Jed felt a tightening in his body as her own gaze traveled the length of him, then came back to his face with an expression of approval and something else, something he did not want to see or acknowledge. It could only bring disaster to notice the longing that darkened her eyes to smoke. When her tongue flicked out to dampen her supple mouth, he felt his own go dry.
As she came toward him, it was all Jed could do to keep himself from reacting, from holding out his arms. He forced himself to recall the decision he’d made to quell his interest in her. He reminded himself of how obstinate she was, how accustomed to ordering everything around her to suit herself. It seemed the only way to get his wildly rising desire under control.
When she continued to look at him that way, it was extremely difficult to remember that he did not want to be controlled by this beautiful, beguiling aristocrat, who appeared in this moment to be all soft and vulnerable. Jed looked away. He had to stop himself from thinking this way.
Clearing his throat with determination, he spoke coolly. “I have met your Sergeant Winter.”
Her suddenly closed gaze swept over him again. “I knew that he had arrived,” she told him, and he wondered at the slightly husky sound of her voice. When she continued, her words were like a cold wave rolling over his heated senses. “But if I hadn’t, the drastic change in your appearance would be a clear indicator.”
His lips tightened when he heard that. He scowled down at his hands which were scratched and rough from forking hay. The very sight of them was a further reminder of the differences between them. He answered brusquely. “It’s all on the surface, Victoria. The valet has not changed me into a gentleman, no matter how much the idea might appeal to you.”
She paused for a long moment, drawing his attention to her averted profile. When she spoke, he saw that she had chosen to ignore his remark. “I trust he meets with your approval.”
The witch, he swore silently. He had been a fool to think even for a moment that Victoria Thorn would be attracted to him. She was the daughter of a duke. He was the son of a drunken Irishman whose only remarkable quality had been his ability to handle horses.
Whatever had happened between them the day before, she now had it completely under control. Victoria’s interest in him was not personal. It would save him a great deal of trouble if he remembered that.
Before he could even form a suitable reply, the serving woman arrived with the first course. Jedidiah took his place across from her without another word, remaining quiet throughout the rest of the meal.
If Victoria took any notice of his reticence, she made no comment. She, too, seemed lost in her own thoughts. He would have thought her completely oblivious of his presence if it had not been for the fact that as he was reaching for his wineglass, he glanced at her for perhaps the hundredth time since sitting down, and paused.
She was watching him, and in her eyes was an expression he could not quite understand. It seemed somewhat wary and, if he was not completely crazy, sad. As on the first night he had met her, Jedidiah sensed a well-guarded vulnerability inside her.
But that made no sense whatsoever. What reason did Victoria have to be saddened because of him?
She hurriedly looked away, and only moments later excused herself, saying she had business to attend to in her father’s office. Rising politely, he stared after her straight back with a frown of self-castigation.
Victoria Thorn had not been hurt by anything he had said or done. In order for that to happen, she would have to care what he thought. And certainly she did not.
Chapter Five
Victoria Thorn rose and rubbed the back of her neck with a weary hand. She had been very busy over the past few days. There was always much work to be done in seeing to her estate, but with the trip to London coming in the next week, she was even more occupied than usual.
It did not help that her thoughts were too often centered on a certain sea captain. This was especially maddening considering the way he felt about her. The situation was only made worse by the fact that the manor folk seemed to have taken him to their bosoms gladly.
More than one of the servants had informed her of how much they enjoyed having Mr. McBride there. She’d been told how he’d helped to right an overturned wagon and guided the farmer in distributing his load more evenly so that it wouldn’t happen again. He’d shown one of the grooms how to mix a balm for the injured foreleg of her favorite stallion. He’d organized a game of what he called stickball with the estate children.
When Victoria tried to show her appreciation for his efforts on her people’s behalf, he’d only arched a lofty brow and told her he needed something to do. On every possible occasion, Jedidiah had made his disdain for her and her way of life clear. But never more so than on the night when she’d first seen him dressed in his new garments. His sarcastic assurances that he had no wish to be turned into a gentleman had hurt.
It had been doubly painful because of the way she reacted to him. She’d been struck hard by the sight of Jedidiah McBride dressed as a gentleman. He’d worn the new clothing with the same easy grace as he had his seaman’s apparel. Victoria had not known what to say when she looked up and saw him standing there in the doorway of the dining room that evening, looking so very like the noblemen he so professed to dislike, looking as if he…belonged there.
It was becoming increasingly clear to her that there was more to Jedidiah McBride than he was willing to reveal. Even the revelations about his being a successful man of business gave little help. They did not explain why he was so bitter toward the upper classes.
Irritated that she was dwelling upon the matter, Victoria told herself she should instead be devoting her time to considering just what qualities she was looking for in a husband. The man she married would have to do more than wear fashionable garments with aplomb. He must, of course, understand that her responsibilities came first. Her own personal interests must always be secondary.
He would of necessity be a man who would willingly turn his loyalty and attention to the people and things she cared about. He must be her equal in more than social position. He must be so in values.
She knew that Jedidiah McBride viewed the nobility as snobs who thought themselves better than those who labored for a living. And to a great extent he was right, but not all were that way. Her father had not been. He had taught her that with her position came an obligation to work for the good of others.
How difficult it might prove to find such a mate who would feel the same, “Victoria could not even hazard a guess. She knew only that she must do so. She looked at the open estate books on the desk with a sigh, and made to go back to her seat. But just as she did so, a shrill scream rent the air.
Jedidiah McBride was just reaching for the packet of letters that had been delivered by messenger from Westacre. He halted as a high screech pierced the peaceful morning.
Realizing that the sound was coming from somewhere at the rear of the main section of the house, Jed turned and hurried across the marble foyer to the archway at the far end. Just as he was passing the doorway to the library, Victoria emerged, her face creased with concern.
Seeing him there, she said, “It’s coming from the kitchens. I’ll show you the way.” Jed stepped aside, allowing her to take the lead down the long hallway.
The noise came again, and Jed hastened his step when he heard the pain and terror it contained. Victoria seemed to be fired by the same sense of urgency, for she, too, quickened her pace.
Soon they passed through a wide doorway that opened into a spacious and brightly lit chamber that Jed knew immediately was the main kitchen. An enormous cooking stove and oven stood directly across from them. On the other wall was an equally impressive open-faced hearth. It was in front of this fireplace that several servants had gathered.
Another shriek erupted from the center of the huddled group. A woman was sobbing somewhere in the midst of this jumble of bodies, and at the scream the sobs became louder and more hysterical. As for t
he rest of them, they were all talking at once.
“Put some butter on it.”
“No, lard, definitely lard.”
“Why was the child allowed to get so close to the pot?” This remark elicited even more hysterical sobbing.
None of them even noticed the arrival of Jed and their mistress.
Victoria left Jed’s side to hurry over to them, sidestepping just in time to avoid being hit on the head by one of the heavy iron pots that hung over the butcher-block counter in the center of the room.
Jed followed her.
“What has happened?” The lady of Briarwood spoke calmly but forcefully over the din.
A robust woman with iron-gray hair that was covered by a mobcap turned to face them. “My lady.” She nodded respectfully. “I told Millie she should not bring the child in to work with her. I told her that you had expressly forbidden children being in the kitchens. She said her mother was too sick to care for the little one today. I did need Millie’s help with the baking.”
Jed saw the worry on Victoria’s face. “Let me see what has happened,” she said, still in that controlled, even tone, despite the obvious fearfulness in her eyes. The servants moved out of her way, and Jed could now see a small child of perhaps four or five clasped in the arms of a crying woman. The child let out another shriek, and Victoria made a soft sound of sympathy, moving to take her.
The young woman, her face streaked with tears, her eyes dark with torment, looked up at her mistress. “I’m so…sorry, my lady. I had to bring her… and now look what’s happened. It’s all…my own… fault.” She clung desperately to the child, making her cry out anew, even as Victoria tried to look around her grip to see the damage.
With what Jed could see was deliberate patience, Victoria met the watery blue gaze with her own. “There is nothing to be gained by belaboring the point now, Millie. Give her to me and let us see what has to be done.” Still the woman did not loosen her grip on the little girl.
Jed knew this had gone far enough. He stepped forward. Speaking as he would to his own crew, he ordered, “Give the child to your lady.” The woman reacted without hesitation, only looking for the source of the authoritative voice when she had done what he said. As soon as she realized that she no longer held her child in her arms, she began to cry again, sobbing so hard her whole body quivered. She put her hands to her face, but they did not deaden the sound.
Jed turned to one of the footmen. “Take care of…Millie.” The lad hurried to lead the hysterical woman to the other side of the room.
Jed then moved to Victoria’s side as she examined the burn on the child’s arm. His lips thinned to a grim line as he saw the extent of the injury. The skin was peeling back from the dark red scald she bore along her left arm.
Victoria looked up at Jed, her eyes dark as charcoal. She held the little one carefully, tenderly soothing her. Her gentle touch seemed to break through some of the child’s pain and terror, for she began to quiet somewhat, burying her face in the striped lavender silk of the lady’s bodice.
More touched by this new maternal side of Victoria than he cared to admit, Jed forced himself to concentrate on what needed to be done next. Swinging around, he pointed to one of the housemaids. “Fetch a bucket of cold water. And you—” he addressed another of the footmen “—get the doctor and bring him here. Now! Someone else fetch a clean cloth.” All jumped to do as he said.
Having seen the burn, Jed knew they could not wait for the doctor to begin treating it. He wasn’t sure what was the best way to handle the situation but he could only think of the time his own ship’s cook had been burned by a vat of boiling grease. The man had been in such pain from the horrendous heat of the injury that he had immersed his hand in a tub of cold sea water to try and soothe it. To everyone’s amazement, the burn had not blistered and had seemed to heal much more quickly than any had ever heard of.
When the maid returned with the water, Jed took it and moved to kneel at Victoria’s side. She looked at him curiously as he reached for the clean cloth.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
He dipped the cloth in the bucket of cool water. “I am going to try something I’ve seen help in a situation like this.” He met her uncertain gaze with his own. For a long moment, they sat like that, and then she nodded, her expression trusting.
For some reason that he could not even begin to understand, her complete faith in him was more moving than anything in his memory. He felt that because of her belief in him he could indeed do anything. That together they could do anything. He spoke softly. “She will not like this, but you must hold her until it begins to help the pain subside.”
She nodded again. “I will.”
For the next few minutes, Jed and Victoria worked together, each of them seeming to anticipate the wishes of the other without speaking. The room had fallen into complete silence, except for the little girl’s reactions to what they were doing to her. The servants looked on in awe. Millie rejoined the group, for she now seemed to have regained some measure of composure and looked on with interest, though her expression did not lose its fearfulness.
When at last the doctor arrived, he took careful note of the procedure that was being carried out. He also saw the way the little one sighed each time the cloth was rewet in the cool water and placed back on her arm.
Only when the doctor moved to take his place did Jed back away. As he did so, he motioned to one of the more mature-looking housemaids to take the now settled child from Victoria’s arms. She looked as if she had the presence of mind to control one small child, with her direct brown eyes and self-assured expression. The maid laid the child across her comfortable lap, hushing her gently but confidently when she began to fuss, and Jed knew he had chosen well.
Victoria moved to stand beside him, her eyes unreadable as she faced him. “I… Thank you for your help.”
He was infinitely aware of the many eyes that observed them. “There is no need to thank me. Anyone would have done the same.”
She looked up at him for a long moment, then shook her head. “No, I do not think so. Not for an unknown servant’s child. I believe, Jedidiah McBride, that you do not know what a rare man you are.”
His mouth turned down as she spoke. “Then perhaps you are spending time with the wrong people, Lady Victoria. That this was a servant’s child makes no difference to me, would not to anyone who has the least amount of common decency.”
Victoria bit her lip. Again he had misunderstood her. She had meant only to compliment him, to say that few men would have cared for any strange child. She had not intended to say that it was a greater deed because the little one was the offspring of a servant.
She’d been so glad to have him there, to have him lend his strength in taking care of the situation. Victoria had not known of the method he used to soothe the burn, but something had told her Jedidiah would not use that process on a child unless he was very certain of its benefits.
For the first time in the years since her parents died, she’d felt that she had someone to help her in a time of trouble. For once, the burden of knowing what to do had not rested entirely on her shoulders.
But Jedidiah McBride always seemed prepared to look for the worst in her. Raising her head, she spoke in a voice barely above a whisper as she answered him. “I was simply trying to thank you, and meant nothing more than that. But you may, of course, think what you will.”
With that, she turned on her heel and left the room, uncaring as to what might be made of it.
Victoria sat dressed in a riding habit of royal blue as her hair was done.
Her maid, Betty, stepped back for a moment to view the effect of her handiwork. She nodded in satisfaction. “That color is most becoming on Your Ladyship,” she said as she pinned the matching bonnet atop her head. The black tulle trim that reflected the color of the braiding on the jacket front slanted across one pale cheek.
Barely glancing at her reflection in the dressing table mirro
r, Victoria muttered, “Yes, yes, but it won’t matter in the least to him.” Her mind was on the one person who had served to drive all other thoughts away. Namely one Jedidiah McBride.
“My lady?” the maid questioned in confusion. Betty’s gaze burned into Victoria’s back.
Victoria scowled as a deep flush stained her cheeks, feeling obligated to explain her odd remark in some way. “I mean there’s no one to notice…. No, that is not what I… Oh, good gracious.” The lady halted, realizing she had said far too much. Grabbing up her riding crop, Victoria left her chambers, knowing she had drawn the girl’s speculation with her uncharacteristic agitation. She was determined to expel some of the pent-up energy she felt on horseback.
In the foyer, she met the very man who so plagued her. Jedidiah McBride was handing a sealed envelope to one of the footmen. Victoria hesitated, not wishing to speak to him at this particular moment, not having done so since the scene in the kitchen yesterday. She told herself not to be ridiculous. She was a fool to allow the man to unsettle her so completely.
What he thought of her mattered not in the least.
Then, in spite of her resolve, she found herself taking a deep breath as she went on toward him. At the sound of her booted feet clicking across the marble floor, Jedidiah turned and, seeing her said, “I have heard that little Sarah is doing very well.”
“Yes,” Victoria replied. She had insisted that the little one be kept at Briarwood overnight, and had already been up to see her this morning where she lay, ensconced in one of the smaller guest rooms. She seemed to be doing very well indeed, and had shown off her white bandage with pride. The doctor had told Victoria he was sure Jedidiah’s treatment had made a great difference in how well the burn was doing. Though she was grateful, Victoria had absolutely no intention of trying to thank the intractable captain again.
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