Virginia And The Wolf

by Lynne Connolly

  “Why did you wear it? Defiance?”

  “Of a kind.” He grunted, a half laugh. “I enjoyed it. If people were staring at me, I’d give them something to stare at.” He tugged his earlobe. “It feels strange without it. I’ll have to get another.”

  She shook her head. “Everybody knows who you are, Francis. You don’t need an earring to announce your presence.”

  He smiled. “Thank you. I think.”

  “Who pierced your ear?”

  “I did.”

  Now it was her turn to wince. “My nurse did mine. A hot darning needle and a cork.”

  “I wish I’d thought of the cork. I did it for a wager ten years ago, and then I thought I might as well make use of it.”

  She pulled a few pins out of the nest of her hair and groped for more, grimacing when they pulled her scalp. “I need only put off my trip for a day or two, then? It is Saturday today.” She glanced at the clock. “The carriage will arrive on Monday morning, but I’ll send a message to delay it.”

  “Good.” He swung back the covers and lowered his feet to the floor. “I’ll come to Devonshire with you.”

  The brush pulled away and dangled from her hair as she spun around. “What are you talking about? You can’t come. You’re still ill.”

  Annoyingly, he stood up perfectly steadily, only one hand on the bedpost for support. “I’ll do. You could be in danger.”

  “Nonsense! I hired postilions, and Hurst and Winston will accompany me. Get back into bed, Francis, please.”

  The sight of his bare legs from the knees down alarmed her, especially since he was heading in her direction, his tread firm but slow. Gently, he disentangled the brush, showing far more patience than she would have given him credit for. Far too intimate, like a domestic scene.

  But then, what would she know about those?

  Taking the brush from her, he set about taming her tangled curls. “You have very beautiful hair,” he murmured. “Like silk.”

  “Like tangled wool,” she retorted, but she allowed him to stroke the brush through her locks, gently teasing out the knots.

  “Silk,” he repeated firmly. “Virginia, I have to tell you something. On Thursday—”

  “You remember?” she interjected, far too harshly.

  “Not everything. There are some annoying gaps in my memory. I don’t remember leaving the house, for example.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. He probably didn’t remember what she’d told him. He might not even remember his proposal. Better that way.

  “I do have something to tell you, though.”

  Oh, perhaps not. “What about?” She tried not to hold her breath.

  “Leaving your house the day after I kissed you for the first time—Virginia, do keep still, you nearly jerked the brush out of my hand—I was waylaid by what I guessed were hired ruffians. They warned me to keep away from you.”

  “What? And you’ve only told me now?” She forced herself to remain still while he stroked the brush through her hair.

  “I regret that omission, but I had no way of knowing they were serious.” Before she could scold him further, he continued, “Thursday’s attack on me was deliberate, also, obviously. I’m assuming the same person instigated it.”

  She bit her lip, a sting of pain that reminded her what she should do. “Then perhaps you should listen to them. Stay away from me, Francis.”

  She couldn’t let him face more danger because of her. How could she ever live with herself if she did that? Somehow she had to persuade him to stay away. She’d double her guards if that would satisfy him. But he had to leave.

  “I will listen to them, but not like that. I intend to keep closer to you. Someone means you harm. Why, I have no idea, but we can discuss that later.”

  “But you are the one getting hurt. They want you to leave me alone. So do it.”

  “I am your protector, or someone thinks I am. So they want me away from you so they can get at you. I cannot allow that.”

  “They won’t hurt me.”

  He shook his head. “Are you sure about that?”

  He would not let her protest, but continued to stroke the brush through her hair, now completely disentangled. She watched him in the mirror. He was totally engrossed in his work. The rhythm soothed her as nothing else had done, as if he was brushing her stress away.

  He spoke to her as he brushed. “In this house you are a sitting target, so we must not stay here. The knocker is off the door, but whoever is watching this house knows we’re in here. We’re vulnerable to attack. If a ruffian breaks down the back door, we’ll be overwhelmed in minutes. Besides us, we have two menservants and three women. While I don’t doubt your cook could give a good account of herself, we cannot risk it. We must move, and we’ll do it quickly and discreetly.”

  That sounded ridiculous. “Why would anyone want to attack me here? I have nothing of particular value left in this house. The jewelry left two days ago with footmen to guard it in the traveling carriage. I planned to follow quietly on my own.”

  “And so you will. I have been speaking with Butler, and we agreed that he and Hurst should come with us as footmen. They are healthy men in the prime of life, and I believe you can trust them. We will travel quickly.”

  “We?” When she tried to turn to face him, his hand pressed a little harder to stop her, just enough to keep her in place.

  He worked methodically through her hair. It crackled with energy.

  “Yes, we.”

  “I’ll hire more men,” she said.

  “And stick out even more? No, my dear, we’ll travel together as a private couple. Hurst has gone to the club for my valise, so I can be respectable.”

  Her thoughts whirled.

  The trip to Devonshire would take the best part of a week. Crammed in a traveling chaise with the man she had dreamed about this last month, even with her maid there? How could she even consider it? “I am sure I’ll be perfectly safe.”

  “I’m not.” He put the brush back on the washstand. “There. Now you are more like yourself. Shall I pin it up for you?”

  “Can you?” Before he could attempt such an outrageous thing, she grabbed the pin dish and held it to her chest. “I’m perfectly capable of achieving a simple style, thank you.”

  Chuckling, he stepped back. Apart from the bandage wrapped around his head, he appeared annoyingly normal. But surely his head must be pounding.

  “Go and change,” he said. “Your maid has left clothes for you in the powder room. I’ll shave.”

  “Just like that, you’re taking control of my life?” If she hadn’t been wearing house slippers, Virginia would have stamped her foot, but the action would have hurt her more than Francis. “This is why I won’t marry any man! They take over, give orders they are not entitled to. How could you think I would do this?”

  He couldn’t travel with her. He was too tempting, but more important, he was in danger every minute he spent with her.

  Stepping forward, he put his hands on her shoulders. She lifted her chin, meeting his eyes defiantly. “I will not leave you. Someone wants you alone, separated from any protectors. I have no idea what they want, but you seem to forget that you are a woman of substance. You know how dangerous traveling on your own can be. Let me do this, or I’ll hire another vehicle and follow behind you. Either way, I’ll be with you.”

  This time she did stamp. “How could you? This is intolerable. I’m merely going to my estate.” She stopped guiltily. She wasn’t going straight there. She would stop at Combe Manor on the way.

  He soothed her, stroking her hair as if she were an agitated kitten. And to her chagrin, she melted under his touch, felt herself moving closer—

  No. That would never happen again. Yesterday had warned her, she could not allow that situation to recur. She’d been so close to losing—ever
ything on that table.

  She stepped back. “I’ll dress,” she said firmly. “And you’ll rest. Then we will talk further.” Turning, she made for the dressing room. “That’s an order. You may shave and wash, but there is no need to dress, if you don’t wish to. I’ll have dinner served up here later.”

  She enjoyed his responsive chuckle, although she gave him no sign that she had done so. That would only encourage him.

  When she reached the door, he called her name. “Virginia.”

  Her hand on the doorjamb, she turned. “What is it?”

  “I’m truly concerned for you. This isn’t another start, or a jape.”

  She did not deserve his care. He was courting danger for her sake and had faced it already. Her mind was in complete turmoil, but she was determined on one thing. She would not put Francis into any more peril. If the men wanted him to leave her alone, well, he would do so.

  She was quite capable of taking care of herself, as long as she employed more men to accompany her. When the watchers saw her leaving on her own, they would be satisfied. Francis had not said so, but she could guess who wanted to separate them.

  Jamie wanted to marry her, so he would want them apart. He had to be the person behind this. If she ever found proof of her suspicion, she would ensure Jamie Dulverton suffered for it.

  Turning away, she entered the dressing room and closed the door.

  * * * *

  They argued all Saturday, until she’d pretended to give in, just to get some peace. But Virginia had made up her mind.

  How could she ask an injured man to do more than he had already? And just as much to the point, how could she travel with such a man, when they had let the floodgates open on their feelings for each other?

  Better he cooled his heels in Derbyshire and Leicestershire, as he’d originally planned. A period apart would cool their ardor, and when they met again, they could slip back into the guarded cordiality that had marked their previous dealings. No courting, no more thoughts of marriage.

  He would always have her grateful thanks.

  He’d slept, but a normal slumber. Indeed, she could barely believe he was recovering so quickly, but she felt safe leaving him here.

  When she was sure he was sound asleep, she found Butler and told him of her amended plans. She would leave earlier than she’d planned. At half past six the next morning, Sunday, a day earlier than she’d told Francis, she would leave in a hired carriage. She sent her revised orders to the livery stables she usually used.

  Not being foolish, she had also arranged for more protection. The carriage she’d originally ordered would arrive on Monday morning to confuse anyone who might still be watching the house. Francis could take it if he wanted to, but she’d prefer he remained in town until he was well again. Preferably at his club, out of danger.

  Everything was arranged.

  Butler had his orders. He would remain in London, as planned, and keep his lordship in her house until he was well enough to leave. Or accompany him back to his club, whichever Francis preferred.

  That night she went to the guest room she was using, leaving orders to be woken quietly at half past five.

  The discreet tap on her door had her jolting awake. She dressed simply, Winston helping her in silence and following her down the back stairs. They did not put their shoes on until they were in the garden. Hurst followed with their valises.

  They went out by the garden gate and walked up the narrow path between the houses and the stables, to where the carriage waited at the other end of the street. Only then did she breathe more freely.

  She let Hurst hand her up into the carriage she’d hired. It was a comfortable but plain chaise, shiny black on the outside with yellow upholstery on the interior, a little worn, but comfortable and well-sprung.

  Virginia had donned a plain russet-colored gown and had packed another in dark green in her valise. She had plenty of linen, caps, and a spare hat, enough to render her respectable, but not enough to make her stand out, and she carried her trusty road atlas.

  Winston traveled in the carriage with her, and it was furnished with every comfort.

  Butler came up behind her. “Everyone on this side of the street has left, my lady. Lady Conyngham’s ball was the last event of the season of any significance, and now everyone is fleeing London as if the plague has hit it.”

  “So Lord Wolverley will not be seen leaving the house?”

  “No, my lady. I will make sure of it.”

  Hurst carried her valise and vanity case to the vehicle and tossed them in the boot, then came back around the side of the carriage and opened the door for her. Virginia’s maid settled on the opposite seat with her back to the horses, and they were off.

  Chapter 10

  “What are you talking about, gone?” Crushing the letter in his hand, Francis glared at the perfidious butler. The clock on the mantel tinkled the hour. Eight o’clock.

  “The viscountess decided to leave early, my lord. She asks you not to worry.”

  “How dare she?” he roared, fury mixed with fear surging through him. Flinging back the bedclothes, he leaped out of bed, flinching when his bruised arm hit the bedpost. “What is she thinking? Do you know how much danger she is in?”

  “Danger?” Butler shook his head. “That is you, my lord, surely.”

  He brought his face close to Butler’s, letting the man see the murder in his eyes. “You foolish man! I was attacked because I was getting too close to her. Someone wants Virginia, and they were prepared to stop me any way they could to get to her. They wanted to separate us because they want her alone.” He flung himself to the washstand.

  “She has increased her guards, my lord.” Despite his assertion, he didn’t sound so sure.

  Francis snorted. “Much good that will do her.” He snatched up the razor and began to strop it on the leather, stopping because his arm was stiff.

  Quietly, Butler stepped forward and took the razor from him. “She will be safe, my lord, and if you are not with her, whoever wants her will think you have obeyed the stricture. Either that or, pardon me, they will think you have perished.”

  “Hmm.” His temper subsiding, Francis began to think, putting all his energy into it. Taking the seat, he let Butler shave him. But he didn’t believe Butler. Alone, Virginia was in more danger.

  “Who does she have with her?”

  “A coachman, Hurst, four footmen, including a relief carriage driver, and her maid.”

  He held up a hand in an imperious gesture. “Winston?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Francis made his decision. “I will follow her, but I will not let her know I’m doing it. If I trace her steps, visit the same inns, I can ensure nobody was asking questions about her.”

  He would do her that service, even if she allowed him nothing else. If, as he suspected, Dulverton had paid the bullies to attack him, Dulverton would consider his work done.

  But Francis would not follow his original plans. He’d spoken of them in public, so no doubt Dulverton had heard of them. He would travel the same road as Virginia and ensure nobody was following.

  No doubt she thought to cool what had exploded around them, but he would not let that fall away. He’d found her, and he would keep her. He’d allowed her to think that his memory of his marriage proposal had disappeared with the accident, but he remembered every word. Every touch. She wanted him every bit as much as he wanted her. That was all that mattered. The rest would sort itself out.

  Butler finished his shave. As Francis rose to find his clothes, someone hammered at the front door. He exchanged a glance with Butler. “Who is in this house?”

  “The cook, the kitchen maid, and the two of us. The couple who will be taking care of the house in her ladyship’s absence will not arrive until tomorrow.”

  He’d seen something that would ai
d them in the dressing room, should they need it. “Go and answer it. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Glancing out of the window gave him no clues. A couple of chairmen were running up the street, an empty sedan-chair slung between them. The person at the door must have arrived in that, but no crested carriage or any assistant waiting gave any idea who was trying to break the door down with their thumps.

  He seized the cavalry sword that rested by the window and unsheathed it, breathing a sigh of relief when he found the weapon well cared for, oiled and sharp. It must have belonged to Ralph. Still in his nightshirt and with nothing on his feet, Francis ran down the stairs behind Butler, taking his station behind the door as the man answered it.

  With a gasp, he flung the door wide.

  “You can put that thing down,” Miss Childers said, sparing him a glare as she barreled through.

  Numbly, Francis closed the door behind her.

  Although dressed in her usual finery, the banker had come alone. She led the way to the back parlor, the scene of Francis’s near-seduction of Virginia, her steps brisk and no-nonsense. The scent of lavender and lemons still hung in the air, aromas he would always associate with Virginia.

  “Here.” From under her cloak, Miss Childers produced one of her infernal leather folders. She unfastened the strings and drew out a paper.

  Butler, having recovered from his astonishment first, was the first to speak. “Would madam like refreshment?”

  “Nothing, thank you. Where is Virginia? This is not a social visit. I need to talk to her.”

  “She left this morning,” Francis told her. “Very early.”

  Miss Childers uttered a most unladylike curse. “Then there is no time to waste. I believe she’s in danger.” She gave Francis a more perceptive study, taking in the bruises on his arm and the bandage wrapped around his head. “I see you’ve been in the wars already.”

  He gave her a rueful grin. “Indeed.”

  “And it was for her, was it not?”

  He nodded.

  “You are devoted to her?”