“I think they’re struggling over who is first in Rita’s life.”
“Who is?” Vi asked.
Jack shot her a look.
“All right,” Vi muttered. “Ham is first. Philip doesn’t like that he’s lost his place.”
“It’s hard for fathers,” Jack told Vi. “Philip is seeing the little girl version of his daughter, hates that Ham and Rita are sharing a bed, and hates that the day of his being first in her heart passed while he wasn’t paying attention.
Philip is a father who loves his daughter. He’s scared that he’s going to lose her and he’s not wise enough to just have a sincere conversation with her.”
Vi felt a flash of jealousy over Rita. Vi’s own relationship with her father was troubled, to say the least. The argument between the fighting couples ended when Mr. Russell led one off while Ham shooed the other another way.
“Do you think this is what Rita wanted?” Jack asked.
Vi shook her head. The only thing Rita wanted was a pretty dress, pretty flowers, and Ham. This multi-day party that Mr. Russell had engineered wasn’t anything like something Rita would have arranged, but she’d pasted a smile on her face and told him how exciting it all was.
“What do we do?”
“We support Rita and Ham,” Vi sighed, “try to have fun, and pay attention to all of the ridiculous things, so we can bring them up. Over and over again.”
Jack’s laughter was low and he turned to face her from their kneeling position by the window. His hand cupped her cheek and he pressed a kiss to her nose and two more to her eyelids. Before he could take her breath away, she pulled back to gaze at his face. She was looking for that tightness in his eyes and was relieved to see it had faded for the moment. She let her eyes move over his face and then gasped.
“Jack!” she hissed, her gaze fixed on the shadows near the ruins. “Jack! Someone is sneaking into the ruins.”
Jack followed her gaze and then stood, pulling her up. He lifted her into his arms and said, “Mmm, I find that I don’t care. What will happen? Someone will cheat and win Russell’s prize? I have another treasure in front of me. I’m not going to worry about his.”
The next kiss took her breath and her attention, so they left the cheater to his hijinks.
Vi dressed with a casual ease the next morning. All of the events for Rita’s wedding had justified a rather excessive shopping spree. For clothing, her favorite color was a nude-like pink that brought out the rosiness in her cheeks and the pink in her lips, and accentuated her creamy skin. Vi was no great beauty like Rita, but Vi’s face was lively, her eyes bright with mischief, and she was—all in all—pretty enough. When it came down to it, she liked her face and that was enough.
