by Shirley Wine
At last, she chose one in a muted pink and moss green abstract pattern and discovered it lifted her very mediocre looks to a new level.
She took considerable care and piled her hair in a coronet on her head, securing it with a beaten copper pin salvaged from her flat.
The style gave her much needed height.
Victoria shivered as she recalled Keir’s ferocious look when she’d told him he didn’t need to buy her.
She looked at the ring again, enchanted by its simple elegance. It was so different from the huge cold, glittering ring that had adorned Davina Strathmore’s hand.
She found it disturbing that Keir understood her on one level, yet still remained deeply suspicious on the level that counted most.
A knock at the door broke into her troubled thoughts.
"Coming." She opened the door to Keir.
His dark suit, white evening shirt and black bow tie gave him a sartorial elegance that set her pulses racing. He was so handsome, his sable hair gleamed in the overhead light. She found it a struggle to breathe.
Desire clawed at her and her knees went weak.
"You look stunning." His chocolate eyes glittered with appreciation. "I thought the color would suit you."
And that answered the niggling question as to who had chosen the gowns.
"So do you," she whispered, managing a shaken breath.
"Ready to face the curious?"
She trembled at the thought. Was she ready for what could be a terrifying ordeal? She glanced up at him and something in his expression steadied her shaken nerves.
She nodded and picked up a warm wrap.
Keir took it from her and placed it around her shoulders dropping a kiss on the back of her neck. Fire raced through her at the gossamer touch of those heated lips against her skin.
She caught sight of their reflection in the mirror.
They looked like the proverbial beautiful couple, and in her innermost heart she wished it was so, instead of this awful strained distance between them.
What would it take for Keir to trust her without reserve?
They were both silent on the drive to the Country Club.
Nerves twisted her insides in knots as Keir ushered her inside. The hush that settled over the gathering intensified her nervousness.
She was acutely conscious of being the cynosure of all eyes.
Keir leaned close whispering in her ear. "Smile, sweetheart, they don’t look like a lynch mob. And I can't see a noose."
That sally made her chuckle and she glanced up at him, and surprised a devilish twinkle in his eye. In that instant she knew he was enjoying the sensation they'd created by their unexpected presence.
He guided them through the room, greeting everyone that caught his eyes with a smile and a nod.
Victoria wished she possessed his confidence.
Caine came forward to greet them.
"Victoria, Keir." The men shook hands. "We’re so glad you could make it."
One look at Muriel and Victoria thought, scratch that. The woman was here under duress. Victoria didn’t offer Muriel her hand. It would be a rash move to risk a public snub.
For certain sure there would be a newshound buried in this gathering. And wouldn't they delight capturing such a telling moment and spreading it for the curious to gloat over.
Victoria glanced at Caine but his urbane control revealed nothing.
He gripped Victoria’s shoulders and kissed her warmly on both cheeks. "You look beautiful. And how’s my little grandson?"
"As full of fun and devilment as always," she said, smiling at him. "Mrs. T has his company tonight."
Relief and gratitude for his easy acceptance of both her and Connor had Victoria smiling and kissing his cheek in return.
Warm and genuine, Caine had visited Connor every day in the hospital, and unlike her father, didn't judge her over the past.
When she'd hesitantly tried to explain, he'd stopped her. "That's your business, Victoria. I'm just so grateful you're happy to allow me into Connor's life."
As they all walked across the room, whispers followed them.
It took a determined effort to keep her smile in place. The firm pressure of Keir’s hand on her elbow steadied her and gave her an outward semblance of serenity.
When they reached their table, Logan stood and gripped her hands giving them an encouraging squeeze and Piper leaned past him and winked at her.
The warm acceptance boosted her confidence still further.
For the first time, Victoria thought they may be able to emerge from this debacle with their dignity intact.
"Keir’s a lucky man," Logan whispered, winking as she sat in the chair Keir held.
Surrounded and shielded by Keir’s family, Victoria relaxed enough to enjoy the meal and the company.
After dinner and before the speeches, a dance band played. The lilting music had her tapping a toe to the rhythm.
Logan stood up. "Would you like to dance?" Seeing Keir's frown he added hastily, "For old times’ sake."
Victoria accepted and he escorted her onto the dance floor. As he twirled her in the dance, she was very conscious of Keir’s gaze.
Logan was ensuring them a few moments of privacy.
"Have you set up a meeting?"
He twirled her in a corner turn using the dance to lean close to her ear. "Can you slip away on Tuesday afternoon?"
"I’ll manage."
"Be at the Turf Bar in The Wanderer’s Tavern at one. He will meet you there."
Victoria nodded and Logan danced her around the floor, his brow creased in a frown. "I don’t like this. You haven’t told Keir?"
"No. And I don’t intend to." She managed a strained smile. "This is something I need to do, myself."
"That guy’s a real shady character. You be careful."
"Yes granddad," she mocked, laughing softly. "Believe me cautious is now my second name, besides he owes me a favor."
Logan studied her keenly and then nodded apparently satisfied and escorted her back to their table handing her back to Keir with a finesse she had to admire.
She schooled her face not wanting Keir to guess what she was plotting. She knew he’d pitch a fit and refuse to let her keep the assignation.
The evening passed uneventfully and she was pleased to have arranged that meeting and escaped Keir’s eagle eye.
"What were you and Logan discussing so earnestly on the dance floor?"
It took every ounce of self-control she possessed not to give a guilty start. She looked at Keir but his face was too shadowy in the dim interior to read his expression.
"Just catching up," she said with a slight shrug.
"He looked like he was grilling you? What about? Me?"
Relief made Victoria laugh, the sound easing the tension between them. "You guessed it. Logan and my father both suffer from a guilty conscience. It would never do to let them off the hook too easily."
Keir gave her one of those keen searching looks and some of the tension seeped out of him. "As long as that’s all you’re hatching, Victoria, I don’t want you taking any unnecessary risks until this situation resolves itself."
She leaned across and laid her hand over his on the steering wheel. "I’m quite capable of looking after myself, Keir. I’m not some hot-house flower you need to keep sheltered and protected."
"I realize that," he said a grim edge to his tone. "But you now are a familiar face to far too many people. People you don’t know. This makes you far more vulnerable that you realize."
The sober warning stirred some apprehension, especially remembering the lowlife who’d trashed her flat, but she was determined not to be swayed.
She intended to reclaim their lives.
And if anyone could find a way to silence Davina Strathmore, it was Dan Smales.
The security gates opened noiselessly as Keir pressed a switch on the dash. He drove through and they closed just as silently. By the time the car reached the garage the doors were o
pen.
The Jaguar purred into its park like a large contented cat. He cut the headlights.
Keir made no move to alight and the garage doors closed noiselessly behind them leaving them in the dim intimacy.
Suddenly, unaccountably nervous, Victoria moistened her lower lip with the tip of her tongue as he half turned in the seat to face her, tracing a finger down her cheek. Her heart was an unruly tom-tom beat and sent heat surging through her.
"Did you enjoy your evening?" His voice dropped to a husky, uneven tone.
"Better than I expected too." Her breathing was shallow and uneven, eyelids very heavy.
He curled a strong hand around her neck and turned her face upwards and very slowly bent to her lips.
Those lips covered hers, firm and persuasive.
Heat flooded her in a steady, relentless tide.
She sank against him, boneless and pliant.
He was all honed muscle and sinew beneath his elegant clothes.
An urban warrior.
He lifted his head and, in the dim light, his face resembled honed granite.
His next kiss curled her toes.
He didn’t demand, he very simply took, claimed and possessed her until she had as little substance as gelatin.
Her hands crept up his chest and buried themselves in his hair and then she was crushed hard against him.
Her sensitized nipples were abraded by the layers of fabric between them. Resistance was not an option. She burned with the need to touch his skin to run her hands over those firm muscles.
Clothes at the moment were too much of an impediment.
At last he lifted his head and laid an unsteady hand against her cheek as affected by their kisses as she was.
"We should take this upstairs," he said in a husky whisper. "We’ve progressed from making out in the front seat of a car."
Victoria could only nod, speech was beyond her.
Very gently, he unclasped her hands and laid them in her lap then alighted from the car and walked to the passenger door and opened it for her. He extended a hand and without hesitation she laid hers in his.
The genteel thud of the door barely penetrated the delicious haze shrouding her senses. Keir laid a strong arm around her shoulders and guided her toward the lift that accessed the upstairs.
When they reached the bedroom wing, he opened the door into the nursery playroom to where Mrs. T was watching a film.
As soon as she saw them, she switched off the television and stood up.
"Everything okay?" Victoria asked.
"Not a murmur out of him once his head hit the pillow," she assured them with a warm smile. "I’ll leave you now."
Together they looked in on Connor.
He was spread eagled on the bed, one foot peeping from under the covers. She moved out from under Keir’s arm and gently drew the covers over the sleeping child.
As she looked up, she surprised a strange look on Keir’s face. He stepped forward and lifted her chin with strong fingers.
"Did I ever say thank you?" he asked in a husky whisper.
"What for?"
"For Connor." He framed her face with both hands and looked into her eyes. "You carried him and nurtured him, on your own. It can’t have been easy for you."
Victoria colored under his intense gaze.
"If Dad had had his way, Connor would have been adopted out at birth." She lifted Keir’s hand to her cheek. "But no one on this earth could make me give away our baby."
"Then I’m doubly thankful." He tilted her chin and sealed her lips with a kiss that plundered her soul.
Lips trapped beneath his, caught up in the sensual haze he invoked so effortlessly, she was scarcely aware of moving until they were enclosed in her bedroom.
The moonlight, chilly and cold, cascaded through the drapes penetrating the sheer curtains.
In its ghostly light, Keir lifted his head, "Are you going to send me to my own bed tonight?"
It took a few moments to assimilate his words. She smiled, a small feline movement curving her lips.
"Stay."
Chapter Nineteen
Victoria slid into the booth opposite Dan Smales in the Turf Bar just as the garish cuckoo clock on the wall sang the hour, very off key.
She recognized him instantly although their only meeting had taken place more than eight years ago.
A tweed cap concealed her hair, the bill pulled down over her eyes. An ancient tweed coat and a muffler wound around her neck covered the lower part of her face.
Baggy, paint stained pants completed her disguise.
She’d purloined the clothes from the gardener’s closet, and after bribing Mrs. T to let her slip out in the gardener’s utility to escape the pack at the gate.
"Well Missy," Dan drawled with laconic humor. "I can easily guess what you’re after."
Victoria glanced up into shrewd grey eyes, eyes that had seen far too many sordid secrets to be surprised by anything.
"I have to find some way to stop them, Dan." She spread her hands wide. "It’s impacting on Keir’s position. He’s not entrenched enough at Donovans to withstand such a sustained attack."
Dan’s lip curled. "Did he tell you that?"
"Of course not," she scoffed softly. "Can you imagine him whining to anyone about his misfortune?"
Dan’s chuckle was answer enough. "So you’re looking for something to shut down the scandal machine? How dirty do you need to get?"
"Whatever it takes." Her mouth tightened into grim line. She might not like doing this but knew the only way to fight fire was sometimes with fire. "I want my life back."
"Not possible."
A frisson of unease slid down her spine as she looked up into suddenly hard eyes.
Reluctantly, she shook her head. It was impossible to ever return to the blessed anonymity she’d once enjoyed.
She glanced at her watch. "I need to go."
"Meet me here, same time next week? How are you getting back?"
"Same way I came." She slid from the seat. "My ride is waiting."
Victoria slipped from the booth and escaped from the bar.
To her relief Albee Gates, the gardener, was waiting with the utility, as he’d promised. He’d point blank refused to just drop her and return. Unless she’s agreed to him waiting, he had refused to take her with him.
Not until they were safely back at Dunstan with a load of compost and garden fertilizer in the back of the Ute did she breathe easily again.
Mrs. T met her scolding. "Mr. Keir would have both our heads on a platter if he knew we’d let you sneak out of here."
"What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him." Victoria quipped as she hung the gardener’s clothes in the closet.
"It’s too risky child." The kindly woman fluttered around her, clearly agitated.
Her motherly fussing warmed a cold place in Victoria’s heart. Until this woman had come into her life, she didn’t realize how much she still missed her mother.
Impulsively she leaned up and kissed the woman on the cheek. "Thank you for caring."
"Get along with you, child," she chided blushing. "I hear young Connor calling."
As Victoria went off to find her son, her heart was light.
She'd taken steps to stop Davina and her father.
And last night Keir had chosen to bridge the awful yawning chasm between them.
Soon, she hoped with fervent wistfulness, everything would be right with her world.
*****
Victoria’s jubilation at the wealth of information Dan Smales amassed on Davina Strathmore was short lived.
As she looked at the photos, sick to her stomach, she suddenly understood what it meant to hold a proverbial hot potato in her hand.
While she'd wanted Dan to find something that would shut the Davina Strathmore up, she'd never considered he would uncover something so—so horrifying.
His skill in worming out other people’s deep, dark secrets chilled her to the bone.
&
nbsp; That Davina was a closet lesbian didn’t really surprise Victoria. She clearly recalled the blonde’s expression when confronted by Keir’s blatant masculinity.
It was the identity of her long-time partner that floored Victoria, and yet it made a sickening kind of sense.
She stared at the photos then looked at Dan. "You’re certain this is correct?"
"Photos don’t lie, unless you want them to," he drawled laconically. "And these particular ones are gospel truth."
"How long has this—this affair for want of a better word—been going on?"
"Several years."
"Does anyone else suspect?"
Dan shrugged and something in his expression made her unease escalate. She regretted ever approaching this man.
"That’s anyone’s guess. These women are wealthy and money is useful to conceal secrets."
Victoria shook her head feeling more than slightly sick. Her stomach roiled and twisted.
"But Muriel—" she broke off unable to continue.
If this leaked out it would destroy so many people. Logan. Piper. Caine. Connor. Keir and God help her, even herself.
No one in their inner family circle would escape.
It made the present persecution resemble a toddle in the park. At last, she understood Davina’s continued attack on her and Keir.
She was using Victoria and Keir to create a smoke screen to conceal the truth and protect her own secrets.
"What do you intend to do with them?"
"God knows." Victoria looked at Dan, torn. "Can I have these?"
Dan’s stillness suddenly took on an aura of menace. "Not quite so fast, Victoria, there’s a little matter of payment."
Too late, she remembered Logan’s warning. Trust Dan Smales at your peril.
Her heart missed a beat and then thundered in her breast and her mouth went dry with apprehension.
"Payment?" Dear God what was he suggesting?
He gathered up the incriminating photos and slid them into a folder. "I don’t do this sort of dangerous work for love, my dear. When I have ten thousand dollars, you can have these." He tapped the folder significantly. "And unless I’m paid within a week, these go to the Strathmore’s opposition."