“Cordelia, if I could interrupt a moment?” Arthur’s voice to her left made her open her eyes and when she did her heart stopped. There was another man with him, the same handsome man she had seen Arthur talking to at the funeral. She could hardly blame Arthur for having an affair with this man, not even a little. Why he would bring him to meet her was beyond Cordelia’s knowledge but if this was his new game she supposed they would play it for the time being. “I’d like to introduce you to our guest.”
“Of course,” Cordelia said, standing up from her seat to join them at the door. The closer she got to her husband’s mystery man, the more handsome he got. Cordelia found herself noticing things about him that she hadn’t at the funeral. His black hair was slightly longer than her husband’s and quite a bit messier. He looked as if he’d just gotten off a horse and hadn’t bothered to tidy himself up. Once again she was struck by the beauty of his eyes. Now that she was able to look into them again, Cordelia realized that they were a shade of blue she had never encountered before. Instead of a plain blue, there was a hint of green there that rendered them almost turquoise. Yes, she could definitely see the attraction for Arthur. “Good afternoon,” she said, nodding her head at him. “It’s good to see you under better circumstances.”
“I very much agree,” the man said, and his voice sent a shiver down Cordelia’s spine. If Arthur noticed, he didn’t say anything about it, instead motioning to his wife.
“Victor, this is my wife, Lady Whittemore,” Arthur said with a smile. “Darling, this is Victor Pembroke, my new solicitor.”
“Oh,” Cordelia said, raising her eyebrows in surprise. Then he’s not one of Arthur’s lovers? “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Pembroke.” She offered her hand to him and he raised it to his lips, brushing them against the back of her hand as lightly as a summer breeze. Cordelia’s cheeks were on fire at once and she fought to control herself before he noticed.
“Pleased to meet you, Lady Whittemore. I’m sorry to have interrupted you,” Victor said, releasing her hand but not her gaze. “We should leave you to your playing.”
“That’s quite all right,” Cordelia said, a bit too quickly. Now that she knew he didn’t prefer the company of men, she wouldn’t have minded having him stay and chat a little longer.
“We have business to conduct anyhow,” Arthur said. “With Father’s passing, I took the liberty of employing a different solicitor.” He motioned to the door. “Come, Victor, let me show you to the study so we can get started reviewing those papers.”
“Of course.” With a slight inclination of his head in Cordelia’s direction, Victor followed Arthur out of the conservatory and left Cordelia looking after them longingly. She wondered if Arthur had employed this particular solicitor because he was so good-looking and found she didn’t mind. If that was the case, he certainly had good taste.
With a sigh, she sat back down at the piano and found to her surprise that the pages of the music book she had set on the stand were open to a different song than the one she’d started. She turned the pages back, unable to believe she’d really played through the entire song already. It didn’t seem that any time had passed at all. Perhaps that other book isn’t so far out of my reach.
Thinking that her mother would be proud of her, she flipped through the pages, humming the notes as she came across them. When she reached the first page of the song, she set her fingers on the keys lightly. Cordelia smiled and began to play the same song she had before, but a little faster. It was an upbeat piece and it lifted her spirits as the others had, and before she realized it she was playing even faster. It made her want to see what she could really do, so she flipped to a random page and started to play.
Cordelia was so lost in her own world that when she heard the clapping coming from the doorway, she actually jumped. She turned quickly, pressing a hand to her chest, and wasn’t surprised to feel her heart racing beneath it.
“Very nice, very nice,” Victor said, still clapping. “You play quite beautifully, Lady Whittemore.”
“Thank you,” Cordelia said, realizing she was blushing again. The lazy way the solicitor was leaning on the doorframe put her in mind of a man about to enter a bedroom and she tried to put the thought out of her mind. “I’ve just taken it up again.”
“You can’t be serious,” Victor said, pushing himself off the doorframe and into the conservatory. Still smiling, he walked toward her with an easy grace. “That’s the sort of music I’d expect to hear from a woman who had been playing for five or ten years. Are you sure you didn’t have any prior training?”
“I took lessons when I was a child,” Cordelia said, standing up. “My sister reminded me of it and I started playing again very recently. It all just seemed to come back to me at once.”
“I can’t believe it,” Victor said. “You must be more talented than I thought. It just so happens that piano music is one of my favorite things, so I consider myself something of an expert.”
“Oh, do you play too?” Cordelia smiled, excited to have something in common with this handsome man who had the ability to set her cheeks on fire.
“Not me,” he said, holding up his hands and shaking his head. “I’m more of a listener than a performer, but I would love to listen to more of your music. If you’re willing to play for me, that is.” Cordelia shook her head even though she really wanted to invite him to sit on the couch near the bookshelves and play something for him.
“I’m nowhere near good enough for a recital just yet,” she said. “Perhaps you should come back in a few weeks when I’ve had more time to practice. I’ll be happy to play something for you then.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” Victor said, arching his eyebrow at her. The same rakish smile he’d given her earlier tugged at his lips and she felt heat creeping down her neck as well. She was glad she wasn’t wearing anything with a low neckline, otherwise she would have been pink down her breasts as well. Cursing herself for blushing so easily, she managed a coquettish smile.
“Then I shall have to work extra hard to get up to snuff. I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Victor said, meeting her eyes. He held her gaze long enough that Cordelia felt as if she would get lost in the oceans beneath his lashes. “I’m easy to please.”
“There you are, Mr. Pembroke,” Mrs. Richmond said, coming through the Conservatory’s doors. “Lord Whittemore wanted me to catch you before you rode off. I believe he had one more question for you.” She turned her piercing eyes on Cordelia, looked her up and down, then turned her attention to Victor. “I didn’t expect to find you in here alone with Lady Whittemore.”
“Just admiring her prodigious musical talent,” Victor said, bowing slightly to Cordelia as he turned to go. His eyes moved over her slowly as he straightened. “Good afternoon, Lady Whittemore.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Pembroke.” She watched him go, fully aware of the withering look Mrs. Richmond was giving her as she led Victor out of the conservatory and already preparing for the lecture on propriety she was about to get once he was gone. Cordelia wasn’t looking forward to it, but it wouldn’t be the first one she’d heard. Of course, Birdie was usually the one on the receiving end but she’d had to listen to them all the same.
She sat back down and started playing again, thinking about what Victor had said. He’d supported her by buying her the piano and music books, but Arthur had never said much about her playing itself. Patricia had told her once when she brought her tea that she liked hearing her play but other than her, no one else had so much as mentioned it. Cordelia thought she might enjoy playing for other people but she wasn’t sure if they would even want to listen. The way Victor talked, though, gave her hope.
The idea hadn’t left her head by the time she went to dinner, and when she sat at the opposite end of the table from Arthur it had taken on a life of its own. While the serving maids brought around the food and wine, she tried to work up the nerve to ask h
er husband for another favor. She knew she had every right to ask it and more, but she hadn’t been brought up to ask for too much. Birdie had always been the one who said exactly what she wanted.
“Arthur,” she said, surprising herself when she heard the words spoken aloud, “I was thinking about having a party.”
“A party? So soon after Father’s death?” He looked just as surprised as she felt and she nodded. “What brought this on?”
“I was playing from the books you had sent for me from London and Mr. Pembroke commented that my playing sounded quite a bit more polished than I expected at this point. I remembered giving little recitals for my parents’ friends when I was a girl, and I thought it would be a good idea to try performing for other people.” She cut into her roast and took a bite, watching Arthur’s face as he did the same.
“That would probably be quite nice,” Arthur said thoughtfully. “Though we wouldn’t be able to have it for another week or two at least. It would be best for us to wait a bit longer than a month after Father’s passing, but if it’s a few days give or take no one should bat an eye.”
Apart from Mrs. Richmond, Cordelia thought, taking a sip of her wine. She hadn’t yet received her scolding for talking to Victor alone but she was sure it was coming. Perhaps not as pointedly as it had when she was a girl, but it was coming all the same. At least now she had the luxury of ignoring her so long as she looked like she was listening. All the lecture would really mean was that she’d have to put up with a week or so of reproachful looks from the woman who bemoaned her and her sisters’ lack of manners, and her barely-concealed reprimands.
“I don’t mind waiting a bit,” Cordelia said. “It will give me a bit more time to practice.”
“All right, then. What would you say to Saturday the eighteenth? We can have your sister and her husband, and some of my friends and associates, and you could favor us with a song or two.” Arthur smiled. “Is there anyone you would like to invite? Anyone else from your family? Perhaps some friends from town?”
“How about Mr. Pembroke? After all, it was his comment that inspired me to perform in the first place.” Cordelia hoped she sounded casual, as if she’d only just thought of it, and kept a careful eye on Arthur to see how he responded.
“That sounds like a splendid idea, darling. This house is so big, we should make it a party that’s befitting of the place. I’m sure Father would approve.” His smile was wide enough that she couldn’t see any suspicion in it and Cordelia returned it brightly with one of her own.
“Thank you, Arthur. I’m getting excited already,” she said. “And a bit nervous as well.”
“There’s no need. I’m looking forward to hearing you play,” he said, taking a sip of his wine. “If you keep practicing as much as you do, I’m certain you’ll put Mozart himself to shame.”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever be as good as all that,” Cordelia said almost absently, her mind already on Victor again. She knew full well she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from grinning like a schoolgirl, so she picked up her wine glass and put it to her lips in the hopes of hiding it. The next two weeks were simply going to drag by.
Five
The first rays of light that came through the window of Victor Pembroke’s bedroom managed to hit him directly in the face and he groaned and rolled over, not ready in the slightest to wake up. The woman beside him opened her eyes and smiled.
“Good morning,” she said, her voice still soft with sleep. Victor looked at her, trying his best to remember her name and failing. To buy himself more time to think, he sat up and yawned.
“I trust you slept well,” he finally said when he gave up trying to figure it out.
“Yes, thank you.” The woman sat up and put her hands on his shoulders from behind. Victor shrugged her off and stood up, crossing the room to get his dressing gown from the chair by the window and pulling the curtains closed. “I halfway expected you to tell me to go home last night.”
“I’m not such a bastard that I would make a lady walk home in the dark, but just enough of one not to call for a carriage.” He felt he was rather stretching the definition of ‘lady’ but it didn’t seem like the sort of thing to say. She may not have been the highest-class woman but he disliked being rude to people unless they had earned it, and spending the night with him certainly didn’t qualify as earning anything more than coolness. “That being said, I must be getting to work. I trust you’ll be able to find your way home?”
“Of course,” the woman said, pulling back the covers. She slid out of bed and picked her clothes up off the floor. While she got herself dressed, Victor gave her some privacy and went down the hall into the bathroom so as to avoid any further small talk.
His house wasn’t large by any means, but it was just the right size for a single man. The only time anyone other than Victor and his servants was there was when he brought someone home, which was getting less and less frequent. As he got older, it became more tiresome than anything else, as evidenced by his desire to get rid of the woman whose name he couldn’t remember.
Victor gave her enough time to get herself put together before he flushed his toilet and went back out into the house. The woman had gotten dressed as best she could with no one to help her and had her bag in hand. Now that he saw her in the morning light, she wasn’t as attractive as he had thought the night before.
“I’d offer you some tea before you go, but my valet hasn’t woken up yet,” Victor lied. Brian, his valet, was most likely off somewhere in Greenley buying groceries and sundries for the week and would surely have left a tea kettle on the stove so that Victor would be able to have a cup when he woke up.
“That’s quite all right,” the woman said with a smile. Feeling it was the least he could do, Victor walked her to the front door and opened it.
“Take care on your walk home,” he said, and when the woman leaned in to kiss him on the cheek he turned away. She looked more than a little disappointed but took the hint and left. Victor didn’t bother watching her go down the stairs before he shut the door and went toward the kitchen to see about the tea. If he was lucky, Brian would have also left him something for breakfast.
As he’d expected, Brian had left a tea kettle on the stove with a cozy over it. He couldn’t have been gone long, as the back burner was still warm. Victor checked inside the stove and found a plate with a cover on it, which he took out with a cloth and set on the kitchen table.
While he ate, he considered the problem of Lord Whittemore. The man wanted to divorce his wife, and urgently. The clause in the former Lord Whittemore’s will that was at issue prevented him from doing so, and he had employed Victor to help him find a way to get around it.
He had been spared the trouble of firing his previous solicitor, the man who had written and filed the old man’s will, by the simple expedient of Andrew Wilshire’s dying of a heart attack in the midst of a church service.
Wilshire had been Victor’s associate at the law office, and his death had been so sudden that he hadn’t specified what to do with the practice afterward. Ironically enough, he hadn’t left a will, so with no one else to take it over and his widow indifferent to its fate, Victor had become the sole proprietor of his own law firm at the age of thirty-one. Unfortunately, that also meant that Victor was left to sort out his former associate’s problems and mistakes as well. At the moment, the biggest problem was what to do about the Whittemore estate.
The main knot he was trying to untangle was whether or not Arthur was bound by the terms of the will. He’d seen more than one noble completely disregard their parent’s wishes once they’d passed, but the estate itself and potentially his title had never been in danger the way Arthur’s was.
Why he wanted to divorce Lady Whittemore was beyond Victor. From the moment he saw her he’d known she was something special. She was beautiful, of course, so much so that he hadn’t wanted to take his eyes off hers but more than that, she was talented. The music that flowed from her finger
s put him in mind of his childhood, when his mother had played for him and his younger sister Catherine. He wanted to get to know her better but wasn’t sure how he would go about it, especially when he was being watched in her house. Lady Whittemore wasn’t one of the women he brought home from time to time, either. She was different, and if he was going to pursue her he couldn’t do it in his usual manner. It wasn’t as if her husband would care.
In any case, he was certain that Arthur’s problem was outside his area of expertise. He would have to call in one of his many favors, but no one leapt to mind. While he was considering it, he heard the front door open. He wiped his mouth just as his valet walked through the kitchen door.
“Good morning, sir,” he said, setting a box of groceries on the counter. “Is your female guest here?”
“No,” Victor said, pushing his plate away. “I’m afraid she had a previous engagement.”
“Ah. I’m not surprised.” Brian Taylor had been his valet long enough that he didn’t have to mince words. He picked up the plate and set it in the sink, then took two envelopes out of the inside pocket of his jacket. “Some post for you. I took the liberty of picking it up while I was near the post office.”
“Thank you, Brian,” Victor said, taking them from him. One was from his sister Catherine, the other bearing his name in flowing script. There was no return address and he opened it first.
Lord Arthur Whittemore requests your company at six o’clock in the evening on the Eighteenth of April, 1908. Music will be provided, along with a piano recital by Lady Cordelia Whittemore.
Only a Rogue Knows Page 3
