“The heat is what you notice first. It doesn’t seem to matter what time of the year you arrive. It is sure to be hotter than in England. Well, perhaps it’s not the heat you’d notice first, because it is just so beautiful you might not notice. The colour of the water defies description. I’m not creative enough to know what to even call those shades of blue. It seems to never rain there, but it surely must, since the land is so lush with vegetation.”
Her eyes had grown wider and more attentive, as though she were hanging on every word and trying to envision what he was describing.
“Do you have maps of the area?” she asked, breathless as though not believing it were possible.
“Of course, do you read maps?”
Her vigorous nod almost took them out of the steps of the dance, causing them both to laugh. “It’s a fascination I’ve had since I was a girl. We had a governess who had travelled. Her stories and drawings fascinated me. I must have been at a particularly formative age, as it didn’t affect any of my sisters in the same way, but I’ve always wished girls didn’t have to stay home.”
Ash laughed. “What is with you Sherton girls, such beautiful women, wishing to be boys?”
Vicky laughed along with him, even as she flushed with obvious embarrassment. “I had nearly forgotten you were friends with Hil. She’s obviously over her wish to be our father’s heir.”
Ashford felt bad for making light of her words. He could see she wanted to slip away as their dance came to an end. He reached out and touched her elbow.
“I can fully understand why you would love maps and wish to see more. I hope you get to do so.” She nodded but couldn’t quite bring her gaze above his chin. “I promise to tell you more about my island this week.”
It must have been the right thing to say as her eyes finally met his, and he could see excitement in them once more.
He could see that she was going to leave him, but just before she did, she almost whispered, in a shy voice, “I don’t actually wish to be a boy,” and then she hurried away.
Throughout the rest of the evening, Ash felt as though he were dancing an invisible dance to which only the two of them could hear the music or knew the steps. They would come together and dance or speak for a few minutes before one or the other of them would pull away, as though they were having second thoughts about their association. But then, before long, as though they couldn’t help themselves, they were drawn back together for another dance or another brief conversation.
He couldn’t decide if he ought to rejoice or despair. He had no interest in a flighty, moody partner for life. Perhaps he ought to put Lady Vigilia from his mind completely. He considered the other options at the house party and made an effort to speak and dance with other women. But still he kept coming back to Vigilia.
Despite his negative response to spending lunch with the lady, Ash thought to give Lady Delilah a second chance. She was a pleasant companion and an excellent dance partner. She even seemed somewhat intelligent, asking reasonable questions and expressing herself coherently when they were discussing various aspects of the Season. But she didn’t seem to have any interest in his pursuits and couldn’t seem to fathom being anywhere other than the English countryside. He tried not to laugh at her reaction to what ought to have been a simple question.
“Have you ever wanted to see other parts of the world, Lady Delilah?”
“Do you mean like Leeds or Sheffield?” she asked with wide eyes, seemingly naming the most adventurous places she could think of.
Ash wondered if she were jesting. “No, I was thinking of perhaps another country, like France or the Rhine, maybe even America.”
The wide-eyed stare she offered him made him wonder if perhaps he had been too quick in considering her to be intelligent.
“I would never consider France, as we have been at war with them. And the Americas strike me as being far too barbaric to bother visiting. The Rhine or even Prussia might not be too bad, though. Have you been there?”
Ashford was at a momentary loss for words. He couldn’t really respond to most of what she had said, at least not in any way that would be considered polite for the aristocratic house party. He hoped he wasn’t snarling when he finally managed to answer her question. “I have, yes. It was quite lovely.”
There wasn’t much more to say to her, from his perspective. He hoped he was remaining polite, but she was certainly not one he would consider as a potential wife for himself. That thought somehow drew his eyes back toward Vigilia just as she was curtsying to Lord Clifton at the end of their dance. He felt the impulse to ask her to dance with him once more, but they had already danced twice that evening. Even though this wasn’t London, there were still enough members of Society present that it could be considered a declaration he wasn’t ready to make. He turned instead to Miss Kitty.
It was a bit of a relief when the announcement was made that this was to be the last dance of the night. It was a lively country dance, which would relieve him of the need to have much conversation. But when he briefly crossed paths with Vigilia, she wouldn’t quite meet his eyes, keeping her gaze fixed firmly on his chin. Ashford fought down the urge to give the girl a shake, but it was a challenge.
Chapter Thirteen
Vicky was more than ready for her bed by the time the dancing drew to a close. Even though it was far earlier than a ball would end in Town, the exertions of the day were catching up with her. Added to that were her constantly conflicted feelings about Ashford Northcott, and she was ready to hide in her bedchamber for at least a fortnight. That would never do, so she would make good her escape for the night at the very least.
Watching him seemingly enjoy his time with the other ladies present had done inexplicable things to her equilibrium. Vicky wished she could talk the entire matter over with Georgia, but that good woman was preoccupied with her other guests. And Vicky was reasonably sure her dear friend would tell her she was being daft to not want the gentleman for herself but then to be irritated when he seemed to enjoy the company of others. Georgia would likely tell her she was being selfish. And Vicky wouldn’t be able to argue with such a declaration, as she had already realized it about herself. She only hoped the morrow would bring a bit of clarity to her many dilemmas.
Since it had been a later night, when Vicky arrived in the breakfast room it was to find that she was again the only female, but Georgia soon arrived and it was a delightful repast. The day had been set aside for outdoor pursuits such as archery, croquet, and battledore and shuttlecock. The weather appeared to be perfect for the pursuits, and Vicky was looking forward to the exertions and fresh air, things she had been lacking in London.
“Isn’t it strange what a year out of the social whirl will do to you? I had thought I loved the Town life but after only a few weeks, I’m delighted to be here, pursuing more simple but also more physical activities rather than making morning calls and sipping tea.”
Georgia laughed over her words. “Don’t worry, there will still be plenty of tea.”
Vicky laughed along with her friend but knew there was truth in what she had said. It told her something important. While she wouldn’t mind visiting London occasionally, perhaps for part of the Season, she wouldn’t particularly care to be there for its entirety. So, marrying a politically minded gentleman might not be the best idea.
She rather suspected Lord Bertram was very much of a political bent. She had never had any intention of allowing that gentleman to court her, but her new realization was all the more motivation to do all she could to avoid him. She couldn’t decide how she felt with regards to his suspicions about Ashford Northcott, but she had no desire to be involved in his agenda, whatever it might be. In fact, she decided with alacrity, she would prefer to avoid both of those gentlemen as much as she could manage.
It took a bit of effort, but Vicky managed to remain happily occupied in all the outdoor pursuits of the day while steering clear of both gentlemen. She had felt their assessing gazes throughout
the day but had not allowed that to interfere with her enjoyment of the various games she participated in. She even managed to win the game of battledore and shuttlecock she had played with Georgia and Delilah. Georgia had, of course, dropped her hand to her midsection with a significant arch to her eyebrows as though to excuse her loss due to her pregnancy. Vicky had merely rolled her eyes at her friend and laughed.
“The babe cannot be your excuse for everything the entire time, George,” Vicky had exclaimed.
“Sure it can,” Georgia had laughed. “It’s very important work producing the possible heir, surely I can use that for an excuse for anything I please.”
Vicky entwined her arm through Georgia’s elbow. “Very well, my dear, but he or she is barely even visible, so you cannot say that it interfered with your game.”
Georgia shrugged and laughed, not bothering to argue. “I never was very good at losing.”
After an evening of music and charades where Vicky managed to still avoid both of the gentlemen in question, she retired to her room with a satisfied sigh of contentment. She may not be any closer to finding a husband, but she was having a delightfully diverting sojourn with friends.
The next day had another quiet start. Many of the other young women seemed to be the sort who slept far later than Vicky was accustomed to. She had already written to everyone she corresponded regularly with and hadn’t yet received replies from any of her family, conspicuously not her brothers-in-law that she was particularly anxious to hear from. Being thoroughly sick of her current needlework project and not wishing to disturb Georgia, who had closeted herself with the housekeeper, Vicky found herself wandering toward the library.
“I had hoped to speak with you. Thank you for making an opportunity for us to be private.”
Vicky nearly yelped with her surprise over the sudden appearance of the oily viscount.
“I had no intention of being private with you, my lord. You know it’s highly inappropriate.”
“The door is open, the proprieties are covered, my lady, do control your fidgets.”
“They are not fidgets, Lord Bertram, they are valid concerns.”
“Well, then tell me what you have found out, and I’ll leave you to your own pursuits, if that is your wish.”
Vicky sighed. “I have found out nothing, my lord. Not that I believe there is truly anything to find out. Mr. Ashford Northcott seems to be just a regular gentleman like anyone you might meet. I truly do not think he has any nefarious intentions toward His Majesty, and I couldn’t discern anything questionable about his business dealings.” She paused for a moment before reluctantly admitting, “I’m afraid, though, it is truly as I told you. I have no idea how to question someone. I’m far too conventional. While every instinct inside me urges me to do all that I can to protect my family, I truly cannot fathom how I might do so.”
“You disappoint me,” he said in a tone that sounded almost like a growl. He was advancing toward her with a menacing pace when another deep voice intruded upon them. Vicky wasn’t sure if she was relieved or terrified of where it all might end.
“Bertram, that is enough of you,” Ashford said, calm and assured, bringing the viscount up short. “Clifton is awaiting you for your match.”
Vicky didn’t think Lord Bertram was going to listen to him but after another growl and a muttered expletive, he swung away from her and stormed out of the room. She wasn’t sure if she had even blinked since Ashford had entered the room, it had all passed in such a blur.
“Are you all right?”
The deep voice was low and gentle, almost like a caress, and it nearly brought Vicky to tears as the entire situation flooded into her consciousness. He strode toward her and clasped her hands warmly in his.
“Tell me what happened. I’ll help in any way possible.”
Her laughter sounded watery as she tried to regain her composure and figure out what she ought to do. But Ashford was there and sounded so kind and understanding, she couldn’t help but pour out the entire sorry tale.
“He told me you were plotting something against King George and that if I didn’t find a way to stop you, my family would be implicated in the scandal that would erupt around you.”
“Did you laugh in his face for such a ludicrous suggestion?”
“I tried to at first, but he sounded so certain. And I couldn’t take a chance that something bad would happen to my sisters.”
Vicky almost quailed under the intensity of his incredulous stare, but then his face softened slightly and he squeezed her hands.
“And we haven’t been the best of friends since you came up for the Season, so I suppose you wouldn’t think to come to me with this.”
She shrugged a little trying to seem unaffected but then a tear slid down her cheek, giving away just how overwrought she was.
“I didn’t know who to turn to. I didn’t even tell Georgia, as I didn’t want to upset her in her condition. I couldn’t involve my sisters, as they’re in the same position or too young to involve. I couldn’t take a chance on there being a scandal that might make life difficult for Grace and Felicity. It didn’t seem at all likely that you were involved in any sort of plots, but I felt that I couldn’t trust my own judgment where you are concerned.”
“Why not?”
“That’s hardly the point, at the moment. The question really ought to be why would Lord Bertram make such an accusation? If it isn’t true about you, could it be true about someone? Is there perhaps a plot afoot that we ought to do something about?”
“Is this why you’ve been asking me the strangest questions and vacillating between being friendly and cool?”
Vicky shrugged again. “I was actually interested in hearing about your travels, but I was also hoping they might give me some insight into whether or not you could possibly be up to no good. But then I realized I wasn’t really smart enough to figure that out. I would like to think that I am intelligent, but I think you might need to be slightly crooked yourself to be able to figure out a schemer. And I’m sad to say, I’m terribly conventional and boring.”
“I wouldn’t say that at all about you. But tell me, what did Bertram want from you?”
“I couldn’t rightly say, to be honest. He wasn’t making the most sense. I’m ashamed to admit that I panicked a little when he first spoke to me, so I didn’t ask him enough. Or rather, I didn’t insist that he tell me everything. I tried to, but he said he would share more once I gathered information from you. But I wasn’t very good at it.”
“What sort of information did he want?”
“He wanted to know about your interests and businesses.”
Ashford stiffened. “So, you were only asking for him.”
“What does it matter? If there’s a plot afoot, shouldn’t that be the focus?” Finally, it all became too much for Vicky, and she started to cry. “I should have gone to Crossley with my concerns right away. It was foolish of me to try to figure it out on my own. But all I could think about was protecting my sisters.”
Ashford pulled her into his arms. “You should have come to me about it, foolish girl,” he said in a warm tone that did delicious things to her fluttery heart.
Suddenly, a gasp sounded from the doorway.
“What is going on in here? What is the meaning of this?” The shrill voice was getting louder and louder, echoing off the high ceilings of Crossley’s elegant estate, bringing the attention of others as Vicky realized how it might look and sprang out of Ashford’s arms, quickly wiping away her tears and frantically thinking of a way to fix the awkward situation she suddenly found herself in.
Lady Delilah was flapping her arms and calling for her mother, tears streaming from her eyes. Vicky was bewildered as to what the silly young woman could possibly have to cry about. She didn’t think the other woman was empathetic enough to be crying at the sight of Vicky’s tears.
Georgia was trying to soothe the situation, but the milling crowd was gathering and casting suspicious glances at
all of them. Vicky heard Ashford sigh heavily. Her gaze met his, and her stomach dropped as he opened his mouth. Somehow, she just knew what he was about to say, and it was going to ruin everything.
“Lady Vigilia has just accepted my offer of marriage.”
Vicky managed not to scream her denial for all the world to hear, withstanding the shift in the atmosphere as suddenly everyone was offering their congratulations instead of their suspicions. All but Lady Delilah, that is. Clearly, she had been hoping that she would be the one about whom Ashford Northcott would be making such an announcement. Vicky nearly rolled her eyes over the vagaries of the ton.
Soon, Georgia had ushered everyone from the room to take tea in the salon, leaving only Ashford, Crossley, and Vicky staring at one another until Georgia returned and quietly shut the door.
Chapter Fourteen
“Why did you say such a ridiculous thing?”
“What else was I supposed to do? You were in my arms and crying.”
“You could have said someone died.”
Ash didn’t appreciate that she would rather there be a death than an engagement.
“It still would have compromised you.”
“Hardly. The door was open. We weren’t doing anything wrong.”
Crossley interrupted their burgeoning argument. “What were you doing with your arms around my charge, Northcott? I take it you didn’t actually propose marriage to her?”
“I didn’t, but I’m prepared to stand by my word.”
Ashford’s chin rose in challenge as he glared at the earl.
“Do I not get any say in this matter?”
By now, Lady Crossley was standing beside Vigilia, clearly undecided whether she ought to be comforting her friend or glaring at her guest, while she also obviously wanted to throw herself at her husband for some comfort of her own. Vigilia must have realized the same thing. Ash watched as she visibly pulled herself together and put her arm around her friend.
A Gentleman to Avoid: Sweet Regency Romance (Sherton Sisters Book 3) Page 13
