Forever Mine (39 page)

“Don’t worry, my lady. I’m sure this will pass in a couple of weeks. At least that’s what my mum says. I should have realized the food would cause you to feel bad. Toast and cocoa will settle your stomach best I think.”

“What?” Victoria stared up at Molly in bewilderment.

“Why the baby, my lady. My mum says the morning sickness goes away for most women fairly soon.”

“Baby?”

She closed her eyes and counted backward. Oh God, she was pregnant. An overwhelming wave of joy rolled over her. She was carrying Nicholas’ child. In the next instant, fear snagged at her. What was it he’d said?
The risk of siring a child with the same difficulties as my brother is too great.
Nicholas had made it clear he didn’t want children. It was why he insisted on a condom every time they made love. With a soft cry, she drew her legs up to her chest and buried her face against her knees. What was she going to do? What would he say?

“Oh my lady, there’s no need to cry.” Molly bent over her and helped Victoria to her feet then back into the bedroom.

As she sank down into her chair by the fire, she told the maid to take the food tray away. The young woman had protested, eventually convincing Victoria to have toast with her cocoa. Just before she left the room, Molly released a sound of annoyance.

“Lord love me, I forgot to give you the note his lordship left for you.” The maid pulled out an envelope from her pocket and handed it to her. As the maid turned away, Victoria caught her arm.

“You’re not to say a word about this to anyone, Molly. Not even Lord Guildford. Do you understand?”

“Of course, my lady.” The maid’s expression was one of confused disappointment. “I’d never betray your confidence like that.”

Victoria nodded then released her grip on the maid’s arm and nodded for her to leave. When the bedroom door closed behind Molly, Victoria opened the letter, the parchment rustling softly as she unfolded the letter.

Victoria,

The police have ruled last night’s incident as attempted murder on Darby’s part, but as the man is dead, there will be no further investigation. Since they have already reached that conclusion, I stated that it was unnecessary to question you in the matter, and they agreed.

I have an appointment with Sir Kenelm this morning, and some other business to attend to, but I shall return sometime this afternoon. We shall talk then.

Your husband, Nicholas

Relieved she wouldn’t have to rehash the horror of last night, she closed her eyes. She knew last night’s events had shaken her more than she cared to admit, and she had no wish to relive those last moments before she toppled over the railing. It wasn’t the memory of the fall that frightened her so much as it was the familiar mist she’d entered. Nicholas’ image had been the last thing she’d seen before it had swallowed her.

The white fog had terrified her because she was certain she was either dead or that when she woke she’d be back in the present. When she’d opened her eyes to see Nicholas’ face, she’d clung to him, terrified that he wasn’t real. It was why she’d not wanted to take the drug to sleep, but she’d been too tired and overwhelmed to argue. But it hadn’t stopped the fear that she might wake up far away from Nicholas.

She closed her eyes. She’d known weeks ago how devastating returning to the past would be to her heart, but now there was the baby. One more very important reason never to leave the past. Her hand pressed against her stomach as she imagined holding Nicholas’ baby in her arms. Victoria’s heart sank. The most difficult question wasn’t how to tell him, but how would he react?

The thought made her stiffen in her chair. Nicholas had referred to her as my love several times last night. Until now it hadn’t really registered. Was it possible he loved her? If he did, would that make a difference where the baby was concerned? Question after question flitted through her mind until she felt as if she was drowning in conflict. But every question revolved back to the question of how Nicholas would act. It was a question she was terrified to have answered, and she didn’t have a clue as to how she would tell him the truth.

D
espite Molly’s protests, Victoria dressed and went downstairs. Edmund was in the library playing with some toy soldiers, and he greeted her with restrained enthusiasm.

“Nicholas said you had another spell. He said you might not be well for Christmas.” A look of concern furrowed his brow, and Victoria squeezed his hand and kissed his cheek affectionately.

“Nicholas is a worrywart. I’ll be fine,” she said with a smile. Satisfied with her response, the gentle man grinned. “So we can still go shopping for Christmas presents tomorrow like you said?”

“Yes, I’m only a little tired today. So tomorrow, we’re going to have a terrific time.” She nodded toward the soldiers on the carpet. “Why don’t you go back to playing with your soldiers? I’m going to read for a little while.”

Edmund grinned and returned to his seat on the floor in front of his miniature soldiers, while Victoria browsed the book collection in the library. She pulled a book called
The Woman In White
off the shelf. The book gave her no indication of what the story might be like, but the title intrigued her. The sound of someone at the front door made her set the book down, and she walked into the foyer. The sight of the Duchess du Chatelaine made Victoria grimace. What did the woman want? Victoria vaguely noted the man beside her as her gaze met Eleanor’s.

“Hello, Eleanor. What can I do for you?” she asked politely.

“Oh
ma petite
,
Monsieur
Reardon and I came to console you over the loss of your poor
Monsieur
Darby.” Something in the woman’s voice, made Victoria narrow her gaze at the other woman.

“I’m sorry, Eleanor, but I’m not sure why you’d say he was mine. I’d never met the man until last night,” Victoria said with irritation.

“The duchess is correct, my dear Vickie. We’ve been worried about you since hearing about Darby’s…accident last night,” the man called Reardon said in a quietly accusatory tone.

The way he said the word accident suggested he was questioning what had happened. Worse, the man had called her Vickie, and she had the urge to deck the guy. Annoyed she narrowed her gaze at him. The man seemed well aware of her irritation, and a cold smile curled his thin mouth. It was a look that sent a streak of fear skimming down her back. There was something vicious and calculating in the man’s dark-eyed gaze. Instinctively, she knew the man was more than an acquaintance of Vickie’s. She smiled slightly and gestured toward the salon.

“Would you like to sit down?”

Eleanor sniffed her answer and eyed her with contempt. Irritated that she’d even bothered to invite them deeper into the house, Victoria clenched her teeth. She never had liked women who thought the world revolved around them. The duchess preceded her into the salon, and as Victoria followed the other woman, Reardon touched her elbow to escort her in.

The moment his hand cupped her elbow, dark images flooded her mind. The sound of a shovel against dirt echoed in her ears, and she could almost feel the dirt landing on her face. With a sharp breath, she jerked away from him. Without looking at him, she walked into the salon to see Eleanor taking a seat on one of the two sofas. Victoria had no intention of sitting. She was going to make their visit as short as possible without causing a scene. She tipped her head slightly and met Reardon’s shrewd gaze.

“Somehow, I don’t think you’ve come to pay your condolences. I think you’re here for another reason.”

“As perceptive as always, my dear Vickie.”

“If you call me
Vickie
one more damn time, you’re going to regret it.” Her vicious response caught him off guard for a moment, but he recovered almost immediately.

“Interesting. I don’t believe the countess,
I knew
, would ever uttered such a vulgarity.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

In the back of her mind, a siren went off in her head. The man thought she was an imposter. No, he knew she was an imposter because Vickie was dead. Suddenly the connection between the man and her visions made her stomach lurch. She and Anna had been right. Vickie was dead, and this man had killed her.

“Really, my dear,” Reardon murmured quietly as cold amusement settled on his face. “There’s no need for deception among friends.”

“Since I don’t know you, I’d hardly call us friends,” she said coolly. The man moved as fast as a striking snake and closed the distance between them to catch her chin in his hand.

“Perhaps lovers would be a better word, my dear…Victoria.”

The deliberate hesitation before her name made her certain he knew she wasn’t Vickie. Panic raced through her. Where the hell was Nicholas? No, she needed to deal with this on her own. Nicholas had suffered enough embarrassment with Vickie and Darby’s affair. She wasn’t about to add to his humiliation. She also wasn’t sure how she could tell him Vickie was dead, and that Reardon had killed the countess. If he knew any of that, it would make it more difficult to deny he’d not murdered Vickie if the police ever questioned him. Victoria jerked free of his uncomfortable grasp and stepped backward.

“First you suggest Lord Darby was special to me, then you’re saying you and I are lovers. Which is it? And don’t say the two of us, because I’d find it hard to believe that I was stupid enough to find you remotely attractive.”

“Trust me, my dear, Vickie. We were quite intimate,” the man bit angrily.

Satisfaction swept through Victoria as his response indicated she’d pricked his ego good. Her triumph died quickly at the way Reardon’s eyes glittered with fury. Steeling herself not to flinch in the face of his outrage, Victoria shook her head.

“What is it you really want, Reardon?” A cold chill crept over Victoria’s skin as she struggled to keep her features from revealing any emotion at all.

“I think you know the answer to that, my lady.”

“If I did, I wouldn’t have asked the question,” she said in a tight voice. She glanced at Eleanor who was looking at Reardon with a distinct look of fear. Why was the woman so afraid of the man?

“You possess something that belongs to me, and I want it back.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She frowned in puzzlement. Last night Darby had been raving about some book he’d given her, and now Reardon was asking for something too. What the hell had Vickie been involved in?

“You are an excellent actress, Victoria, but we both know you’re courting disaster with this pretense.” A soft laugh escaped Reardon’s thin lips. It was a cruel sound.

“Are you suggesting I’m not the Countess of Guildford?” She forced a smile to her lips, hoping she looked as confident as she sounded, because she was feeling far from it.

“I think it highly unlikely.”

“I see. Then why don’t you tell me where the real countess is.” At her response, an expression of misgiving crossed the man’s features before he quickly recovered his confident manner.

“I think we both know the answer to that, my dear, Victoria.”

“Then that means in order to discredit me you’d have to implicate yourself,” she snapped. “Not to mention that I’ll just tell the police that it’s a plot of yours to blackmail me and Lord Guildford.”

For a moment, Reardon stared at her in amazement as she glared at him defiantly. A moment later, he released an appreciative laugh and bowed his head in her direction.

“Unlike the woman you impersonate, my dear, you have a clever head on your shoulders, Victoria.” The man looked at Eleanor, and the other woman blanched. “But as Eleanor has discovered, to her detriment, I do not like clever women. They make my life difficult, so why not put this petty quarrel aside. Give me what’s mine, and I’ll refrain from exposing you.”

“Even if I knew what it was you wanted, I doubt I’d be willing to give it to you. You’ve already killed for it once, what would stop you from doing it again?”

“Do not trifle with me, my dear countess,” Reardon snarled and took a step forward. “If you don’t produce the book, I’ll see to it that you
and
the earl will both regret ever having crossed me.”

The bitter manner in which he mentioned Nicholas made her mouth go dry. There was more to this mystery than just Vickie’s disappearance. The man hated Nicholas. She was certain of it from the rage flashing in Reardon’s beady eyes.

“I think it’s time you left so you can go fuck yourself in private,” she bit out fiercely. Reardon and Eleanor both stared at her in shock, and she knew her language was the cause. Refusing to stand down, she glared at both of them. “Get out now, and if either of you come back, I’ll report you to the police for attempting to blackmail Lord Guildford and me.”

“Before you throw us out, my dear Victoria, has it ever occurred to you how easily your husband could be accused of murder, and you could be charged as his accomplice for pretending to be the countess?”

“For someone who thinks they’re so smart, you’re acting like you don’t understand English. I said to get out.”