Forever Mine (10 page)

“And do you expect to find the lady as changed as the rest of my staff do?”

“While I confess to curiosity about her ladyship’s behavior, I believe we both know my presence has always made the lady in question most uncomfortable.”

“You mean rude,” Nicholas snapped. “My wife has always been a self-centered woman who’s cared little for anyone except her own comforts.”

“Which will make it all the more interesting when I come face-to-face with her ladyship.”

Roberts smiled as he lightly scraped shaving cream off the side of Nicholas’ face with the straight razor. There was a mischievous sparkle in the older man’s eye, and Nicholas snorted with soft amusement. If there was any sure way to prove Victoria’s story was false, it was simply to put her in the same room with Roberts. Vickie had always been visibly uncomfortable in the presence of his valet.

Nicholas’ gaze fell on the disfiguring scars covering one side of Robert’s face. Scars the man had earned saving Nicholas from the fire at his paper mill in Lydney shortly after he became the earl. He frowned as he remembered how shortly after their wedding Vickie had insisted he dismiss Roberts simply because she couldn’t bear to look at the man. It was something he’d never do. Roberts had saved his life, and for that the man would always have Nicholas’ loyalty and affection.

§  §  §

More than an hour later, Nicholas headed downstairs. As he passed Victoria’s bedroom, his stride slowed a fraction as he envisioned her in bed with her auburn hair spread out on her pillow. Infuriated with the direction of his thoughts, he uttered a small oath of self-loathing and pushed the image from his mind.

This weekend was supposed to have been nothing more than a quiet visit to the country with Anna and Sebastian for company. He’d simply wanted a reprieve from the gossip and unexpected visits from Scotland Yard. That plan had crumbled into disarray the moment Eleanor overheard him discussing the weekend with Anna. The duchess had seized the moment to enlarge the party, and before he’d realized what was happening, Eleanor had arranged everything.

He was fortunate the gossip columns hadn’t learned of the house party. They would have had him swinging from the garrote for entertaining while his wife was missing. At least that problem had resolved itself, despite Victoria’s unusual return and preposterous tale. Now the only problem to solve was Eleanor Legette, Duchess du Chatelaine.

The woman had been pursuing him for months. He should have discouraged her from the start, but she’d proven amusing company. Still he had no excuse for allowing her to invite herself, the Palmertons, and Charles to Brentwood Park this weekend. He wasn’t an imbecile, he should have ended the weekend before it even began.

Even if he’d
wanted
to make the woman his mistress, he wouldn’t. His wife might not honor her vows, but his honor meant a great deal to him. Liaisons presented a number of dangers. The most treacherous of which was the possibility of a bastard. The thought of siring an heir to his title was horrifying enough. In that respect, Vicki’s liaisons saved him from sharing her bed.

As he reached the foot of the stairs, he heard laughter echoing out of the salon. Nicholas entered the room to see Catherine Dewhurst, Viscountess Palmerton sitting on the loveseat with Anna, while Charles Barrows, Sebastian, and Catherine’s husband, John were pouring drinks at the liquor cabinet. Eleanor’s absence wasn’t surprising as the woman was always late.

“Nicholas, you’re here,” Anna exclaimed as she smiled at him. “We were just discussing Vickie’s return.”

“Victoria.” The automatic response earned him a raised eyebrow from Anna, but his best friend’s wife didn’t question him.

“Anna and Sebastian told us that Vickie showed up out of the blue this morning,” Charles said with amazement.

“One of the farm tenants found Victoria unconscious outside their cottage.” Nicholas nodded as he crossed the floor to the liquor cart and poured himself a brandy.

“Damned peculiar,” Charles said as he shook his head in disbelief.

“Since when did you decide to call her Victoria?” Sebastian asked quietly as he took a drink of brandy.

“When she asked me too.” Nicholas shrugged. Exactly what had prompted him to do as she asked?

“Why on earth would she ask you to call her, Victoria?” Charles snorted disparagingly.

“She says she’s hated the name Vickie since she was a child.” Nicholas frowned and shook his head.

“It’s just damned peculiar, that’s all,” Charles muttered. Sebastian nodded his head as he took a drink of brandy.

“I’m afraid I agree with Charles,” Sebastian murmured quietly. “Tread lightly Nicholas. Whatever she’s up to, I have no doubt it will not be in your favor.”

“I’m sure you’re right, but I did take Anna’s advice, and—”

“Nicholas, you wound me to the quick,
mon cher
. Do you not value my counsel as well?”

Eleanor’s small cry of disappointment forced its way into the conversation, and Nicholas turned to face the petite woman standing in the salon doorway. The woman’s petulant expression annoyed him, but it was his comparison of the hard calculation in Eleanor’s blue eyes to a warm sapphire gaze that irritated him more. He didn’t like making comparisons where Victoria was concerned.

“Anna offered her advice before you arrived. It was sound counsel from a trusted and loyal friend.” Nicholas almost regretted his cold reply as Eleanor flinched as if he’d hit her. A split second later, she’d regained her composure.

“Forgive me
mon cher
, of course, you should value the advice of your friends. I was simply expressing the hope that you hold my friendship in similar regard.” She crossed the room and laid a hand on his arm.

Not about to give the woman any hope, he offered her a brief smile then turned to pour her a glass of Madeira. As if aware he was in a dark mood, Eleanor crossed the floor to take a seat opposite Anna and Catherine. As she accepted her glass, the duchess glanced around the room.

“You really should do something different with this room, Nicholas,” she said with open disdain. “The décor is…”

The color suddenly drained from Eleanor’s face and shock flashed across her pale features followed by a look of such intense fear that it contorted her lovely face into something ugly. Instantly, Nicholas leaned toward her with the intent to ensure she wasn’t unwell. Just as quickly as the horror had appeared on Eleanor’s face, a mask of polite interest covered her features.

Curious as to the reason for Eleanor’s reaction, Nicholas turned his head to see Victoria standing in the salon doorway. The desire he’d experienced earlier returned with the strength of a raging storm. He wasn’t sure what made him angrier, her defiance of his order to stay in bed or his inability to control the need burning its way through his limbs. Nicholas quickly moved toward her, ignoring the twinge of pain that shot through his leg.

“I told you to stay in bed,” he whispered roughly. She looked up at him and smiled. The warmth in her eyes made a knot form in his throat.

“I wasn’t sleepy. Besides, as I recall, you expect me to make a scene. I’d hate to disappoint you.” The amusement in her quiet retort make him want to throttle her and laugh at the same time. The realization startled him. Nicholas grasped her arm and pulled her deeper into the room.

“I believe you’ve met everyone here, except for Eleanor.” He guided Victoria forward to where Eleanor sat. “Victoria, may I present Eleanor Legette, Duchess du Chatelaine. Eleanor, my wife, the Countess of Guildford.”

“Hello,” Victoria said as she extended her hand to Eleanor. With an imperious nod of her head, the duchess ignored Victoria’s outstretched hand.

“Lady Guildford.” It was an obvious effort on Eleanor’s part to gain the upper hand in terms of pecking order. “Forgive me, Nicholas, but wasn’t your wife thought to be dead.”

“I’m sure he wishes I was at the moment,” Victoria murmured, and he glared in her direction.

Her mischievous smile caught him off guard, and he realized she was completely unperturbed by Eleanor’s cold manner. The woman he’d married would never have allowed Eleanor’s behavior to go unremarked upon. What kind of game was she playing? The sound of violent coughing made Nicholas look in Anna’s direction. The sight of his friend struggling not to laugh made him realize she’d overheard Victoria’s blithe comment. He glared at first Anna and then Victoria only to have both women return his glare with unrepentant looks before he turned back to Eleanor.

“As you can see for yourself, Victoria is alive and well.”

“So it would seem,” the duchess snapped, but the fear he’d seen earlier flickered in her cold blue eyes once more.

“Nicholas has told us you’ve lost your memory,” Anna said as she stood up to face Victoria. “I take it you don’t recognize me?”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t.” Victoria shook her head.

“I’m Anna Redding, the Viscountess Starling,” she said as she offered her hand to Victoria.

As the two women shook hands, Anna paled and a brief flash of shock swept over her face. Unless one knew Anna well, it was impossible to detect that shaking Victoria’s hand had upset her. But he’d known Sebastian’s wife for a long time, and Anna was struggling to control her surprise. Anna’s gaze moved from Victoria’s face to seek out her husband’s. Silent exchanges weren’t unusual between the couple, but this was different.

It was almost as if Anna were signaling her husband for help. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sebastian moving quickly to his wife’s side. Despite her disconcerted state, Anna smiled at Victoria. Her hand reached up to touch her husband’s hand as it settled on her shoulder.

“And this handsome devil is my husband, Sebastian.”

“Hello,” Victoria offered her hand to Sebastian who bowed and kissed the back of her hand. Clearly surprised, a warm flush of color rose in her cheeks as she quickly pulled her hand free of Sebastian’s. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought Victoria was unaccustomed to the polite gesture of greeting.

“It must be extremely unsettling for you not having any memory of the past,” Anna said with a soft note of curiosity in her voice.

“Frightening is a better word.” Victoria’s expression grew somber as she bit her lip in a display of distress. Suddenly her face lightened and a smile curved her lips. “Although I think my reputation for having a very unpleasant personality is much more intimidating.”

Anna laughed at Victoria’s confession, and Nicholas saw Sebastian raise his eyebrows before a smile curved his lips. Damnation, the woman was determined to charm everyone she met. God help him if she decided to entice him into her seductive spider web. A part of him acknowledged that he’d already had one foot in that web. With a small sweep of her hand, Anna took charge of making the rest of the introductions.

“How terrible for you,” Catherine exclaimed as she shook Victoria’s hand. “Do you mean to say you don’t remember where you’ve been these past three weeks?”

“Actually I don’t remember anything before waking up in the cottage.”

“I’d venture to say that bruise you have has a great deal to do with your memory loss,” the Viscount Palmerton stated pragmatically as he nodded toward Victoria’s head. John frowned as he studied her head. “Quite a nasty bump you have there.”

Victoria reached up to touch the large bruise and cut on her forehead, and Nicholas quickly caught her hand to stop her from touching the wound. She jerked her gaze toward him and smiled as if understanding he was preventing her from doing further damage to her injury. Something tightened in his gut as he wondered if her changed behavior was related to the blow she’d taken to her head.

All her lies in the past made him unwilling to believe anything she’d said. Instead, he’d simply judged her and condemned her in one fell swoop. What if he was wrong? Nicholas almost snorted at the direction of his thoughts. His wife was simply a skilled actress, and he refused to be taken in by her exceptional performance.

Still, it was impossible not to admire the way she calmly fielded the multitude of questions from his friends. Unexpected concern flooded him as one of Charles’ questions made her flinch. The sudden urge to protect her made him clear his throat and waved his hand in a peremptory fashion.

“I think we should forego any further inquiries for the moment so as not to overtire Victoria.”

“Really, Nicholas, you’re treating your wife as if she were a fragile piece of china, which we all know she isn’t. I’m sure Lady Guildford is far more resilient than you think,
mon cher
.”

Eleanor’s voice rang out in the room as the cacophony of questioning voices ebbed away. The mockery in the duchess’ voice set Nicholas on edge. Whether Victoria was telling the truth or not, she did not deserve to be insulted in her own home. Before he could say a word, a hand touched his arm. Startled he looked down to see Victoria shake her head.

“I’ve never been much for titles, Eleanor, so please call me Victoria.” There was no rancor or sarcasm in her smile as she met the duchess’ imperious gaze. “And you’re right. I
am
far more resilient than Nicholas is willing to admit. But, I’m grateful for his concern. I’m surprised he’s able to tolerate me at all considering my bad reputation.”

Hate and fear filled the venomous look Eleanor cast in Victoria’s direction. He was just about to put himself between the two women when Jamieson appeared in the salon doorway and announced dinner. Everyone looked to Victoria, but she simply stared back in confusion. Anna smiled.

“It’s customary for the hostess to direct which gentleman escorts which lady into dinner, my dear.”

“Oh.” Victoria’s blank look made Nicholas take pity on her.

“Charles, will you take Eleanor into supper? Sebastian if you’ll escort Catherine, John can escort Victoria, and I’ll accompany Anna,” he said. His direction did not make Eleanor happy, but at the moment he could care less. With Anna on his arm, they walked toward the doorway.

“I like her, Nicholas,” his friend murmured. That Anna would say such a thing amazed him. There had never been any love lost between the two women.