Virginia And The Wolf

by Lynne Connolly

  Now he was really beginning to annoy her. She shrugged. “He wanted to buy Combe Manor. I refused his request. Nothing has changed.”

  The music changed to a lighter tune, and she glanced over his shoulder. Another set was forming. Wolverley was dancing with the second oldest Conyngham daughter. Her lips curved. He had not escaped Lady Conyngham’s clutches, then. Served him right.

  “I’m glad to hear it. Mama never approved of him. You do not have to receive Wolverley at all.”

  She injected a chilly tone into her voice. “Who I receive does not concern you.”

  Jamie crooked his arm and held it out. Either she laid her hand on it, or she embarrassed him by refusing, and caused more gossip. So she took it and tried not to sigh too hard. He raised a bushy brow. “Do you find my company so tedious?”

  Should she tell him the truth and say yes? Instead, she smiled gently. “Of course I do not.”

  He began to walk, so of course she had to move with him. Casting an apologetic glance behind her at the ladies, she promenaded with Jamie around the edge of the dance floor. People watched them, of course. Since the explosive nature of Ralph’s will had become known, they awaited developments. Most had expected a marriage, but Virginia had disappointed them.

  They paused to speak to a few people, and Virginia did her best to ignore Wolverley glaring at her from the dance floor like the jealous lover he had no right to be. His partner nudged him, and with a laugh, which Virginia saw rather than heard, he turned back to her.

  Perhaps letting Jamie pay public attention to her would confuse the gossips. But she did not want to be labeled a flirt, either. This balancing of attention was so damned difficult. Being aloof was infinitely easier.

  Jamie followed the exchange. “You need a large footman, someone to deter him. I am alarmed that someone should barge into your house in that way, Virginia. Would you permit me to recommend someone?”

  When he used her first name, it didn’t have the same effect as when Wolverley used it. She felt no thrills, no desire to get closer to him.

  “I have two burly footmen in my house, Jamie, and if required, they could have dealt with Wolverley. I doubt it would have taken their efforts to persuade him to leave. He is, after all, a gentleman.”

  Jamie spared a glance to where Wolverley was observing them from the dance floor. “Are you sure?” He smiled at Wolverley and then turned away to concentrate on her.

  “Positive, but I thank you for your concern.” She wanted only her own servants in her house. They should all answer directly to her. Obviously word had spread about Wolverley’s visit, but normally, people would dismiss any concerns. Now, thanks to Wolverley’s totally unwarranted attention, it would rise again.

  Drat the man.

  Stepping onto the floor with Jamie, she passed Wolverley on his way off it. Resisting the temptation to thumb her nose at him, she bestowed a gracious smile on him instead. The man had the effrontery to kiss the tips of his fingers and extend them gracefully, as if sending his kiss to her.

  Virginia ignored him.

  * * * *

  Francis left the dance floor smiling. His gesture had not gone unnoticed. Nor would his future advances. He must take care, lest he seriously compromise her and set her against him. He didn’t want to marry her under any cloud.

  Lady Dulverton was dazzlingly lovely. Despite her determined attempt to behave older than her years, that only added a gracious elegance to her appearance. And her dark, nearly black hair did not take powder well, so she mostly left it off. That meant she was often the only dark head in a sea of powdered hair. Easy to spot.

  “Has her own style, don’t she?”

  He turned his head to see Col watching him with amusement. “You’re still here? I thought you’d taken off for pastures new an hour ago.”

  Col drew a gold-and-enamel snuffbox from his coat pocket and regarded it critically, tracing the outline of a tiny Venus with the tip of his finger.

  “I wouldn’t miss this show for the world, dear boy. It’s far more amusing than anything that has shown in the theaters this season. I fear Garrick is losing his touch, but you could easily replace him.”

  The company was so thin Francis could have struck a theatrical pose, arm up, leg back, eyes staring into something in the distance, and not hit anybody. Instead he chose to lift his arm and put the back of his hand to his forehead in the accepted gesture for despair.

  “You wound poor Garrick, sir! How could you imagine anything more divine than his Richard III!”

  “Effortlessly,” Col said, unimpressed. He lifted a minuscule pinch of snuff to his nose, sniffed and flourished his lace-edged handkerchief as he snapped the box closed and returned it to his pocket. “But if you continue to court Lady Dulverton in public, you’ll have to propose, you know. What if she accepts?”

  Francis gave him a derisive grin. “Maybe I’ll let her.”

  “She might,” Col said. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you when she thinks she’s unobserved. You’ve hidden your tendre very well, my dear, but you don’t fool me.”

  Francis stuck his hands in his pockets inelegantly. “You’re deluded.”

  “No, I’m not.” Col moved, his controlled grace the result of hours spent in the fencing salon. “Meanwhile, I must go and worship at the feet of my latest obsession. If I do not make haste, someone else will take Miss Childers in to supper.”

  “You’re wasting your time. She will take no one to husband.”

  Col shrugged. “I know. I’m not concerned about her fortune, only all that loveliness going to waste.” He shot Francis a sharp glance as if about to say something, but then thought better of it and looked away.

  Francis’s gaze strayed to Virginia, now dancing with the younger Harris boy and trying not to look bored. He knew her too well. The slight movement of her body, the way she fixed her concentration on her partner in the dance told him that whatever young Gregory was saying, she was trying hard not to yawn. He smiled at the slight movement of her jaw.

  “Good luck with your quarry,” he murmured as Col walked away in the direction of Spinster’s Corner. Truly, since the SSL had come into existence, that corner saw more activity than the rest of the ballroom.

  * * * *

  After an hour, Francis finally made his way into the supper room to find that she was not there. When he found Col sitting at a cozy table for two with Miss Childers, he discovered Virginia had not yet entered the supper room.

  Where had she gone? Vaguely disturbed, he took a stroll around the other rooms open to the guests, barely dodging another of Lady Conyngham’s daughters. The eldest and most desperate, at that.

  While the ladies of the SSL had found something useful to do with their time, the oldest Conyngham spent most of her days whining. That high-pitched nasal tone had found its way into the nightmares of several eligible men. However if he told her she should forget marriage and men would come flocking, she wouldn’t believe him and probably accuse him of insulting her.

  So he would not. He would merely do as every other man did and take care she did not trap him in a corner.

  Virginia was not in the supper room, nor had she returned to the ballroom, where the musicians were taking a well-earned rest. Guests moved onto the floor and stood with glasses of wine chattering, but Virginia was not among them. She had not sought sanctuary in the music room either, or the card room.

  His disquiet forced him to continue to search for her.

  He was strolling along the hallway upstairs where the ladies had been given a retiring room when he heard the scream. Not loud, and quickly suppressed, but he needed no more than that to recognize Virginia’s voice. The sound had come from behind a door further up the corridor. After a false start, he found it.

  The room was a bedchamber, from the looks of it a guest room, since there were no personal items on display.
When he saw what had transpired here, Francis locked the door behind him and pocketed the key.

  This was a trap if ever he’d seen one. The candles set in wall sconces around the room softly illuminated his quarry. Virginia sat on the bed, her cheeks and bosom flushed, her clothes in disarray and her hair tousled, not at all the neat, glossy bun and carefully arranged curls that had been on display in the ballroom.

  Dulverton leaned over her, one palm against the mattress, the other gripping Virginia’s shoulder. He glanced over his shoulder with a grin of triumph, but when he saw Francis, he lost the smile. Who was Dulverton expecting? His brother, with a troupe of guests to witness his conquest? But he’d tried too hard for the conquest.

  Dulverton took his time straightening. He shot Francis a triumphant smile. “Ah, Wolverley. You may congratulate us.”

  “No, you may not,” Virginia snapped sharply.

  “Not unless you include me in your charming tryst.” Francis added an insulting drawl to his voice, strolling over to the bed as if he truly intended to join them. “Really, Dulverton, you have no imagination at all. Did you truly believe you could shame Virginia into marrying you?”

  He stood, staring down at her as Dulverton straightened. His neckcloth was askew, and he had a nasty gleam in his eyes. “I’ll thank you to take yourself off,” Dulverton said.

  Francis continued to give Virginia all his attention. Although she was putting a brave face on, she was shaken. Her breath came in short gasps, making her bosom quiver under the tight lacing, and her hands were trembling. She had lost her famous poise and appeared younger and far too vulnerable.

  Francis’s heart went out to her. Finally, after sending Virginia an unspoken message of reassurance, he lifted his head and confronted Jamie Dulverton.

  He was bright-eyed, glaring at Francis as if he wanted to turn him to stone. Francis was not surprised.

  “You may leave us,” Jamie said.

  “I am not a servant,” Francis reminded him. If Dulverton had known Francis better, that quiet, steady tone might have alarmed him. But unfortunately—for Dulverton—he did not. He had never been very good at assessing people’s moods.

  Francis turned his head, not giving Dulverton the chance to issue a challenge, formal or otherwise, and addressed Virginia. “Do you want me to leave, Virginia?”

  “Not at all,” she answered instantly. “But I would like Jamie to leave. I fear he’s been overcome by the drink—or something.”

  From the red mark adorning Dulverton’s cheek, Francis would put twenty guineas on the “something” being a hard slap. Good for her.

  She spoke, her voice firmer than before. “Jamie, while your attention is flattering, I do not want to consider marrying anyone. I am enjoying what I have, and I have—things—to do before I even think about marrying again.”

  “I’m deeply relieved to discover this was an honorable offer of marriage,” Francis said, aware of his own sanctimoniousness, “instead of a dishonorable proposal. However, Dulverton, I fear your time has passed. Would you like me to let you out?”

  Plucking the key out of his pocket, he flourished it.

  Someone tried the door. Then they tried it again.

  “Perhaps we should wait,” Francis murmured.

  Dulverton swallowed. Then he nodded, flushing even redder than before. He’d been found out and he knew it. The door-rattlers would no doubt be the witnesses invited to force Virginia’s decision and then to congratulate the happy pair. They were out of luck.

  He seemed almost relieved. Francis marked the swift change of expression but did not comment on it.

  “I will let you out now,” Francis said. “Five minutes after that, I will follow, and we will tell no one that anyone else was in the room. Lady Dulverton may leave in her own time. If she is discovered on her own, why then, she has mistaken this room for the room set aside for the guests’ use.”

  Dulverton nodded and turned to Virginia. “Indeed, I beg your pardon. I did not intend for this to go so far. I merely meant to appeal to you to consider my proposal. I have the greatest respect for you, and I can only apologize for alarming you.”

  Mending his boats, Francis thought cynically. So he could come at her again another time. Otherwise, she might bar him from her house. If society got wind of a rift between the two, Dulverton might never find his way back to her.

  If Francis had his way, that was exactly what would happen.

  He went to the door and waited for Dulverton to join him. Francis unlocked the door and, careful to stay out of sight, let Dulverton leave.

  The sound of raucous voices flooded in from the hall.

  “Oh, there you are!” in mock surprise, and “Do you have anything to tell us?” put in for good measure.

  Touching his finger to his lips to remind Virginia to be silent, Francis let the door swing nearly closed, so he could listen without being seen. If they tried to come in, he would claim he was with them the whole time, and that Virginia had felt faint, so they had together escorted her in here and were about to call a maid.

  The voices faded away as the group went up the corridor in the direction of the stairs.

  Francis closed the door. Then he locked it.

  Chapter 4

  Francis turned around to see Virginia huddled on the bed, her arms wrapped protectively around herself. He couldn’t bear to see her like that. She’d turned her face away from him, but hair straggled down from the knot at the back of her head to drape over her cheek. Her shoulders slumped in a way he’d never seen on her before, and she looked young and fearful.

  Instinctively he knew she wouldn’t want anyone to see her like this. Should he leave? No, the very thought of abandoning her made him feel ill.

  He crossed the room to her and sat on the bed, giving a good foot and a half of space between them. “What did he do to you? Do I need to call him out?”

  She shook her head, releasing more strands of silky hair to join the carefully coiffed curls touching her neck. Earlier he’d watched them teasing her shoulders, longing, as many men in that room did, to touch, to feel the threads of silk running through his fingers, over his skin.

  This was about her, not him. Ignoring the wants screaming at him, he gently placed his fingers on her shoulder. “Virginia?”

  She spun around and lurched forward, right into his arms. Naturally he closed them around her, all his protective instincts rising to the fore. When she rested her cheek against his chest, the gesture felt natural, as if this was meant to happen. As if she belonged there.

  She was shaking, a fine tremor running through her body.

  Ignoring the panic rising to shorten his breath, he held her, let her nestle. He touched his lips to the top of her head, so softly she couldn’t have felt it. “What is it, sweetheart?”

  Damn, he hadn’t meant to let that out. Maybe she hadn’t heard him properly. If she didn’t draw attention to it, then he certainly wouldn’t. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No.” She sucked in a deep breath, her soft bosom lifting. She wasn’t wearing a fichu, so the tops of her breasts were bare. Her skin tempted him, drew him, but he kept his hands firmly on her back, supporting her, holding her close.

  “He didn’t hurt me.” Her voice trembled. “No, he did not. But I came to use the ladies’ room, and he said there was something he wanted to show me that I would enjoy seeing. So I came with him, in here.”

  She gave a shaky laugh and buried her face against his chest. The clock on the mantelpiece tinkled the half hour. Neither of them moved. Francis waited until she was ready to speak again. Every one of his muscles tensed, waiting for what she had to tell him.

  Eventually she spoke again. “He went down on one knee and asked me to marry him. I told him to get up and stop being foolish.”

  She dropped her chin, so that Francis couldn’t see her eyes. When she looked up ag
ain, moving a little away from his chest to look at his face, she was smiling, but those blue eyes were bleak. What had the bastard done to her?

  “Jamie got to his feet and dragged me to him. I could hardly breathe. Then he kissed me and tried to force his tongue into my mouth.” She shuddered. “How disgusting!”

  Disgust was not what Francis had seen. He’d seen fear. Virginia carefully guarded her emotions, and fear was something he had never seen in her before. He wanted to know why. And then he would stop it happening again.

  Had nobody done that before with her, or had she just objected to Dulverton doing it? Francis didn’t answer her. He had to know more before he gave her his response. He would give her what she needed when he knew what that was.

  She went on, sitting very still, her body contained. “I pushed him away, but I lost my balance and fell back onto the bed. I was lying in a tumble of skirts and hoops and trying to make some sense of it when he came on top of me. He nearly crushed me. He was so heavy, and I lost my breath. Then he kissed me again.”

  Francis tried not to hold her too tightly, but he longed to pull her close, surround her with himself. But how foolish would that be, after Dulverton had mauled her?

  “Did he do anything else?”

  He held his breath until she said, “Isn’t that enough? I could not bear it. He treated me as if I meant nothing, as if I was his to do whatever he wished to. I pushed him away, I sat up, and he got off me. I slapped him. Then you came.”

  He breathed out very slowly. Dulverton had done no more than behave clumsily. But Virginia was behaving as if nobody had done that to her before, or treated her so roughly. Her husband must have handled her like porcelain if a little awkwardness unnerved her so much.

  What exactly had gone on in her marriage? Despite the age difference, Ralph and Virginia had been devoted to one another. Everyone had considered it a love match, like the one between Francis’s parents.

  Dulverton had been absent for years in the army, and when he’d sold out, he’d visited friends in Nottinghamshire and found a wife. Virginia had put Ralph’s nose out of joint. He’d brought her to a local assembly, and there Francis had seen her for the first time.