A Scandalous Arrangement (33 page)

“She’s always pleased to see Horace. What is happening? Are they coming in?” Victoria handed her mousse-sharing duties over to their maid, straightened and started to make her way between the tight-packed chairs to reach the window alcove.

“Why is she hugging that man? Do we know him?” This from Georgina.

Unease stirred somewhere deep in Victoria’s stomach. Julia did not give hugs lightly, and not to strangers, not in any circumstances. “Let me see.” She squeezed around the back of the sofa to reach the window.

Hester turned to face her. “You can’t see them now. They are coming up the front steps. Violet will let them in.” She handed Harry back to his mother. “I’m going to find a washcloth—we might yet remove some of that grime.”

Victoria gave her son a quick squeeze and buried her nose in his fine, blond hair. She never tired of the sweet fragrance of her little boy
. Do all babies smell so wonderful?

The scream from the hallway brought all party proceedings to an abrupt halt. In silence, all eyes were fixed on the door.

Hester was the first to recover herself. “What the…?” She started across the room.

The door burst open and Julia hurtled into the drawing room. She glared at Victoria, her small body bristling with fury.

“You lied to me,” she shrieked. “You said my papa was dead. But he isn’t. He’s here, and now I’ll have to move again.”

She spun on her heel and ran from the room. In the stunned stillness that followed the only sound was that of Julia’s clogs clattering up the stairs, then her bedroom door rattling on its hinges as she slammed it behind her.

“What? Who?” Victoria stumbled toward the door, intent on going after Julia. She reached the hallway and made straight for the stairs.

“Victoria.”

The deep, familiar voice halted her in her tracks. Hugging Harry tight to her chest, she slowly turned, then let out a small cry as her knees started to buckle. Adam reached her in a moment and caught her in his arms. He held her, their baby between them.

The sound of voices was a distant buzzing in her ears, indistinct, and muffled. Reeling from the shock, confused, hardly daring to hope yet dreading what seemed to be unfolding, Victoria buried her face in her baby’s tiny tweed Knickerbocker suit. Harry was her rock in a tilting world, the one certainty she could hang on to when all else dissolved into chaos.

“Good Lord!” Her mother’s voice rose above the rest, shocked, disbelieving.

“Adam? Is it you? Really you?” Violet too sounded incredulous.

Footsteps, people were crowding out into the hallway, voices, babble. Victoria clung to her baby, and to the rough wool jacket of the man whose arms still held her, supported her. She would surely be reduced to a crumpled heap on the tiled floor if he ever let go of her.

“Yes, Violet, it’s me. You look well. You too, Mrs. Wynne. I hope I have not spoilt the party by arriving unannounced.”

“I imagine whenever you had arrived we would have been shocked to see you. This is a truly wondrous surprise, Mr. Luke.” Hester Wynne was managing to string a few sensible words together. Victoria wondered if she might manage to do likewise.

“Adam? I…” No, apparently not. She tightened her grip on his lapel.

Hester took up the strain. “I daresay there is an intriguing explanation for this unexpected turn of events, Mr. Luke, and I look forward to hearing it. But if you would excuse me, I think we should see to Julia just now. The child has had a shock too. Violet, perhaps you and I could…”

Violet was quick to agree. “Of course, yes. The poor child must be utterly confused. I know I am.”

Victoria listened to the clattering of heels as the pair of them dashed up the stairs in the wake of the startled child. Still she could not bring herself to look again into Adam’s face, familiar, always remembered, yet so different somehow from when last she saw him. The man she waved off from her doorstep two years ago had been a wealthy businessman, urbane, sophisticated, the epitome of male elegance and style. This man was—different, leaner, and harder. His hair was longer, his skin tanned. Her first startled impression had been that he looked older, tougher if that was possible, more powerful perhaps. He had a look of a man who had seen life—and not always from a flattering angle.

“Victoria?” His question held a wealth of meaning. Victoria picked up on just one.

“I love you.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I love you too, my darling. But we have much to discuss.”

She could only nod, her tears now flowing unrestrained into Harry’s hair. The baby himself seemed utterly calm, the only one among those assembled who might lay claim to such a state.

Adam bent to murmur into her ear. “You have guests. I wonder, is there anywhere…?”

“The library. It will be quiet in there.”

“Excellent choice. If you would all excuse us, please…” He draped an arm around Victoria and turned her in the direction of the library. The party guests shifted to allow them unrestricted passage along the hallway.

Adam closed the library door behind them and took the risk of releasing Victoria from his embrace. She stood before him, reasonably steady if not entirely composed.

“May I?” He held out his hands.

“What?”

“The baby. His name is Harry, I gather?”

“What? Oh, yes. I named him for my father. His middle name was Harold.”

“An excellent choice. May I hold him?”

“Why?”

“You know why, Victoria. He is mine, is he not?”

“He is mine. I always said so.”

“Ours then. I would love to meet Harry properly, if I may?”

Still reluctant, Victoria relinquished the small, squirming body into Adam’s arms. “His middle name is Luke. I thought it seemed—proper.”

Adam smiled. “Harry Luke Wynne. That has a good ring to it.” He turned his attention to the baby. “Hello, little man. Will you and I become great friends then?”

Harry gazed back at him, his stare direct, his curiosity undisguised, in that way only small children can get away with. He stopped wriggling and reached up a hand to grab at his father’s chin. Adam laughed out loud as the tiny fingers poked at his face, exploring by touch as well as sight.

“He is a fine boy. You must be very proud of him.”

“I am.”

“As I am too. I am pleased you got what you wanted. Has it been hard?”

She did not pretend to misunderstand. “At times. There were some raised eyebrows when it became obvious around the town that I was expecting a baby, but I chose to ignore them. We all did. There will have been speculation, but no one so far has had the temerity to confront me directly on the matter. My mother knows the full story, of course, and she and Georgina have been wonderful. And, I had Julia to look after so I had no time to dwell on what others might think.”

“Ah, yes. I owe you my thanks. I had intended to talk to you, to explain about my daughter.”

“I confess she came as something of a surprise to me, since I had understood you to be a bachelor.”

He tipped his chin in the direction of their son. “I doubt my approach to parenthood is any more unorthodox than yours, my dear. I do owe you an explanation though.”

“That will not be necessary. Violet was kind enough to share with us what she knew, about Charlotte.” Victoria stiffened her shoulders as an unwelcome thought occurred to her. “I assume I will no longer be Julia’s guardian, now that you have returned.”

Still holding her son, Adam met her gaze. “That would be the logical conclusion, I suppose.”

“Do you intend to remove her from here? I ask because I do not believe that would be in her best interests. And now that Violet is with us…”

“Ah, yes. I had not expected to find my sister-in-law here. Is she visiting? For Julia’s birthday perhaps?”

“No, Violet lives here now. Her marriage is not, has not been…”

“Good. I detested that man. You were absolutely correct to bring Julia here and I am grateful that you took both she and Violet into your home. It was more than I expected, more than I could have hoped for. Had I returned from America as I expected to, I intended to bring her to live with me rather than allow that greedy little weasel any part in bringing her up.”

“I see. And now? Do you have plans for her? She is quite settled here…”

“I know she is, I can see it. Horace tells me you have been most kind to her, though he has expressed concerns about her education. I confess, I was somewhat taken aback by her appearance.”

“I can explain that—”

“I have no doubt of it. Please do not misunderstand me, I am not taking issue with your approach. My daughter is well, and she is safe, and from what little I have seen so far she is happy—”

The door burst open to admit the daughter in question. Julia marched into the room, closely pursued by Hester and Violet. “I’m glad you have come home safe, papa. I missed you and I did not want you to be dead. But I do not want to go back to Portsmouth. Neither does aunt Violet. We live here now, with Victoria and nana Wynne. I go to school, and I have Seth. You may visit us here, if you like.” She tossed her head as she delivered that final concession, her tone imperious though the impact may have been diminished to some extent by the streak of machine oil still adorning her right cheek.

Her father gazed at Julia. Victoria found his expression unreadable, though her own admittedly limited experience of Adam Luke had been that defiance was not usually the best tactic to adopt with him.

He furrowed his brow at his daughter. “Seth?”

More chin-tilting. “He is my best friend.”

“Ah, a child at your school, I assume.” He directed the question at Victoria.

“No, he is… She means Seth Ackroyd, my chief engineer.”

Now Adam did seem perplexed. “Seth Ackroyd? Yes, of course, I remember the man. But surely he is…”

“I am his apprentice.” Again, Julia injected the details in her normal forthright manner.

Adam looked from his daughter to the three women who faced him, each as anxious as the next. Still holding Harry in his arms, he sought out a chair and sank into it. He looked up at Victoria. “Am I to understand you have apprenticed my daughter to an engineer? She is employed maintaining the machinery in your mill?”

“Not employed exactly. I…” Victoria started, but he forestalled any explanation with one uplifted hand, a gesture she found achingly familiar.

“No, please. It has been a difficult day, for all of us. I don’t suppose you could lay your hands on a decent bottle of brandy, could you? I believe we could all do with some.”

* * *

One hour, and half a decanter of fine Napoleon cognac later, Adam had shared with them the story of his last two years, or at least the portion of it he knew. He had little detailed recollection of the period after he was tossed into the water by a towering wave and found himself clinging to a floating barrel as the storm raged around him. He did not see the
Luciana
capsize, though he did recall hearing the shouts of other survivors, and he remembered spotting the rescue ships in the distance as he drifted further and further from the site of the wreck. He was floating in and out of consciousness, adrift and with no idea in which direction he was floating. His memories only became solid and clear from the moment he opened his eyes on Amos’ beach.

His story complete, and after he was suitably updated on the events in England during the time he had been away, Adam politely requested that Hester, Violet, Georgina, Horace, and Julia leave him and Victoria alone.

“I thank you all for your help in apprising me of the events of the last two years. Now, there remain some issues to be settled between Victoria and myself.”

He thought Mrs. Wynne might protest, but she did not. On the contrary, she led the rest from the room. “Quite so. Please ring if you require anything—food perhaps, or a tray of tea. Or another decanter…” The group trooped out of the library, leaving Victoria and Adam seated in her father’s high-backed, velvet-covered wing chairs. The pair faced each other in an uneasy silence.

Victoria was the first to speak. “Thank you for agreeing to allow Julia to remain here, with us.”

“It is clearly the right thing to do. The best place for her. I confess the notion of my daughter as an apprentice engineer is not one I find easy to reconcile, but I daresay I will become accustomed to the idea in time.”

“She may grow out of her obsession.” Victoria felt compelled to offer some shred of comfort, as he was being so accommodating about the entire matter.

“Maybe. I will not hold my breath.”

Julia’s future settled, Victoria allowed several more minutes of silence to elapse before blurting out the concern now uppermost in her mind. “The mill is mine. I appreciate your will is probably void, since you are not dead, but I will contest any attempt by you to reclaim it. I am prepared to offer you a generous payment, by way of compensation…”

“That will not be necessary. I would have turned it over to you soon enough in any case.”

“But, our arrangement…?”

“Ah, yes, our arrangement. Now that is what I really wanted to discuss with you.”

“I see.”

“Victoria, you must realise…”

“I am happy to resume our previous… relationship.”

He lifted one eyebrow in a manner she found disconcertingly familiar. “You are? May I ask why, since the mill is no longer an issue for you? And you have your son.”

She hesitated, appeared to be struggling to find the correct words. “I found what you did, what
we
did—fulfilling. And more than a little exciting. I missed it. I missed you, I mean.”

“Exciting? And fulfilling? Is this the slut talking, Victoria?”

“
Your
slut, sir.” How easily she slid back into the old habit, Victoria thought. How natural it seemed, even after his long absence.

“It would be different…”

“I believe it might be better, sir, since there would be no ambiguity between us. This would not be business, it would be personal. Only that. I appreciate that you may have other… partners, but—”

“No others, Victoria.”