‘So here you are!’ he said, staring woodenly at the young woman who’d deserted his brother at the altar, which had caused a furore of pain and scandal. He had watched Laurence closely in the weeks following that day. He brooded and worked and the only activity he enjoyed was riding—except that now he ruthlessly forced his mount over impossible obstacles and rode with a reckless, bruising violence that struck genuine alarm in Nathan. When he could stand it no longer, Laurence had headed for London to immerse himself in his business. ‘How very good of you to find the time to pay me a social call. Would it be too pushing of me to enquire where you are staying?’
‘I have come to town with the Fenwicks. We are staying with Mrs Fenwick’s mother, Lady Elsworthy. I—can imagine what you must be thinking,’ she began in a conciliatory manner.
Nathan interrupted sharply, ‘Oh, I don’t think you can. If you could, you’d be quite horrified at this moment. You’d be surprised at what a man can imagine,’ he said, the words punishing but without malice.
‘I fear I would not,’ she answered calmly, her reticule clutched in her fingers at her waist.
‘You have much to explain, Miss Lewis.’
‘I have already done so—to Laurence. I will not repeat myself.’
Nathan frowned and glanced at her curiously, but did not pursue the nature of her reply. ‘I fail to understand why you wish to see me. Have you any idea of the scandal your desertion caused—in Yorkshire and here in London? I dare say all of London will be eager to hear what you have to say for yourself.’
‘I am not going to say anything. I have not come here to pacify the gossips. I have no reason to.’
‘Then I must ask you to stay away from Laurence. Don’t shame him more than you already have! I congratulate you, Miss Lewis. You have managed to reduce a great man to a laughingstock in the eyes of the world.’
Victoria’s chin came up in defiance. His judgemental attitude struck sparks of rebellion in her. ‘I suppose I could make amends if it would make you feel better. I could put an announcement in the papers telling the world that he jilted me,’ she said with quiet sarcasm.
‘That is encouraging at least,’ he uttered, equally sarcastic, ‘but I know that Laurence would not want to buy back his pride at the cost of your own. You might offer to do it, however. That would help convince him you are truly repentant.’
Victoria’s eyes darkened. ‘Repentant? Oh, no, I don’t think so. I, too, was wronged that day.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘About you, Mr Rockford—or perhaps I may call you Nathan since I believe you are my brother—my half-brother, that is.’
Nathan stared at her, momentarily stunned. Ever since he had found out he had a sister some years ago, the very sound of her name had been anathema to him. But now he had met her, he didn’t know what to think any more, how to react to her. He usually concealed the pain and the hurt done to him by all those who had colluded in the shameful events of his birth in anger. ‘You know?’
‘Yes. I know we share the same mother. I didn’t have to come here, but I wanted to see you.’
Nathan’s face was rigid, as though he had determined upon a path of self-control that threatened to break at any moment. ‘I have nothing to say to you,’ he said, his voice hoarse as his emotions threatened to get the better of him. ‘I don’t want to get into this—not now. I think you should leave.’
His back was straight and Victoria recognised the stance, for it was one her mother had taken when something or someone disagreed with her. Stubborn, her father had always said she was, stubborn. ‘Don’t you want to know about our mother?’
Swallowing his hurt, he averted his eyes. ‘Why should I? She cut me out of her life when she gave me away. What kind of person could do that but a heartless, unfeeling woman.’
Victoria refused to be drawn into an argument with him, but despite the hurt she herself had suffered all her life, she felt she had to defend her mother. ‘She didn’t give you away. And she wasn’t heartless. She was good and kind, loyal and loving.’
Nathan’s lips twisted bitterly, and when he looked at her again Victoria saw all the pain and hurt that was in her own heart mirrored in his eyes. ‘Was she? Well, I’ll never know, will I?’
For a brief moment Victoria thought she heard a note of regret in his voice and saw it in his eyes, but it was quickly gone. ‘No,’ she said quietly, with empathy and compassion. ‘You won’t. She left you with your father. I don’t know the facts myself, but I imagine she didn’t have a choice.’
‘Forgive me if I find that a little hard to believe,’ he said, his voice hardening.
‘What kind of life do you think she could give you—an unmarried mother! How did you find out?’
‘What? That I am a bastard? My father thought I should be told before someone else did it for him. And you? How did you find out about me?’
‘Your sister-in-law took great delight in informing me about that moments before I was due to leave for the church—and several other matters she couldn’t wait to divulge. She certainly has a penchant for twisting the knife. From the very beginning she made it plain my presence at the Hall was unwelcome.’
‘Clara has never been one to mince her words. She was right. The manner in which you ingratiated yourself into our lives was bad enough, but to agree to marry my brother was beyond speaking about.’
‘Why? Because the home from which I come cannot be described as one of genteel domesticity?’
‘I imagine it was far from it. You have much to learn.’
‘And you would know that, would you? You don’t know anything about me.’
‘And you know even less about me.’
Victoria put up her chin and managed to say with great dignity, ‘No, I don’t. I don’t know who taught you your manners, but they should have told you that it’s an unpleasant and alienating thing to do to speak like that. It doesn’t matter how you choose to look at it, I am your sister—you are my brother. I had hoped we could at least acknowledge each other. Perhaps this isn’t the right moment to tell you about our mother—I imagine it’s still very painful for you—but if you feel like speaking to me you can find me at Lady Elsworthy’s house. Otherwise,’ she said, shoving her hands into her gloves and turning away, indicating that the meeting was over, ‘you can climb back into your self-pitying little shell and stay there.’
Nathan was looking at her in outrage. ‘How dare you?’
‘Oh, I do dare,’ she replied calmly. ‘I dare do a lot of things I wouldn’t have dreamed of doing before Miss Ellingham’s visit. How is Laurence?’ she asked, pausing and looking back at him.
‘Why this sudden interest in my brother’s well-being? Do you honestly care?’
‘If you must know, I do care. Very much.’
‘Then try telling him that—in fact, you can do it now—if you can get him to listen to what you have to say.’
Victoria swung her head to the door and saw a tall man just coming in. An uncontrollable tremor of dread shot through her and she lowered her head. She could have sworn Laurence Rockford stiffened with shock. His head jerked towards her as if trying to see past the rim of her bonnet, but she was absolutely besieged with cowardice and kept her head down.
Nathan glanced at Laurence. ‘I suppose I should inform my brother that you are here.’
‘Your brother,’ said a biting voice from near at hand, ‘is aware of that.’
Hearing the scathing tones, a wave of shock and tension seemed to scream through Victoria’s veins. She raised her head and looked directly at him, and her dreams of seeing him again collapsed the instant she saw his face—it was as hard and forbidding as a granite sculpture. His eyes were dark with hostility and a kind of savage rage she would never have thought him capable of. She saw his entire body stiffen, saw his gaze snap to
her face, his blue eyes turning an icy, paler blue.
Until then Victoria had thought she remembered exactly what he looked like, but she hadn’t. His bottle-green jacket clung to shoulders that were broader and more muscular than she remembered. His face was one of arrogant handsomeness and she noticed the cynicism in those deep-blue eyes and the ruthless set of his jaw. Everything about him exuded brute strength, power and an unshakeable confidence, and that in turn made her feel even more helpless as she searched his features for some sign of softness in this aloof, forbidding stranger. He was still every bit as handsome—the perfect gentleman. But she didn’t want to admit it. She didn’t want to feel anything for him—that part of her life was over. He hadn’t replied to her letter and that fact was still painful for her.
Her mind ranged through the evocative memories left over from the days they had spent together in Yorkshire. Though sorely lacking experience in the realm of desire, instinct assured her the wanton yearnings gnawing at the pit of her being were nothing less than cravings that Laurence had elicited with his lustful courtship. The fact that those feelings were just as potent today completely frustrated her efforts to thrust him from her mind.
Neither of them was aware of the moment when Nathan turned from them and mumbled, ‘If you will excuse me. I have things to do.’ He headed for the stairs, his eyes troubled with bewildering emotions of his own. His meeting with Victoria Lewis had affected him in ways that surprised him, ways he had not thought possible, and for the first time in his life he began to acknowledge the fact that he had a sister.
Shaking beneath the blast of Laurence’s gaze, Victoria’s hands tightened on her reticule. She tried to think how to begin and, because she was so overwhelmed with emotions and explanations, said the first thing that came into her head.
‘Are you well, Laurence?’
She saw his shoulders stiffen at the sound of her voice and could almost feel the effort he was exerting to keep his rage under control. ‘As you see, I have survived.’
In silent, helpless protest Victoria shook her head and started slowly across the floor, dimly aware that this was worse, much worse than anything she had done in her life.
‘If you are wise,’ he warned in a soft, blood-chilling voice as he loomed over her, ‘you will not come any closer. You will avoid me very carefully while you are in London. And when you leave, you will only communicate with me through Mrs Fenwick.’
She stopped cold, her mind registering the threat in his voice, refusing to believe it, her gaze searching his granite features. She felt sick. What she was being blamed for wasn’t even her fault. If Laurence had been honest with her, none of this would have happened. But it had happened. She had shamed and humiliated him, and now he wanted nothing more to do with her.
‘Laurence,’ she began, looking at him in mute appeal, then lowering her gaze when her beseeching look got nothing from him but a blast of contempt from his eyes. ‘I realise,’ she began again, her voice trembling with emotion while she tried to think how to begin to diffuse his wrath, ‘that you must despise me for what I’ve done.’
‘Correct. Have you come here to apologise? Although you must possess the instincts of a bloodhound to track me here.’
‘I had no idea you would be here—I came to the hotel on another matter. But what am I to apologise for?’ she asked with infuriating calm.
Laurence cocked a mocking brow. ‘You want me to spell it out?’
‘If you are expecting me to apologise for not turning up at the church, then I will not. Why did you not reply to my letter?’ she continued bravely. ‘I—hoped you would at least acknowledge it—that you would—’
‘I couldn’t care less about the letter or what was in it,’ he interrupted in a murderous voice.
For a moment she stared at him in appalled silence, then she said through a constriction in her throat, ‘You didn’t read it, did you?’ Victoria felt destroyed. Her mind couldn’t seem to absorb it. All these weeks she had been waiting for him to respond, hoping he would understand and comprehend the pain his deception had inflicted on her, and all the time he hadn’t even bothered to read it. ‘You might at least have had the decency to do that. I tried to explain—’
‘And why would you want to do that, when you couldn’t even be bothered to turn up for your own wedding? What was it you told your maid to tell me—that you couldn’t go through with it—that it was a mistake! Well, you were right—it was. I don’t want to hear your explanations. As far as I’m concerned it was over the minute you decided you couldn’t stand beside me in that church and vow to love me unto death.’
Nameless fright quaked down Victoria’s spine at his tone. ‘You really should have read it, Laurence. You should have read my letter.’
His eyes glittered down at her from a face that was white with rage. ‘No, I damn well shouldn’t. When I left that church I wanted nothing more to do with you. I will stand by the promise I made to your mother and see that you are taken care of financially—but I do not want you in my house. If you think I’m so desperate for you that I’ll come crawling back, you’re mistaken.’
Her eyes dark with pain and disillusionment, Victoria began to quake in genuine terror, because he meant that—she could see that he did. At that moment she would have said or done anything to reach him. She could not believe or comprehend that the passionate man who had loved and teased her could turn his back on her without listening to reason, without even giving her a chance to explain.
Laurence stared at her in insolent silence, unable to believe this alluring, impulsive girl he would have married had become this coolly aloof, self-possessed young woman. Now she was out of mourning and attired in a long, high-waisted lavender pelisse and fetching purple bonnet, Victoria Lewis was still strikingly beautiful, but she’d changed so much that—except for the eyes—he scarcely recognised her. One thing hadn’t changed—she was still the woman who had rejected him.
‘As far as I’m concerned you are out of my life. It is over. Come near me one more time and I will make the devil look like a saint,’ he gritted viciously. He stepped back from her as if he couldn’t bear to be near her and, turning on his heel, strode toward the stairs.
After a few moments in which she tried to pull herself together, angry, bewildered and guilty, Victoria started slowly toward the door on legs that felt wooden. There was no sign of him as she climbed into Lady Elsworthy’s waiting carriage. So Laurence wanted nothing more to do with her, she thought as the driver urged the horses on.
What was the matter with her letting him turn his back on her like this! It wasn’t the time to be frightened and intimidated, but she was. With a shiver of terror she remembered the raging fury in his expression, the wrath in every carefully enunciated word he’d said to her. But most of all she remembered the threat—Come near me one more time and I will make the devil seem like a saint! In that moment he’d looked enraged enough to do it.
If he really loved her, he would not have said that. His reaction to what she had done to him was because his pride had taken a battering and not for one moment had he stopped to consider why she had done it. It was one sided, all about him. She was in the wrong. She bit her lip desperately, wanting to go to him and explain, to make him listen to her, but he would not. He had nothing but contempt for her now. But then she remembered the pain of the events that had sparked this whole sorry thing off and her courage returned. She lifted her head. Laurence had been hurt, but so had she.
All these thoughts marched through Victoria’s tormented mind as the carriage sped on. As she went over the scene she wanted to remember it every moment of her life so that she would never, ever, soften in her thoughts of him. She welcomed the icy numbness that was sweeping away her tender feelings for him. The sooner she found employment and he was out of her life the better it would be—or would it?
* * *
As L
aurence made his way to Nathan’s suite of rooms, he wondered what Victoria had been doing at the hotel. Mrs Fenwick had notified him that they would be coming to London and he’d raised no objections to that. Victoria could do as she very well pleased as long as she kept out of his way. But he was curious as to her presence at the Pulteney. Maybe she’d come to see Diana—but then why would she, knowing she would encounter Nathan’s wrath?
In furious disgust Laurence raked his hand through his hair. As much as he wanted Victoria Lewis out of his sight and out of his life, he was unable to get her out of his head.
* * *
There was great excitement when Victoria received a letter from Mr and Mrs Levinson informing her that she had been successful in her application and they were pleased to offer her the position as governess to their daughters. They were to leave for New York in two weeks.
Amelia was happy for her, but not sure she was doing the right thing. America was such a long way away.
‘I know,’ Victoria said, trying hard to hide her apprehension. She realised she was about to change her future for ever, a future without Laurence. ‘But that’s what I want. After everything that’s happened, it will be for the best.’
* * *
On the day of the Coronation, Lord and Lady Pendleton were to give a celebratory ball. They lived on the other side of the river at Pendleton House in Richmond. Lady Elsworthy and Lady Pendleton had been close friends since they were girls. Because of the distance between their homes, Lady Elsworthy and her family had been invited to stay the night.
It was to be their first big society event since coming to London and Amelia was so rapt with excitement over her first society ball she couldn’t sit still.
‘The Pendleton ball, Victoria!’ she stressed, as if trying to inspire enthusiasm in her friend. ‘Invitations to their parties are as coveted as jewels. You have to go. There’s no point arguing about it, because Grandmama has already set wheels in motion and she absolutely refuses to be gainsaid.’
The Master of Stonegrave Hall Page 18
