Forever Mine (25 page)

“How do you feel?” His touch gentle, Nicholas brushed a lock of hair off her cheek.

“A bit woozy. Did I faint again?”

“Yes, but only for a minute,” he murmured as he glanced at the canvas on the easel.

Her gaze followed Nicholas’. The painting. It was almost finished, but it was the one from the London art gallery. She was certain of it. A shiver raced through her as a detailed image of the gallery filled her head. She tried to remember more, but it only intensified the terrible pressure in her head. She pressed the palm of her hand into her brow in an effort to stop the pain.

“Is the lady all right, sir?” The artist asked.

“Yes, I’m feeling much better,” Victoria answered the question before Nicholas could.

“Better or not, when we return to the house you’re to take a nap.”

“You like to boss people around a lot, don’t you?” she said with annoyance. A half smile curved his mouth but he refused to take her bait.

“Edmund, stay with Victoria. I’ll bring the cart around.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m not an invalid. I can walk.”

“I think it best—”

“I
said
I can walk,” she snapped as she felt her strength returning.

Nicholas eyed her sternly, but when she scowled at him, he reluctantly nodded. With Edmund’s help, Nicholas helped Victoria to her feet. He wrapped his arm about her waist, and the simple gesture reinforced her belief that he would always protect her. Edmund’s gray eyes filled with worry, he moved to support her elbow opposite Nicholas. As they walked away, Victoria took one last look at the painting. It was hers. She knew it as sure as she was breathing. It meant she wasn’t going insane.

§  §  §

Victoria jerked upright in bed with a cry of fear. Trembling, she stared at her surroundings and recognized her bedroom at Brentwood Park. She closed her eyes as the remnants of the now familiar nightmare filled her head. The awful sound of a shovel scraping dirt, the earth splattering across her and the countess’ blue dress, and the inability to breathe.

She swung her legs off the mattress and sat still for a moment. When they’d returned to the house, Nicholas had followed through with his insistence she take a nap by escorting her to her bedroom. Although she’d protested, she admitted his command had been a sound one. Other than the receding fear from her nightmare, she was feeling a lot better.

Victoria went to the window to stare out at the landscape. Brentwood Park was one of the most beautiful places she’d ever seen. It would be easy to spend the rest of her life here. The thought startled her as she suddenly realized her priority of going home had changed dramatically. The idea of remaining in the past was a troublesome one. She would have to continue living a lie.

She wasn’t the real Countess of Guildford, and if anyone discovered Vickie was dead the real nightmare would begin. Closing her eyes, Victoria drew in a quick breath then released it. The most problematic issue of staying here was Nicholas. Not only did the man send her senses into overdrive, but she liked him. His actions indicated he was a good man. Even when it was clear he believed she was the wife he despised, he’d taken care of her. Then there was Edmund. Nicholas loved his brother. The fact that he’d brought Edmund back from Italy to live with him said Nicholas was a man of integrity.

It was obvious by the loyalty of his staff and friends, that he was kindhearted and a man of honor. He was a man her father would’ve liked. The memory of her father sent a wave of grief cresting through her. His absence was simply a reminder that there was no reason to go back to her time period. Her mother had died when she was a baby, and she had no siblings. She had friends, but their lives would easily go on without her. She leaned her head against the window frame and focused her gaze on the pastures surrounding the manor.

The sun was slowly sinking toward the horizon, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before Molly came to help her dress for dinner. On a distant knoll, Victoria saw two riders who were resting their horses. They were small shapes against the horizon, but a small voice in the back of her mind said they didn’t belong there.

Victoria looked over her shoulder at the door of Nicholas’ room. Maybe it would be a good idea to tell him about the riders. She turned back to the window, and an uneasy feeling washed over her the moment she saw the riders were gone. It was nothing, she reassured herself. If she kept expecting the worst or
seeing
things, Nicholas would have no other choice but to commit her to an asylum.

With a frown she turned away from the window. Her gaze fell on the secretaire, and she remembered how she’d been keeping a diary of her trip to England. It might be helpful if she kept a journal of events that happened here. It might even help her figure out how she’d gotten here. Victoria sat down at the desk and opened the lid. Inside the desk were a number of thin journals. Most of them were filled with comments about dresses, social events, gossip, and household matters.

Victoria quickly sorted through the thin volumes until she found an empty journal. She opened it to the first page and picked up the fountain pen. As Victoria wrote, the tension inside her slowly ebbed away. There was something cathartic about putting her thoughts on paper. A long while later, Victoria realized she’d filled more than a quarter of the journals pages with her thoughts.

A quiet knock sounded on her door, and she hastily pushed her journal into the dark recesses of the secretaire. The last thing she wanted was for someone to read the diary. She’d be deemed certifiable. As she closed the desk’s lid, she called out for the visitor to enter. She turned her head to see Nicholas walk into the room. Startled by his appearance, she quickly stood up, and her stomach lurched at the charm in his smile.

“You’re feeling better.” It was just as much a statement as a question.

“Yes, thank you.” She nodded. “Is Edmund all right. I could tell he was upset.”

“He’s been worried, but understands you simply fainted and needed rest.” Nicholas paused for a brief second then cleared his throat. “He’s not the only one who’s been concerned.”

“Oh.” An awkward silence fell between them before she smiled. “As you can see, I’m feeling much better now.”

Victoria cringed inside as her attempt to appear unaffected by his presence fell short. Almost as if he knew he’d made her uncomfortable, his mouth quirked in a small smile before his expression sobered.

“You recognized the painting earlier.”

“Yes.” She winced as her headache abruptly returned. It had only troubled her briefly while she was writing in her journal, but now the pain had grown sharp again. “It’s my painting.”

“Your painting?”

“Yes,” Victoria said as her headache grew worse. “It’s the one I bought in the art gallery.”

“There must be another explanation, Victoria. The painting wasn’t even dry.” Disbelief filled his voice.

“I’m telling you, it’s the painting I bought in the art gallery,” she snapped then moaned softly.

“You have another headache.” At his question, she nodded. A frown darkened his face. “These spells seem to occur only when you’re thinking about the past and the time you were missing. For the time being, I believe we’ll forego any further discussion on this matter.”

“Fine,” she said with frustration at his inability to believe her. Nicholas must have realized she was annoyed as he smiled.

“I came to ask if you would like to join Edmund and me for supper.” His gaze locked with hers, and her pulse immediately took off like a rabbit racing for safety.

“That would be nice,” she said as she relaxed slightly. “I’m sure it will reassure Edmund that I’m quite well when he sees me.”

“Affirmation he has refused to accept from me,” Nicholas said in an ironic tone of voice. “Come.”

“But aren’t you… we…changing for supper?”

“It’s unnecessary this evening since it will only be the three of us.”

“All right,” she said as he moved to hold the door open for her. Just as she was about to pass through the door, Nicholas bent his head toward her, his warm breath singeing her ear.

“And you look delectable no matter what you wear…or don’t wear.”

The suggestive words made her cheeks burn, and she jerked her gaze up to meet his. Amusement and a wickedly seductive flame flashed in his green eyes as he stared down at her. With her heart racing, Victoria stepped out into the hallway and walked toward the stairs. Self-preservation urged her to run away as fast as she could, but she stubbornly refused to let him know how much his words had made her senses reel.

Nicholas easily caught up with her, but didn’t speak as they made their way down the main stairs and to the dining room. The moment Edmund saw her, he was on his feet and hurrying toward her. He stopped in front of her and studied her carefully.

“Are you all right, Victoria?” The concern in his voice touched her heart.

“Yes. I’m fine. In fact, we could take a walk in the gardens tomorrow if you like?”

“You won’t feel bad then?” Edmund asked, and as she shook her head, he grinned. “All right. That would be fun.”

Edmund stepped forward and gave her a gentle hug as if he were worried he might hurt her. Victoria returned the hug then encouraged him to take his seat at the table. Uncertain where to sit so Nicholas’ effect on her senses was limited, Victoria chose the chair opposite Edmund. Although she’d be in close proximity to Nicholas, at least she wouldn’t be making a lot of eye contact for the entire meal. Before she could pull out her chair, Nicholas was there first. The moment she was seated, his fingertips grazed the back of her neck. She stiffened, but didn’t look at him. Lord, the man was making it difficult to think clearly. In an effort to slow her racing pulse, she smiled at Edmund.

“Did you… did you enjoy our picnic this afternoon?” she asked Edmund, eager to put some distance between her and the feelings Nicholas aroused in her.

“Yep,” he replied before his expression fell. “But I didn’t like the man who painted. He made you sad.”

“I wasn’t upset with the artist, Edmund.” Victoria shook her head. “His painting brought back—bad memories.”

“Oh,” Edmund said quietly before his expression brightened with a sudden look of understanding. Beside his brother, Nicholas snapped his napkin open and laid it in his lap.

“Speaking of that artist, I met with him while you were sleeping.” Nicholas’ tapered fingers drummed lightly against the linen tablecloth. Startled, she jerked her gaze up to his.

“Why?” she asked with a puzzled frown.

“I wanted to review more of his work. He’s quite talented, and I’ve asked him to paint your portrait.”

“
What
?” she gaped at him.

“It’s time your portrait hung in the salon.”

“But I don’t—”

“The subject is not up for debate. I’ll not be swayed in this, Victoria.” The arrogant statement made her glare at him.

“You know, you get your way far too often.” Uncertain whether to feel annoyed or amused at his self-satisfied expression, Victoria narrowed her eyes at him. He merely smiled.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he responded. Victoria rolled her eyes at him before she looked down at her plate.

Throughout the meal, Victoria gave thanks for Edmund’s presence. She doubted she would have been able to match wits with Nicholas without his brother present. When supper was over, Edmund bid the two of them good night and left the dining room. Alone with Nicholas, she met his searching gaze for a moment before placing her napkin next to her plate.

“How do you usually spend your evenings when you’re not entertaining guests?” she asked, hoping to avoid any flirtations she might not be able to control.

“Sometimes my estate clerk has papers for me to review or I’ll read a book.”

“Then you won’t mind if I get a book from your library?”

“I didn’t say I
always
do those things.” He smiled at her with a hint of amusement. “I just elaborated on how I generally spend my evenings alone. But I’m not alone am I. Perhaps you would like to play cribbage.”

“I’m not very good at it.” She shook her head at the suggestion before making one of her own. “You have a chess set?”

“God in heaven, woman.” He threw back his head with a shout of laughter. “What makes you think you can play chess?”

“If you’ll recall, you didn’t think I could ride either.” Bristling, she glowered at him.

“Very well, but be forewarned, I’ll not grant you any quarter.”

“Then put your money where your mouth is,” she snapped. “If you win, I’ll agree not to make a fuss about this damn portrait you’re so determined to have done.”

“No, I think I’ll have your agreement to two portraits
then
I’ll accept your wager.”

“
Two
? You said one just a few moments ago.”

“Now, I wish to have two. One for the library and a second one for my personal enjoyment.” He leaned back in his chair and took a sip of wine from his glass studying her over the rim.

“What’s this second portrait supposed to be like?” Whatever he was up too, she knew her pride wouldn’t allow her to avoid his trap. Besides, she was good at chess, which meant she had the element of surprise on her side. Nicholas smiled and set his glass down on the table.

“I told you this morning that I wanted a portrait of you wrapped in a sheet, as if you’d just woken up in my bed. This new portrait would be for
my
viewing pleasure only, of course.” The seductive quality of his voice sent a shiver down Victoria’s spine as she stared at him speechlessly, while a smile touched his mouth.

“Well? Are you afraid you’ll lose?” The cocky note in his voice made Victoria glare at him.

“You’re on,” she snapped. “If I win, I don’t have to do either of the portraits. If I lose, then I agree to do both of them without any argument. Now where’s the damn board.”

“In the library,” he murmured with satisfaction. The confidence in his smile only irritated her more, as she walked with him to the drawing room. She gritted her teeth with determination.

More than an hour later, the two of them studied the chessboard in silence. The board held just a few key pieces, and Victoria tried to stifle her sense of triumph as she reached out and moved her queen into position. One more move and his king would be hers for the taking. She held her breath as she waited for Nicholas to take his turn. With a decisive moment, he slid his bishop across the board, and she smiled with elation.