by Erica Ridley
Family, however… Virginia had been much better off ever since she escaped the asylum.
“Can you at least avoid the beau monde?” she asked.
“Afraid not,” he said dryly.
She cuddled Duke close to keep the shivers at bay. Nothing was scarier than the haut ton.
Thousands of perfect, elegant people with high expectations, who believed themselves placed upon this earth to point out each other’s flaws and rule over the rest.
Worst of all, the smart set preferred to do so in crowded, noisy places, filled with the stench of too many perfumes and the elbows of too many bodies and the glittering lights of too many crystal chandeliers. All that, whilst being expected to live up to an unwritten standard.
If London was Virginia’s personal hell, Christmas was heaven on earth.
Here, she was not required to attend any gatherings unless she so wished. She was free to stick to quiet corners, or to stay close to a good friend. If the public dining area was too loud, the kitchen could send a tray to her room. Or she could enjoy a light repast in the park, surrounded by nature.
She didn’t have to make herself perfect for Christmas. Christmas was already perfect for her.
“Is that why you want to attend the Season?” she asked. “You miss your friends?”
“And to officially ask for the hand of my intended,” he admitted.
Her stomach dropped. “You have an intended?”
“No.” His face twisted. “Not yet. Our fathers planned the match without our consent when we were children.”
“Why consent now?”
“Father wants what is best for—” Theodore cleared his throat. “My responsibility is to secure a perfect wife. Beatrice will be one. We’ll do as duty requires.”
Beatrice.
Virginia cuddled Duke close. She had not wanted to know the intended’s name.
Nor had she wished to know that Theodore considered acquiring a “perfect” wife to be a reasonable and achievable goal. He had managed to find this wonder of womanhood decades ago. An incredible length of time. Longer than any one person had ever stayed in Virginia’s life.
“Do you love her?” she asked softly.
“No,” he answered without hesitation. “She holds no tender feelings for me, either. It doesn’t matter. Once we have sons, we’ll both be free to do as we please.”
Virginia was aware that members of Society did not often wed for love, and that many harbored no pretenses toward monogamy, so long as one was properly discreet about one’s extramarital activities.
Her heart twisted to think that such a future was all that awaited Theodore. He was nicer than the rest. He deserved to find a wife who liked him. Someone he liked in return.
“Is that why you are in a hurry to heal?” she asked. “Because she’s expecting you in London?”
“I am in a hurry to heal because half my body hurts like the devil. As for London…” He tightened his jaw for a long moment. “Are you able to keep a secret?”
“I often am the secret.” She sat Duke on the floor. “What do you need?”
His brow furrowed, but then he pulled a folded letter from inside his jacket. “Can you hide this in your basket and post it from the castle without anyone seeing you?”
“Of course.” She scooped up her empty basket and slipped the letter inside. “I’ll do so at once.”
Even if it was a letter to Beatrice.
Virginia retrieved her coat and hurried from the room before she could change her mind.
She set down the basket by the front door only long enough to slip her arms into her coat and fasten the buttons, then picked up the basket and made her way back up the hill.
Halfway to the castle, she could not stand the suspense any longer. She fished the letter from the basket and flipped it over to read the direction.
The neat penmanship did not say “Beatrice” anything. The letter was addressed to a Lord Ramsbury.
Virginia shoved it back into the basket in embarrassment. She should not have looked. Who Theodore chose to correspond with should not signify.
Yet she was filled with more questions than ever.
She jogged up the final steps to the castle entrance and all but ran directly into her bosom friend Penelope and her new husband, Nicholas.
Penelope’s eyes lit up. “Off on a constitutional with Duke? I doubt he gets much exercise trapped inside a basket.”
“Nor can a bird fly inside a golden cage,” Virginia stammered. She hoped Penelope would not have more questions about where she had been. “Were you looking for me?”
Nicholas grinned. “We were doing biscuit reconnaissance. Penelope with her notebook and I with my stomach.”
Virginia tried not to be hurt that they had not been looking for her after all.
“Have you heard of a Lord Ramsbury?” she blurted out.
“Is he here?” Nicholas glanced over his shoulder. “The marquess is a cold fish, but his son is a standup fellow. Honest, clever, well-respected. Good chap.”
“Is he here?” she asked.
Nicholas shook his head. “Lord Ormondton is off on the continent fighting Boney.”
Lord Ormondton.
Theodore was titled.
Virginia felt the blood drain from her face.
He wasn’t being tossed into High Society like a minnow into a pool of piranhas. He was High Society.
Penelope gave her husband an affectionate smile. “Perhaps your friend will be back by the time we get to London.”
Virginia stomach sank further. “You’re going to London?”
“Nicholas is used to spending the Season in town,” Penelope explained. “Now that Noelle is there, too, I thought it would be nice to pay her a visit.”
Virginia nodded. She missed their good friend, too. Virginia had just hoped Noelle would return to Christmas, not that all her other friends would leave as well.
Her heart pounded. Everyone said friendship was forever, but for Virginia it had not been. Everyone said family was forever, and for Virginia it had not been. Everyone said a mother’s love was forever. For Virginia, it had been the first to go.
She didn’t get to have the same things as everyone else.
Chapter 5
Theo gritted his teeth as he stretched his leg in another round of the movements Virginia had prescribed.
He had doubted their potential effectiveness and dreaded the inevitable pain, but to his surprise, his muscles gradually grew more limber and the pain slightly more tolerable.
Even if the pain had increased, Theo would have continued with the stretches for as long as they seemed to increase his strength. His jaw clenched. He would always be scarred and perhaps always limp, but he would be damned before he allowed himself to be weak.
Yet the biggest surprise of all had nothing to do with the slow but steady recuperation of his ravaged body.
Normally, whenever he needed to distance his mind from something that caused him pain, he would block out the rest of the world and recite verses of poetry. He’d all but memorized every stanza of his most cherished possession, a leather-bound book of poems by Matilda Bethem.
But he hadn’t needed the familiar escape in order to withstand today’s stretches. He’d forgotten about poetry altogether. All he could think about was Virginia.
She occupied his thoughts even when he did not wish to be distracted. When he shaved his jaw, tied his neckcloth, drank his tea… There she was, filling his head. The more he tried to push her from his mind, the more indelible her image became. Her face was the last thing he remembered before drifting off to sleep at night. He rather suspected she had even visited in his dreams.
Of course, any peace she had brought him shattered when her cat had awakened Theo by licking the good side of his face.
Right now, the beast was sneaking atop the dressing table to lap at the bowl of ice meant for Theo’s knee.
He rolled his chair over to shoo the cat away. After wrapping the ice i
n a cloth, he pressed it to his knee.
Duke glared up at him balefully, no doubt plotting his revenge. When Theo least expected, the stealthy beast would spring from some darkened hiding spot and lave his rough tongue across the back of Theo’s ankle or the lobe of Theo’s ear or whatever other terrifying spot Duke found amusing to dampen with cat saliva.
“Don’t even think about it,” Theo warned. “Behave. We’re stuck together.”
It was true enough. Throughout his life, Theo had prided himself on never having broken a promise. His word was very much his bond. He was careful not to give it if there was the slightest doubt of following through. Honor could not be broken.
Although he had taken care to make no promises with regard to tolerating Virginia’s intolerable cat, he could not bring himself to treat the beast with any less respect than the creature expected from his mistress. Not out of any particular affection for the misanthropic Duke, but because Theo did not wish to disappoint Virginia. Even if she would never know.
The bowl that had held the ice now only contained a small quantity of cold water.
“Very well.” Theo lifted the porcelain dish from the side table and scooted it across the carpet toward the cat. “Ice for me, water for the duke.”
Rather than graciously accept this offering, Duke extended his claws and hissed. Eyes glinting at Theo, Duke bared his teeth for an extended moment and then fled the room as if the devil himself had given chase.
“Bloody cat really does know his name,” Theo muttered. The teeth-baring hiss was an impressive trick by itself, but the extra second Duke paused to gloat before running away elevated the insult to a masterful level.
Swinton appeared in the open doorway. “Mr. T, you have a guest. Shall I show her to your private parlor or the front drawing room?”
Theo glanced up with interest. “Is it Miss Underwood?”
“Calling cards are on the dish in the main drawing room,” Swinton replied noncommittally.
Theo sent him a flat look. “Can’t you just tell me?”
“Would you like me to fetch the card for you?”
“You are the butler,” Theo reminded him. “Your job is to present me with guests’ calling cards, or at the very least inform me of their names.”
“My job is to do so for the Duke of Azureford.” Swinton reached into an inner pocket and displayed the edge of his master’s letter. “You, sir, don’t even have a proper name.”
Theo hiccupped at the reminder. Here, he wasn’t Lord Ormondton. He was Mr. T.
Outranked by a butler.
“Why doesn’t Azureford sack you?” he muttered.
Swinton raised his brows. “A wise master never sacks a man who recalls seeing him in nappies.”
Theo snorted. He now suspected unmasking himself as a peer of the realm wouldn’t give him the least advantage with Swinton.
“Do not let anyone in until I see their card,” Theo said firmly.
He wheeled himself out of his shadowed chambers and down the corridor to the main drawing room. The silver platter meant to collect calling cards was in its promised spot upon the mantel. He rolled over to pull the dish into his lap.
All four of the cards were identical, which meant Virginia had presented one on every visit, despite the staff clearly knowing her well.
That was not the strange part.
Theo’s brow furrowed as he picked up the topmost card. The thick, white rectangle was blank, save for the black silhouette of a single bird.
He flipped it over. Nothing on the other side. No names, no words of any kind. Just the featureless outline of a small bird. Frowning, he flipped over all the cards. Four black birds; nothing else.
Theo kept the cards and placed the dish back upon the mantel. “Please inform Miss Underwood—”
Soft footsteps sounded as Virginia swept into the room, a wicker basket dangling from one hand.
Apparently, Swinton had taken Don’t show anyone in until I see their card literally. Theo had seen the card. Now the guest was in.
Theo craned his neck toward the closest footman. “Please close the curtains. I do not want passers-by spying inside.”
The footman set about the task immediately.
Theo turned to Virginia. “Please take a seat wherever you like.”
She chose a chair in front of one of Azureford’s decorative folding screens.
Theo wheeled himself directly opposite to face her. “Why do your calling cards contain an image of a bird and absolutely no information about you?”
She lifted a dainty shoulder. “Everyone who knows me already knows how to find me.”
“What about the people who don’t know you?” he pointed out.
Her eyes widened. “Why would I want strangers to find me?”
Well. No arguing with that. Theo glanced down at the four cards in his hands.
“What are they? Crows? Ravens? Blackbirds?”
“Colly birds,” Virginia’s gaze slid away from him. “A few people say ‘calling birds,’ but the correct term is ‘colly’ like coal, due to their black feathers. They’re very striking against the snow.”
“Of course,” Theo murmured. Only Virginia would have a calling bird for a calling card.
As always, the outside air had brought a becoming flush to her cheeks and lips. She was once again wearing the forest green pelisse she’d been sporting the first time he saw her.
“Swinton.” Theo lifted his eyes to the butler. “Could you please guard Miss Underwood’s outerwear?”
Her gaze met his briefly. A small smile flicked at the edges of her lips. As if she had not been certain of her welcome but was pleased it had been extended.
He would not tell her that, since waking, he had spent every moment waiting for her to call.
“How are your wounds?”
“Improving,” he said with relief. “Progress is slow but unquestionable. How was your constitutional?”
“One does not need to see the sun shining overhead to feel warmed by its light.” She glanced about the parlor. “How is Duke?”
“Also a ray of sunshine,” Theo said dryly.
“Good.” She sat back. “It is important to have moments of sunshine.”
She was the ray of sun, not her irascible cat. “Did you post my letter?”
Virginia nodded. “As soon as I reached the castle.”
He waited.
She said nothing else. Asked no questions; treated him no differently. She did not seem to have deduced a connection between the name on the letter and the anonymous gentleman seated across from her.
Theo’s tight shoulders relaxed. Excellent.
His parents would have proof he was still alive, but no details on where he had chosen to convalesce. He could heal in peace. As for everyone else, it was better for them to assume Theo still off at war until he was healthy enough to take his place among the beau monde again.
At which point, he would also deal with Lady Beatrice. But until then…
“What’s in the basket?” he asked.
Her face lit up. “A wonderful surprise.”
Theo wasn’t certain he could handle any more of life’s surprises.
Virginia’s eyes sparkled. “When you said you could not visit the aviary, I felt so sorry for you—”
“Do not feel sorry for me,” he said firmly.
“—so I brought the aviary to you.”
Theo blinked. “You what?”
She opened the lid to the basket.
With a flutter of feathers, a large bird burst free and began flapping about the parlor.
“What,” Theo asked politely, “is that supposed to be?”
“A partridge,” Virginia replied. “Note the short tail and brown plumage.”
“What is a partridge doing in my parlor?” he clarified.
“The Duke of Azureford’s parlor,” came Swinton’s inflectionless voice behind him.
At this pronouncement, the cat skidded into the drawing room, hissed at
everyone present, and dashed out.
Virginia beamed at Theo in satisfaction. “Now you have a reason for an afternoon constitutional.”
“I do?” he asked with dread.
“Azureford has an outbuilding just behind the cottage. It would make a splendid temporary home for a partridge. Swinton has agreed to store Dancer there for the duration of your visit.”
Theo cast the butler a flat look over his shoulder. “Swinton is all that is kind and thoughtful.”
“All you have to do is go outside and feed him,” she continued.
He jerked his head back to Virginia. “You expect me to what?”
She pulled a fat pouch from the basket and set it atop the tea table. “A small handful every afternoon should do. Let me know when you run out of seeds, and I’ll bring more.”
“You expect me to wheel myself outside, in the snow, to an outbuilding, which will now contain a bird I did not ask for, in order to feed it seeds from the palm of my hand?” Theo asked in disbelief.
She shook her head. “Just toss them on the ground. Dancer gets excited when he eats, and his little pecks can hurt.”
“I won’t do it,” Theo said. There was too much risk of someone spotting him in his current condition. Nor did he wish to appear weak in front of the entire staff. “I’ll send a footman.”
“I’ve already asked them not to help you,” she said. “It’s your afternoon constitutional.”
“You do not command the staff. Until Azureford returns, I am the one who—”
“Not according to this.” Virginia pulled a suspiciously familiar folded letter from inside the basket.
Theo glared over his shoulder at Swinton. “You showed her Azureford’s instructions?”
The butler gazed back at him impassively.
Virginia unfolded the letter. “I read very well. You are not to be molly-coddled. Azureford says so, and I concur.”
Theo held out his hand. “Give me the letter.”
Swinton swept between them and plucked the paper from Virginia’s hand before she could relinquish it to Theo. “You shall not toss my master’s correspondence into the fire.”
