She captivated him again with her winsomeness. Blood raced through his veins at breakneck speed. A woman shouldn’t be able to do that with just a smile. It was past time to send Miss Forster on her way.
“Then where do you propose I escort you?”
He couldn’t leave her alone in the middle of the ballroom. He was much too much of a gentleman.
“There’s Lady Smitherton over there. She’s a dear friend of mine and I’m quite sure she would love to look after me.” She didn’t appear thrilled with the idea at all. In fact, she seemed a little put out.
Taviston turned her in the direction she had indicated. Lady Smitherton was eighty if she was a day and she was a “dear friend” of hers? How odd. Come to think of it, as he had trailed her every move earlier in the evening, he couldn’t recall her conversing with any person under the age of sixty.
They stopped in front of Lady Smitherton. He threw Miss Forster a curious glance, but she refused to look at him. She dropped a quick curtsy and said to his shoes, “Thank you for the dance, Your Grace. I wish you a good evening.” Then she turned and began an animated conversation with her “dear” friend.
Taviston wasn’t accustomed to being dismissed. Nevertheless, he took the hint. He spent the rest of the evening avoiding his mother, his best friend, and his best friend’s wife. Not an easy feat. He also kept an eye on Miss Forster and her cousin. When he saw them bidding acquaintances good night and heading for the door, he did the same.
Chapter Eight
Victoria was more than relieved Louisa hadn’t wanted to stay at the ball too long after the midnight supper. Currently sprawled across her bed, she stared at the ceiling. Exhaustion infiltrated every muscle and bone in her body, including her brain. What a bizarre evening.
As Louisa had dragged her into the circle of the Northfields, the Duke of Taviston, and his mother, her cousin’s nefarious purpose in keeping her close all evening had become clear to her. Louisa had hoped to prove the duke’s statement about their introduction a lie, which of course it was. She couldn’t believe Louisa’s audacity in confronting the duchess in public over the matter. But she had.
She’d been further dumbfounded when Lady Northfield, with whom she had only the barest of acquaintance, had surreptitiously supplied her name to the duchess. And not one, but two falsehoods had slipped graciously from that worthy lady’s tongue. Lies were second nature to those Tavistons!
But she was far from done being bewildered, astounded, and confounded. Louisa had then pushed her, literally, into dancing with the duke. Her cousin knew well enough she had no talent for dancing. She had made a complete fool of herself and no doubt the duke as well, with her ungainly lurching and tripping.
And oh goodness, when she had tripped and been caught by Taviston. Her bosom had ached with some unknown yearning at the contact. Contact through her chemise, corset, and dress and his shirt and coat, no less. His touch unnerved her.
She had loved it, though, when he laughed at her joke but soon after, his grey eyes had turned dark and stormy, though she didn’t know why. And once again he had dismissed her breezily. She couldn’t blame him for not wishing to spend any more time with her. Every time they met things seemed to go disastrously.
“Meow!” Arthur jumped on the bed and promptly began swatting at one of the many feathers that adorned her gown.
“Oh, Arthur. Must you have your walk tonight? Couldn’t we miss it this one time?”
“Meooowwww!”
Apparently not.
“Ungrateful wretch!” The soft scratching she gave his head belied the harshness of her tone. “Let me change into something more comfortable and less hideous.”
Ten minutes later Victoria had Arthur firmly on his lead and headed out the front door with Timothy just behind her. When she saw the figure of a man leaning against the area railing she stopped so suddenly on the last step that Timothy ran into her and bumped her down the final step. The footman muttered an apology.
“Good evening again, Miss Forster.”
“Whatever are you doing here?” Victoria asked, then added hastily, “Your Grace.”
He still wore his formal evening wear, underneath his cloak.
“I myself enjoy an evening constitutional so I thought I might accompany you and Arthur.”
That clarified nothing. The duke had followed her around a ballroom for most of the evening and now he was here, at her home? Perhaps there was just a touch of madness running through the veins of his family. That would help explain the ease with which they fabricated stories.
He stood silently before her, awaiting her answer though he really hadn’t asked a question. She relented, because despite her misgivings, His Grace intrigued her. “I suppose there would be no harm in our walking together, but I must admit I am still confused as to why you are waiting here for me. Are you attempting to verify the information I gave you the other night?”
She did not care if he thought her rude for questioning his motives. Her life had turned topsy-turvy the moment he’d accosted her.
Casually, he picked up Arthur’s lead, which must have slipped from her hand, and began walking. Victoria put her feet in motion and drew even beside him. Timothy followed in their wake.
“I assure you I am doing no such thing, Miss Forster. I often take a walk in the late evening. What do you imagine I was doing when we chanced upon one another?” He paused and tipped his head forward in acknowledgement. “I will admit, as well, that I have your safety in mind. Despite the presence of the formidable Timothy, I will rest easier if I stroll with you.”
That was unexpectedly kind. No one had worried for her since her father had passed away. “I thank you for your concern.”
They strolled on in silence for several minutes. The night was chilly, but cloudless. The streets weren’t quite as deserted as they had been the other night, but no one seemed to pay them any attention. Most of Mayfair’s citizens weren’t walking, either; they rode home from their evening entertainments in carriages. There wasn’t much moonlight and shrouded as she was by her cloak, Victoria doubted anyone could recognize her. Louisa could not hear of this. The refrain of her current life.
As they headed across Oxford Street, Taviston broke the silence. “I must confess, Miss Forster, my curiosity has still got the better of me, though perhaps I could have been less blunt at the ball. How did this wayward feline end up in my home?”
Victoria hesitated, but his tone was mild, and she did owe him an explanation. She launched into an account of the events that had occurred after they had parted ways that night. He listened attentively and made no comments as she related her story.
“Your cat just wanders into other people’s houses?” he asked, clearly unable to fathom such rude behavior.
“I’m afraid so. He probably doesn’t attach much importance to the ownership of houses. Arthur’s main goal in life is to satisfy his stomach. He’s learned good meals are to be found in houses. His escaping into houses wasn’t such a problem in the country. The villagers and neighbors knew who he was. They fed him and let him stay as long as he wanted. He would eventually come back to me. Mysteriously, many of the local female cats were blessed with litters of grey kittens.”
She laughed awkwardly, uncertain how the duke would react to such humor. Oh well, it seemed as if she were never able to do anything properly in the company of this exalted gentleman.
Surprisingly, she could have sworn she heard a fair amount of amusement in His Grace’s voice when he scolded Arthur, “You little devil! In what county might all these illegitimate issue be found?”
“Lincolnshire. A little village called Rippingale. Louisa and Mr. Browne left me to rusticate there. He because he forgot about me and she because she hasn’t been overly fond of me lately. I have no idea why; we got along famously as children.” Victoria swallowed and thanked the heavens the duke couldn’t see her blush. He’d asked about Arthur, not about her. “Anyway, Mr. Browne has a lovely manor house there. The household staff
treated me very well and they treated Arthur even better. He’s certainly the most spoiled feline I know.”
“Meow.” Arthur seemed to concur.
Afraid to allow a floundering silence to engulf them, Victoria rambled on. “The villagers were an interesting lot. Old Mrs. Crane was deathly afraid of Arthur. She said his orange eyes indicated an evil spirit. She actually tried to hang a cross around his neck one day.”
Taviston surely regretted his decision to accompany her.
“It sounds as if the two of you enjoyed country life. Why then, are you here in London?”
Yet he was full of questions.
What was the harm in answering? She’d never see the man again, especially after she bored him with her life story. “Mr. Browne suddenly realized how near the proverbial shelf I was. Needless to say, he is quite the rattlepate. He could have been rid of me years ago. But he finally comprehended that if I wasn’t married off soon, he would be stuck supporting me for the rest of my life. Once he realized his mistake, he immediately planned this Season for me. I am doing my best to make it a successful one. There is nothing I would like more than to be married and away from my cousin.”
Well, married and cherished with a family of her own but that was none of His Grace’s business. Surely the admission of eager husband-hunting would send the duke running in the opposite direction. Revealing her every feeling to a stranger. Whatever came next didn’t bear thinking.
“Am I to understand, then, that you have no other family?” he asked.
He certainly was inquisitive. He couldn’t possibly want to know her entire history. However, if he asked, she would answer. Who was she to question her superior, as Louisa always said.
“Yes. My mother died in childbirth when I was four. The babe as well. My father passed on ten years later. He had no siblings. My mother had one sister—Louisa’s mother. As I said, she and I got along well when we were younger. She was five years older, but I loved to follow her around and she seemed content with that. However, since her husband became my guardian, she’s treated me very differently.”
“You must miss your parents.” Not a question, but a leading statement.
“I miss the idea of having a mother, more than my actual mother. I don’t really remember her well at all. My father... I think about him every day. He was a good man, but he had a lot on his mind. We were always short of funds and he was forever contriving a new scheme to acquire them.” She couldn’t halt the flow of words. “In fact he died trying to do just that. On a particularly sodden night, he rushed to London on our last horse, hoping to make a last-minute investment to raise the family fortunes. The horse slipped on wet leaves, my father lost his seat, fell, and knocked his head against a large rock. A passing coach discovered his body the next morning.”
Victoria’s breath hitched but she focused on the pavement and was able to swallow her sadness. It threatened to return when the duke murmured, “I am terribly sorry for your loss.”
He grew quiet and made no effort to ask another question. They walked on, side by side, with only a few scant inches between them. As with when they danced, Victoria could feel something tingling between them. Almost like a sausage sizzling on the stove. A crackling, sparkling something that made her drift ever closer to him. She concentrated on resisting and decided to ask her own question since he seemed to have run out of them.
“Have you a large family, Your Grace?”
She sensed him stiffen and looked up at his face. He stared straight ahead, his expression blank and shuttered. Victoria wondered if he had been prying into her life in order to avoid questions about his own. He appeared to be a very private man. She returned her gaze forward and waited him out.
Eventually he sighed and answered with all due politeness. “In comparison to you, yes. I have an older sister, two younger brothers, and an assortment of cousins, aunts and uncles.”
Short and to the point, as if he were trying to dissuade her from continuing in that vein. He certainly didn’t know her well. If he was going to intrude on her private walk, then he would endure conversation.
“It must be lovely to have such a family.”
“Mmmm, I suppose it must,” he mused flippantly. But she noticed he cut a sharp glance her way and quickly spoke again, a measure of contriteness in his voice. “I beg your pardon. Yes, it generally is a comfort to have family one can rely on.”
“Who is your favorite sibling?” Did he have a favorite? Perhaps he disliked the whole lot of them. Though if he did, how sad.
“I am especially fond of my sister and my youngest brother. Harriet is married to the Viscount Dunstan and has two young daughters. James is a linguist; speaks five languages. I secured a position for him in the Foreign Office, translating documents. He enjoys it immensely.” Taviston paused but surprised her by continuing on. “Then there is Peyton. He plagues me more than I can say.”
If he was going to open a door into his private world she might as well peer in. “Oh, what does he do to annoy you?”
“He is completely worthless. He’s lazy and irresponsible, and he has absolutely no purpose in his life. He gambles; he drinks; he carouses. He categorically refuses to attend any respectable affairs. The worst of it is, he is forever trying to cajole me into joining him.” He ended this surely uncharacteristic rant with a hiss of disgust.
“Oh,” she said, unable to keep disappointment from coloring the one word. She hadn’t expected him to be so harsh in his judgment of his brother. Honestly, the duke might benefit from some time spent carousing. But surely Lord Peyton couldn’t be such a bad fellow. He must have some redeeming qualities.
He must have read her mind. “I suppose that is a rather severe assessment of Peyton, but he does try my patience. It’s as if he willfully seeks out any activity that will displease me.”
“I am sorry your brother distresses you so, but perhaps you could tell me something nice about him,” Victoria said, trying to lighten the mood. Though now that she thought about it, she would be hard put to come up with something positive to say about Louisa.
“Hmmm. That would be fair, I suppose.” He turned a half smile towards her. “Peyton is the merriest man I know. He is always in good humor and never without a smile on his face. I often think his indolence and unreliability belie a much stronger personality and greater intellect, but alas, he has never proven it to me.”
So, he actually did find some value in his brother. That was nice to know. For a minute she had pitied Lord Peyton Danforth. She could empathize, since she imagined the duke was just as critical of her. How many social gaffes had she committed in his presence so far?
“Why did you wear that gown this evening if you thought it so awful?” Apparently, he’d had enough of her intrusive questions.
Victoria watched her feet rhythmically hit the pavement. She would have loved to put the blame on Louisa's shoulders—where it belonged—but she had no wish to open the door to a host of embarrassing questions that might reveal just how much control her cousin had over her life. So, she replied vaguely, “One must wear something to these affairs.”
Looking up at her surroundings for the first time during their walk, she realized they were in Grosvenor Square. As a matter of fact, they were in front of Taviston House. Excellent. She had something else that needed to be said. Victoria stopped walking and faced the duke.
“Your Grace,” she said in a hesitant voice, “I wish to apologize for my cousin’s behavior this evening.”
Surely that wasn’t a snort she heard?
“I find it truly ridiculous when one person apologizes for another,” Taviston retorted.
She glared at his shadowed face, fighting to control her anger. She was trying to be polite and he could not even accept that graciously. “Well, I do hope you’ll convey my gratitude to your mother for her help this evening.”
“I will certainly do so if you wish, but you may also express your appreciation to her in person when you come to call.” The tem
porary aberration of his unbending just minutes ago had vanished. He was back to being an overbearing ass.
She tried to find her voice, “But that was just—surely she doesn’t—no, we were only pretending.” She hardened her gaze. “Now who’s being ridiculous?”
Taviston took a step closer to Victoria. She attempted to back up but bumped into the area railing and her hood fell back from her head. There was a gleam in his eye.
“I can assure you, Miss Forster, that my mother, the Duchess of Taviston, expects you to call later this week. It would be a fatal breach of etiquette for you, were you to ignore her request.”
As he finished this pronouncement his eyes strayed to the side of her face. She watched, entranced, as he reached out and lightly grasped a strand of her hair that had fallen from her topknot. She expected him to tuck it behind her ear. Instead, he smoothed the lock between his fingers.
“I—I see.” No, she felt. She felt him playing with her hair. She glanced to the side and noted how his long fingers caressed the glossy threads. Who knew or cared what they had been talking about? And since when had it become so warm out? The absurd thought of throwing off her cloak flashed through her mind. She knew it wouldn’t do any good, though; this heat was coming from within. His grey eyes and strong lips came closer as he bent his head toward her.
The front door of Taviston House suddenly clicked open. Arthur, whose lead had been loosely clasped in the duke’s hand, broke away, tearing up the steps and into the house. Both the duke and Victoria jerked themselves upright and stared at the door. Victoria found it hard to breathe. She hoped he would speak first. Thank goodness for small favors.
“Your blasted cat is a menace.”
Despite the severity of his words, his tone lacked any heat. He simply looked thoroughly exasperated. Most likely with both the cat and her.
“I am so, so sorry!” Victoria didn’t know what else to say. If he thought his brother a plague she must be a true blight on his life.
“I don’t suppose he would come if called?” This was said with skepticism. He glanced at the door, drawing her eye that way as well, and she saw Halston standing in the doorway. He must have heard their voices and assumed his employer had returned for the evening.
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