Lady Thorn

by Catherine Archer

  Jedidiah was not sleeping.

  There was no way on God’s green earth that he could settle down enough to rest in the presence of the misty-eyed siren seated across from him. What he had done yesterday had been a mistake—a terrible mistake.

  Somewhere during one of his many recollections of what had taken place, Jed had realized that he had not been completely honest with himself about his reaction to the story she told him about the legendary Rose and Gaston. He had been moved by the tale of her ancestors and how they had fought against opposition to make a life together. It was possible that he had somehow, unconsciously, compared them to the lady of Briarwood manor and himself. He understood that the young maid, Rose, had felt the. same sense of duty and responsibility that Victoria did, that she had needed someone to care for her as Victoria did.

  None of this had anything to do with himself and Victoria. Her ancestors might have been able to overcome their differences and find true love. That had been hundreds of years ago. Victoria was not some Saxon maid desperate to make peace with her enemy for the good of her people.

  Victoria was an aristocrat, a product of hundreds of years of privilege and wealth. No matter how yielding she’d felt in his arms, she could only, in the end, be what she was. That was not something Jed needed or wanted in his life.

  More importantly, Jed did not care for her. Even if she would have him, which he knew was impossible, he felt nothing beyond desire for her. As intense and overwhelming as it might be, it was still only that—desire.

  He was certain she felt the same. Victoria had allowed him to kiss her, but she’d been upset, and he already understood that she was lonely. To think that she would want him for more than that was sheer insanity.

  She had in fact been as horrified as he when she realized what they were doing. Her final words to him were proof of that.

  He opened his lids just enough to take a careful peek at the woman who so plagued him. He was surprised to find her asleep, her head tilted back on the plush seat. Lord, but she was beautiful—there was no denying that. Her dark hair had been pulled up into a respectable chignon beneath her bonnet, which was tied beneath her chin with a big bow of pale pink satin. The dark tresses had already begun to curl in soft ringlets about her forehead and cheeks. Her delicate lips were slightly parted—inviting.

  He wrenched his gaze away. Inviting what, he asked himself? Nothing he could give, came his angry reply.

  Again he reminded himself that he was with her for one reason only, to help her find a husband. A man of her own social position. Something Jed was not and would not wish to be.

  He was brought out of his reverie by the jarring of the carriage as it hit a rut. The motion was unexpected, and his long leg was cast into contact with hers. The pitch of another rut kept him off balance enough that he could not move to break the contact. Even through her pink-andgray-striped skirts, the touch was disturbing, for Jed knew the shape and loveliness of those long legs from having inadvertently seen them the first night he met her. A flash of intense heat raced through him and settled in his lower belly.

  Victoria was wrenched instantly from sleeping by a jolt from the carriage. She nearly gasped aloud as her eyes flew open and she realized that her leg was touching his, and that it was from that contact from which a pleasurable sensation emanated.

  Her horrified gaze found Jedidiah’s face. That devil of a man was watching her with the same mockingly distant expression with which he had viewed her since yesterday.

  A feeling of intense irritation gripped her. Oh, what she would give to see him lose that ever-present control of his. Yet she knew that was not likely to happen. Jedidiah McBride was not about to allow anyone to get close enough to him to make that possible.

  The rocking of the vehicle hindered her efforts to sit up straight. Finally, they seemed to have made their way over the worst of the ruts, and she was able to resettle herself. Leaning back, Victoria made every effort to match his indifferent expression with one of her own.

  He eyed her coolly, almost as if he were aware of her discomfort. “Excuse me.”

  “Of course,” she replied with equal civility, glad that he could in fact not know her thoughts. Then Victoria scowled as he turned to stare out the window. She would certainly be glad when they reached London and the end of this journey.

  They arrived in London on the evening of the next day. The night had been spent at an inn along the way. During that time, Jedidiah had been dedicated and courteous in seeing to her comfort. She had not been surprised to see the way the innkeeper and his staff hastened to do everything he bade them. Jedidiah’s proud stance, his air of command and, of course, the fact that he was dressed as a gentleman made them treat him as they would a peer of the realm.

  Yet, in spite of his care of her, Victoria could not help being aware of the distance he kept between them. An example that she felt she must follow, and that began to wear on her terribly. By the time they reached her London home, Victoria was exhausted from being so careful of everything she did and said. She looked upon the immense Georgian mansion in Grosvenor Square with a feeling of relief.

  Jedidiah was his own imperturbable self as they alit from the carriage. He followed her without comment as she climbed the steps and the door opened. The housekeeper, Mrs. Dunn, emerged in a flurry of black silk skirts, her cheeks flushed with pleasure at seeing her mistress.

  She dropped down in a deep curtsy. “My lady, we are so glad you have come.”

  Victoria nodded as she came to a halt before her. She wondered what Jedidiah would make of the more formal atmosphere of the London house. She squared her shoulders. Let him think what he would. She would not be ashamed of who and what she was. “I am glad to be back. I trust all is well?”

  The woman rose. “Oh, yes, my lady. All is in readiness for your stay.” She moved back to motion Victoria forward. Her gaze barely brushed Jedidiah, where he stood behind Victoria. The housekeeper’s face remained impassive.

  Victoria followed after her, wondering, with some amount of amusement, at the woman’s self-control. She was certain that her arrival with a strange man would cause Mrs. Dunn a certain amount of curiosity. The London staff could not already know the story they had told the others at Briarwood, namely that her cousin was visiting her. Both Sergeant Winter and her own maid, Betty, were following behind in another conveyance with most of the baggage.

  Thinking to get the matter over with as quickly as possible, Victoria turned to the sea captain with what she hoped was gracious warmth. “Cousin Jedidiah, this is the housekeeper, Mrs. Dunn.”

  Jedidiah nodded. “Mrs. Dunn.”

  Victoria went on. “Mrs. Dunn, my cousin Jedidiah McBride. He will be staying with us.”

  Now the housekeeper could not retain her pose of formality. “Your cousin?” It was clear that she was working very hard to keep the incredulity from her voice.

  “Yes, from America.” She kept her expression carefully neutral as she faced the other woman, but she could feel Jedidiah’s attention on her back. Drat him, she knew he was amused by her discomfort. Victoria told herself not to care what he thought, and to remember that the lie was necessary. It was the only way to keep the blackguard with her. Under no circumstances would an unchaperoned woman be allowed to reside with a man who was not even a relation. After what had already passed between herself and the man behind her, Victoria was beginning to understand why this was so. If she had not needed him to act as a protector, had not agreed to help him locate his son, she well knew, he should not be in such intimate contact with her.

  Flashing memories of Jedidiah’s lips meeting hers, his hands on her body, entered her mind and were quickly pushed aside. She would forget that those things had ever happened.

  Jed was awakened the next morning by a dainty little maid with a spill of dark hair and shy green eyes. Hurriedly she set the tray she carried on the table beside the window and opened the drapes. Without looking at him, she asked, “Will there be anything
else, my lord?”

  He still did not care for all this “my lord” business, but had come to understand that he would only confuse her if he said so. With resignation, Jed shook his head. “No, that will be everything, thank you.”

  With a swift curtsy, she departed.

  Jed looked around the room as he made his way over to the tray. The heady aroma of coffee greeted him, and he nearly smiled, knowing that Victoria had remembered to tell the servants he preferred the beverage. But he did not smile. He did not want to think about the lady in any but the most impersonal of terms.

  To do otherwise was to court disaster. As he had learned.

  He stepped into the buff trousers he had been wearing the previous day and buttoned on the clean shirt in the one case he had brought in the carriage. As he did so, Jed looked around with assessing eyes. The bedroom he had been given was nearly as large as the one at Briarwood, and was decorated in the best of taste, with heavy cherrywood furnishings and sumptuous materials of green and gold. But it did not have the homey feel of Briarwood manor. Embroidered pillows, samplers done by less-than-expert hands and various other simple touches made the enormous mansion feel a little more like a home. But, as he had observed last night and this morning, the “London house,” as Victoria called it, was not so comfortable as Briarwood.

  For some reason he could not quite define, Jed was uneasy with the realization that he thought of Briarwood as comfortable, as being homey. Anyway, he told himself, it didn’t matter what he thought; neither house was his concern, and that was just the way he wanted it.

  He was just adding sugar and cream to his coffee when there was a rap at the door. Having come to recognize the distinct signs of Winter’s presence over the last few days, Jed was not surprised that it was the gray-haired sergeant who entered at his call.

  “Ah, Mr. McBride, Doreen said you were awake. I trust you slept well.”

  “Yes,” Jed replied, though it was a lie. He’d not had a decent night’s sleep since meeting Victoria Thorn. “And yourself?”

  The squarely built soldier came into the room and stopped with his hands folded before him. “Fine, just fine. We arrived some time after you had retired, and I decided to leave the delivery of your things until this morning.”

  “That was very nice of you,” Jed told him, taking a sip of the strong, hot coffee. Just the way he liked it, just the way it was served at Briarwood. When he was aboard the Summerwind, he was fortunate to get a lukewarm cup that was half-full of grounds.

  He was almost beginning to like being looked after this way. As soon as that thought entered his mind, he pushed it away. He would not allow himself to get accustomed to being pampered.

  Winter interrupted his disturbing thoughts. “May I have the cases brought in now, sir?”

  “Oh, yes, of course,” Jed answered quickly.

  The older man turned and beckoned to someone out in the hallway. “You can bring them in now.”

  Two liveried footmen, wearing the same blue as those at Briarwood, entered with their arms laden. They set down their burdens, and the sergeant ushered them from the room.

  He turned to Jed with raised craggy brows. “Do you mind, sir?”

  “No, go right ahead.” Jed waved him on. He was now secretly glad that Victoria had insisted on sending for the manservant. Jed would not have cared to spend even one moment fussing with his new wardrobe.

  As the sergeant went about his duties, Jed marveled anew that the man was able to go about such a persnickety task with such masculinity. Even when he was hanging a pair of trousers so that the crease in the legs was razor-perfect, he managed to do so with a quiet sort of dignity.

  Not for the first time, Jed found himself wondering about the man, and why he had chosen to take up this profession. He spoke hesitantly, not wishing to intrude where he might not be welcome, especially given how little he cared for prying. “Winter?”

  The servant halted in the act of brushing imaginary flecks of dust from a coat sleeve, preparatory to placing it in the deep cherry wardrobe. “Yes, sir?”

  “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

  “No, not at all. Go right ahead, sir.” His openly surprised expression told Jed that he was genuine in what he said.

  “How did you come to work for the Thorns, for the duke?” Jed poured himself another cup of the delicious coffee.

  “My uncle Walter was the duke’s man at the time, sir. He was getting on in years, and I was injured in the shoulder fighting against Boney’s army in France. The army had pensioned me off, and I was looking for a position. You see, I was supporting my widowed sister and her sons at the time, and the pension would not really cover.” This was all said matter-of-factly and without a hint of self-pity.

  Nonetheless, Jed felt as if he should not have asked. “I’m sorry,” he said. “This is your own business. Not mine.”

  Winter shook his head, smiling. “Oh, my, no. I’m happy to talk of it. The Thorns have been very good to me and mine. When the duke died, only some months after I had completely taken on the position, Lady Victoria made sure that everything would be all right for us.” His pale blue eyes grew damp, and he made no effort to hide it. “My sister’s oldest boy was studying to be a doctor, and she made sure there was the money to send him on. He now looks after that orphanage of hers along with his practice. The other isn’t quite finished yet, but he’ll be a solicitor.” He nodded fondly. “I’m sure she has something in mind for him, as well. Likes to see them give back, if you understand what I mean.”

  Jed could only look at him for a long moment, wondering why this information made him feel so odd, so displaced, as if he did not know what was real and what wasn’t. Why should it matter to him that Victoria was so thoughtful, that she had the intelligence and good sense to expect her good deeds to be passed on to others?

  Then he drew himself up quickly, thinking that it was time he went for a ride. Victoria had informed him the night before that the stable here was amply stocked.

  He was not likely to run into the woman in question, as she had told him she would be spending the day ordering new gowns for herself. When he questioned her as to her safety, she had assured him that she would be attended at home. It seemed Mr. Worth himself was willing to make his person available to the daughter of a duke.

  As he finished dressing and made his way out of the house to the stable in back, he told himself that with her vast wealth Victoria could well afford to be generous. There was no denying that it certainly made her look better.

  Though the words did not quite ring true, even in his own mind, Jed refused to examine them any further. He did not want to see Victoria as a kind, generous and unpretentious woman. Somewhere in the back of his mind was the understanding that to do so would be to risk all he believed in.

  That he was not prepared to do.

  Victoria went down to the dining room in one of the new gowns that she had purchased from Worth’s. Only two of the ones already made had proved suitable. The rest of what she required would be made up as soon as possible. This one was a lovely confection of dark green silk and ivory lace that trimmed the sleeves and the scooped neckline. Her hair had been swept up, with only a few tendrils left loose to curl about her brow and neck. One final glance in the mirror had shown her an attractive young woman— despite, or possibly because of, the anxious excitement in her gray eyes.

  Jedidiah McBride arrived only moments behind her. He barely glanced in her direction as he took his place opposite her, in one of the striped blue silk chairs. Dinner was served immediately, and he seemed to be eating the roast partridge, cucumber soup, potatoes and various other dishes with avid concentration.

  In the face of his continued disregard, ‘Victoria barely touched her own meal, simply pushing the food around on her plate. She had not thought Jedidiah would actually compliment her on her appearance, but she had hoped, in the deepest reaches of her heart, that he might at least take notice of her. Anything would be better than this
total lack of awareness.

  As the minutes passed, Victoria realized she might just as well excuse herself and go to her room. As she moved to take her napkin from her lap, she felt the edge of the invitation in her pocket. Oh, yes, she thought. She had brought it to show Jedidiah. A messenger had delivered the envelope in the late afternoon. In it, her presence was requested at Lady Worthington’s ball the very next evening.

  Victoria had been a bit nervous about accepting, knowing how very seriously the lady took herself and her social position. In the end, that was what had made her decide to say yes. If Lady Worthington gave Jedidiah the stamp of her approval, it was not very likely that anyone else would even think to question him.

  She hoped Jedidiah would agree to go to such a large event so soon. Considering the way he had been treating her, she also found herself hoping he could bring himself to pretend they were getting along. Any hint that they were on the outs would cause speculation they could not afford.

  Reaching into her pocket, she removed the missive. “Cousin Jedidiah,” she said, her voice sounding surprisingly hoarse to her own ears. She cleared her throat as he looked over at her, his brows raised in question, though there was no real interest in his green eyes.

  Squaring her shoulders, she went on. “This came today. I have taken the liberty of sending our acceptance.” She held the invitation toward him.

  He simply stood there staring at her. Suddenly she’d had enough. She drew herself up. “Mr. McBride. I understand this situation is unpleasant for you. Yet I really must tell you that you cannot continue to treat me this way. I have not done anything to upset you, nor do I mean to. I am trying to get on with things, so that our association might come to a speedy end, as you so clearly desire.”

  He scowled at her darkly. “Victoria…”

  She interrupted. “No, spare me. I just want you to give me your assurance that you will try to behave as if we are not enemies when we attend this function or any other. It is absolutely necessary to do so. If you treat me as you have been, it will certainly cause comment.”