by Joan Avery
Victoria smiled, gaining a little courage. Perhaps tonight would be less eventful that the last ball she attended. She could only hope.
…
From Upper Grosvenor Street, the magnificent entrance gave way to a large courtyard and the house itself. The house was beyond vast. Its current owner had added a Porte-Cochére, an enclosed carriage entrance. It was here Victoria found herself. Her trepidation had fled, driven away by the marvel of the mansion.
She descended the carriage and entered a house alive with activity. She was introduced and acknowledged by the duke and duchess and tried to remember what she had learned from Emily about the family.
The Duke of Westminster was a handsome man of fifty-five. His wife, Lady Constance, was younger but in ill health. She had suffered for many years from Bright’s disease and tonight sadly retired after greeting her guests. This did little to damper the spirit of the ball. While the duke had been party to William Gladstone’s resignation and Disraeli’s assumption of power as prime minister, he was well liked enough that Gladstone had rewarded his friend with the creation of the Dukedom of Westminster only six years earlier.
The duke’s wealth was in real estate. He owned a great deal of Mayfair and Belgravia, and it was whispered his ground rents brought in over two hundred and fifty thousand pounds. He had built many buildings on the family estate at Eaton Hall in Cheshire, and Grosvenor House was one of the largest private town houses in London. And it was a wonder.
Victoria was in awe. The house was said to hold the largest private collection of art in England. Nothing in New York had prepared her for such a house. The prince’s home paled in comparison.
Everywhere, there was music and laughter. It filled the large rooms and echoed out into the halls. Victoria’s jacket was taken by a maid and she made her way tentatively into the ballroom. She was prepared to have her heart rise or fall, depending on who she might encounter.
Neither happened. There were many familiar faces, some from the ball at Syon House, others from her visits with Emily. But it was to Henry and Edith she gravitated.
“You came!” Edith welcomed her warmly and embraced Victoria. “I think you will find Grosvenor House one of the most beautiful and rich in England.”
“It’s beyond beautiful,” Victoria replied honestly. “Thank you again for getting an invitation for me. I am in your debt.”
“It was our pleasure, truly.” Edith smiled warmly. “You mustn’t fear Lord Stanford will ruin your evening,” Edith added in a stage whisper. “Have you heard?”
Victoria was puzzled as well as relieved. “No. What has happened?”
Henry picked up the conversation. “It is rumored he met with some ruffians, bully boys sent by a creditor. His right arm was broken and he was left in the street only a block from his house. His screams disturbed several of his neighbors, who investigated and found him in bad condition.”
“Oh, no.” Victoria hated to see anyone hurt, but if there was anyone who might deserve it, it was Lord Stanford.
“The man is no doubt in debt. Probably owes a great deal of money, in fact. He most certainly put up the lawsuit settlement as collateral. I wouldn’t feel too badly for the man,” Henry added. “I suspect things might take a bad turn if he doesn’t come up with the money some way or another. These kind of men have been rumored to take a life as a warning to their other debtors.”
“Henry, please,” Edith reprimanded.
Victoria looked around the room, relieved. At least one of her worries was gone.
“Are you looking for anyone in particular?” Henry said with a laugh.
“No, not at all,” Victoria answered. But she was sure a blush gave her heart away.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Hugh would not attend the ball at Grosvenor House. His resolution had been sound and rational. Why then did he find himself here?
He scanned the ballroom. She was speaking with Edith. His whole body tightened. This was wrong. Unjustifiable. Yet he needed to be near her. Needed to hear her laugh and see her again.
The night at Syon House had been burned into his memory. The smell of her, the feel of her hair against his chest. The warmth of her body against his. Even now, over a week later, he could feel her suppleness and hear her heartbeat. He should have stayed away, but he couldn’t.
It had been years since he had felt this way. This was different. He was no longer a lovesick youngster. This time he wouldn’t wait for anyone’s approval.
Victoria was like no other woman he had ever known. She no more resembled Cathy than he did his own father, but the bond that had formed so quickly between them was as strong as any he had ever had for his childhood love.
He could be content just seeing her. He didn’t have to approach her. Didn’t have to cause scandal or worse. She was forbidden. And that made her all the more attractive.
“Ah, there you are.” Henry approached Hugh from behind.
“Yes, here I am. Were you not expecting me?”
“You seem in ill humor. Certainly you skip these affairs as often as not.”
“Well, I chose not to skip this affair,” Hugh said.
“You look like you’re about to bolt from the room, old man. Let me get you a drink to calm your nerves.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Hugh asked.
“Nothing, nothing.” The smile that appeared on his friend’s face did little to improve Hugh’s mood.
“What are you about, Percy?”
“I don’t have a notion what you are talking about.”
“I’m not an idiot.” Hugh took Henry Percy’s glass and enjoyed a large sip.
“A little fortification?” Henry smiled again.
“Don’t be foolish.” Hugh offered the drink back.
“It is you whom I’m afraid might do something foolish.” Percy drained the glass.
“Have you ever known me to act foolishly?” Hugh was getting irritated.
“Not in recent memory but we all can be made fools.”
“Well, I assure you that will not happen.” Hugh continued to search the room. He denied the truth of his friend’s words as he tried to appear nonchalant and above any of these silly ideas.
“Seriously, Monty, Edith and I may have been wrong in pushing the relationship. You have your reputation at stake and perhaps it is not the time to do anything foolish. Wait until after the case. Bide your time. Sometime in the future when the scandal is but a distant memory, you will have an opportunity to pursue this. But don’t pretend that what Edith and I have seen doesn’t exist. We want you to be happy. It is nothing more. No great machinations, just opportunities to get to know each other better.”
“Do you think I am losing my objectivity?” Hugh asked.
“No, of course not. I’m afraid you’re losing something even more valuable, your heart.”
He wanted to deny it, but he couldn’t.
“Come along, you must say hello to Edith before you do anything else.”
…
Hugh crossed the room to where Edith spoke with some friends. Victoria had escaped the group on the chance this very thing would happen. She needed to keep her distance. She didn’t know what to think. Had she totally embarrassed herself? He had seen her half-clothed and been nothing but a perfect gentleman. He was still a mystery to her.
She wanted to know him better and yet she dared not pursue it. He might think she was trying to influence his decision. She couldn’t have him think that, but, she admitted reluctantly to herself, she wanted him. As a lover, as a partner, as what? She couldn’t think straight. Not with this lawsuit hanging over her head. It was not the time to pursue it, she warned herself sternly.
“Miss Westwood, how pleasant it is to see you again.” The Duke of Northumberland had approached her where she was half-hidden by a large statue.
“It is all your son’s doing, I believe. The earl and his wife have gone out of the way to see that I was invited. I am indebted to them.”
“I hold him in high regard myself. He and Lady Edith have been nothing but kind to me.”
“Stanford is not a man well regarded. I find it hard to see any merit at all in him.” The older man shook his head. “I am not shocked he met with misfortune recently. He deals with some very unsavory people.” He took a sip of his drink before continuing. “It is regrettable you find yourself between him and your inheritance. I’m afraid he will stop at nothing to enrich himself.”
“He is not totally to blame in this, Your Grace. I’m afraid my own father has literally sold me off to the highest bidder.” Victoria was touched by the older man’s concern.
“Well, if he has done that, he has not done it wisely. I believe he could have found a much better match for you.”
Victoria was saddened by the fact that, true to his upbringing, the duke found nothing wrong with the sale, only the terms. She smiled, unwilling to argue about something that would soon be settled for good in a court of law.
“Surely there are men who would match you in substance and style. Come with me.”
Before she could object, he had taken her arm and was guiding her through the throng, directly to the last place she wanted to be.
“Edith, you cannot let poor Miss Westwood stand alone any longer. You must take her under your wing, and Hugh, you must save her a dance.”
The comment embarrassed Victoria. She grew warm and was sure she was a shade of red never before achieved. She did not need to be taken care of. And to presume on Hugh’s courtesy was more than awkward.
“Do not be upset, my dear. He meant the best.” Edith looked first to Victoria and then Hugh.
“I assure you I certainly do not need another suitor. I have one too many already.”
“Lord Stanford isn’t a suitor. He is a leech sucking the life out of you.” Hugh’s voice rose in frustration.
“My lord, while I thank you for your concern, I believe I can and will deal with Lord Stanford appropriately.” For the second time, she questioned the truth of this statement. “I wish no favors and no obligations.” She wanted to believe both statements true. But even as she spoke, she knew this was not the end of it.
They studied each other, and in her mind the same words repeated themselves. Now is not the time. Now is not the time.
“Ah, there you are. I’ve brought the drink you needed.” Henry offered the glass to his friend. “What have we been talking about?”
“The duke was suggesting someone should take care of Victoria,” Hugh said.
Henry raised an eyebrow. “And has he made any suggestions?”
“I’m afraid I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” Victoria said a little too stringently. And for the first time in her life, she had to fight to quash any feelings that might contradict this.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The conversation that followed was mere polite banter. Inane and inconsequential. No one spoke of Stanford again. There was much left purposely unsaid
When Henry and Edith, after exchanging a glance, chose to leave, Victoria was compelled to address a subject that had been haunting her over the past week. “I must speak with you on an urgent matter.” She touched Hugh’s jacket sleeve.
He looked over the room and, taking her arm, led her through an open door into the library. A fire had been started in the room, but none of the lamps had been lit. The flickering light gave the book-lined walls an otherworldly feel. A bit like the conservatory at Syon House, it became a place outside of reality.
He did not let go of her arm once they were in the room. He led her to a corner that was hidden from anyone in the ballroom. Even when they had reached this relative quiet spot, he did not let her go. They were only a foot away from each other. She was distracted by his touch.
Victoria sensed the danger of the moment and spoke to rectify the situation before she lost all her will. “I am concerned about my friend Emily and her husband.”
He nodded but didn’t speak and didn’t drop her arm. His hold was not tight. It would have been a caress had he moved it, but he didn’t.
“She is expecting a child. I’ve just found out.”
Still he didn’t speak, didn’t stop touching her. It was a distraction that threatened to overwhelm her.
“What can be done to stop Lord Whitney? Surely there must be something.”
Finally, he released her arm. He glanced down at the beautiful Aubusson carpet in the room and then looked back up.
“There is little to do.”
She reached out and laid her hand on his arm. “There must be something. You said yourself he could lose Emily’s fortune as he did his own. That would be a tragedy. Emily has done nothing to deserve such ruination. Neither has the child.”
When Hugh didn’t answer, she became emotional. “What is wrong with you people? You bow and curtsy and behave so correctly and yet it hides a cruelty too evil to be borne. You have no conscience when it comes to your wives and mothers.”
She hadn’t meant to lose control so fully. She was shaking and agitated beyond anything she thought possible. She was strong and could fight the injustices to herself. But Emily. Emily would be destroyed.
She turned to the fire and tried to calm herself. His touch, when it came, almost broke her heart. She wanted nothing more than to be taken in his arms and consoled and told there was an easy solution to all of this.
Instead, he remained behind her. His hands found her shoulders to steady her. He didn’t speak immediately. She could feel the warmth of his body along her back and his breath warming the base of her neck. She wanted to turn and press herself into him, but she couldn’t.
“Nothing is perfect. Things change, but often much slower than we would have them. People are hurt. Lives are changed for the worse. But you must not give up hope.”
She shook her head in denial of his words. “I feel like I am drowning. Nothing that has happened to me, to Emily, is just—even if it is legal. Can you understand that?”
“More than you know.” He moved a hand to the nape of her neck and let it settle there, slowly caressing her.
She was afraid she would melt to the floor. Dissolve in pleasure.
Neither one spoke. Neither one moved.
She would be happy just with this. His touch. His warmth. His concern.
But there was so much still between them.
“Please,” she begged.
“Please what?” His voice was raspy with passion and she was afraid she might lose resolve.
“Please don’t.”
He dropped his hand immediately and its loss echoed deep within her.
“What do you want of me, Victoria?” The question was filled with underlying nuances and loosely formed concepts.
She met his eyes. “I want you to explain to me how you can sit in judgment and rule unjustly even if it is legal. How you can do nothing as people, innocent people, are hurt by your rulings. How do you face yourself? How do you justify it?”
Even when the case was over, this would stand between them. It was impossible for her in her passion and conviction to understand or accept this.
…
Hugh strove for control. He wanted to take her into his arms and console her. He wanted to give substance to her words. To acknowledge with actions what had been only in their minds.
But he couldn’t.
He turned away. Afraid if he didn’t, he would fall prey to his own passions. Lose his way in her arms and her warmth. He could not drive from his mind the night he had held her.
He railed against the injustice of it. Not just the truth of what she said but the fact it stood between them—a barrier too serious to breach. Certainly to breach here and now.
“Justice isn’t always gained through the law. The law is a fickle thing. One time i
t awards what is right, another time it does not.”
He had taken several steps away from her. To safety. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Alive with passion for justice, of that he was sure, and perhaps a passion for him, he dared hope.
“You must understand my position. It isn’t always justice I administer. I must be true to the law and its intent.” While his words were well reasoned and quiet, it was what lay just beneath their surface that reverberated in the darkened space.
He was begging for her understanding. He couldn’t bear to have her think ill of him. To have her blame him if he ruled against her. That was an outcome he had to acknowledge was possible. To do otherwise would be to sell his soul, his integrity. He wouldn’t deserve her love if he did that. And he wanted to deserve it. Her intelligence and her passion enthralled him. Her beauty inflamed him.
There was something else that needed to be said as well. “Sometimes your stubbornness blinds you to progress even as it is occurring. You are impatient to the point of harming your own case. You can’t continue this way and expect to see a favorable outcome.”
…
“There you two are. I wondered where you had gone.” Henry stood in the open doorway. His initial exuberance quieted at the sight of the two of them.
There was a moment when no one spoke, an embarrassment of having violated and been violated.
Henry grew serious. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“No, Henry. Please. There was nothing that warrants any embarrassment on your part,” Victoria said.
She walked past Hugh, trying to hide her passion and confusion, trying to calm her heartbeat and extinguish the faint possibility of what might once have been.
The price was too high to pay. Both acknowledged this. Now it would be easier to deal with each other. There would be no more awkwardness between them. No more passion put into words.
She could do this.
She had to do this.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“What was that all about?” Henry asked his friend. They had known each other far too long for secrets.
