Gayle Buck (11 page)

“Lord Damion appears well able to handle any disturbance with a calming authority,” said Victoria, sitting down beside her on the sofa. She picked up the yarns to hold them so that they would not tangle. Lady Hortense nodded to her in appreciation.

“I daresay it is Damion’s military training. The army steadied him amazingly, I am happy to say,” said Lady Hortense. “You would never have recognized him a few years ago. Damion was a wild young man of a very quick temper, very much like your Charles was.”

“Forgive me for saying so, ma’am, but I have observed that a hasty temper is a common trait in this family,” said Victoria dryly. “And I have yet to see any member bother to bridle it.”

“Oh, I think it nearly impossible to bridle it, my dear. And only Evelyn seems to have escaped what I call the heart of fire. Of us all, he is least likely to burn those around him,” said Lady Hortense placidly.

Victoria stared at her in astonishment. “Dear lady, surely you jest. Evelyn is as bad as the others.”

“Oh no.” Lady Hortense glanced at her. “You are doubtless confusing Evelyn’s fits of temper with the true March rage. You see, the families have been connected through several generations and it is always this one trait from the March side which seems to crop up. You may see it in Sir Aubrey. But Evelyn’s anger passes off quickly and then he is as agreeable as one could wish. I believe he inherited his mother’s sweetness of disposition but he deliberately takes care to hide it from Sir Aubrey.”

“I had noticed that Evelyn and Sir Aubrey do not care overmuch for one another,” said Victoria.

Lady Hortense sighed. “Evelyn resents his father and I cannot find it in my heart to blame him. Sir Aubrey married late in life, and though he loved Amanda, his habits were too well established for him to give up his pleasures in London. Amanda preferred the country estate and that was where Evelyn was raised. He saw his father but rarely, and Sir Aubrey was not the sort of man to easily endear himself to a small boy.”

“That I can well believe,” said Victoria, a twinkle in her eyes.

Lady Hortense laughed, then said, “When Amanda died a few years ago, I believe Sir Aubrey deeply regretted his neglect of his family and tried to make amends with Evelyn. But of course Evelyn had become a grown man and it was too late. Now Evelyn will have little to do with him and I fear that Sir Aubrey feels it most grievously.”

“How sadly ironic,” murmured Victoria.

Margaret entered the room. She acknowledged Victoria’s presence with a bare nod before turning her attention to Lady Hortense. “Doro asked me to convey her regards, my lady. She intends to join us for luncheon today.”

“I am so glad. Dorothea is such a dear little creature. I have missed her gentle company,” said Lady Hortense.

Margaret seated herself in a silk-covered chair and began to flip through a ladies’ magazine. “Indeed, we shall be quite the family when we sit down at luncheon. You must not be shy, Lady Victoria.” Her smile was sweet and she said softly, “But then I cannot imagine you have a retiring nature at all for you seem to get along so well, and particularly with the gentlemen.”

Victoria smiled faintly at the woman’s barbed words. “I have found that a gracious manner will always gain one respectful attention.”

Though attentive to her embroidery, Lady Hortense was aware of the undercurrents in the younger women’s exchange and wondered at it. “Quite true, my dear. I can yet recall my own mother instructing me on the virtues of proper deportment and easy conversation. I doubt that the demands of society have changed much since my day. Margaret, how did you leave London? Were there many still in town?”

Balked of her prey, Margaret turned her shoulder on Victoria to reply to Lady Hortense.

Victoria rose to go to the pianoforte in the comer. She trailed her fingers idly over the ivory keys and glanced over the music sheets laying on top of the instrument.

“Oh, do you play, Lady Victoria? Somehow I did not expect living with the army would encourage the polite arts,” said Margaret with a tinkling laugh.

Lady Hortense contemplated Margaret gravely for a moment, wondering at her inexplicable antagonism toward Victoria. She had never known Margaret Giddings to be so discourteous. Turning to Victoria, Lady Hortense said gently, “Pray favor us with a tune, Lady Victoria. I for one find music most enjoyable.

“Certainly, my lady,” said Victoria. She seated herself at the pianoforte and began to play softly from memory so that she did not intrude upon her companions’ conversation. As always, she quickly became caught up in the music. Victoria lost touch with her surroundings and in her thoughts she was playing for Charles as she had done so often in the evenings when he was at home.

A hand was laid gently on her shoulder. Victoria looked up, half expecting to see Charles, and with a stab of disappointment returned to the present.

“I am most reluctant to stop you, Lady Victoria,” said Lady Hortense, withdrawing her hand. “We have sat idle these past twenty minutes in absolute wonder. You have a marvelous gift for music, my dear. Does she not, Margaret?”

“Oh, quite marvelous,” said Margaret with a brittle smile.

Lady Hortense abandoned Margaret as an ally. “But here are Sir Aubrey and Damion to escort us in to luncheon.”

Victoria rose from the pianoforte bench. She met Lord Damion’s thoughtful gaze and inexplicably colored. She addressed herself to Lady Hortense. “Thank you for your kind words, my lady. I apologize if I have kept you waiting. I seem to lose all sense of time when I play.”

“Quite all right, my dear. We are not usually so formal about luncheon or I would have let you continue. But it is a rare occurrence to have the whole family together,” said Lady Hortense, giving Victoria a warm smile. Her inclusion of Victoria as one of the family was obvious and Victoria returned her smile.

Sir Aubrey claimed Victoria’s arm, leaving Lord Damion to escort his mother and Margaret. As they went into the dining room, Sir Aubrey murmured, “I must again revise my original opinion about you, Lady Victoria. Your performance at the pianoforte must lay to rest any doubts I may have had about your upbringing. I approve of good breeding.”

“I am overwhelmed, Sir Aubrey,” said Victoria with a touch of sarcasm. He let out a bark of laugher, admiring her spirit.

Margaret made certain that she had a place next to Lord Damion. She was pleased when Victoria was seated somewhat down the table. Anticipating the opportunity to claim Lord Damion’s attention for herself, she was prepared to enjoy the meal.

When Sir Aubrey had seated Victoria, he glanced around and testily demanded, “Where is Evelyn? If we are to have a damned formal luncheon, the least he—”

“I am here, sir. And I have brought Doro with me.” Evelyn tenderly seated a small young woman whose slim figure was slightly thickened with her pregnancy. He took his place beside her. Sir Aubrey stared at them, his ire cut off in midstream. His daughter-in-law greeted the gathering in her soft pleasant voice and he snorted.

Chapter Twelve

Victoria curiously studied the young woman and thought she had never seen anyone who better fitted the description of an angel. Dorothea St. Claire had soft brown hair and a fawn’s gentle brown eyes. Her face was heart-shaped and her hands and wrists were delicately formed.

She apparently felt Victoria’s regard and turned to her with a smile. “I must thank you once more for your encouragement last evening, Cousin Victoria. It meant much to me and to Eve. I hope that we may become much better acquainted while we are both here.”

“I would like that, Mrs. St. Claire,” said Victoria, warmed by the girl’s genuine friendliness.

“Pray call me Doro. Everyone does, you know,” said Dorothea.

“I shall remember to do so,” said Victoria.

Sir Aubrey leaned toward them. “I am happy that you are well enough to join us, girl. You’ve a bit of healthy color in your cheeks today. I am glad to see it.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Dorothea softly. Evelyn drew her attention to the soup and vegetables. She nodded, allowing him to serve her. When he pressed her too hard to accept greater portions, she stopped him with a gentle word.

Evelyn eventually left Doro to her meal and leaned past her to talk to Victoria. “What did you think of Starfire, cousin?”

“She is a beauty,” said Victoria with quick enthusiasm. “I only wish that I could see her in action.”

Catching their conversation, Lord Damion said, “Lady Victoria has won over John Dickens, Evelyn. That should tell you something about her knowledge of horses.”

“I should say it does! Why, crusty old John detests women anywhere near his stables,” exclaimed Evelyn in awe.

“A triumph indeed, my dear,” said Lady Hortense humorously, raising a general laugh.

Margaret was piqued that Victoria had suddenly become the center of attention, and especially that Lord Damion’s eye should rest so warmly on her. She leaned forward. “I did not realize that you were such an animal enthusiast, Lady Victoria. But I suppose that is a requirement when one is raised in the tail of the army.”

Evelyn reddened and started to rise, but Dorothea stayed him with a firm hand on his arm. “Let our cousin handle Margaret,” she whispered.

Victoria was calm. “Good horseflesh has always been of concern in military circles, Mrs. Giddings, and so to me.”

“Indeed. Your devotion is admirable,” Margaret said with amused superiority. “I would not be at all surprised to learn that you had gone down to the stables even before breakfast. For my part, I could not have swallowed a morsel after tramping through a smelly stable.” She shuddered fastidiously.

“I had quite finished breakfast when Lord Damion offered to show the mare to me,” said Victoria easily. She had the satisfaction of seeing a spark of vivid anger flare in Margaret Giddings’s eyes.

Evelyn relaxed in his chair, grinning. Doro was right, he thought. Cousin Victoria would do. He caught Lord Damion’s eyes on him and immediately asked him what he thought the chances of grouse hunting would be later in the week.

Sir Aubrey’s sharp eyes caught the expression of impotent fury on the Giddings woman’s face. His eyelids drooped and he smiled thinly. “That’s the way of it, then?” he murmured. To Victoria, he said, “I understand that Charles was quite a decent scribbler. He came by the talent naturally, you know, for a number of his forebearers fancied themselves artistic.”

“Quite true,” said Lady Hortense, nodding. “My own grandmother painted. Indeed, there is a rather good portrait that she did of Robert and me as children that is hanging in the long gallery. You must see it one day, Lady Victoria.”

“I should like to very much,” said Victoria, honestly interested.

“1 offered yesterday to show you the portrait gallery and I perceive that my instincts were correct. You are naturally curious about Charles and his family background.” Lord Damion smiled down the table at Victoria.

Margaret lightly touched his arm to regain his attention. “I, too, am fond of portraits, my lord. I would be delighted if you would condescend to treat me to a personal tour.”

“Of course, ma’am. I shall give the grand tour to you and Lady Victoria after luncheon,” Lord Damion said.

Margaret turned her shoulder on him, irritated. She had a sudden inspiration. “Evelyn, why do you not join us? We will make a party of it.” She congratulated herself on her quick wit. Once in the gallery it would be a simple matter to palm off Lady Victoria on Evelyn so that she could have Lord Damion to herself.

Dorothea saw that Evelyn was about to refuse. “You know that you do not care for sitting about, Eve, and that is all I shall do today. Pray don’t refuse on my account, for Aunt Hortense and I shall be quite cozy with our sewing. She is helping me with a christening dress, you know.”

“All right, then,” Evelyn said.

After luncheon the four made their way through a couple of halls into the oldest part of the manor. The long gallery was a drafty room with tall slanting windows on the outside wall. Rows of portraits hung opposite the windows. The visitors’ footsteps and voices echoed.

“I can remember as a boy when the gallery was used for formal balls,” said Lord Damion. “The musicians played at the far end and the dancers filled the room from end to end. Once, the press was so great that several of the windows were opened to let in cooler air.”

“How magnificent it must have been! Would it not be glorious to see the gallery that way again, my lord?” asked Margaret, looking with laughing eyes up into Lord Damion’s face. He returned her smile. She sensed the moment that his gaze dropped to the low front of her gown and breathed deeply, accentuating the swell of her creamy breasts.

“How would you know about the windows being opened, St. Claire?” asked Evelyn with a grin.

Margaret felt a flash of impatience when Lord Damion’s eyes traveled past her to his cousin. “I was in the garden at the time, hiding in a tree where I could watch the party. Imagine my dismay when Lord Robert came out for a breath of air and chose to stop under my tree,” Lord Damion reminisced. “I was naturally petrified and prayed earnestly for the opportunity to regain the safety of my room without discovery.” Evelyn and Victoria burst into laughter.

“How provoking, to be sure,” said Margaret. She slid her hand around Lord Damion’s elbow. “Pray do show me that large portrait, Lord Damion. The gentleman is so fearsomely handsome!” Lord Damion obligingly escorted her toward the portrait indicated, leaving Victoria and Evelyn to follow.

Evelyn grimaced and said softly, “Margaret is truly a wonder to observe. I had heard she is called the Fatal Beauty in London and I now understand why. But I would lay a monkey that St. Claire is too wily to be taken in by her tricks. He has been on the town for years.”

“Mrs. Giddings is certainly beautiful, but why is she called the Fatal Beauty?” asked Victoria.

“The Honorable Peter Giddings was known never to have been ill a day in his life, and yet within a year of marriage to the Beauty he died of apoplexy,” said Evelyn, and with a wicked grin added, “One night while at home with his loving wife. That was when Margaret became known as the Fatal Beauty.”