by Leenie Brown
He was an excellent horseman and still found an occasional race to be something he could not resist. He had also been a great gambler at his club, though not in the usual fashion. He had not tossed away more than a few coins at a card table. Instead, he had found great delight in betting on challenges posed to him by his group of friends. One such challenge had included stealing a kiss from one of the patronesses at Almacks. He had managed to kiss the lady’s cheek and, then, had found himself promptly banned from the establishment, much to his satisfaction as he claimed his winnings.
Thankfully, Diana had seemed to have a calming effect on him, for, from the time he started courting Roger’s sister, Berkley rarely found himself acting rashly. And since the arrival of his son, he had become nearly decorous – nearly but not quite.
“A guinea says I can skip this rock further than you.”
Roger shook his head. “I am not interested.”
“Not even if I do it with my left foot against the tree. Like this.” Berkley stood and placed his foot flat against the trunk of the tree at about knee height.
“You cannot skip a rock standing like that.”
“I think I can,” Berkley retorted.
“I am not taking your money, nor am I giving you any of mine.”
“Then, let’s make a different agreement. If I can skip the rock – not if I can skip it further than you, but just if I can skip it – you truly do not think I can?” he asked in response to Roger’s look of disbelief.
“No, the angle is all wrong.”
“You might be right, but then again, you might be wrong.”
“Very well, if you can perform this feat, what do you require in payment besides my admitting that you were right?”
“You must answer one question.”
“What question?” Roger eyed his brother-in-law skeptically.
“No, I will not tell you. You must agree to an unknown question, which should not be too hard to do unless, of course, you are hiding something?”
Roger tossed a rock and watched it hop three times before sinking beneath the water. There were things that he wished to keep secret, but then, if he admitted to hiding something, he knew Berkley well enough to know that the man would attempt to discover whatever it was. Roger looked at the awkward way Berkley was standing with his foot still against the tree. Surely, there was no way that he was going to be able to skip a rock.
“I accept.”
“Hand me a rock. Pick the worst one for skipping.”
As if Roger was planning on giving him the best rock to use for such a purpose! Roger was not unskilled at playing games of chance, and he knew that it was always best to have the odds in one’s favour even if it meant arranging things to best advantage.
“You could not find a worse one?” Berkley scoffed when Roger handed him a round craggy rock that fit in his hand so that he could conceal it in a fist but only just. A large and uneven rock such as that was not for skipping — lobbing at the head of an enemy perhaps but not skipping.
“I was only doing as instructed.”
Berkley shook his head. “Only because it suits your purposes,” he said with a laugh.
“Precisely,” Roger admitted.
“It only needs to skip once for me to win.”
Roger nodded. “It is not the number of skips but the mere occurrence of, at least, one skip.” His lips quirked into a smirk. “However, more than one skip would be more impressive.”
Berkley’s eyebrows rose as he considered that while Roger hoped the suggestion would cause him to throw the rock with too much force in the wrong direction.
“One question per skip?”
The man was proficient at twisting things. Roger shook his head.
“Very well, but I might be able to skip this more than once.”
“You might,” Roger agreed.
Berkley huffed, hopped his right foot into position, swung his arm out to the side, and snapped the rock into motion.
If the blasted thing did not bounce once but twice off the water! Roger shook his head. He should have known better than to enter into a bet with Berkley. There were very few challenges the man had never won, but this one had seemed such a sure loss.
Berkley removed his foot from the tree and turned with a grin to Roger. “Why are you here? And do not tell me about needing to get away from females. I want to know if it is because a particular female is chasing you and you do not wish her to do so, or if there is a particular young lady who has finally captured Roger Shelton.”
Roger clenched his jaw and shook his head. He should have known that the one question Diana’s husband would ask would be the one question that he did not want to answer.
“Ah ha! It is a particular young lady.”
“You sound a bit like your wife,” Roger grumbled.
“Well, we have been hoping for some time.”
“Hoping for what? Roger asked. “That I would marry?”
Berkley nodded. “But not just marry.”
Roger cocked his head and looked at his brother-in-law in confusion. “I do not follow.”
Berkley shook his head. “I cannot say. I have promised.”
“That does not make any sense.”
“Tell me who she is. What is the name of the lady who has sent you running?”
“No, it is enough that you know there is one.”
Berkley scowled. “Do I know her?” he asked as he took a seat next to where Roger was once again sitting.
“I am not telling you.”
“Then, tell me why you are running away from her.”
Roger drew a calming breath. How did his sister manage to endure such a persistent fellow?
“If I had to guess,” Berkley said in a more serious tone, “I would say you are feeling a lot like I did when I met Diana. The thought of taking on a wife and family…” He shook his head. “Terrifying. Worse than sneaking through the fence at old Tenley’s house. He had this gardener with one eye, who was a crotchety old fellow – worse than Tenley. Anyway, I survived. Neither the gardener nor his wolfhound ever caught me.” He blew out a breath. “And so far, I have survived being both a husband and a father, though the thought of raising my son does still give me palpitations. However, I do not need to do it on my own. I have Diana, and she did survive having you as a brother.” He nudged Roger with his elbow and chuckled.
“You are right,” Roger admitted. “What do I know of responsibility?”
“Far more than you realize.” Berkley shook his head. “A gentleman with a father like yours and who is still on speaking terms with that father knows more about responsibility than he might like to admit.”
“I am not my father.”
“None of us are. However, there is enough of him in you that you know that taking a wife is a grave responsibility. Your father is not unlike mine.”
“But how do I know I can be the gentleman she deserves?”
“Do you love her?”
Roger nodded.
“Does she love you?”
That was the heart of the matter. He did not know if Victoria loved him. He shrugged.
Berkley picked up the second to last rock and sent it skittering across the pond. “Can you see her with anyone else without wishing to send that fellow to some far off desolate land to live in exile?”
“No.”
Roger had wanted to physically harm Carlyle, and while he had refrained from thinking of doing away with Clayton simply because he was the brother of a good friend, Roger had wished the man would decide to leave the house party or be found in some compromising position with Miss Love so that he could not present himself as a possible suitor for Victoria.
“Then make her love you. Go back to that blasted house party and charm her out of her stockings – figuratively, not literally.” He cast a sidelong grin at Roger. “Unless, of course, that helps your cause.”
“As you did with Diana?”
Berkley shrugged.
“She told m
e,” Roger admitted.
“Did she?”
“Yesterday, and I am not yet over the shock.”
Berkley laughed. “You were shocked by such an admission? I highly doubt that.”
“She is my sister.”
“Precisely. You are not the only Shelton to have an improper bent.”
Roger chuckled. “That I knew. I just did not realize it ran so deeply with my sister. And I would have been quite delighted to have remained ignorant.”
Berkley laughed again. “Are you going to show your face in the house?”
“I came to retrieve a jacket.”
“You could have sent a servant.”
“A servant would not have been able to provoke my mother.”
“You are not going to say that to her, are you?”
Roger rose as he nodded. “That is the very thing I have planned to say in response to her protest that I should not have come to retrieve that jacket.”
“You mean the jacket you do not really need?”
“That is the very jacket.”
“Come. You can see your nephew and take a report back to my wife about all the things she is missing.”
“She cannot leave any sooner than Victoria does,” Roger said as they began their way across the lawn to the house.
“Yes, but she will be more eager to return when the party is done. And I am very eager to have her return.” He drew and released a deep breath. It was a sound of longing — one which Roger’s heart felt and understood.
“I am likely going to run afoul of my wife and possibly Miss Hamilton, but…” Berkley stopped speaking and looked as if he were not certain he should continue. “However, if the lady who has captured your heart is the one whom Diana and I hope you will finally notice, then, I feel I must, as a service to my fellow man and brother, relieve some of your anxiety and tell you that I do not think your suit would be refused.”
Roger’s brow furrowed. Was the fellow speaking about Victoria? Was that why he might find her put out with him for having spoken to Roger?
“I can say no more than this.” Berkley looked around the garden before leaning a bit closer to Roger and whispering, “she has loved you for years.”
Roger stood stalk still. “Victoria?”
Grinning, Berkley clapped Roger on the shoulder. “You did not hear that from me. I will deny it vehemently. Now, come along. We have a child to see and an imaginary jacket to retrieve.”
“Victoria loves me?”
“Why do you suppose she has not yet married?” Berkley gave Roger a shove to start him walking.
It was an action for which Roger was grateful, for it was as if his brain could not think of anything but those three words Victoria loved him.
“Is that truly why she has not married?” Roger asked when his mind was able to conquer things such as walking and speaking.
“You did not hear that from me either,” Berkley said as he opened the door to the servant’s entrance. “I will deny it vehemently.”
Chapter 10
The evening breeze stirred the curtains in the drawing room. Dinner was over, and the card tables were being set up. From the chair where Victoria sat, she could see Grace and her sister, Felicity, standing on the lawn talking with Mr. Clayton and Mr. Ramsey. Grace’s features were all animation as she attended to the conversation.
Oh, to be young and hopeful. Victoria remembered the excitement she had felt during her first season. Every event was new. Every gentleman was a possibility – well, not an actual possibility for her heart was already lost to her friend – but an imagined one. And there had been the ever-present hope that some new dress or hairstyle would be the one which would finally capture Roger’s attention.
Victoria turned her eyes back to the room. Roger had still not returned from wherever he had gone. There had been much-whispered speculation at dinner. Some thought he had bored of the party and left. Others thought perhaps he had been asked to leave after some indiscretion – not that they had heard of any particular reckless behaviour, but he did have a reputation for dalliances. At least one lady had sighed wishing that she was the cause for his removal from the party.
“It is far too excellent an evening to spend inside, Miss Hamilton.” Mr. Carlyle stood before her. “Would you be so kind as to allow me to walk with you around the garden?”
“I had not thought to move from my chair until required to play a hand of some game,” Victoria replied with a smile. She would not be opposed to a walk in the garden with Diana or Grace or even Mr. Clayton, but she had no desire to encourage Mr. Carlyle.
“I promise we will not go far. Just to the rotunda and back.”
“My chaperone is not here to accompany me.”
“We will be in the open. No one would frown on us for walking side by side in clear view of everyone.”
“But I really should let Mrs. Berkley know where I am.”
“I saw her not two minutes ago standing in the garden, just outside the door, speaking with Mrs. Love.”
Victoria glanced out the window. The rotunda was not all that far from the house, and there were no trees or bushes to obstruct the view. “Very well. I shall walk with you, but only after I have informed Mrs. Berkley and asked her if she would like to join us.”
She placed her hand in his outstretched one and allowed him to first assist her in rising and then to escort her to where Diana was speaking with Mrs. Love.
“Mrs. Berkley,” Carlyle began when the ladies had paused their conversation and looked his direction, “Miss Hamilton has given me permission to escort her to the rotunda and back if you will allow it.”
Diana gave Victoria a questioning look.
“I thought you might like to join us,” Victoria said.
“Oh, if you are wanting company, Felicity is a great walker,” Mrs. Love inserted. She stepped away from them slightly and called, “Felicity,” while waving her handkerchief.
Victoria’s smile tightened on her lips so that she did not visibly cringe at the action.
“We older ladies would much rather sit or stand and watch you younger ladies, would we not, Mrs. Berkley?”
Before Diana could do more than open her mouth to speak, Mrs. Love was once again calling to her daughter.
“It would be such a fine thing for a group of young ladies and gentlemen to walk without us. Oh, good,” she said as her daughter approached. “Felicity dear, Mr. Carlyle and Miss Hamilton are looking for people to join them on a walk to the rotunda, and, knowing how fond you are of walking, I naturally suggested you would be delighted to join them.”
Felicity looked from her mother to Mr. Carlyle and then to Victoria. She smiled at Mr. Carlyle, but, when she looked at Victoria, she raised a brow as if she wondered why Mr. Carlyle would wish to walk with her. “Of course, I would be pleased to join you, Mr. Carlyle.” She batted her lashes.
“Did I not say she would be happy to join you?” Mrs. Love beamed at her daughter.
“I shall return with an escort,” Felicity said before hurrying back to her sister and the two gentlemen she had been talking to before her mother had called her.
“If I know my Felicity, you will also be joined by Grace as well as Mr. Ramsey and Mr. Clayton. Felicity does seem to be a favourite amongst the gentlemen,” Mrs. Love whispered before tittering behind her fan and declaring that such a thing was entirely too improper to say, but a mother could not help her delight at seeing a daughter so well-received. She placed a hand on Diana’s arm and added, “The number of soirees to which we had invitations during this past season was nearly overwhelming. She was very popular.”
“How fortunate for you,” Diana said.
“Are you certain you do not wish to walk with us?” Victoria asked Diana.
“Oh, you are too kind, Miss Hamilton, but we shall take our ease on that bench over there until you return,” Mrs. Love answered, causing Diana to scowl briefly.
“I think Mrs. Love desires my presence,” Diana answered.
<
br /> “It does seem that way,” Victoria agreed softly.
“And I suppose I would like to be close to the house and easily found should my brother return,” Diana added.
“Oh,” Mrs. Love said in an eager whisper, “I should like to know the true reason for his disappearance.”
She was not alone in that wish. Victoria wanted to know the same thing. However, Victoria was not the sort of lady to say such a thing in front of others. If she and Diana had been alone, she would have said the same thing, but seeing as they were not, she held her tongue, which seemed to be a skill Mrs. Love seemed not to possess. How Grace had grown into the sweet, though naïve, young woman she was still baffled Victoria. She could see where Grace got her fondness for filling the air with a constant stream of words, but neither Mrs. Love nor Felicity seemed to possess the sweetness that Grace had.
“Did I not tell you?” Mrs. Love said with no little amount of excitement as Felicity approached.
Victoria caught herself before her eyebrows could rise in surprise for Felicity did not have her hand on Mr. Clayton’s arm but rather on Mr. Ramsey’s.
“Mr. Carlyle, we are all ready to proceed to the rotunda,” Felicity declared.
Victoria caught Grace’s eyes and sent her a questioning look. Grace shrugged one shoulder and smiled a sad half-smile, while Mr. Clayton looked resigned.
The poor man was not only being thrown over but in a very open and grand fashion. She would have to speak to Roger. Mr. Clayton needed to find someone other than Miss Love to court. No amount of beauty was worth being treated poorly! Why the gentleman would do much better to pursue Miss Grace!
It had been said in jest when they were all gathered on the lawn yesterday, but as Victoria considered it now, it was not a deplorable idea other than it would mean Mr. Clayton would have to see Miss Love on a regular basis. That was not something Victoria would be able to countenance, and she imagined it must be the same for gentlemen. How did anyone, regardless of gender, watch the person whom they thought they had loved – or perchance did love and still loved – happily attach themselves to another without losing their equanimity.
