‘I don’t think I can face it, Amelia. I seem to be on everyone’s blacklist.’
Amelia sighed when she saw her friend’s crestfallen face. ‘You won’t be alone, Victoria. We’ll all stand by you and support you. Besides, the ball will be a complete crush, which I am sure will be to our advantage, and no one will dare give you the cut directly in front of Grandmama.’
Victoria would prefer not to go, but Mrs Fenwick wouldn’t hear of it. It certainly didn’t elevate Victoria’s mood knowing Lord Rockford and his family had also been invited. But then, she would have to face Laurence to tell him she had acquired a position as a governess at some time. After the bitterness of their last encounter, she had no doubt he would be happy to see the back of her. Knowing he would be paying for it, she refused to be fitted for a new gown. Amelia gave her one of hers, but not as slender as Victoria, it had to be altered.
Before that, the family travelled to Westminster to see the grand Coronation procession. The whole of London was caught up in the celebrations. Following the ceremony in Westminster Abbey, the procession—King George wearing his crown and Coronation robes, peers of the realm and foreign dignitaries, the bishops in their capes of gold and heralds with their gorgeous many-coloured vestments—wended its way for the magnificent banquet at Westminster Hall on a raised and canopied processional way. It was a scene of grandeur, a pageant of colour. There was great excitement. People threw their caps in the air and there were shouts of “God Save the King and God bless the King!” The splendid Coronation was a new experience for the vast majority of his subjects, many not having seen the like since the Coronation of George III sixty years before. Crowds lined the streets to watch the parade pass. Soldiers both on foot and mounted lined the route.
Victoria was awestruck by the whole spectacle and felt privileged and proud to have witnessed it. It was a once-in-a-lifetime event and she would never see the like again.
Chapter Nine
By the time they got back to the house, it was time to get ready for the evening’s entertainment. The two shiny black travelling chaises set off for Richmond. Ablaze with lights, Pendleton House, a stately Georgian mansion set in several acres of parkland, was extravagantly beautiful. A long line of lamplit carriages stretched round the curved drive, dropping their resplendent passengers at the front of the house. Footmen carrying torches met each vehicle and escorted the guests inside. Lord and Lady Pendleton welcomed them warmly.
Victoria and Amelia proceeded up the carpeted staircase. Exotic blooms on marble pedestals adorned the balcony. Victoria paused to gaze down on the scene in the brilliant ballroom with reluctant pleasure. Hundreds of glittering candles lit the soaring space while delightful music lightened the drone of conversation. Her first London ball, she thought, and if she was successful in obtaining the position of governess, it would be her last.
A familiar couple swirling around the floor caught her eye. It was Nathan and Diana. Her heart ached on seeing her handsome brother. If only things were different between them, she thought sadly, how much different her life would be. Wearing a gown of rose-pink silk, with soft ringlets that fell to either side of her face and a clutch of dark pink rosebuds in the chignon on top, Diana really did look lovely—little wonder Nathan couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Looking up, Diana caught her eye and smiled in recognition. It wasn’t long before she found her way to the room that had been allotted to Victoria.
‘I can’t tell you how much I have missed you,’ Diana said, hugging her close. ‘I’m so sorry about what happened. You must have had good reason not to appear for your wedding.’
Victoria gave a tight, evasive shrug. ‘I did. I saw your husband at the hotel last week, Diana. Did he tell you?’
‘Yes, and for what it’s worth, he’s sorry he was so angry. Of late he’s been doing a lot of soul searching. Your break-up with Laurence has affected him in a way I would not have believed possible. He can also see the effect your break-up from Laurence is having on him. Laurence looks more haggard and grim each time they meet, so being apart is not doing either of you any good. I think Nathan feels it’s time to perhaps readjust his attitude toward you. Personally, I think you should have been told that you and Nathan are related from the beginning.’
‘You knew all along, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, but it was not my place to tell you. Nathan hasn’t told Laurence that you know he is your brother. He will, when he no longer finds the whole situation difficult to deal with.’
‘Half-brother,’ Victoria was quick to correct. ‘Nathan is my half-brother.’
‘Yes. But that aside, your leaving like that hit Laurence very badly.’
‘I sent him a letter explaining everything. At the time I found it hard to accept his deception. Unfortunately he—he didn’t read it.’
‘So he doesn’t know?’ Victoria shook her head. ‘Why did you agree to marry him?’
With as much dignity as she could muster, she replied evasively, ‘For the usual reasons.’
‘What are they? Money, social position?’ Diana summarised flatly. This unprovoked attack, which was so unlike Diana, was too much for Victoria to bear. Tears of indignation sprang to her eyes.
‘I am neither mercenary enough nor selfish to marry any man for those reasons, so I would be obliged if you would not accuse me of such.’
‘Then what am I to think?’ Diana sighed and gave her a sideways glance. ‘Victoria, I know it went deeper than that.’
‘I agreed to marry him because I thought he needed me—and—and I wanted him so much,’ Victoria said quietly.
‘Laurence tries to give the impression that he doesn’t need anyone. He has learned to deal with tragedy and adversity—he cannot, however, cope with a runaway bride. You can’t have known him well when he asked you to marry him, yet you still thought he needed you.’
Victoria nodded. ‘Clearly, I was fanciful to think that, but there were times when I would look at him and have this queer feeling that he was as lonely as I was. But I was wrong. Had he wanted me, he would not have deceived me.’
‘Does it matter terribly to know that you have a brother?’
‘Half-brother, and, yes, it does. What matters most is that it was kept from me. Not even my mother told me.’
‘You’re wrong about Laurence not wanting you, Victoria. He needs a woman like you. He needs you to heal wounds that are deep, to teach him how to love and be loved in return. If you knew more about him, you would understand why.’
‘Will you tell me? Unless you feel you would be betraying a trust...’
‘I wouldn’t be doing that. It’s no secret what happened. Are you aware that in the past he was engaged to be married?’
Victoria felt her stomach clench at the mention of the woman he’d been involved with and at the same time she was helpless to control her curiosity. ‘Yes—I remember there was something—some gossip. People talked, but I didn’t listen. Laurence was just a name to me then. What was she like?’
‘Beautiful—and ambitious. She was called Melissa Piggott. Melissa and her family were social climbers. Her father was a government official—Laurence seemed like a good proposition—incredibly wealthy, with good connections. She agreed to marry him for what he could give her. Unfortunately—or perhaps I should say fortunately as things have turned out because she would have made his life a misery—she met a man of higher rank, a duke, and she would no longer countenance marriage to a mere lord. She ran off with him the day she was to have married Laurence. He was devastated. And then when the duke changed his mind she begged Laurence to take her back. But she was already dead to him. It took a concentrated effort to eradicate her from his heart and mind, but he did it. Perhaps now you will understand why he reacted so badly when you failed to appear for your wedding.’
Victoria stared at her. She felt as if she were in the midst of a nig
htmare. ‘I didn’t know, truly I didn’t. I know how proud he is—and how much his pride must have been mangled when I failed to appear at the church.’
‘He wouldn’t believe you wouldn’t arrive. Even when Nathan tried telling him you had changed your mind he wouldn’t believe him.’
Victoria thought her heart would break, and that was before Diana said, ‘He kept the vicar waiting for over an hour for you to come and explain. Does that sound like a man who doesn’t love you, a man who doesn’t want you?’ She paused, watching Victoria’s expressive face—tentative, fragile. ‘I’m afraid when you didn’t come he hardened his heart against you.’
Victoria’s eyes glazed with tears. She felt devastated at what she had put him through, what she had lost. In his own way Laurence had isolated himself from the world because it had destroyed his hopes of marriage to a woman he thought had cared for him, and because his parents—albeit unintentionally—had a preference for his younger brother.
‘I didn’t know—I never thought... Never imagined... Your sister came to see me when I was about to leave for the church. She—she said some terrible things. I was upset...angry—provoked beyond reason—but before that I confess I had had my doubts about the marriage. Your sister’s terrible revelations that day made me realise it would be a mistake to go through with it.’
‘What doubts did you have, Victoria?’
‘Laurence was a lord. I was a schoolmaster’s daughter. My mother had been a servant to his mother—which I was not comfortable with when I remembered...’ She paused, having no wish to open that particular wound. ‘Men of his class make mistresses of women like me—but they don’t marry them. His friends—society—I would never be accepted. He would be ostracised himself.’
‘Did you really believe that would matter to Laurence?’
‘It should.’
‘But you still agreed to marry him.’
‘He—Laurence can be very persuasive.’
Diana smiled, noting the embarrassed blush that mantled Victoria’s cheeks. ‘I’m sure he can, Victoria, and that you found him hard to resist. I’m sorry Clara imposed herself on you that day. I know my sister better than anyone. All her life she has been pampered, admired, cosseted and spoilt by doting parents, and if Clara didn’t get what she wanted a very noisy balloon went up. She was enchantment itself if she got her own way—if she didn’t, then demons paled beside what she became. So you see, I know what she is capable of.’
‘What can I do to set things right?’
‘The burden of that is on your shoulders, Victoria. At this moment Laurence doesn’t want to see you. He will not even allow anyone to mention your name in his presence.’
‘So he—he hates me. I cannot say that I blame him. How can I hope to put things right if he refuses to see me?’
‘He will have to be persuaded.’ Her voice became gentle. ‘Victoria, your leaving affected him very badly. I—believe he was in love with you.’
‘Please don’t say that!’ Victoria said in a suffocated voice. ‘He never told me he loved me. He never pretended to love me—never even bothered to lie to me when he asked me to marry him.’
‘Maybe he didn’t acknowledge the feeling even to himself—perhaps he still does not, but he has not been the same man since you left. You’re nothing like Melissa. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’s in love with you—though I doubt he wants to be. I don’t think he wants to love any woman.’
‘I can’t blame him. I can’t imagine how he’s survived the humiliation of being jilted twice at the altar.’
‘He’s strong. Let yourself love him, Victoria—and teach him how to love you. Someone has to save him from himself, to soften his heart and to fill up the empty spaces in his life. Most men love easily and often, but not Laurence. First he’ll have to learn to trust you. Once he can do that, he will give you the world.’
* * *
When Diana had gone, Victoria’s mind was on Laurence. Her heart filled with tenderness for the man who had given her a home when her mother had become ill, comforted her when she had died, laughed with her and teased her, and ultimately asked her to marry him. True, he was frequently moody, distant and unapproachable, but the more she contemplated the matter, the more convinced she became that Diana was right—Laurence must care for her, or he’d never have risked another marriage.
The sound of the party drifted upstairs and filtered into Victoria’s room where she sat alone. The ball was in progress, yet she had delayed joining the guests as she brooded on the moment when she would come face to face with Laurence. He was late—Diana had told her important business matters kept him.
Knowing she could not hide away in her room all night and deciding it was time to join the festivities, taking her courage in both hands, she went to the top of the stairs, the bright lights, the chatter and the music making her pause.
Telling herself to calm down and compose herself, that these society people eager for scandal must be shown a regal young lady, not a rushing silly girl tripping over her own skirts, with her head held high and her slender hand lightly skimming the ornate balustrade, she made the descent of the stairs. Her eyes followed the undulating rhythm of her gown, which flowed in shimmering, glistening waves about her long legs. Nothing of what she saw penetrated her thoughts, for her mind moved like a disembodied wraith through the quandary she faced on seeing Laurence again.
Stepping off the last step, she halted abruptly. Diverted by her appearance, every eager male and jealous female eye in sight turned to look at her, but she was oblivious to them. Laurence was there, his presence a certainty beyond proof of sight. She turned automatically to where she knew he stood, her eyes drawn to him of their own volition. In black-and-white formal attire, his waistcoat gleaming pristine white, he was so handsome he took her breath away.
* * *
Laurence knew she was looking at him. The sure knowledge of her presence to the side of him interrupted the conversation he was having with Sir John Gibson, a stout and extremely wealthy industrialist from the Midlands. Sir John, an old friend, was saying something important, but Laurence heard not a word. He turned automatically, his muscles taught by some unconscious force, meeting the gaze of the young woman at the bottom of the staircase.
She was beautiful, even more beautiful than she had looked when they had met at the Pulteney Hotel—a radiant sunburst in a city choked with darkness. She was innocence and purity, and worth far and above all the others pressing around him. He inclined his head to her in deference to her beauty, but her rejection of him still burned in his heart.
Laurence knew she was in London, but his decision to ignore her existence became harder and harder to adhere to since he had seen her at the hotel. The shock of seeing her had fortified him since that encounter, but now he no longer had the advantage of that barrier. Looking at her now, he couldn’t seem to stifle the memories of their time together at Stonegrave Hall, which paraded across his mind.
Victoria bit her lip apprehensively, her pale face reflecting her mounting tension. There was so much she wanted to say to him, so much to explain. Suddenly her face went cold and any explanations she’d decided to make flew clean out of her head. She felt her heart turn as bitter as acid, for from behind Laurence’s muscular shoulders Clara Ellingham’s eyes burned towards her. Victoria steeled herself against any display of surprise, any indication of agitation. Instead she forced herself to look nonchalantly away from them and continued on towards the dining room and Amelia as if nothing had happened.
Laurence disengaged himself from Clara and Sir John, and intercepted Victoria before she could disappear. When he stepped in front of her she feigned surprise and with false bravado said,
‘Why, Laurence. I am surprised to see you. I am sure Lady Pendleton is delighted you were able to join the festivities, even if tardily.’
‘I hav
e apologised to her for being late,’ he answered curtly. He lifted a questioning brow. ‘And you, Victoria? Are you not delighted to see me here? You look beautiful by the way. That gown suits you. Expensive.’
She raised her eyebrows and stared at him in mild amusement. ‘I believe it was, but don’t worry. You haven’t paid for it.’
‘I haven’t?’
‘No. It’s one of Amelia’s hand-me-downs. After a little alteration, as you will observe, it made a perfect fit.’
Laurence’s jaw tensed and, taking her arm he drew her into an alcove which offered more privacy. ‘Damn it, Victoria!’ The curse was sudden and sharp, startling her. ‘You have enough money at your disposal to purchase the finest gowns in London. I’ll not have you dressing in borrowed clothes like the meanest serving girl. I assure you that while you remain my charge you will dress yourself with more dignity than you seem concerned about.’
‘You can prattle on about pride and dignity all you like,’ she retorted loftily. ‘Expensive ball gowns have been luxuries I can ill afford of late. Beggarish though what I am wearing might be, it is not borrowed. It was given and it is mine to wear.’
Laurence stepped close and Victoria almost retreated from those suddenly fierce eyes. But she steeled herself and held her ground before his glare.
‘You may enjoy what luxury I can afford.’ He straightened, squaring his wide shoulders, but his eyes still held hers in bondage. ‘I suggest you put aside this ridiculous silly notion you have about the allowance I send Mrs Fenwick and accept it.’
Victoria’s eyes narrowed and Laurence could almost feel the sparks hurtling out of them. ‘I can no more ignore that than everything else you have paid for. I know that it was your money that paid for my education.’ Her smile was bitter. ‘And there I was, simpleton that I am, thinking the money was what my father left my mother. Have you any idea how humiliated I felt when I found out? How ashamed? I do not wish to be kept by you—or any other man. I want to be self-sufficient—my own mistress. Not some kept woman. I prefer it that way.’
The Master of Stonegrave Hall Page 19
