It was an exceedingly awkward moment for Victoria. Though she understood Miss Wright’s excitement, how could she spend an evening in the company of a man to whom she was barely speaking? Surely he would wish to have nothing more to do with her?
‘Thank you. It is very kind of you to offer,’ she said, ‘but under the circumstances, I think it best I refuse. I hate to think that word of our association might get back to your cousin and her husband.’
‘Oh, but you mustn’t worry about them!’ Miss Wright said. ‘I don’t care what they think and neither does Cousin Alistair. He told them as much in the carriage after we saw you at the opera.’
Victoria blinked. ‘He did?’
‘Isabelle,’ Alistair cautioned, but Miss Wright ignored him.
‘He certainly did. He told them they had no business saying what they did about you and that he would speak to whomever he pleased—’
‘Isabelle, you really do talk too much,’ Alistair said with a weighted sigh. ‘Remind me to take your former governess to task over the matter. But I think you probably should come with us, Miss Bretton. As Cousin Isabelle said, if there is any chance of meeting the esteemed Mr Lawe, surely it is an occasion not to be missed.’
Victoria hardly knew what to say. She could detect no echo of resentment in his voice, and she doubted Miss Wright’s words had been provoking enough to incite any feelings of guilt on his part. But even if the invitation had been motivated by guilt, was she willing to walk away without making any effort to apologise? ‘Thank you, Mr Devlin,’ she said. ‘I shall ask my brother if he is free, and, if so, we would be pleased to join you. Perhaps you would allow me to offer you seats in my uncle’s box.’
‘That would be most kind. But I hope you will come even if your brother does not.’
His eyes were shuttered and there was nothing in his voice to suggest intimacy, yet Victoria felt it keenly and her pulse accelerated. Before she had a chance to reply, however, Winifred interjected, ‘Excuse me, Mr Devlin, but I do believe that gentleman is trying to catch your eye.’
Victoria looked up and saw a man staring in their direction. He was standing on the terrace and, when they all turned to look, he raised his arm to wave.
Alistair just smiled. ‘Excellent. I was hoping he would come.’
‘Do you know the gentleman?’ Victoria asked.
‘Oh, yes. Lord Valbourg and I went to Oxford together, but he’s been in America these past six years, amassing a small fortune,’ Alistair told them. ‘We chanced to meet up at my club last week, after which I asked Lady Hincham to invite him to today’s event.’
‘Poor Lord Valbourg,’ Miss Wright said. ‘His mother, Lady Alderbury, hasn’t been at all well. Mrs Shepherd mentioned it over cards last week. She said it was the reason he came back to England. And to find a wife, of course.’
‘He’s not married?’ Winifred said quickly.
‘He’s been far too busy amassing his fortune,’ Alistair said. ‘But he was also travelling a great deal and that doesn’t leave much time for courting. Valbourg,’ he said as the other man joined them. ‘Glad you could make it.’
‘Sorry I’m late,’ the newcomer said. ‘I’d forgotten how crowded London streets could be.’
‘I doubt Lady Hincham noticed. Miss Bretton, Miss Winifred, allow me to make known to you my good friend, Lord Valbourg.’
Lord Valbourg was a handsome man, slightly heavier in build than Alistair, and perhaps an inch or two taller. He had dark-brown hair cut in a fashionable crop and a thoroughly warm and engaging smile. Victoria liked him at once. ‘Good afternoon, Lord Valbourg.’
‘Miss Bretton, Miss Winifred, pray forgive my intrusion into your conversation.’
‘No apologies are necessary. Mr Devlin tells us the two of you are old friends.’
‘Indeed, from our days together at Oxford.’
‘And you are recently back from America,’ Winifred said, green eyes sparkling. ‘Are you planning to return there in the near future?’
‘I am not. My time in the country served its purpose, but I am looking forward to settling down to the life of an English gentleman again.’
‘And he’s made a good start by taking a house in Berkeley Square,’ Alistair informed them.
‘Berkeley Square,’ Victoria said with a glance at her sister. ‘How nice.’
‘Yes, though it is in desperate need of redecorating,’ Lord Valbourg said. ‘I was going to ask my sister for help, but with our mother being so ill, Mary’s time is fully occupied looking after her.’
‘Perhaps we could lend some assistance in that regard,’ Victoria offered. ‘Mama is likely to know where the best fabrics are to be found and Winifred has exceptional taste when it comes to colours and styles.’
Winifred blinked her surprise. ‘I do?’
‘Indeed. She helped Mama redecorate several rooms in our house in Kent last year,’ Victoria informed the gentleman. ‘She has a superb eye for that sort of thing.’
‘Has she indeed?’ Lord Valbourg turned an admiring gaze on a blushing Winifred. ‘That would be delightful, of course, though I would hate to impose—’
‘Oh, it would be no imposition,’ Winifred assured him quickly. ‘I would be happy to assist in whatever way I could.’
‘Then I shall call upon you in the near future to make arrangements for a shopping expedition. Dev, will I see you at Jackson’s tomorrow morning?’
‘I’ll be there.’
‘Splendid. Then we can talk more about this project of yours and how I might be of assistance. Good afternoon Miss Bretton, Miss Wright, Miss Winifred.’
‘Lord Valbourg,’ Winifred said, a coquettish twinkle back in her eyes. When she turned to Victoria, her face was flushed and glowing. ‘Well, perhaps I should go and see if Mama is in need of anything.’
Aware that the only reason Winifred was anxious to find their mother was to tell her about the handsome Lord Valbourg, Victoria made no demur. Given what an enviable match it could be for her sister, she really couldn’t blame her.
‘And we should probably go too, Cousin Alistair,’ Miss Wright said, sounding less than enthused. ‘Your sister has been glaring at us these past ten minutes.’
Victoria gazed across the garden to where the Archdeacon and his wife were seated under the shade of a large tree and saw that Mrs Baltham was indeed looking daggers in their direction. No doubt due, Victoria thought wryly, to the company her beloved brother was keeping. ‘Then I shall bid you both a good afternoon.’
Alistair bowed. ‘Miss Bretton. Thank you for your offer of assistance. I’m sure Lord Valbourg will be most grateful for the help.’
Their eyes met briefly, and though it did not last long, Victoria was startled by the intensity of his gaze. She couldn’t tell if it was anger, or regret, or a combination of the two, but it left her wondering what thoughts really had been going through his mind.
* * *
The rest of the afternoon seemed strangely anticlimactic. Victoria wanted to put it down to a restlessness to get back to work, but she knew it had more to do with Alistair’s leaving the gathering than it did with her own desire to be anywhere else. She wasn’t sure when the nature of her feelings for him had begun to change, but she knew without question that they had and she was alarmed by the pace at which they were growing. Now the world seemed a far less interesting place when Alistair wasn’t in it. And rather than avoid society events, Victoria found herself seeking them out, especially ones to which she thought he might be invited. She enjoyed being in his company. She liked listening to him talk and she loved watching his face when he expressed an opinion about something in which he was interested—like this unknown project Lord Valbourg had referred to.
Nothing more had been said about it, but Victoria had seen the glint in Alistair’s eye when the topic was raise
d. She might have asked him about it had he not been forced to rejoin his sister and brother-in-law, and, given that she didn’t see Lord Valbourg again, she was not provided an opportunity to ask that gentleman about it either. Nevertheless, Valbourg’s name did come up frequently during dinner that evening, so much so that Victoria’s father finally had to beg his wife and younger daughter to cease and desist.
‘But this was a highly fortuitous meeting, Mr Bretton,’ his wife said. ‘Lord Valbourg is the Marquess of Alderbury’s son. He would make a wonderful husband for Winifred, far better than Mr Fulton. Surely you realise that.’
‘I do, and I have heard Lord Valbourg praised in more ways than any one gentleman has a right to be praised,’ Mr Bretton said. ‘But for pity’s sake, can we speak of nothing else? He and Winifred are but once met and a long way from standing before the altar reciting their vows.’
So chastised, Mrs Bretton refrained from comment and the conversation moved on to other subjects. But a few minutes later, Victoria sincerely wished it had remained on Lord Valbourg.
‘By the by, Lady Hincham told me this afternoon that Lady Kempton is hopeful of a match between her son and Lord Geldon’s daughter,’ Mrs Bretton said.
‘Lady Sarah Millingham?’ Laurence frowned. ‘Isn’t she a bit young for Devlin?’
‘She is young, and flighty by all accounts, which is why Lord Geldon approached Lord Kempton about the match,’ Mrs Bretton said. ‘He feels Mr Devlin would be a steadying influence on his daughter, and apparently she is quite taken with him. It would be an excellent match for her.’
‘But considerably less so for him,’ Laurence observed. ‘Devlin doesn’t strike me as the sort of man who would be led willingly into his future, or who would enjoy the company of such a young girl.’
Victoria shared her brother’s opinion. The idea that Alistair might actually contemplate marriage to Lady Sarah Millingham caused her heart to wrench in the most painful manner. She might be guilty of discouraging him, but that was only because she knew there was no possibility of a relationship between them. Her uncle’s startling revelations about Hugh Devlin had reinforced that. Nevertheless, if she had been of a mind to choose an aristocratic husband, Alistair would have been the only one she would have set her heart on and she would have done everything she could to attract him. If she felt that way about him, why would every other woman not feel the same?
‘Well, all I know is that we must do everything we can to further this association between Winifred and Lord Valbourg,’ Mrs Bretton said. ‘And that means you must be more mindful than ever about what you say and where you are seen, Victoria. If things do not go well for Winifred with Mr Fulton, I don’t want you jeopardising her chances with this other gentleman.’
‘Rest assured I will not.’ Victoria wearily got to her feet. ‘Believe it or not, Mama, I am as anxious to see Winifred settled as you are. And I intend to do everything in my power to make sure nothing happens to put that at risk.’
Chapter Seven
As it turned out, Laurence was more than happy to escort Victoria to the seventh performance of her play. Having been informed of Miss Wright’s belief that Valentine Lawe would be in the audience, he found it highly amusing that Victoria should be there to witness the excitement and he was quite prepared to go along for the ride. Naturally his accompaniment removed any possible hint of scandal being attached to Victoria’s joining Alistair Devlin and his cousin in her uncle’s box.
As well, in an attempt to keep up appearances, Victoria did not slip into the theatre through the stage door as she had in the past, but instead walked in through the front doors with everyone else. Several people nodded in her direction, but Victoria received no welcome as enthusiastic as that of Miss Wright, when she arrived at the box to find her and Alistair already seated within.
‘Oh, I am so glad you came!’ Miss Wright said. ‘I knew you would be as excited as I by the prospect of finally seeing Valentine Lawe!’
‘It was certainly a big part of my reason for coming,’ Victoria acknowledged, glad Laurence wasn’t around to hear the remark. ‘Good evening, Mr Devlin.’
‘Miss Bretton. Will your brother not be joining us?’
‘He will, but he chanced to see one of his old professors in the vestibule and stopped to have a word.’
Settling into her seat, Victoria cast a surreptitious glance in Alistair’s direction. He was as handsome as ever in a black cutaway coat over an exquisitely embroidered silver waistcoat. Black trousers made him look even taller than he was and his cravat was tied elegantly, but with a minimum of fuss. His hair looked to have been freshly trimmed and his voice...oh, yes, that was definitely a voice that could have stirred the multitudes...
‘—nice of you to offer us the use of your box,’ Miss Wright was saying. ‘If I lived in London I would always take a box for the Season. It’s such fun to watch everyone else. Oh, look, isn’t that Lady Sarah?’
Victoria glanced across the theatre at the row of boxes below hers and saw the young lady in question gazing avidly back at them. Or, more to the point, at Alistair.
‘I’ll wager she’s wondering who you’re with, Cousin,’ Miss Wright said with an impish grin. ‘Are you acquainted with Lady Sarah, Miss Bretton?’
‘I am not,’ Victoria said, returning her attention to the stage where movements behind the curtain indicated that the last of the props were being set out. ‘Except by name.’
‘She’s quite nice, though I can’t imagine why anyone would think she would make a good wife for Cousin Alistair.’
‘Isabelle, you speak of things you should not!’ he said darkly.
‘Do I?’ His cousin blinked. ‘I’m sorry. I thought it was common knowledge that your mother and father were hopeful of a marriage between the two of you.’
‘Whether it is common knowledge or not, it is not the thing to speak of in situations like these.’
‘Situations like what? We are here with Miss Bretton to watch a play. She must be aware of what people in society are saying about you. Everyone else is.’
‘Evening, all,’ Laurence said, stepping into the box.
‘Laurence!’ More grateful than she could say for her brother’s arrival, Victoria grabbed his arm and drew him forwards. ‘You remember Mr Devlin’s cousin?’
‘Of course. Good evening, Miss Wright.’
‘Mr Bretton.’ The girl’s cheeks were two bright spots of colour. ‘How nice to see you again.’
‘And, of course, Mr Devlin.’
‘Your servant, sir.’ Laurence sat down in the chair next to his sister, the one on the other side already occupied by Devlin. ‘My, my, another sold-out performance. This Valentine Lawe certainly knows how to pack them in.’
‘Do you think he’s here?’ Miss Wright asked breathlessly.
‘If he is, none of us will be any the wiser,’ Alistair said. ‘Unless he stands up and proclaims himself.’
‘Which he is hardly likely to do,’ Laurence said. ‘Lawe has taken the art of concealment to a whole new level.’
‘But what has he to conceal?’ Miss Wright asked. ‘Why would anyone so brilliant wish to hide his talent away? If I was that clever, I would stand up and invite the audience’s applause.’
‘Perhaps he is disfigured,’ Alistair suggested. ‘His face too ugly or scarred to be seen.’
‘Or he could just be shy,’ Miss Wright said. ‘A man uncomfortable with all the accolades.’ She turned her head to look at Laurence. ‘What do you think, Mr Bretton?’
Laurence looked decidedly taken aback by the question. ‘Me?’
‘Well, surely you have an opinion as to why the man continues to shun society. Do you believe him ugly or disfigured as my cousin suggests, or do you think he is shy and has no wish for the company of others?’
‘To be honest, I’ve never
given it a moment’s thought. I accept the man’s brilliance, but as to his personal likes and dislikes, I have no opinion whatsoever.’
‘And you, Miss Bretton?’ Alistair said. ‘You are keeping rather quiet on the subject.’
‘Only because to speculate on Valentine Lawe’s reasons for remaining anonymous would be a complete waste of time.’ Victoria opened her fan and took care not to look at him. ‘The man himself is the only one who can say why he does not seek recognition.’
‘Oh, look, there is your uncle!’ Miss Wright said, her gaze moving to the stage below. ‘We are about to get underway.’
Fixing her attention on the stage, Victoria quietly exhaled a sigh of relief. She was beginning to hate all this talk about Valentine Lawe. She kept telling herself she had no reason to do so, that Alistair had no way of knowing who she was, and while she was sure his question had been motivated purely out of interest, she was growing more and more uncomfortable with the deception. If ever there was a time to reveal herself, it was now, yet fear of reprisal held her back. She would be risking a great deal more than her reputation if she was to offer up the truth now. There was Winifred’s future to consider and her mother had made it very clear that no one was to do anything that might put that future at risk.
Confessing that she was Valentine Lawe would certainly do that.
More to the point, while it was highly unlikely that Victoria would ever see Alistair Devlin again once they returned to Kent, she would be forced to see her sister every day and to have to listen to her recriminations. She would be made to understand that if Winifred’s marriage plans fell through, it would all be because of her. Somehow, keeping silent about the true identity of Valentine Lawe in the short term seemed a small price to pay for harmony in the years ahead.
* * *
That evening’s production of A Lady’s Choice was even more enjoyable than the one Victoria had watched on opening night. Signy’s acting was inspired, her love for Elliot more convincing than in any of her showings thus far. And responding in kind, Victor gave one of the best performances of his life. The rest of the cast were equally impressive and, not surprisingly, the audience’s approval rang long and loud at the end of the performance.
No Occupation for a Lady Page 10