But this was no fairy tale. It was reality.
It was true that her mother had loved Lord Rockford.
This new knowledge, together with memories of the years her mother had spent as the wife of a schoolmaster, revealed a woman who had learned to endure and prevail over the greatest of obstacles. Here at last was the reason for that haunted, almost lost expression so often to be seen in her mother’s eyes, for the sad smile and the quiet resignation with which she bore her lot.
It was both strange and hurtful to think that her mother had once loved and hoped and dreamed before she had wed her father. But she didn’t wish to think about the wantonness of her mother’s actions. All she knew was that she was the one person she had trusted to love her without reserve, and she had not. And yet, despite the love she had withheld as a mother, Victoria could not fault her for anything, nor could she blame her or judge her. She did not have the right to do that.
Her father’s face came to mind and she remembered his laugh. It had been a happy, spontaneous laugh that was so contagious it made the most restrained of people smile. He had made her feel comfortable and nurtured and she had loved him dearly.
Chapter Four
Victoria walked into the luxurious dining room, taken aback by the splendour. The chandelier and the candelabra glowed, burnishing the gilding throughout the room and gleaming upon the fine silver and exquisite painted china. Her rich brown hair tumbling over her shoulders and framing her lovely face made her look like an exotic ingénue. She wore a soft, deep-rose-coloured dress with a square neckline that just managed to call attention to the tops of her firm breasts and accent her narrow waist.
Laurence would have been surprised to know how Victoria had agonised over joining him for dinner—and even more about what to wear, for this was the first time she had been invited to dine with a gentleman alone and she could visualise Miss Carver’s frown of disapproval that she had decided to do so. But with circumstances as they were, propriety seemed like a petty irrelevance.
Shyly avoiding his frankly admiring gaze, Victoria nodded graciously at the two aloof-looking footmen standing to attention near the mahogany sideboard containing platters of food, complimented the silver bowls of delicate spring flowers on the table, then slid into the chair that Lord Rockford held for her before he walked round the table to his own.
‘You look extremely lovely,’ he said, his eyes warm and appraising.
Victoria blushed. Never had she felt so self-conscious in her life. She felt a sudden quickening within, as if something came to life. Something was happening, something rather golden, and when she spoke, she could only stammer, ‘Th-thank you. The dress isn’t new, but it is the best I have.’
‘The gown becomes you, but it is not nearly as lovely as the woman wearing it,’ Laurence replied, and when she looked down as if she were truly embarrassed by his remark, he reminded himself very firmly that he had not invited her to dine with him to seduce her, and that considering the circumstances, it was an inappropriate time to evoke thoughts of a soft bed and swelling breasts to fill his hands.
In view of that he turned his thoughts to safer issues and enquired after her mother.
‘She is sleeping—very deeply. The nurse is with her, but I must not leave her for too long.’
‘No, of course not, but I am sure the nurse will send for you if you are needed.’ A flick of his eyes told the footmen to serve the wine and the meal.
Victoria declined the wine the footman would have poured her in order to keep a clear head for the night to come. Throughout the delicious courses they spoke of inconsequential matters. Afterwards, when the footmen retired, they sat across from one another by the fireside, Laurence drinking an after-dinner brandy and Victoria her coffee.
They fell silent, each preoccupied with their own thoughts and content to listen to the wind that had risen and was buffeting the great house on the high moor. Seated thus, Victoria felt a strange sense of security she had not felt in a long time.
‘Thank you for inviting me to dine with you,’ she said softly. ‘The food was delicious.’
‘I’m glad you enjoyed it. You seem more relaxed.’
‘That is how I feel—just now.’
He watched the youthful, graceful line of her neck at the back of which her hair fell, soft and shining. He saw the sensitiveness of her small hands folded in her lap and the dark sweep of her long, curling eyelashes against her flushed cheeks. ‘You have spirit and courage, Miss Lewis. I commend that. In fact, you are a complete contradiction in terms and appearance.’
‘A contradiction?’ she queried, looking slightly bewildered.
‘I already know that you are direct and intelligent—and quite lovely. I saw that when I first met you on the moor. You give me the impression of being rather delicate and extremely vulnerable, yet I believe you are both strong and determined—and more than a little obstinate. I suspect you are not always the easiest person to get along with.’
Encouraged and warmed by his words, she tilted her head to one side, a slow smile tempting her lips. ‘I have my moments,’ she told him. ‘I should hate to be predictable. And speaking of someone who is difficult, I encountered Miss Ellingham when I left you in the garden the other day.’
‘I take it your opinion of Miss Ellingham remains unchanged.’
‘I have the same opinion of her as she has for me. She—doesn’t like me.’
He grinned. ‘Miss Ellingham doesn’t like anyone she might consider a threat.’
Victoria cast him a sharp look. ‘I cannot see that I pose any threat to her.’
He lifted a dark brow and a smile quirked his lips. ‘Believe me, Miss Lewis, from where I’m sitting, I can.’
There was a soft, caressing note in his voice that had the power to make a feral cat lie down and purr. Victoria looked at him and smiled, enjoying the warmth and the intimacy of their conversation though she knew she shouldn’t.
With a mixture of languor and self-assurance, Laurence shifted to a more comfortable position, propping one well-shod foot casually atop the opposite knee and absently fingering the stem of his brandy glass as his gaze swept over her in an appraising, contemplative way. She looked relaxed and her eyes were soft, her cheeks flushed with the heat from the fire. He was touched despite himself by her youth and perhaps also by some private scruples. She had an innocence and warm femininity that touched a deep chord inside him.
His instinct detected untapped depths of passion in the alluring young woman that sent silent signals instantly recognisable to a lusty, hot-blooded male like himself. The impact of these signals brought a smouldering glow to his eyes. So much innocence excited him, made him imagine being the one to arouse the pleasures and sensations in Victoria Lewis that she could not yet have experienced.
The ugliness of what he was actually thinking hit him and it sickened him. Every time he saw her, a part of him yearned for her. What was happening to him? Was his absence from society making his mind vulnerable to his basest impulses? Why could he not see her and feel only simple friendship? After all, he had only taken her in out of duty to her mother.
Besides, she was a naïve virgin and much too young for him. Fortunately he was not so utterly lacking in morality to actually offer her an arrangement that would have robbed her of all chances of respectability. Henceforth, he would see that she was made to feel secure. He also resolved to fulfill his role as her protector from that moment forwards and to think of her only in the most impersonal terms. Besides, just two days ago her mother had made it impossible for him to consider her in any other light.
Victoria was reluctant to raise the issue that was prominent on her mind lest it spoiled the atmosphere between them, but because he seemed to be genuinely concerned and approachable, her mother’s confession could not be shelved any longer and it was important to her that it was bro
ught out into the open.
‘I—I have something I would like to speak to you about,’ she began hesitantly. ‘Indeed I find the matter highly embarrassing and I hope you will understand it is not something I say lightly. There is no need for you to protect me from the truth any longer. I know everything.’
‘Oh?’ Laurence eyed her sharply, his look suddenly uneasy. Victoria Lewis might not be of his society, but she was sharp—clever enough to work things out for herself. He tilted his head slightly, a speculative gleam in his eyes as he waited for her to continue.
‘I know your father was a handsome man with a certain charm. I also know my mother was an attractive woman before she met my father. They—I mean your father and my mother—had an affair, didn’t they?’
The defiance in her eyes as she held his gaze warned Laurence his reaction to her question would determine everything between them. Lifting his glass, he took a long drink, as if the brandy could somehow wash away the bitterness and regret he felt on having to withhold the whole truth from her.
He nodded. ‘My dear Miss Lewis, you have divined the truth exactly.’ It was no use denying it. It would also go some way to explaining to her the reason he had brought her mother to the Hall. ‘How did you find out?’
‘My mother told me herself. I’m usually very good at figuring things out for myself, but I never imagined anything like this.’ She stared at him for a moment, then lowered her lashes. ‘It did happen, didn’t it?’ she said, raising her eyes again.
‘Yes. Accept it, Victoria,’ he said, making use of her given name for the first time.
‘I shall have to. That is why your brother is against her being brought back here. I can understand that. It—it must be awkward—for both of you.’
‘Something like that. You are right. Nathan is finding it difficult to deal with. I will let him stew awhile. Perhaps it might ease his disposition. He was offhand to you when he came here. I’m sorry about that because it’s not in his nature to be rude to anyone. Quite the opposite, in fact. Nathan is the kind of man who can charm his way out of anything, especially when it comes to the fair sex. Women adore him. They can’t seem to help themselves. I have seen small girls ask him to marry them when they grow up and titled dowagers of advanced age have been seen to give him the eye. In the end he fell for and married Diana Ellingham, a girl he has known almost all his life.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me about my mother and your father?’
‘It was not my place. Besides, it is in the past. No point in dragging it up again.’
‘And your mother?’ she asked, searching his face in confusion. ‘Did—did she know?’
‘Yes.’
His expression was so perfectly open and earnest that it threw her. ‘I’m sorry. Forgive me if I appear confused, but why was my mother not dismissed? How Lady Rockford must have suffered.’
‘On the contrary. Your mother proved a trustworthy and steadfast companion to my mother in a confusing and often difficult arrangement. She had a difficult time when I was born. When the doctor told my father that another pregnancy would probably put her life in danger, that part of their marriage was over. Although she craved another child, which she achieved when Nathan was born, she accepted his liaison with your mother with good grace—in fact, it may surprise you to learn that she sanctioned it. My father was a virile man. His affair with your mother kept him from looking elsewhere.’ He smiled wryly. ‘He was not cut out to be a monk.’
‘Mrs Knowles always says restraint is good for the soul.’
‘I doubt Mrs Knowles was referring to making love, Victoria.’
‘No,’ she replied, pink-cheeked. ‘I don’t suppose she was.’ Victoria was shocked at his irreverent reply about his father. ‘But—you cannot be serious. No woman would endure such humiliation in her own home, surely.’
‘Your mother took nothing away from her. My parents loved each other in all the ways that were still possible. My mother was everything to my father and he loved her to the very depths of his soul—despite his affair. The three of them were discreet about it. Love is a strange thing, Victoria. My mother never thought my father had betrayed her. She was very fond of your mother, which was why she requested that she be taken care of should anything happen to her.’
‘Do you mind telling me your feelings on the matter? It cannot have been easy for you growing up with this knowledge.’
‘Naturally I would prefer it not to have happened, but it did and there is nothing to be done about it.’ Careful to keep his expression nonchalant, he lifted his eyebrows wryly before saying, ‘But how do you feel now you know, Victoria? Are you shocked?’
‘Yes. It is very painful for me knowing this—and sad, too—for my mother—and my father. I’m not even sure how I feel—confused, yes, shocked, yes, but beyond that I don’t know. How much do I mind? That my mother had been in love with another man—not her own kind, a gentle schoolteacher? How did it happen, how could she have done such a thing? All these things I have probed, cautiously, carefully, as if exploring the extent of a wound—and I cannot begin to find any answers. I—I think she loved your father deeply. But I will not judge her or blame her. I don’t have that right.’
Relief skimmed Laurence’s features at her smooth acceptance of her mother’s secret, even though she could not understand it.
‘Your brother is not as understanding about the affair as you are,’ she went on, ‘and I cannot say that I blame him. Little wonder he cannot bear to think of us being here. If you were so determined to abide by your mother’s wishes, perhaps you should have thought of some other way of taking care of her maid.’
‘Bringing her here is what she would have wanted.’
‘Not if it meant causing a rift between her sons.’
‘Nathan will get over it.’
‘I have to ask you who else knows about this. It cannot have gone unnoticed—not in a house with so many servants.’
‘Mrs Hughs knew what was going on—as did Jenkins. They are old retainers and both are discreet. Others who might have known have either passed on to their maker or moved on to find employment elsewhere.’
‘I see. I am glad of that—fewer people to gossip. Where are the things that were taken from the cottage?’
‘They are quite safe here at the Hall. You can see them whenever you wish. What will you do with them?’
‘There are some things I would like to keep—personal things. I suppose I must sell the rest.’ Her face dropped in sadness. ‘It will be difficult, though. Apart from the time I spent at the Academy, I have lived all my life in Ashcomb. I had a happy childhood and good memories are there. All the things I associate with my parents.’ She bent her head and her hair fell across it in a cascade of darkness. ‘What am I to do with them? Where are they to go?’
‘They can stay here until you decide.’
‘They cannot remain here for ever. Eventually there will be decisions to make. When all this is over and my mother is...’ She bit her lip, swallowing down the tears that threatened. ‘I will leave here and we need never think of each other again.’
‘I am not sure that is possible,’ he said, with the candlelight shimmering on her hair and glowing in her warm amber eyes, eyes that did not know how to deceive, eyes that could not know of cruelty. Deep inside he felt a stirring of tenderness, a protectiveness towards her that surprised and disturbed him, and he lifted his glass, drinking the liquor to cover his own bewildering emotions.
The silence was punctuated by the crackling of the logs burning on the grate. Laurence continued to watch her covertly from beneath his lashes as she stared moodily into the flames of the fire. She looked unhappy, which was not unusual in the circumstances, he supposed, but there was a droop to the corners of her mouth, like that of a despondent child, which he found heart-rending. The firelight had turned her dark-brown hair
to coppery black, glossy and tumbled, and touched her lips to a full poppy red.
Roiling with bewilderment, suddenly Victoria got to her feet and, putting his glass down, Laurence did the same.
‘Surely I cannot have rendered you speechless,’ he murmured teasingly.
‘It’s dreadfully late,’ she said. ‘I really should be getting back.’
At that moment the door opened and Jenkins entered. Laurence glanced towards him.
‘What is it?’
‘The nurse is asking for Miss Lewis, sir.’ His gaze shifted to Victoria. ‘Please come quickly. Mrs Lewis has taken a turn for the worse.’
Victoria and Laurence exchanged worried glances.
‘I’ll come at once.’
Victoria hurried to her mother’s room and her heart wrenched. Her head had sunk into the pillow, her face had gone a deeper pallor.
* * *
After an hour the doctor arrived, and he was silent as he stood by the bed and looked at the unconscious woman.
After a slight examination he took Victoria’s arm and led her from the room, and when they were in the corridor, he said, ‘She will not regain consciousness. You should be thankful of that. She is in no pain. I doubt she will last the night.’
Betty died just before dawn. Having kept vigil since the doctor had left, Victoria closed her eyes, her chest seized with the pain of her loss. Whatever it was her mother had wanted to tell her had died with her.
* * *
With the feeling of death and the oppressive weight of the house pressing in on her, draping a woollen shawl about her shoulders, Victoria walked outside for some fresh air. The filmy grey half-light before dawn rang with birdsong. The air was moist and cool. She could smell the moor and taste the salt of the sea on the languid breeze.
The Master of Stonegrave Hall Page 8
