Destiny of the Heart (Viking Destiny)

by K. Young

  Ashby waited patiently for her amusement to settle down. He had been around women like her long enough to know that if he insulted her, not only would he not get what he wanted, but she was just as likely to kill him. He certainly didn't want to marry Marie's daughter, but he needed the money. This woman, whoever she was, provided him a solution to his problem. Killing Kristen would be the ultimate revenge against his father and Marie, and would refill his coffers for years to come. It was an arrangement he was quite certain would suit him better than another marriage.

  "Alright, Ashby. I'll allow a temporary partnership. The girl dies by your hands, you get the money, and I get what I want."

  "And what might that be?"

  "Nothing that concerns you. I'll be keeping an eye on your progress, so do make sure you're not sloppy about it." "Not to worry, I have the perfect plan."

  "I'm sure. Keep in mind that this must be accomplished rather quickly. Within the week should suffice."

  Ashby blustered. "A week?!"

  Alice cocked her brow and looked at him with haughty disdain. "I could just kill you now."

  Ashby closed his mouth and huddled against the door. "A week should be plenty of time."

  "I thought as much. Now then, you may find me at 12 Primrose St. I expect regular reports, and don't even think of lying because I'll know. The how's and why's of it are of no concern to you, but let me be perfectly clear, Ashby. You cross me in any way and I will not hesitate to slit your throat. Do you understand me?"

  Ashby nodded fervently. Alice nodded and then leaned over to blow out the candle. She headed toward the window.

  "You could use the door." Ashby offered helpfully.

  "I like the window. Remember, one week Ashby. After that, the deal's off."

  She climbed on the ledge and then disappeared into the darkness. Ashby had the distinct impression that she was comfortable with the night and skulked about often. It gave him shivers. But, at least she hadn't killed him and he had an opportunity to get his hands on Marie's money. He left Kristen's room, plotting his revenge and laughing to himself. Chapter 8

  The next week was extremely busy for Kristen and Mel, what with planning the new wardrobe for Kristen, deciding which invitations to accept and which to decline, and the everyday hustle and bustle of a London season. Mel had taken considerable care in attending to Kristen's face every night, and the bruising was nearly gone. Nothing a little powder couldn't conceal. Now they would be able to show Kristen off to the ton in a grand fashion, and no one would question what circumstances had brought Kristen to the marriage mart.

  Despite Kristen's reluctance to continue their shopping, Mel was insistent that Kristen had not yet purchased enough dresses. She claimed that every young woman presenting herself to society had twice the wardrobe Kristen did and if she wanted to make an impression, she really needed to shine. So, Kristen agreed to another fitting with Mel's dressmaker.

  Mrs. Tisdale was excellent with a needle and some fabric, and made quite the dashing cut for the men of London, but her passion was in the dresses she made for the ladies. Kristen was to be decked out, lace and all, from her formal wear to her day wear. She was to outshine the entire tone, at least, that's what Mel had told Mrs. Tisdale, who had quite happily agreed to the charge. As Kristen stood there having her measurements taken, Mel reminded her of their long list of errands still to run.

  "After this we'll need to go to the jewelers to get matching jewels for the new dresses, then we've been invited to tea at the Albany with Lady Wentworth and her daughter. Lady Wentworth makes a point to meet all of the eligible ladies coming out each season to see how they compare to her daughters. She doesn't like many people, but don't let that scare you. It's no wonder with the homely girls she has put out. Oh, and I also scheduled you some interviews this afternoon for your own maid."

  Kristen fairly groaned. This was becoming more complicated than she had ever imagined it would be. She never had use of a maid before as her mother always took pleasure in helping her, and then after she had died, Kristen had just taken care of herself. She honestly didn't feel it necessary, but Mel had told her it was because the dresses they bought would need assistance to get in and out of. Kristen had looked at Mel as though she'd gone daft.

  “Why in bloody hell am I buying them, then?” She grouched irritably.

  “Because they're all the rage and you will look marvelous in them. And, love, you really must learn to hold your tongue in a public place so as not to scare off the gentlemen. They won't know what to do with a lady who swears more than they do.” Mel scolded gently.

  At least she had the grace to blush when several mothers had covered their daughters’ ears and hurried them outside, whispering about indecency and the like. Mrs. Tisdale was none too pleased to have customers leaving, but she had blessedly held her tongue. Kristen's nerves were already scattered, and she wasn't sure she could have handled the lady's censure. At the end of her appointment, Kristen included a large enough tip that the woman's pique with her was quite forgotten.

  Next, they stopped at the jewelers to get the matching jewels Kristen would need for her dresses. Her mother's will allowed for her to spend as much money as she liked on her jewels and gowns, so it had been a easy matter of sending the bills to her mother's solicitor. Since she could afford to be generous in this fashion, she picked out the things she liked the most, regardless of price.

  “You know, you keep throwing money around like that and the entire ton will be after you for your money, love.” Mel teased.

  “Do you really think so?” Kristen asked hopefully.

  Mel rolled her eyes and hooked her arm through Kristen's. “You need to relax, m'dear. You will be positively stunning, I promise you. Why, if you had come out when I did, I think it would have been you who had shined that season and not me.”

  Kristen frowned. “I think you give me far too much credit.”

  "Nonsense and I know just how to prove it. It's time for tea with Lady Wentworth and her eldest daughter, Lady Jane."

  Mel dragged Kristen to their carriage, and as Kristen climbed in, grateful to be off her feet, Mel gave the driver instructions to take them to the Albany. The short ride was not enough time to prepare Kristen for what came next. She had never met a woman so nasty as the Lady Wentworth. Mel had told Kristen that the lady's bitterness was merely because it was difficult to marry off such plain girls when beauties like themselves existed.

  "You perhaps, but certainly not me." Kristen insisted.

  She didn't think she was ugly by any means, but she often thought that Mel over-exaggerated her looks.

  "Posh! You are quite beautiful, and the Lady Wentworth will hate you. But, fear not, her disapproval often means that your invites will increase twice over. It's a good thing to be despised by her."

  And despised Kristen was. She spent two hours in the miserable company of the older woman who asked every question under the sun about her parentage and where she had acquired her money. The official story that her family had always gone with was that they had moved to England about twenty years ago after completing a great service to the king. In truth, Kristen's grandfather and the king of England had been friends and were quite close, so it wasn't too far from the truth to begin with.

  What they left out was the fact that her grandfather was the rightful kind of Norway, and due to war with a tyrant chieftain, they left to avoid persecution and save their people. Kristen didn't think that would win her any points with her peers. The only person who knew her true parentage was Mel. But, when Kristen finished her story, the Lady Wentworth merely looked at her with assessing eyes and scoffed.

  "My dear girl, your parentage is riddled with holes and questions. I shan't be surprised if the ton runs you out of town within the week." The old woman brusquely stood up and ushered her very ordinary looking daughter out of the hotel, leaving Kristen and Mel to pay the bill.

  Kristen looked at Mel, shocked and horrified, but Mel leaned back in her chair
and sipped tea from her cup. A mischievous grin danced on her lips.

  "Well?" Kristen asked nervously.

  "You did beautifully. Lady Wentworth will spread that tale as far and wide as she can, and you mark my words, you will have more invitations than you will know what to do with. Every eligible bachelor in town will be waiting with bated breath to see the newest beauty in town."

  "Yes, but will my parentage be a problem?"

  "What utter nonsense. When the king granted your family refuge in England, he appointed your grandfather as Earl of Lynnester. It's well documented that the appointment was made. So what if the circumstances are not open to public scrutiny, all that will matter is that you are whom you say you are."

  Kristen nodded, not at all sure that Mel was right. But, she trusted Mel and let the matter rest. After all, Mel had more experience in the social whirl than Kristen did, and she would need Mel to help her navigate. But, she wasn't given long to contemplate it all before Mel bustled her out of the hotel to hurry home for their interviews.

  ***

  Once they reached Mel's townhome, Kristen's first interview was waiting for her. Mel allowed her use of the parlor for the interviews, so Kristen handed her things to Chester and then escorted the woman into the parlor. Kristen sat down and began pouring the tea that had been set up for her. She looked up to ask the woman how she liked her tea and stopped when she found the woman still standing by the door, looking at her very disapprovingly. It wasn't a good start to an interview as far as Kristen was concerned. She would not be bullied by a maid.

  "Is there a problem?" Kristen asked sharply as she set the teapot down on its tray.

  The woman cleared her throat, realizing she had overstepped her bounds and shook her head. Kristen nodded and dismissed her, knowing straight away that the woman would not do. As the woman left, Mel escorted the next one in. This time Kristen took the time to invite her to sit down.

  The new candidate was homely and a bit older. Kristen smiled warmly at her and the woman politely inclined her head, but there was no emotion in her eyes. Kristen got the impression that the woman had long ago closed herself off to emotion. As passionate as Kristen was that simply wouldn't do.

  "So, tell me about yourself. Do you have any family?"

  "No, mum." The woman said dryly.

  "Well, what are your interests?" Kristen tried.

  "My interests, mum?"

  "Yes, what is it you like to do for fun?"

  "I wash the sheets, mum."

  Kristen frowned. This woman had no joy in life, no sense of humor. While Kristen felt for her, she certainly wasn't someone Kristen could have around on a regular basis. Kristen thanked the woman for her time and dismissed her. As she left, Mel escorted the next woman in. This one was bubbly and happy, almost too much so, Kristen noted. But, she smiled and offered her tea anyway. The woman took it and sat down next to Kristen.

  "I have a good feeling about this, miss. We're going to be the best of friends."

  Kristen smiled awkwardly and scooted over a little to give them some room between each other. The woman, not taking the hint, scooted closer to Kristen. "Uh, so tell me about your background Miss..."

  "Oh please, call me Darla. I've been with three families, miss. The last family, the wife didn't like that the husband was so grabby. I've got curves you see. But, well, that's not really important. But, I'm right handy with sewing, and I'm very prompt." The woman's smile faltered a little, but then she plastered it back on her face, brighter than before.

  Kristen had no idea what Mel had put in the ad, but the women who had applied so far were simply ill-suited to Kristen. Knowing herself as she did, Kristen knew she would lose her patience with this one.

  "Listen, Miss - "

  "Darla. Call me Darla."

  "Right. Darla, listen. I'm new to London society, and I need someone who can keep things to themselves, you understand?"

  "Oh, yes mum. I'm good at keeping secrets. Did you have an affair with a married man, and now you're looking for a husband to cover up the pregnancy?" She giggled delightedly.

  Kristen was appalled. No wonder the woman was going through jobs. She stood up and moved to the door. "I believe I have all I need. Thank you for your time."

  "Did I get the job?" Darla asked hopefully.

  "No, I'm afraid not."

  Darla lost her smile. Tears shimmered in her eyes. "I'm a really good worker, miss. What could I do differently?"

  Kristen felt a twinge of guilt. She hadn't meant to be so harsh with the woman, but Darla had brashly insulted Kristen and didn't seem to think anything of it. So, Kristen decided to offer her some advice for her next interview.

  "During your next interview, keep your personal distance, don't talk so much, and don't insult your potential employer."

  Darla looked at Kristen with wide-eyed amazement. Kristen was worried this would be all over London before the day was out, and she was sure that Darla's made up story about the affair would go with it, but she would not be saddled with a woman who annoyed her. Darla closed her mouth, and the anger took over.

  "Well, I never - " She started to say more, but then remembered herself.

  Kristen arched a brow, but Darla said nothing else. She huffed past Kristen to the door, but Kristen grabbed the woman's arm before she reached it. The thing about being a Viking's daughter, she knew every pressure point on the body to cause the most pain without leaving a mark on the person. She pressed the point on the inside of the woman's elbow, and Darla fell to her knees. She gasped and looked at Kristen in surprise.

  "If you spread that nasty little tale you just made up, I promise you will regret it." Kristen said icily.

  "Yes, mum." Darla was shaking as Kristen released her.

  She stood up from the floor and rubbed her arm before dashing out of the room in a scared fit. Kristen watched angrily, only to see Mel approaching with one more candidate. The death look that Mel got for her efforts had her swinging around and asking the girl behind her to wait just a moment. Then she faced Kristen and dragged her back into the parlor.

  "What the devil was that. The poor woman was in tears, Kristen." Mel asked hotly.

  "She accused me of having an affair with a married man and then seeking a husband to hide the pregnancy." Kristen grouched.

  "She what?"

  "You heard me, I didn't stutter."

  Mel crossed her arms and gave Kristen a reproachful look for that bit of sass but didn't argue the point. She sighed and untangled her arms to hug Kristen.

  "Love, this part is almost over. I think you will like this last one."

  Kristen rolled her eyes, but motioned to let the girl in. Kristen didn't share Mel's optimism about liking the girl, but at least she was closer to Kristen's age, which meant they may have something in common. Mel, oblivious to Kristen's disagreement, opened the parlor door and escorted the girl in. She made the necessary introductions and then left them to it.

  "So, Sarah, was it?"

  "Yes, m'lady." Sarah curtsied.

  Kristen noticed she was polite right off. There was no artificial sweetness to her, she was simply pleasant. That gave Kristen reason to lower her defenses a little.

  "Please, have a seat. Would you like some tea?" Kristen offered.

  "Thank you, m'lady. I would love some tea."

  Kristen poured the tea. She was good at hiding her emotions when she was of a need to, but there was something about this girl that didn't sit well with Kristen. It wasn't the girl who was the problem, rather something she had been through. The girl was doing her best to hide it, but Kristen noticed the nervous way she gripped the tea cup when it was handed to her, and she also noticed the way Sarah kept looking around as if scared to be caught.

  "You're not really a maid, are you?" Kristen asked.

  Sarah nearly choked on her tea. "Yes, m'lady. I was trained by my mother - "

  "I'm not a big fan of lies, Sarah." Kristen sat back with her tea cup.

  Aside from the
nervousness and fear, Sarah's skin was quite smooth and clear. Her cheekbones and brow were the mark of a woman born to wealth. And, the maid's outfit she was wearing was at least two sizes too large. Kristen watched as Sarah wrestled with herself about what to do.

  "You're right, m'lady. I was a governess before, but for circumstances outside of my control, I am unable to return to that life."

  Kristen eyed her warily, though she was in no position to judge anyone for keeping their own secrets. She nodded her head.

  "Very well. Your past is your own, I shall not pry. So long as it doesn't interfere with your duties here. However, if you're in some kind of trouble, it would be best to tell me about it as I may be able to help you."

  "No trouble, m'lady. Just bad memories."

  "As you wish. When can you start?"

  Kristen knew perfectly well this girl was in serious trouble, and she wasn't part of the working class either. She had no idea who Sarah was, or if that was even her real name, but she felt the need to help her, to protect her. The best way to do that was to hire her until she trusted Kristen, and then maybe she could learn Sarah's secret and help her.

  "I am available whenever you need me, m'lady."

  "Excellent. You start right now. The first order of business is that, in private of course, you call me Kristen. I'll have enough of the m'lady's when the season actually starts, I'll not have it with you. Understand?"

  "Yes, Kristen."

  Kristen smiled. "Smart girl. Now, come along. I'll show you to your duties."

  They left the parlor and Mel was quite pleased to see that she was right. Mel also felt there was something about Sarah that cried out for help, and she knew Kristen well enough to know that Kristen wouldn't turn her back on the girl. The other women had been bitter and well past being helped. At that point, they weren't willing to do for themselves. But, Mel knew Sarah was different. She wanted help, she just didn't know how to ask for it. If Mel was a betting lady, which she wasn't, but if she was, she would say that Sarah was nobility, and she was running from something that scared her enough to disguise herself as a maid.

  Chapter 9