Lady Thorn

by Catherine Archer

  Her face flamed as she recalled just how eager she had been. That, too, must be forgotten.

  Rising abruptly, she went to her wardrobe. She wished to find just the appropriate costume for her coming encounter with Jedidiah McBride. Any small detail that might help her to get through the meeting with dignity must be utilized.

  No matter what happened, she must make him believe she did not feel he had taken advantage of her. It was her only sure way to keep him from leaving. For that was what she feared would happen if she didn’t do so. The man’s sense of honor was one of the things she admired about him, and it just might drive him to go away.

  Victoria told herself it would be wrong to deprive him of this hope of finding his son. She could not do so, not because of what they had done during one hapless moment.

  She refused to allow herself to contemplate any other cause for her reluctance to say goodbye.

  Jed made his way to the library with a heavy heart, knowing there was nothing he could do to rectify the damage done last night. He had awakened to find himself lying next to the lady of Briarwood, and felt a wave of selfdisgust that nearly drove him to his knees.

  He’d done no more than glance at her, her dark hair falling forward over the curve of her creamy breast, her cheeks still bearing the peach flush of his lovemaking. He could risk no more than that fleeting glance, for to do so would be to give strength to the unacceptable urge to kiss those delicately curved lips, to trace his hands over the perfect form that lay beneath the white linens.

  As he dressed, pulling his clothes on with unsteady hands, he’d repeatedly asked himself the same question: What on earth had he done? Not only in making love to Victoria, but in telling her so very much of what he’d kept hidden all these years?

  He’d gone to his own bedchamber, being careful not to wake the sleeping Victoria. He did not want to think about how she might react to knowing his secrets. Would she think this gave her some hold over him? Or would she be too overwhelmed by shame at what they had done to care about his past?

  Jed had been only slightly surprised when she sent up a note asking him to meet her in the library. Victoria would want to face this directly, as she did all things.

  He clenched his hands as he strode to the appointed meeting place. God help him, what was he going to say to her? How could he explain how sorry he was for taking what did not belong to him? By saying he had been drinking? Jed only wished he had that excuse. The fact was, he had told her the truth when he said he was not drunk.

  Oh, he’d been feeling the drinks he’d had when she first came into the sitting room. But as he talked, his head had cleared completely. At the moment when he took Victoria up those stairs, he had been intoxicated only by her beauty, her responsive kisses, the heady rose smell of her in his arms.

  Even now his body tightened at the memory. It had never occurred to him that a man’s desire for a woman could be increased by his having taken her. It had not happened to him before. Yet the experience he had shared with Victoria had left him aching to be with her again, to know those heights of passion and fulfillment.

  In frustration, he hit his palm with his fist. It was over, and could not be repeated. In all honesty, Jed understood that it would be doubly hard to keep from wanting her, touching her, now. He had to resist his desire in order to protect her.

  He also knew he must safeguard his own autonomy. Jed would give no more of himself away. He’d learned, the hard way, that any hint of weakness left a person vulnerable to hurt. Somehow she seemed to be able to get under his skin, and that made her dangerous to his peace of mind.

  Yet this only complicated the feelings churning inside him, for he was sorry for having taken Victoria’s innocence as he had. He only hoped she could forgive him. This request for his presence in the library was no doubt an indication that she had come to some conclusions of her own.

  Maybe she would even ask him to leave. Jed told himself that the wave of sadness he felt at the idea was caused by his regret at the thought of not finding his son. But inside him was the distant knowledge that he would be sorry to never see Victoria again.

  With a groan, he ran a hand through his already tousled hair. There would be no more thoughts like that one, no matter what happened.

  Victoria replied immediately to his knock. He had expected to find her at the desk. She was not, having taken a seat in one of the two burgundy-colored leather chairs before the empty hearth. A tray laden with tea and coffee rested on the round table between them.

  It was a somber room, the walnut paneling and dark shades of red and burgundy with which it had been decorated cheered little by the light from the windows. It was a formal setting, one that did not lend itself to intimate conversation. If her choice of venue was any indication, Victoria was indeed regretting what they had done.

  Jed braced himself, willing to face whatever recriminations she might make. It wasn’t as if he didn’t deserve them.

  Victoria looked up as he entered, and for a moment Jed thought he saw a hint of nervousness in her gray gaze. The impression was short-lived, and he knew he must have been mistaken, as she met his gaze directly.

  With regal poise, she smiled politely. “Cousin Jedidiah. Thank you for coming.” She motioned toward the tray. “Would you care for coffee?”

  He stared at her for a long moment. My, but she was a cool one, he thought. This reception was not what he’d expected, and he was not sure what to make of it. Realizing that the only way to find out what she was thinking was to wait for her to tell him, Jed nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

  He took the other leather chair as she poured.

  Victoria handed him the delicate china cup with steady hands and turned to sip her own tea. Jed sat back, his gaze running over her. Even now, it was hard to look at her delicate white hands without thinking of the way they had felt on his naked flesh. He was infinitely grateful for the plain high-necked gown of dark gray she wore. Only the narrow lace ruffle that rested just below her delicate jawline added a trace of femininity.

  Yet, as his wayward gaze slid over her, he realized that even in this garb she was tantalizing beyond belief. Its severe cut did little to disguise the sweetly rounded curves of breasts and hips. He turned his attention to the cup in his hands, feeling helpless in the face of his attraction to her, and knowing it was wrong.

  In spite of Victoria’s apparent composure, he felt he had to say something about what had happened between them. His awareness of his own responsibility in the matter forced him to make some apology. He began as delicately as he could. “Victoria, I feel I know why you have asked me to come here. I want to say how sorry I am for what—”

  She interrupted him with a raised hand. “Please, do not go on. I know what you are attempting to say and I want you to know there is no need for it. What occurred was a mistake, as much my doing as yours, and we must simply put it behind us. The only thing which has changed is that I now have more sympathy for your position. After what you revealed to me last night, I can understand that you have some cause to distrust the upper classes.”

  Even though his jaw clenched at her words, Jed could not view her proudly held head, comprehend the courage and integrity it took for her to take the blame for what they had done, without experiencing an overwhelming sense of admiration. Victoria Thorn was quite a lady—quite a woman.

  He pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on what must be said to make her see that he would not accept any invasion of his privacy. “You can keep your sympathy, Cousin Victoria. I don’t need it. And I’ll thank you not to mention what was said last night again.”

  He watched as she stiffened, and though she raised her chin high, he could hear the hurt in her voice when she answered. “I will not mention it again, sir, of that you can be assured. I do not know what could have come over me. As you’ve made abundantly clear on every possible occasion, your life is your own concern.”

  He caught the tinge of sarcasm in her tone, and again was struck by her undau
nted strength. At the back of his mind, he could not help wishing that things could be different. What would it be like to have her for his own, this proud English beauty? Those moments in her arms had seemed more real, more powerful, than any he had ever known in his life.

  This situation was not real. He had to fight the spell of his attraction toward her, his pleasure in the things they had shared. Even if he wanted to ask her to be a part of his life—which he did not, he assured himself—Victoria would not leave all that she was behind. And he would never be accepted into her world.

  With a great force of will, Jed turned away from the lovely sight of her. He must forget her and find his son. Somehow he understood that he must do so before it was too late.

  So thinking, he rose abruptly, all these thoughts having passed through his mind in the matter of a heartbeat. Carefully he put his untouched coffee on the tray. “I…I thank you for that.” He looked into her smoky gray eyes then, his expression earnest. “There is something else I must say. You have attempted to ease the burden of my guilt by taking it upon yourself.”

  Victoria shook her dark head. “No, I but admit to my own part in what happened. Knowing you, I understood that you would place all the blame upon yourself. There is no need for that. We are both adults, and you forced me to do nothing against my will.”

  “But you didn’t really understand what you were getting into. I did.”

  She raised her chin. “I will not allow you to think so poorly of me, Mr. McBride. I insist that you put aside this line of thought. Suffice it to say that both of us acted out of some unexpected and unwanted lack of judgment.”

  She looked away from him, and Jed was glad, because he would not have wanted her to see the surprisingly adverse reaction he had to her next words. “I require your services in protecting me until I find a husband. You hope to find your lost child by taking advantage of my easy entry into society. Those things are what we must keep sight of.” She turned back to him, those lovely gray eyes remote. “You will be leaving England once our objectives have been accomplished. What occurred was completely unsuitable, and will not happen again.”

  In spite of the fact that her coolness left him feeling unexplainably empty, Jed was moved by her courage. He knew how hard this must be for her, knew that she had been a virgin when he took her last night. Even if she was telling him she wished they had never made love, that they should not have crossed the boundaries that separated them, she was doing it directly.

  He did not want her to know that he was awed by her strength of character, drawn by all the special qualities that made her Victoria and no other. She’d been very clear in letting him know that they came from separate worlds. Yet he could not keep himself from speaking. “You are an amazing woman, Victoria Thorn.”

  With that, he turned and left the room, knowing he could not say more without giving away more than he dared.

  Victoria became aware of the fact that she was again searching the ballroom for a sign of Jedidiah McBride with a feeling of irritation. For the third time, she turned her attention back to what her partner said.

  Since their conversation in the library five mornings past, the sea captain had been judiciously polite. Whatever that last unexpected remark he had made before leaving the library might have meant, she had no idea.

  Unfortunately for her, that night had proved much more difficult to forget than even she had feared. Not an hour went by that she did not relive every moment, every touch, every word, that had passed between them. The more time went by, the more certain Victoria became that no man would ever be able to replace the American. She could not imagine doing such things with any of the men she met, not even the most attractive or attentive or intelligent of them.

  The thought was, in fact, abhorrent. Which did not soothe or reassure her in the least.

  Once more her unconsciously yearning gaze swept the crowded chamber. She was sure he was in fact pursuing his quest to find his son even now.

  Experiencing a wave of sadness, she closed her eyes. It was ridiculous of her to care. He certainly would not welcome her concern. Even as she allowed herself to be twirled around the room, her heart remained heavy.

  Thus, with more enthusiasm than she might otherwise have shown, she smiled at Ian when he asked her to dance with him a short time later. She was surprised to see him at all on this particular evening, as the hour was growing quite late and he had been conspicuously absent until now.

  Ian answered her question without being asked. As he led her out onto the floor, he eyed her with obvious appreciation, offering, “I was not going to come here tonight, but I hoped you would be in attendance. I am inordinately pleased to see that you are.”

  Victoria could smell the alcohol on his breath, and she wondered if his ebullience might have something to do with his having been drinking. She felt a deep blush steal over her face and neck as she recalled how drinking had affected Jedidiah. It had caused him to say things that created a false sense of intimacy between them. She looked up at Ian. “Lord Sinclair, you have no need to say such things to me.”

  His dark gaze locked on hers. “On the contrary, I have every need.”

  She studied him closely, sensing a certain shift in his attitude that she had not noted before. The deliberate focus of his considerable male charm was not lost on her. What kept her from feeling overwhelmed by it was a hint of something she might have described as melancholy in his tone. What, she wondered, could have brought about this change in the usually unperturbable man? Acting sheerly on impulse, she asked softly, “What is it, Ian?”

  He made a great show of surprise, immediately assuming the expression of detached superiority and boredom he usually wore. “What is what, my dear Lady Victoria?”

  She would not be put off. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but I feel as if we are becoming friends. Am I wrong?”

  He remained silent for a long moment, then shook his head. “You are not wrong.”

  She smiled gently. “I thought as much. That is what makes me bold enough to insist you tell me what is troubling you.”

  He grimaced, dropping that sardonic air. “The earl is after me to marry again. He has ordered me to the country to become better acquainted with the bride he has selected for me. The woman in question is a particularly disagreeable cousin. Disagreeable to myself, at any rate. She is a simpering fool who will do as instructed, fawn over me, and make babies with no complaint.” His voice took on a tone of comic irony. “I’m sure my father would be very pleased with me, for a short time, at least, if I were willing to fall in with his plans. But, alas, I am not.” He gave a laugh that was so bitter it exposed the hurt he was trying to hide. He seemed completely unaware of her presence for a moment, as his mind turned inward to something only he could see. “For the love of God, I am a man, fully twenty-eight years of age. Why can’t he just discuss it with me, see how I feel about the woman in question? Or, better yet, understand that I wish to make the choice for myself?”

  Why indeed did the elder Sinclair not allow that his son should have some say in this matter? Judging from Ian’s set expression, he would not do as his father demanded, no matter what it cost him. She wondered if Ian would be a different man were his father to stop trying to interfere in his life.

  Victoria could only wish her own parents were present to assist her in making the important decisions in her life. Yet she knew she would not welcome the kind of domination Ian’s father seemed to display. She could not restrain a selfderisive laugh. “I, too, find myself in the position of having to marry. It is not something I relish, either.”

  “At least you have the privilege of choosing for yourself, without recrimination,” he told her with raised brows. He seemed to have brushed away his melancholy, for that accustomed detached amusement had returned to his dark eyes.

  Victoria decided to take her cue from him, for she felt she had pried far enough. “A dubious privilege,” she answered lightly, “which is more torment. It wo
uld be better that I had a family to make a reasonable choice for me. I had not thought it would be so difficult to find someone who will care for my lands and the responsibilities of my position as I do.”

  “What of love?” he asked, his hot gaze moving over her flirtatiously. She could not help thinking, in a disinterested way, that a lesser maid would surely have been rendered faint by that look.

  Victoria pointedly ignored his deliberate perusal as an image of Jedidiah’s face came to her mind. Quickly she pushed it aside, yet she could not stop her heart from giving one painful throb. Love was not something she could expect to find. She glanced up at Ian. “I do not expect that particular emotion, nor do I even desire it. Respect and a willingness to care for my lands and people as I do are of greater consequence to me. The man I marry will need to have no ties that are more important to him.”

  His gaze caught and held hers for a long, thoughtful moment. Then he smiled. “Perhaps I am your man?”

  Her eyes widened in amazement, and with some amusement. For surely he could not be serious. “Why, Lord Sinclair, are you saying what I think you are?”

  His expression sobered. “Yes, Lady Victoria, I believe I am.” His own voice sounded somewhat incredulous. Before Victoria knew what was happening, he had waltzed her onto the terrace, through the open doors. With practiced elegance, he brought them to a halt near a vine-covered trellis that would partially block them from the view of any others who might come out to partake of the fresh late-May night.

  Victoria was shocked, not knowing what to make of all this. He could not be serious.

  But as his earnest eyes searched her face, she began to wonder. He took her hand in his. “Lady Victoria Thorn, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  Still Victoria wanted to believe that this was just another one of his outrageous attempts to shock her. The continued seriousness of his expression gave her pause, but she found it all very difficult to take in. “Lord Sinclair, what gives you any reason to think we would be well suited? Besides, you have just told me yourself that your father has already selected a bride for you.”