Foolish, female pride she could not afford when her situation was so unexpectedly dire. She closed her eyes. Took a deep breath. Cleared her mind.
There had to be some way she could support herself. She’d managed the house for her father and brother since her mother died, and before that had taught Sunday school at their local church in Kent. In those days, she and Mama had talked of opening a Parish school. Victoria had volunteered to teach English as well as participate in its oversight. A housekeeper or schoolteacher at a seminary for young ladies were surely positions worthy of her consideration.
Once more she picked up the brush, forcing her hair into smoothness and pinning it in a neat knot at her nape. A transformation from hoyden to respectable, self-assured woman. She nodded at her reflection. The earl would listen to a sensible plan. He must.
Whatever the future held, she needed to leave his house as soon as possible or find her reputation in ruins.
She strode to the bell pull beside the bed and gave it a swift jerk. Rose silk hangings suspended from the canopy brushed her cheek. She fingered the exquisitely delicate fabric.
This must be where his women slept.
A shimmer of awareness blossomed deep in the pit of her stomach and her heartbeat quickened. She closed her eyes against the unaccustomed sensation, only to find his dark, enigmatic features and blazing blue eyes a vivid picture in her mind.
No man had ever invaded her thoughts this way. And she had met other men equally handsome and a great deal more charming than the Earl of Travis. Today’s events had unhinged her reason.
Michael. Her chest squeezed. Anger. Remorse. Guilt. So many painful emotions. Only last evening she had carped at him for his reckless gambling. How angry her last words to him had been. And this morning, how he had looked at her across the grass, the shame in his eyes, before he... Was that why he had done it? Rather than face her anger?
A lump rose in her throat. Her eyes burned. She was the oldest. She should have seen how desperate their case had become.
She swiped the tears away. Dwelling on the past, on what could not be changed would do nothing to help her current situation. She got up and paced around the bed. She needed money if she was to support herself. A position. Newspapers listed employment opportunities. There were several Servants’ Registries in the city she could try. She knew how one went about hiring staff. How did one set about applying for a position? She had no character reference. If only her friend Julia Garforth were in Town. She would surely help. A pang of dismay pierced Victoria’s chest. Until today, she’d felt secure in her life, comfortable if not exactly happy. bBut now, the future lay shrouded in impenetrable mist.
A sharp knock at the door halted her steps. The efficient, gray-haired, thin-faced Mrs. Pearce, the housekeeper who had brought her upstairs, marched in, followed by two footmen with Victoria’s shabby trunk hefted between them. The trunk she’d packed last night when Michael told her they would have to move immediately because the duns would be at the door the next morning looking for money he did not have. She had railed at him, called him stupid and thoughtless and hateful.
She would never have the chance to take those words back.
The liveried men deposited the trunk next to the dressing table and departed. A blonde dab of a chambermaid entered carrying a jug of hot water.
“This is Elsie.” Mrs. Pearce said, her voice as expressionless as her face. “She will serve as your maid while you are here.”
Maid? Victoria didn’t need a maid. She was not staying. She opened her mouth to protest, but Mrs. Pearce continued without pause.
“His lordship asked that, when you have refreshed yourself, you attend him in the first-floor drawing room. One of the footmen will show you where it is.”
With brisk steps, she crossed to Victoria’s trunk and opened the lid. “Now, what do you have in here to wear?” She pulled out Victoria’s four dresses. “This is everything?”
Victoria gazed numbly at the sum total of her unfashionable and frequently mended wardrobe. New clothes had taken second place to paying off Father’s debts over the past four years and recently Michael, in his turn, had spent vast sums on gambling and horses.
“This one is rather nice.” The housekeeper lifted a pale lilac gown from the pile. One of Victoria’s favorites, it complemented her eyes.
“I’ll wear the brown one,” Victoria said. The closest thing she had to black, it seemed the most suitable for mourning.
Michael. The recollection of his dreadful wound battered her senses. She shuddered and wrapped her arms around her waist, fighting the hollow ache in her chest.
The woman shook her head in distaste but placed the gown on the bed. “Elsie will put the rest of these away.” She left the room in a rustle of stiff skirts. “The earl is waiting.”
Blast the earl. Victoria let go a breath. He had to be faced. Brought to see reason. She smiled at the nervous-looking Elsie. “Perhaps you can help me with these buttons.”
Less than an hour later, Victoria left Elsie putting the rest of her clothes away and made her way downstairs fully determined that this interview with Travis would be quite different from their earlier discussion. This time she would make her points calmly, rationally and she would win the day.
A footman sprang to attention as she traversed the entrance hall. He knocked on an oak door opposite her then opened it.
Victoria stepped over the threshold with a firmness she did not feel. This room was large and well-lit with pale green walls and molding picked out in white. Sun poured through the two floor-to-ceiling bay windows, filling the space with a welcoming, warm light. The furniture was upholstered in a dark-green and cream striped upholstery that matched the curtains at the windows.
The flutters she had been determined to vanquish returned worse than ever. Why did he make her feel so dashed nervous?
With what seemed to be his perpetually bored expression, the earl rose from one of the armchairs. “Miss Yelverton, I would like you to meet my cousin, Miss Maria Allenby.”
He gestured toward a plump woman of middle years wearing a ruffled, turquoise morning gown and seated on a small sofa at right angles to the hearth. The woman smiled across the silver tea service set on an oval table. “Miss Yelverton.”
“Miss Allenby has agreed to be your companion and chaperone,” Travis said.
A chaperone? Lost for words, Victoria gazed at the moon-round, beaming face of the woman observing her with marked curiosity in her brown eyes.
Miss Allenby stretched out a pudgy, mittened hand and beckoned Victoria forward. “My dear, let me offer you my condolence.”
Grappling with the unexpected turn of events, Victoria found herself crossing the room and making her curtsey.
“You poor little thing,” Miss Allenby said, her eyes kind. “How you must be suffering. Such sad news. Your poor brother. Do sit here, beside me.” She patted the sofa, her expression awash with genuine sympathy. “Let me pour you a cup of tea.”
“Thank you,” Victoria managed to say as she sank onto the cushions. Perplexed, she shifted her gaze to the earl.
Stony-faced, he returned to his seat, lounging casually as if all of this was an everyday occurrence.
Miss Allenby touched her arm to regain her attention. “Travis tells me the plan is to find you a husband before the Season is over.” The woman beamed with obvious approval.
Victoria stiffened. “I do not wish to be married.”
Miss Allenby looked from Victoria to the earl in puzzlement. “But Travis, I thought you said—”
“His lordship is mistaken,” Victoria said before the earl could answer. At his dark frown, doubts returned. Was it possible Miss Allenby was part of a fiendish trap designed by a licentious libertine? The idea struck Victoria as gothic the moment it took shape, but how could she trust a man of his ilk to behave with honor?
He gave her a bland smile. “Do have any relatives to whom you may go, Miss Yelverton?”
Her tension e
ased with the memory of a gaunt, disapproving face. “I have an aunt, my mother’s sister, Gertrude Warburton.”
Keen interest flickered in Travis’s gaze.
“You mean the Gertrude Warburton who used to be Miss Gertrude Crowhurst?” Miss Allenby asked handing Victoria a cup and saucer.
She took it with a feeling of relief. Now they were getting somewhere. “Why yes, ma’am. Crowhurst was my mother’s maiden name. Do you know of her?”
Miss Allenby addressed the earl across the room. “It won’t do, Travis. Won’t do at all.”
Victoria frowned. “I beg your pardon, Miss Allenby, but I really do not see—”
“Oh, my dear, no need to beg my pardon. How well do you know your aunt?”
“Not well.” Victoria answered carefully sensing a purpose behind the question. “She lives in Harrogate, but our families have never been close.” Her father had despised his wife’s sister as a prosy bore.
Miss Allenby grimaced. “I suspected as much. I knew Gertrude Crowhurst at school, you know. She married a parson. I met her again last year when I visited Harrogate. The waters there are said to be very good for all manner of ailments.”
Nodding her head, Victoria lifted her cup to her lips.
Travis glowered. “Pray, coz, what has that to do with the matter at issue?”
Victoria wanted to applaud his question since Miss Allenby seemed incapable of remaining on topic.
Miss Allenby smiled serenely. “Why just that ’tis a very small world, I suppose. Your aunt spoke very ill of your father, Miss Yelverton. His losses at cards, his... Well, we shan’t dwell on that.” She tapped Victoria’s hand with her finger. “You’ll pardon my frankness, I know. Gertrude has become a veritable antidote and is not at all the sort of woman with whom a young lady would wish to end her days. Why, I doubt she would consent to see you at all if she holds true to her opinions of your father.”
Hope slipped away.
“Come now,” Travis said. Despite his casual appearance and disinterested tone, Victoria sensed a tension within him, coiled and tight. “Are you sure it is the same person? Surely a parson’s wife would aid a destitute family member?”
The callous words stung like a slap to the cheek. “Miss Allenby cannot speak for my aunt,” Victoria said.
“No, indeed,” Travis agreed.
Miss Allenby pressed her lips together. “While I am sure I am right, I will not argue. But really, Travis, you cannot put Miss Yelverton in a coach and send her to Harrogate unannounced. It is not good ton. She must write to her aunt for permission to visit.”
The earl straightened, strolled to the window and stared out.
What did he find so interesting out there? The mid-day light cast his countenance into taut planes and shadowed hollows, like the statue of a fallen angel carved from granite.
“You are right,” he said. “You shall write, Miss Yelverton. It should take no more than a fortnight to receive a reply, would you not think? Cousin, you will consent to stay until then?”
“Nothing would please me more.” Miss Allenby smiled, her brown eyes merry. “Living at someone else’s expense is always an enticing proposition.”
Swept up in the current of their decisions, Victoria cast about for rescue. Julia. “There is no need for you to go to such trouble. I will visit a friend until I hear from my aunt.”
The earl turned his head in a sharp movement, his eyes piercing. Distrustful. “What friend?”
Victoria arched an eyebrow. “My friends are not your concern, my lord.”
“Tell me the name and address of your friend and I will have my coachman take you there.”
“I prefer to take a hackney.”
He crossed to the sofa in three lithe strides and towered over her. “There is no friend.”
Quelling an urge to shrink away, she met the suspicion in his hard eyes straight on. “Do you call me a liar, my lord?”
He recoiled.
Hah! For once she had him nonplussed. She pressed home her advantage. “If you must know, my friend is Lady Julia Garforth and I can assure you—”
“Lady Ju is your friend?”
She nodded, wary of the cynical curve to his lips.
“Really, Miss Yelverton?” he said, baring his teeth in a smile that held nothing of amusement. “Lady Julia is presently on an extended visit to the Lake District with her family. As a friend of hers, you would know this.”
Victoria’s heart sank. She had not expected the Earl of Travis to know of the Garforths’ movements. She struggled to retain her calm. If she lost her temper with this infuriatingly arrogant man, she already knew she risked losing the battle entirely. “Lady Julia is expected to return to Town any day now.”
Travis fisted his hands on his hips. “Then I suggest you write yet another letter. We shall then see whether your aunt or your friend will take you in.”
His harsh words stormed her defenses. And shredded her pride. This man seemed bent on bringing the evils of her situation home in the most unpleasant manner possible. As if she needed any help to understand that with Michael gone she really was alone. Tears prickled behind her eyes and she blinked them back.
Miss Allenby handed her a handkerchief with a soft sound of sympathy. “Travis, do bite your tongue. See, now you have upset the poor dear.”
“I’m not upset.” Her voice came out husky and thick. She blew her nose. She might be poor, but she was not helpless. She would not allow herself to be so.
The earl stifled an impatient sigh, once more returned to his seat. He cast a long-suffering glance at the ceiling as if seeking divine intervention. “I beg your pardon, Miss Yelverton. What I should have said is, we will await the results of your missives and in the meantime my cousin is at your disposal.”
A niggling fear stirred in her stomach. Neither the earl nor Miss Allenby had any reason to care about Victoria’s preferences. Left to their own devices, they would pack her off, willy-nilly, to her aunt in Harrogate before she had a chance to decide her best course of action.
She rose. “You mistake the matter, my lord. I have decided to become a governess. If you will assist me in this by recommending me to some suitable family, I should be grateful. If not, then I shall endeavor to find a situation myself.”
She stared, affronted, as the earl started to laugh. A small chuckle to begin with, it became a rather loud and deep laugh. Warmth curled in her stomach at the pleasant sound. She frowned at him.
“Forgive me, Miss Yelverton,” he said, his mirth finally subsiding. “Can you imagine the face of any worthy mother, were I to recommend a lovely, young female as a governess for her children?”
Lovely. The word echoed strangely in her ears. With her outmoded gown and unfashionable hair, it seemed unlikely a hardened rake would describe her thus.
Her eyes twinkling, Miss Allenby nodded. “Travis is right, you know.”
At least she had the grace not to laugh out loud. Victoria pressed her hands together. “Surely, Miss Allenby, you could be of assistance?”
Miss Allenby’s plump face turned serious. “I suppose I could.” She glanced doubtfully at Travis, clearly seeking his opinion before making a commitment.
How infuriating. Could the woman not think for herself?
“It’s quite out of the question,” Travis said. "I will not turn you out onto the street to fend for yourself. Either you go to your aunt in Harrogate or you find a suitable husband. I don’t care which you choose, but I must assume this is what your brother would have wanted.”
He assumed wrong. Michael never gave a thought to her future or her wishes. He’d assumed, given her lack of prospects, she’d remain as his housekeeper in his bachelor domain. Until he wed.
Travis stood. “Write to your aunt, Miss Yelverton. I will frank the letter.”
Trust a man to think everything was so dashed simple.
Before she could frame another objection, the earl bowed. “If you ladies will excuse me, I have an important engagemen
t.” Like a well-fed tomcat, all sleek and self-satisfied, he strode from the room.
Miss Allenby patted her hand. “Drink your tea, my dear and then we will visit the modiste. Your brother’s funeral is tomorrow. Travis tells me Madame Claire has her instructions.”
A funeral. Because Travis had agreed to lie. An unlooked-for courtesy from a man whom she would not have expected to care. Weighed down by the thought of her brother’s funeral, Victoria raised the cup to her lips.
Simon smiled as he shrugged into his driving coat. The interview with Miss Yelverton had turned out better than he’d hoped. The spirited young lady might not hesitate to heap invective on his head when they were alone, but apparently her upbringing did not permit her to do so in decent company.
All that remained was to wait for her aunt’s reply and make sure never to be alone with the young woman whose beauty made him want things he could not have.
He never involved himself with innocent misses. He liked women who played by the rules of casual intimacy. Fortunately, dear cousin Maria, completely up to the knocker in Society’s eyes, bored him to death. He would have no need to concern himself with Miss Yelverton from this moment forward.
He collected his hat, gloves and whip then stepped outside.
As for Miss Yelverton’s faradiddle about being Lady Julia’s friend, he wasn’t green enough to be taken in by it. Never had Julia or her brother Phillip mentioned a friend named Victoria. In choosing a family well known to him, she’d picked the wrong name from the society columns. It didn’t surprise him that she would go to such lengths to avoid remaining under his roof, but what did cause him astonishment was his own altruism. He was not responsible for her brother’s death and as she had so succinctly stated, she really was none of his concern.
This need to protect her was an altogether alien sensation he was sure to regret. As he regretted so many things in his life.
Tempting Sin Page 3
