Lords of Desire (2 page)

“It is clear you extol convention,” he said smoothly.

Edwina took it as a compliment.

He is mocking her!Every instinct told her that Sir Peregrine was the dark figure she had glimpsed atop the high tower. Though Victoria longed to give him a set-down, she remained passive with downcast eyes. She was secure in the knowledge that the plain girl in the prim dress, with her hair in a severe bun, bore no resemblance to the naked nymph in the River Rother.

When they sat down to dinner, their host gallantly held Edwina’s chair and Victoria was glad that he apparently found her invisible. She hid her amusement when she tasted the soup and found it was liberally laced with cream and sherry.

“May I inquire what you do for pleasure, Reverend?”

“Tory’s passion is history and mine is painting, Sir.”

Edwina almost choked on her soup. She pressed her lips together and reprimanded,

“Passionis an unsuitable word in mixed company, Edmund, and I prefer you call your sister Victoria. Life is not for pleasure; it is for duty and obedience.”

You do not believe that, do you, Tory? Meekness does not sit well with you. I warrant that Tory and passion go hand in hand. When I first walked into the room, I thought there had been a mistake. I was convinced you were not the same female I followed to the priory.Peregrine smiled.Your disguise is clever, quite cunning enough to deceive the venerable Edwina, and artful enough to give you a false sense of security.

“I have always discouraged my son from painting,” Edwina confided. “People with artistic natures are invariably unstable. Fortunately, Edmund shows no aptitude.”

Victoria’s dark lashes flew up. “His paintings of Bodiam Castle are magnificent!” An awkward silence descended and she quickly lowered her lashes.

As the soup plates were removed and the game course placed before his guests, Peregrine sat bemused behind his mask of indifference.Her eyes are the color of pale violets in the snow. All shades of purple denote passion. I know your secrets, Tory! “If you love history, Bodiam must fascinate you. I invite you to come one day and explore the castle.”

“Thank you,” Victoria murmured.He’s using Bodiam as bait. He’s fully aware how tempting it is. He wants me to return for a tour so he can control me, but I prefer to see it now!

Tory ate most of her food, then placed her linen napkin on the table. “Please excuse me.”

She moved her chair back and arose.

Peregrine stood politely and signaled the maid. The uniformed woman curtsied to Victoria and led her from the room. The host resumed his seat and after a moment spoke to Edwina in a confidential manner. “I am most impressed with your daughter, madam.

She has a modest, self-effacing demeanor that appeals.”

Edwina simpered with pride. “Victoria is a most biddable girl. My insistence upon impeccable behavior has resulted in virtue and chastity, which, though exceedingly rare, are only right and proper in a maiden.”

“I would like your permission to pay my addresses to her.”

“Sir Peregrine, I would be delighted. You do us great honor.”

When Victoria and the maid came to a stone staircase, Tory spoke up firmly. “I prefer to manage on my own, thank you.”

“Very good, Miss. I’ll just wait here.”

Tory ran lightly up the steps, turned, and went down a long passageway that looked neglected. She passed occasional brackets holding rush lights that seemed to illuminate wisps of fog that had crept inside. There were a couple of narrow openings in the stone walls, but the pitch-black rooms beyond held no temptation. Victoria shuddered and then she heard music. Drawn by the sounds of instruments and laughter, she found herself walking along what could only be described as a minstrels’ gallery.

She looked down in amazement at a group of people who had obviously gathered for a party. “It’s a fancy-dress ball!” The men wore powdered wigs, satin breeches, and brilliantly hued brocaded vests and coats. It was the women, however, who drew Victoria’s eye. Their wigs were adorned with jeweled ostrich feathers; their gowns were not only beautiful but also extremely risqué, designed to deliberately display the women’s upthrust breasts.

Tory was shocked, yet for one moment she pictured herself in such a glorious gown. The scene below was exactly as it would have been a century ago in Georgian times. As she watched, she realized their behavior was beyond vulgar as they openly flirted and touched each other in inappropriate places.

Her shock slowly turned to anger. “That brute Fuller is throwing a party. His dinner invitation to the Reverend’s family is a clever subterfuge to cover up the licentious goings-on at Bodiam. I warrant he cannot wait to be rid of us!”

Her anger made her feel dizzy and she put a hand to her head to steady herself. Victoria turned away from the revelers below and went back the way she had come. She became slightly disoriented and it was a few minutes before she found herself in the familiar passageway that had led her to this part of the castle. Finally, with thudding heart, she located the stone staircase and descended the steps. The maid awaited her as she had promised, and the pair returned to the dining room.

Sir Peregrine and Edmund rose to their feet until she was seated, and Victoria saw they had awaited her return before dessert was served. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured.

“Not at all,” their host said smoothly.

The dessert was trifle, Victoria’s favorite. Perversely, she didn’t want any. Without raising her lashes, she spoke to her mother. “I’m afraid I have a dreadful headache.” It wasn’t a total lie; she did feel strangely light-headed.

Edwina pursed her lips. “Manners, Victoria, manners!”

Manners? Swine have none!

“If Mistress Carswell has a headache, I insist you take her home immediately. I hope we can have dinner again soon.”

There, you swine! I knew you’d find a way to be rid of us.Though she had invented the headache so she could leave, she laid the blame squarely at his door.

As Sir Peregrine accompanied them through the neglected Great Hall to the front entrance, he gave his polite attention to Edwina’s incessant stream of words. Victoria took the opportunity to study the dark male who towered beside them. She saw that he had a birthmark that slanted down his cheek from ear to chin. He had tried to cover it by growing fashionable sideburn whiskers, but all they did was emphasize his dangerous, rakish look.

Sir Peregrine took Edwina’s cloak from the servant and helped her into it. He did not extend the same courtesy to Victoria. A shiver ran down her back when she thought of his hands touching her. She did not know if she felt relief or disappointment.

On the short carriage ride home, Victoria apologized for leaving the room during dinner, but the outrage she expected from her mother did not come.

“Your absence gave Sir Peregrine and I the opportunity to speak freely and come to an understanding,” Edwina declared.

“About me?” Tory asked in shocked disbelief.

“We’ll speak of it in the morning, when your headache is gone.”

Her mother bade her good night and went upstairs, but Victoria waited for Edmund to come from the stable. With a finger to her lips, she beckoned her brother into the parlor.

“When I left the table, what exactly did Mother and Fuller say about me?”

“Our host told Mother he was most impressed with you, and that your modest, self-effacing demeanor appealed to him.”

“I did play the part rather well. What did Mother say?”

“She said you were a biddable girl, then told him your virtue and chastity were only right and proper in a maiden.”

Tory covered her mouth so her laughter wouldn’t bubble out.

“Sir Peregrine asked if he could pay his addresses to you.”

Her laughter turned to dismay. “Damnation, I played my parttoo well!”

“Mother said she would be delighted and honored.”

“Hell and Furies! I should never have left the room to go exploring. Still, if I hadn’t, I’d never have known the dissolute devil was throwing a party in another part of the castle.

The guests wore Georgian costumes and the atmosphere wasbawdy .”

Her brother looked at her oddly. “Are you sure?”

“I’m not daft, Edmund. I know what I saw. Why do you think he got rid of us so quickly?”

“We left because of your headache.”

“I don’t have a headache!”

“Good night, Tory.” Female logic was too much for him.

It took a long time for Tory to fall asleep. Sir Peregrine Palmer Fuller was not the nonentity she had expected. On the contrary, the man was extremely compelling. She was highly offended that he wished to forge an association with her as a stratagem to acquire respectability in the eyes of the people of Hawkhurst. Before she met him, she assumed he desired the social connection to distance himself from Mad Jack’s reputation, but now she knew it was to cover his own dissolute activities.

I shall decline every invitation!

As she drifted to the edge of sleep, she fancied herself in an elegant ballroom wearing a gown with scandalousdécolletage . She flirted outrageously from behind her fan as she decided which of a dozen escorts to favor with a dance. She raised her lashes and looked full into the eyes of a dark man, with a powerful build and a strong face, whose manner had more than a hint of dominance.

CHAPTER 2

“A note has been delivered from Sir Peregrine Fuller addressed to the Honorable Victoria Carswell. If it is an invitation to view Bodiam in daylight, as I expect, Edmund may chaperone you.” Edwina handed her daughter the letter with every intention of reading it once the seal was broken.

“If it is an invitation to Bodiam, I shall decline it.” Tory was in the library, where she was allowed to spend an hour each afternoon. She set her book down and opened the letter.

“You selfish girl! You will do no such discourteous thing. This is the first gentleman of means who has shown any interest in you. Spinsters and beggars cannot be choosers and you could soon be both if we do not find you a suitable match.” Edwina plucked the invitation from Tory’s fingers and read it. “For the benefit of your family, you will accept with grace and gratitude.”

“Yes, Mama,” Victoria acquiesced quietly.

“What are you reading?”

“It’s a history of Sussex.”

Edwina swooped upon the book and confiscated it. As she scanned the pages, she gasped with horror. “It is a book about smugglers and criminal activities. Surely you didn’t find this book on the shelves of your father’s library?”

“Yes, it’s one of Father’s history books. Smuggling was rampant along the Sussex coast in the last century.”

“’Tis no fit subject for a lady!” Edwina threw it on the fire. “Do something productive….

Reply to Sir Peregrine’s invitation.”

The moment her mother closed the library door, Tory snatched up the poker and, with her heart in her mouth, prodded the book from the flames onto the tiled hearth. She stomped out the smoldering edges and cleaned up the bits of charred paper with pan and brush.

This book is precious. A century ago, the people here in Hawkhurst were up to their necks in smuggling. When the export of wool was illegal, Sussex men secretly shipped wool to Calais. After that they smuggled in brandy from France, tea from India, and silks from China. How romantic and exciting it must have been to go on a smuggling run!

Tory hid the book behind a religious treatise on the top shelf and sighed with resignation as her eye fell on the invitation. She sat down at the desk, took a sheet of parchment, and dipped the pen in the inkwell. Mutiny stirred in her soul. Though she longed to explore Bodiam Castle, she was determined to discourage Fuller from seeking an alliance with her. She threw down the pen.

I shall answer Sir Peregrine in person. That way I can visit Bodiam, refuse his invitation, and squelch, once and for all, any pretended interest the conniving swine has in me.

Victoria folded the invitation and slipped it into her silk bag. She put on her cloak, firmly tied the black ribbons of her bonnet beneath her chin, and slipped out the priory’s back door. As she walked along a footpath that led to the castle, Tory took delight in the profusion of Canterbury bells, larkspur, and wild roses that bloomed in the hedgerows.

As she crossed the narrow bridge and looked down into the moat, the white, purple, and pink shades of the water lilies filled her with joy.

When she pulled on a ship’s bell beside the portcullis, a servant appeared and raised the gate. He looked at her askance, so she said blithely, “I’m here at Sir Peregrine’s invitation.”

Tory followed the man to the Great Hall; he took her cloak and bonnet and asked her to wait. The minute she was alone she walked the perimeter of the chamber, taking in every dank detail. It had a sadly neglected air; its high windows were dirty and broken, with some even boarded up. It lacked furnishings of any sort and its gaping, empty fireplaces were blackened with soot. The wooden dais had splintered boards. Decay from disuse was apparent everywhere.

“Mistress Carswell, what a delightful surprise.”

Tory whirled about at the sound of the deep, masculine voice.

He waved his hand. “Bodiam is in deplorable condition, I’m afraid. All needs to be repaired and refurbished.”

“That will take a deal of tender loving care, not to mention a fortune, Sir Peregrine.”

His dark eyes lit with amusement. “Fortunately, I have both.”

“You also have—”

He held up his hand. “Please allow me to show you more hospitality than Bodiam’s Great Hall affords. I have only refurbished a couple of small chambers. Let us repair to my sitting room.” He led the way and Victoria followed to a small chamber adjacent to the dining room they had used two days ago. Its stone walls were hung with tapestries, the flagstones were covered by a deep-piled carpet, and comfortable brocaded chairs and settees were arranged in front of a small stone fireplace.

“You were saying?” he prompted.

Tory lifted her chin. “You also have bald-faced effrontery.”

His dark eyes glittered. “I warrant you are about to explain.”

“The only possible reason you can have for inviting my family to dinner and wishing to pay your addresses to me is to lend yourself a veneer of respectability. You believe an alliance with the straitlaced daughter of the Right Reverend Thomas Carswell will provide a smoke screen for your profligate pleasures.” She paused for dramatic effect, then delivered the coup de grâce. “Sorry to disappoint you, Sir Peregrine, but I am neither prim nor proper!”