Sebastian stood motionless, his eyes affixed on the gardens outside. It was a bright day, however, in stark contrast to the clear autumn sky, her heart lay bare and bruised. Like the spindly branches of decaying leaves that remained on the autumn trees, it seemed to die a little more with each moment of silence that separated Victoria and her eldest brother.
“How could I hurt you by admitting that the younger sister for whom you sacrificed so much did something so unspeakable?”
She studied her brother, aware that tears were making a slow descent down his cheeks. He remained silent, though, and that spoke volumes.
Victoria had lost him forever.
It was her own fault.
“I failed you,” she whispered, gently wiping his cheek with the pads of her fingertips. “I will always regret that.”
Victoria stood on her tiptoes and kissed her brother’s damp cheek. “I am blessed to have you as my brother, Sebastian. Thank you for being so kind to me. I don’t deserve you.”
Blinking back tears, Tori grabbed her reticule from his desk and hurried towards the door.
“I blame myself,” Sebastian said, his jagged voice brimming with remorse.
Victoria paused, her hand resting on the cool gilded doorknob. “My actions, my lack of self-restraint, are my sole responsibility. Not yours,” she assured him.
“I should have predicted this,” he released a ragged sigh. “I invited that predator into my home, welcomed him into our family and allowed him uncensored access to you.”
Her brother blamed her husband, just as Tristan suspected he would. That was the reason why Tristan had offered Victoria a way to salvage her relationship with her eldest brother by blaming him for all that transpired.
Blame me. Two words, whispered to her as she was alighting the carriage steps this morning. Blame me.
Tristan recognized, like she did, that Sebastian wanted to blame him and offered himself as a way for Victoria to escape from her own culpability, willing to sacrifice his own relationship with his twin sister in the process.
As much as she wanted to hide behind the protection Tristan offered her, Victoria refused to be so spineless.
No, she would admit the truth to her brother.
“Tristan and I share the blame equally, Sebastian,” she admitted, turning so she could gauge her brother’s reaction.
It was obvious from his scowl that he remained unconvinced.
“I pursued him. Having loved him for so long, I concocted a scheme to make him see me as an adult and I succeeded, at the expense of my own reputation.”
His profile betrayed his anguish. “Why, Tori?”
Victoria leaned against the door for support. “In spite of the fact that Tristan never led me to believe he loved me, I thought he did, or at least that he could if he allowed himself.”
“It all makes sense now,” Sebastian shook his head. “Why you never showed any interest in encouraging suitors. But you never showed any inclination that your feelings for Tristan surpassed friendship and I never suspected. I actually believed you would marry the Earl of Fairfax. How ridiculous I was, to think I knew you.”
She flinched, his words slicing her heart like a dagger. “I am sorry, Sebastian.”
What else could she say? She had destroyed their tight-knit family with her selfishness, her blind devotion and reckless abandon. Victoria didn’t deserve her brother’s love.
“It was his idea that you elope?” Sebastian asked. There was a hint of malice in his question, an underlying threat that chilled Tori to the core.
“Yes.”
That one word, a hushed whisper, seemed to inflame Sebastian’s deep seated rage for his brother-in-law. “That bastard.”
Victoria knew that her brother suspected that she hadn’t much of a choice in the matter. She also understood that the knowledge was torturing him.
“I chose to elope with Tristan,” she lied in an attempt to ease her brother’s distress. What harm could possibly come from such a fabrication, she wondered? “He offered me a viable solution to the chaos that we both created, one I accepted. At the time, I considered it the most prudent course of action. You and your family had been disgraced enough.”
“But you are my family,” Sebastian’s tone was rough with emotion as he turned, his eyes fixed on hers. His was such a simple statement, yet one that filled her heart with an overwhelming sense of shame.
He studied her for several long seconds that seemed like an eternity before adding, “You make it sound as if you are obligated to be his wife, bound by some sense of duty.”
“I am no longer a foolish romantic. I grew up at last.” She understood the consequences of her actions. Marrying Tristan did save Sebastian, Gwen and their children from further disgrace.
“Your romanticism has always been one of the many qualities that I admired about you,” Sebastian said simply, as if seeing her for the very first time and disapproving of the woman she’d become.
His disappointment was too much to abide.
“I am sincerely sorry, Sebastian,” she swung the door open, desperate to put her brother out of his misery, aware of the pain she continued to inflict upon him with her very presence.
He crossed the room quickly, his strides swift as he grabbed Victoria’s arm, turning her to face him before embracing her in a tight hug. “Don’t go. Please, don’t leave.”
“I failed you,” she said, her muscles tensing as she attempted to control the torrent of emotions that was threatening to overtake her.
Sebastian squeezed her tighter, as if fearful that she would slip away. “You haven’t now nor will you ever fail me. I love you. I am concerned for you.”
“This is my fault,” she admitted. “I set these events in motion.”
“Shush,” he smoothed her hair in a paternal gesture. “There is an insurmountable amount of blame to assign. I should have recognized how you felt about him, I should have predicted this. I should have protected you.”
“Please forgive me, Sebastian,” she pleaded.
He removed his handkerchief from his vest pocket, dabbing her eyes with the crisp linen. “I forgive you. How could I not?”
“I was so afraid that I had lost you,” she whispered. “I don’t blame you for despising me.”
“Yes, I was angry and concerned but you are like a daughter to me, as much my child as Nicholas and Emma. I will never renounce you, not for any reason.” His tone brooked no argument.
An intense relief flooded Tori as her shoulders wracked with sobs. “I thought – I thought that you would never forgive me.”
He embraced her in a solid cocoon of protection. “I won’t now nor will I ever forsake you, Tori. Nothing you do or say will ever change my mind. You will always have a home with me. Promise me that you will never forget that.”
She nodded.
“Promise me,” he said, his tone dire as he tipped her chin up to face him. “You must promise me that you will come to me, whenever you need me.”
“I promise.” Victoria studied her brother, discerning a hidden meaning, one he was attempting to disguise behind an encouraging grin.
A deep seated apprehension took root, wrapping around her heart like a vise grip. There was an underlying factor, one she knew nothing about.
Her chest constricted with dread.
Sebastian motioned toward the sofa, “Sit while I ring for tea,” he said, his voice clear and calm. “You and I have much to discuss.”
Chapter 15
Though life wasn’t yet back to normal, it was as close to it as humanly possible. Granted, Sebastian hadn’t spoken to Tristan since their fisticuffs, but the duke was hosting a wedding ball for the happy couple as a public show of support for his sister. If anyone fully understood the art of minimizing scandal, it was Sebastian and it was his intent to show that both Victoria and Tristan had the full support of the Duke and Duchess of Davenport behind their union.
Victoria grabbed another gown from her wardrobe then to
ssed it upon her bed in disgust. “Why can’t I find the right dress?” she asked her maid, exasperated.
Victoria decided to prepare in her old suite at her brother’s estate since most of her trunks hadn’t yet been delivered to Tristan’s nearby manor. She secretly wondered if Sebastian was delaying the delivery of the rest of her items in the hopes that she would change her mind and remain under his roof. It was all she could do to get him to relinquish Molly to her.
“Ugh,” she grabbed yet another garment, this one a modest pale blue gown, from the back of her wardrobe. “Please tell me that I have never worn such a dowdy frock.”
“If you tell me what you’re looking for, my Lady, I’d be happy to assist you,” Meg said, taking a step back as if expecting her mistress to toss a frilly frock in her direction.
Victoria hurled more garments onto the bed. “Something I apparently don’t own. This is my wedding celebration, after all. I want to look gorgeous, modestly seductive even. Propriety be damned, I want everyone in attendance to know that my husband is lusting after me. Is that too much to ask?”
“Trouble in paradise?” Eve asked from the doorway.
“Oh, Miss MacAlistair,” Meg practically shouted from the far side of the room. “Isn’t this a lovely surprise? I’ll give you both a chance to chat.”
Tori watched her maid dart out of the room, shutting the door with an audible sigh of relief. “Do you think I frightened her?” she asked her sister-in-law.
“Goodness, Victoria, you startled me and I am related to you by marriage.” Eve tossed her reticule onto the colorful pile of fabrics on the bed then stepped over some more gowns as she made her way to Victoria.
Tori gave her friend a hug.
“Shouldn’t you be happy?” Eve asked, squeezing her shoulders. “Your elaborate scheme proceeded according to plan and you have married the man you’ve adored for ages, a man who did such a good job of concealing your elopement that no one in the ton knows of it. At least a hundred members of polite society will be in attendance to celebrate your unconventional union. You are pulling one over on each of those gossip mongering hypocrites.”
Victoria smiled before crossing the room, taking a swig of the champagne that she’d poured earlier. It was a little warm and slightly flat, but it was working nonetheless to soothe her frayed nerves. So she took another sip before downing the rest of her glass.
“Careful,” Eve warned as she reached for Victoria’s now empty flute. “Let’s save some celebrating for later.”
“I have nothing to wear,” Tori surveyed the pile of gowns strewn about her bedchamber.
Eve pointed to the mess. “I dare say you have too many options.”
“Not for my intentions,” Victoria slumped onto her window seat. “I want my husband to desire me in front of each and every gossip mongering hypocrite downstairs and I fear that none of these gowns will garner such an effect. Since everything happened so quickly, I’ve had no time for you to design one for me.”
She referred to Sebastian’s attempt at surprising the ton with news of Tristan and Victoria’s nuptials. It would be an opulent affair, as Sebastian’s parties always were, hastily organized or not. But still, Victoria’s insecurities about what she would wear and how she would be received increased tenfold.
“Lady Victoria MacAlistair that is utterly preposterous. You have one of the most spectacular wardrobes I’ve ever seen! Granted, I designed most of them for you,” Eve added with a wink, sitting beside her friend. “As for your husband desiring you, need I remind you that Tristan married you?”
“Half of the ton will suspect that he did so out of obligation, nothing more.” Tori stood and walked back to the table, grabbing the bottle of champagne again.
“No more, darling,” Eve ran to her, reaching for the bottle. “No good comes from imbibing too much champagne. Trust me, I speak from experience. Besides, I believe you are wrong about Tristan’s motives.”
Victoria tipped her head to the side. “The ton will assume he compromised me and married me because he felt obligated to do so. They will be correct in their assessments – you and I both know it.”
“What is this nonsense about Tristan marrying you because he felt obligated? I know for a fact that he was desperate to marry you.” Eve’s serene features were a mask of confusion.
“Yes, he was desperate, all right – desperate for an heir, desperate to get what he wanted at all costs and desperate to make amends to his twin sister for seducing her sister-in-law.” Tori collapsed onto the bed now strewn with fabrics as a rather large spray of silk flowers poked her in the back. She flinched, a throaty “ouch” escaping her lips as she adjusted her weight.
Though she and Tristan were on much more solid ground than before their union, Victoria still couldn’t forget how it all began.
The ton would put the pieces together.
“Regardless, he married you,” Eve clearly remained unconvinced. “Trust me when I say that most men wouldn’t have gone to so much trouble. You know it to be true. So why are you so anxious when, for as long as I’ve known you, you have never been insecure?”
Victoria considered her friend’s question.
Tristan was her husband and assured her that he wanted her, he insinuated that he cared, and he made love to Victoria like he couldn’t get enough of her. Yes, in private, he was the most attentive husband. But this would be the first time that they appeared in public, in front of polite society for them to study and dissect. Her greatest fear was that in one instant, the gossips would latch on to the fact that he married her out of duty.
Eve cleared her throat, as if to say I am still waiting for an answer.
How could Victoria make her friend understand? “I want Tristan to look at me tonight as if I am the most gorgeous woman he’s ever laid eyes upon and I want everyone in attendance to see it. Let’s not forget that all of our guests are well aware that you chucked him out for his brother. They will scrutinize me, comparing me to you and I want those bloody hypocrites to realize that you were the biggest mistake of his life.” Tori raised her head before adding, “No offense.”
“None taken,” Eve muttered before pouring herself a glass of champagne and taking a large gulp. “I think we need to start from the beginning.”
“You’ll need a larger glass,” Tori warned, staring up at her vaulted ceiling, feeling remarkably numb.
By the time Victoria was done filling Eve in on the events of the past couple of weeks, Eve was drinking straight from the bottle.
“This is entirely unladylike,” Eve said as she took another swig.
Tori grabbed it from her, placing the bottle upon her bedside table. Or at least what used to be hers. “I believe you resemble that remark,” she quipped, collapsing onto her bed, apprehension hanging heavy within her heart. “I keep thinking of Abigail Archer.”
“Who?” Eve asked, nonplussed.
“You must remember Abby,” Tori propped herself up on her elbow then began to trace the threading of the bedding with her fingertips. “Lord Archer’s wife – they married shortly after he inherited his title. Abby was a petite, mousy thing with large hazel eyes.”
“Ah, I remember her now,” Eve bent her head as if imparting a secret. “She moved to France, you know.”
Tori began to wind a piece of ribbon from one of the garments around her fingers. “It was during their first official function as husband and wife that the gossip began. The ton questioned, rather openly and viciously, why Lord Archer would marry such a plain woman. I keep thinking of how humiliating it must have been for her.”
Eve remained silent, as if she predicted the direction of their conversation.
“Not soon after, Lord Archer took a mistress. Some Italian soprano, wasn’t she?” Victoria asked. Unspooling the ribbon then repeating the motion.
“Yes,” Eve said grimly. “A breathtaking blonde as I recall.”
“I always pitied Abby.” Now Victoria felt some thread of commonality with the poor
creature. “I fear that tonight I will become Abigail Archer, that the moment I enter that ballroom people will wonder what Tristan is doing married to me and that he will eventually wonder the same thing.”
Victoria’s friend squeezed her hand possessively. “You sell yourself short. Honestly, Tori, you are one of the most attractive females in all of England. Forgive me for being blunt, but Tristan must have already come to that conclusion, otherwise he wouldn’t have compromised you in the first place.”
“Eve MacAlistair,” Tori gasped, feigning affront. “You are shameless! Not to mention absolutely foxed.”
“Yes, well, it needed to be referenced regardless,” Eve shrugged her shoulders then lifted a crimson gown made of silk and lace. “This gown is quite lovely.”
Tori fingered the opulent fabric. “I am partial to that one myself because you designed it for me.”
“Ah, I knew there was a reason I liked it. I have exquisite taste.” Eve hiccupped then placed her champagne flute on the table beside her. “I think I can do something with this gown.”
“Pardon?” Victoria sat upright.
“Why didn’t I consider it earlier?” Eve held the dress up towards the ceiling, muttering aloud. “It isn’t too late. I will need shears, of course, along with a needle and some thread.”
Victoria rose to her feet in immediate response then hurried across the room, stumbling over some fabric in the process of reaching for the bell pull. “What do you have in mind?”
Eve glanced up at her friend, wearing a downright devilish grin. “Oh, Victoria, Tristan won’t know what hit him and every one of those vipers who chased away Abigail Archer will be green with envy.”
Armed with a fierce determination, Victoria would play the role of Tristan’s beguiling wife to perfection. In doing so, she would silence the vicious gossips that were waiting for the chance to rip her to shreds.
The Skilled Seduction Page 24