Victoria had gone to the five schools on her list, leaving her notice of intent to teach. The matrons at each were surprised she wished to work, three of them assuming her offer was as unpaid charity help. Each, excited at the prospect of having such an influential lady in their school, said they would contact her soon. She would have employment in no time, at this rate.
He supposed it didn’t matter if she gained employment or married. Either way, his duty would be done. He settled on that uneasy thought for a moment. No. Either way his duty wouldn’t be completed until the final portion of the will was executed.
Having everything settled for Miss Dewitt sat better with him. That did mean spending more time with her, but he could tolerate that. It was only three months, after all. Well, now two and a half months. Had two weeks already flown by?
His stomach tightened when she stopped the automobile in front of a stately home half the size of hers. Patricia and Monique Linden would be after his attentions. He needed to focus on Victoria and her success in inheriting her uncle’s estate, not be distracted by frivolous ladies and nonsense. He would need to see if he could strike a deal with Victoria to dispense with entertaining the ladies—an unnecessary stipulation. In exchange for his freedom, he could start helping her in her employment search.
Before the butler or footman could help Victoria, Graham jumped out and rounded the vehicle. He wanted to assist her. It was his duty, after all.
Servants led them through the front door.
The Linden sisters fluttered to him, taking his coat, hat, and gloves. Then they ushered him into the parlor where they sat him on the sofa and plunked themselves down on each side. Monique launched into her litany of all her sister’s finer points. She really wanted to get her sister married so she could wed.
Peter Strausberg escorted Victoria in and seated her in a chair. He sat in one positioned far too close to her.
Taking care of Miss Dewitt was Graham’s responsibility.
The butler entered the room. “Croquet is set up on the back lawn.”
Monique fairly jumped to her feet. “Since it is such a nice day, we thought we would play croquet. You all go on out while I supervise afternoon tea preparations.” She let her gaze flicker between Graham and her sister before she fluttered away.
Having only one sister assigned to him, Graham breathed easier. He rose and offered Patricia Linden his arm. He wished it were Victoria who accepted his assistance, but Mr. Strausberg already had possession of her.
When not in the open automobile with the chilly breeze buffeting one’s face, the afternoon was pleasant indeed. Croquet would be a nice way to occupy the time where he didn’t have to struggle to keep up his end of the conversation.
The trees had metamorphosed from their spring and summer greens to vibrant autumn plumage. But even in this colorful expanse with the green grass below the colorful trees and the blue sky above, Victoria, clad in black, stood out like a prized rose. After a moment, he drew in a breath, realizing he had forgotten to breathe.
Each participant chose a color, and the game was in play.
Victoria had no problem knocking Strausberg’s ball far off course. But when Graham had the opportunity to do the same with Miss Patricia Linden’s, he tapped it lightly. She smiled at him, blinking briskly as though she had specks of dirt in her eyes she was trying overly hard to extricate. Maybe he should rethink his strategy and play more ruthlessly.
The next time Victoria’s ball hit Strausberg’s, Graham said in a low voice, “Let the man win.”
Victoria placed her booted foot on her ball. “You wish for me to lose on purpose? Whatever for?”
“Men don’t like to lose. Especially to a lady. It will put him off.”
“I see.” She batted her eyelashes and let her mallet hover a couple of inches from her ball, lining up her shot.
Good. A nice gentle tap.
She drew in a deep breath, heaved the mallet far over her shoulder, and swung hard.
Graham winced in fear she would strike her own foot.
Clack!
Strausberg’s ball sailed across the yard, almost stopped at the crest of a small rise, and rolled down the slope. His eyes narrowed and his lips thinned as he huffed and puffed after it.
Victoria smiled at Graham. “Silly me. I guess I hit it harder than I thought.”
“You knew exactly what you were doing. Why would you do that to the poor man? He was one of the stronger candidates.”
“Maybe to you. This lets me see what kind of a man he is and whether I could be married to him for the rest of my life.”
He wanted to be mad at her and scold her, but her impish smile got the better of him and disallowed any negative feelings or thoughts.
Chapter 6
Victoria watched out the window. For today’s luncheon, she had invited Mr. Lockhart, a nice enough fellow but not someone she could fall in love with, and for Graham, flirtatious Rosemary Hudson. An interesting combination all around.
Winston Lockhart stepped out of his automobile, a black Columbus Electric Buggy with a matching fold-down leather top and contrasting red interior. He had the top up today because of the frigid drizzle hanging in the air. So a walk in the garden would be out of the question. That meant being cooped up inside with awkward conversations.
Foster opened the door, and Mr. Lockhart entered with his head down against the rain. When he raised his head, his gray gaze fixed on Victoria, and he smiled. “Let me get out of this wet overcoat.”
Foster helped him.
Graham leaned close to her ear. “He’s easily twice your age.”
“Not quite, but close. He’ll turn forty in a couple of months after the first of the year.”
“I didn’t get a good look at him at the initial party. You aren’t seriously interested in a man that much older than you, are you?”
“I’m not interested in any of the men on my uncle’s list.”
“Well then, this little social gathering is a waste of time.”
She faced him. “What shall I do? Throw him out?”
“Not now that he’s already here.”
“But if he wasn’t already in the house, I should have barred the door?”
He tossed her a don’t-be-ridiculous glance.
“I told you none of the men were suitable. Do you believe me now?”
He grunted in response.
Soon after, Miss Hudson arrived and attached herself to Graham.
Victoria thought she would enjoy watching him squirm under Rosemary’s attention, but she didn’t like how the woman snuggled close, pawing at him and laughing like a ninny.
Graham wouldn’t be saying anything that funny. He wouldn’t wish to encourage Rosemary or any of the women.
Unless … he fancied Miss Hudson. Couldn’t be.
Maybe Rosemary hadn’t been such a good choice after all.
At luncheon, Mr. Lockhart sat next to her with Graham and Rosemary across from them.
Mr. Lockhart took a sip of water and set his goblet down. “I was surprised by your party so soon after your uncle’s services. I would have thought you’d have taken advantage of a longer mourning period.”
He had no way of knowing she didn’t know her uncle well enough to mourn him. Though her uncle had kept his distance, she had longed to have an affectionate relationship and loved him. “My uncle wouldn’t have wanted me to lock myself away.” Obvious from the party and courting rituals he’d forced upon her.
She glanced across the table.
Rosemary had her long, slender fingers on Graham’s forearm.
Victoria bristled.
His shoulders looked stiff and tense.
Rosemary needed to stop touching him. Her actions were far too bold.
Victoria tuned back in to Mr. Lockhart’s monologue.
“When I first came to Boston in my early twenties, your uncle took me under his wing and treated me like a son.”
In contrast to her being treated like a stranger who had invaded
her uncle’s well-ordered house.
“I think Joseph would be pleased if we courted.”
If her uncle had chosen a husband for her and not left the decision up to her, would he have chosen Winston Lockhart, his makeshift son?
Rosemary giggled and leaned close to Graham.
Victoria pushed back her chair and spoke to Muriel. “We’re finished with lunch. We’ll have tea in the parlor.” She would see to it that Rosemary and Graham didn’t sit next to each other on the sofa.
Several days later, Graham sat astride his horse on his daily morning trek out to the Helmsworthy mansion. A horseless carriage rumbled up the lane toward him. He guided his mount off the road and onto the grass.
His horse sidestepped as the automobile passed.
Victoria’s chauffeur waved, but Graham couldn’t see anyone in the back. After another twenty minutes in the saddle, he arrived at the stately edifice that never ceased to impress him.
Neil rushed out to see to Graham’s horse.
Graham handed over the reins without a worry. “Thank you for taking such good care of my horse each day.”
“Stable master says they aren’t just a convenience and means to get around. They have personalities and feelings like people do.” The adolescent servant stroked the stallion’s neck. “They deserve kindness. If you treat them well, they will treat you well. They know when you like them.”
Graham had not thought of his horse as much more than a means of transportation. Never thought about the potential of emotions. But he could see the horse responding to the young man by leaning closer and putting his chin on top of his head.
“Good boy,” Neil cooed.
Graham patted his horse’s withers. “Good boy.”
The stallion turned his head and lipped the brim of Graham’s hat as though to say, Nice to finally meet the man on my back. Graham smiled. “Give him an extra carrot or something.”
“He likes apples.”
“An apple then.” Graham traipsed up the steps.
Mr. Dent stood waiting for him. “Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning. Is Miss Dewitt up?”
The butler closed the door behind them and took Graham’s hat and gloves. “She is and has gone into Boston. I thought you knew.”
Graham stopped in the middle of unbuttoning his overcoat. So she had been in the backseat of the automobile after all. Even if he hurried, he doubted he could catch up to her before she disappeared into Boston traffic. “Where did she go?”
“Said she had some errands.”
“Do you know what kind or where?” He removed his coat and handed it to Mr. Dent.
“She didn’t say, but I think they had something to do with the telephone calls she received yesterday.”
“Before I arrived?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did she say when she would return?”
“Not directly, but she left instructions for lunch.”
So she could be back for lunch or just thought to feed him. “I’ll be in the library working. Let me know when she returns.”
“Very well.”
Graham set to his tasks and completed everything he’d packed in his satchel in short order. He hadn’t brought a lot with him, as his grandfather hadn’t given him any new responsibilities and had assigned his current cases to others. Normally that would have irritated him, but he found he didn’t mind. His present task of assisting Victoria was more important, if only temporary. And growing more appealing every day.
With nothing to do but wait for her to return, he perused the shelves. Mr. Helmsworthy had a wide variety of books, from shipping to gardening and from legal texts to building birdhouses. Graham wanted something recreational and found the shelves of novels. Little Women. Pride and Prejudice. An Unwilling Guest and Because of Stephen and a slew of others by a Grace Livingston Hill. This was definitely the romance shelf. No wonder Victoria was so fixated on love.
He pulled down a volume of The Time Machine. This was more to his liking. He got comfortable in a chair and opened the cover.
Midmorning, Mr. Dent slid the doors back no more than a foot and peered in.
Graham closed the book, happy for the distraction, and waved him in. “Is Victoria back?”
“Not yet. Mrs. Fuller has a tea tray for you. Shall I have her bring it in here or serve it in the parlor?”
“Here is fine.”
The housekeeper brought in a tray with tea and cookies and set it on the serving table next to Graham’s chair.
Mr. Dent stepped aside in the doorway for Mrs. Fuller to pass. “Is there anything else you require, Mr. Wellington?”
“This is fine, thank you.” When the pair had just crossed the threshold, Graham spoke again. “Wait. There is something. Have a seat, both of you.”
The housekeeper and the butler glanced at each other, but Mr. Dent spoke. “We would rather not, sir.” He hesitated a moment before continuing. “Servants don’t sit in the presence of others.”
“You’re not my servants.” Graham motioned to the sofa. “Please. I insist.”
Mr. Dent nodded to Mrs. Fuller. She sat awkwardly on the sofa. Mr. Dent sat in the matching chair to Graham’s. “What can we do for you?”
“How long have you known Victoria?”
The housekeeper spoke before the butler could. “Ever since she arrived. Both of us.”
“Tell me about her.”
The pair gave each other uncomfortable sideways glances.
“I’m not snooping. I just want to know what she was like.” After more reassurances, the pair of servants told of Victoria’s arrival fifteen years ago and many stories of her growing up, as well as her kindness and generosity.
Mrs. Fuller sighed. “Those first years, she stuck close to me in the kitchen. Asking all sorts of questions and cooking beside me.”
“Victoria can cook?”
“Nothing difficult. She mostly made cookies and cakes. She likes her sweets.”
He never would have guessed she’d spent any time in a kitchen.
“One of my favorite episodes with her was the bunny incident.” The butler’s mouth turned up in a nostalgic smile. “She had managed to catch a young rabbit and snuck it up to her room. That night she was playing with it under her bedcovers.”
“Oh dear.” Mrs. Fuller put one hand to her chest. “That gave me quite a fright when I went to tuck her in. The bunny jumped out and scampered about the room.”
Mr. Dent took the next turn with the story. “When I entered, it darted between my feet and out of the room. It took us two weeks to capture it and release it outside. The poor thing would have been dead if Cook and Victoria hadn’t fed it.”
They spoke of her more like parents than servants.
“You both care about her a great deal.”
They nodded.
“What about her uncle?”
Mr. Dent answered. “He was a good man.”
“Did he treat her well?”
“As well as he knew how.” Mrs. Fuller replied this time. “The poor man didn’t know the first thing about children. He was at a loss as to what to do when she was around. He would watch her out the window when she played in the yard. He gave me complete charge of raising her. Anything I told him she needed, he saw that she got it.”
Muriel stepped into the room. “Miss is coming up the lane.”
Mr. Dent and Mrs. Fuller shot to their feet. The butler tugged on the bottom of his jacket. “You won’t speak to her of our conversation, will you?”
“Of course not. I appreciate your candor.”
Graham met Victoria in the foyer as she came in the door. “You left before I arrived.”
“I needed to go into Boston.”
“And you didn’t want me along.”
“What need would there have been for you?”
Need? He was supposed to be with her. His duty. He wanted to be with her.
“I honestly didn’t think you would want to go. It would have
been a waste of your time.”
Time with her was never wasted.
“I’m sure you were able to complete a lot of work in my absence.”
What little he’d brought. “So what errands did you attend to?” Would she tell him about the telephone calls?
Her pretty pink lips pulled into a smile. “I had interviews at two of the schools I applied to. They said it was a matter of formality before presenting me to the schools’ boards. And the other three schools are going directly to their boards.”
“Congratulations.”
She would have employment in no time.
And strangely, that made him happy. No more wily suitors.
Victoria sat in the back of the Buick with Graham at her side. Today would be fun. Millicent had readily agreed to afternoon tea at her home. Millicent’s brother, Stanley, would be pleasant company—a nice change from the others—and Victoria would get to see Graham with children.
The chauffeur parked in the circular driveway, got out, and opened the door. He held a black umbrella aloft.
Graham climbed out first and gave her his hand.
Millicent’s butler came out holding up two more umbrellas.
Victoria stepped out and spoke to Pierce. “I could have driven.”
“Indeed.” Pierce dipped his head. “But that would have been unseemly for a lady of your station.”
“I don’t know that I’m concerned with that.” She would soon enough be on her own, and people would think her most unseemly.
One side of the chauffeur’s mouth curved up. “But others would.”
“I suppose.”
“If you drove yourself everywhere, I would be out of a job.”
“Well, now, I couldn’t have that.”
His grin broke full. “Much appreciated, miss.”
The butler led them inside where Millicent waited with three-year-old Richard clutching her hand and baby Ulysses on her hip. “I’m so pleased you made it. We have been looking forward to your visit all week.”
After depositing the umbrellas in the stand, the butler took their coats, hats, and gloves.
Millicent pulled on Richard’s hand, causing the boy to step forward. “This is my son Richard. Richard, say good afternoon to Mr. Wellington.”
The American Heiress Brides Collection Page 11
