‘It almost came to pass. Mr Fulton did briefly turn to someone else.’
‘Of course, because he is young and foolish and more concerned with appearance than with substance. Frankly, Winifred is better off without him, but she won’t thank me for saying it and your mother won’t be brought around to that way of thinking. She would have continued to resent you, me, and anyone else who had a hand in it. So, all things considered, you chose the right path,’ Uncle Theo said. ‘You told Devlin the truth. Your conscience need not be anything but clear.’
‘But I did not refute it when Laurence told Sir Michael that he was Valentine Lawe. And now he hates me because of it.’
‘From what your father tells me, you had precious little opportunity to do so. Laurence cut you off at every turn.’
‘Nevertheless, I should have found a way,’ Victoria muttered.
‘If you had, it would only have ended up damaging your reputation and destroying Valentine Lawe into the bargain. You’ve read Loftus’s reviews. You know how cutting the man can be. If he took it into his head to question what he had seen at your house, he could have done far more damage than good. As I said, I’ve known Loftus a long time and while he can be very helpful to those he likes, trust me when I say that he is entirely capable of destroying those he does not. Far better it end like this. The sooner you are able to come to terms with that, the better.’
Chapter Fifteen
Alistair gave much thought to his feelings for Victoria over the next few weeks—something that in and of itself surprised him. He usually dismissed people who lied to him without a second thought, unwilling to invest any more time or effort into something that was so obviously destined to fail. But he wasn’t able to dismiss her that easily and he wasn’t sure why.
The day he had gone to her home with a view to speaking to her about his hopes for the future was the day she had revealed that about herself which he, in his wildest dreams, had never imagined. That she was the renowned playwright, Valentine Lawe. Then when he had gone a second time to see her and had encountered Sir Michael Loftus in her drawing room, he had been forced to bear witness to that astonishing scene in which her brother had boldly proclaimed the playwright’s identity as his own—and Victoria had not refuted it.
Was it any wonder he had reacted the way he had? It was only in deference to her that he had not said anything at the time. Because when, after listening to her brother’s explanation of the claim, including his reasons as to why he chose to keep his identity hidden, Alistair had had no choice but to face facts.
Victoria had lied to him. Again. In a moment of clarity, he had seen her ‘confession’ for what it really was: a well-enacted attempt to discourage his attentions by establishing herself as a playwright and, therefore, someone who would be unacceptable to him and to his family. Clearly, any woman who would go to such lengths to put him off could have no genuine feelings for him.
It had all been an act—and because he loved her, he’d believed every word.
‘I like what you’ve done in here,’ Valbourg said as he gazed around the room that would one day be a classroom. ‘Knocking down the wall and opening this up allows in a lot more light.’
‘I didn’t want them studying in a dark, windowless space,’ Alistair said without enthusiasm. ‘A child needs to be able to look out a window and dream.’
His friend glanced at him in surprise. ‘Hardly the type of comment I’d expect from you. I always thought you were more grounded in reality.’
‘If I’m going to give these children a better environment than the one from which they came, such things must be considered.’
‘Then you might like to think about knocking out the end wall in the dining room and putting in a conservatory,’ Valbourg suggested. ‘It faces south, so as well as being an additional source of sunlight, it could be used as a greenhouse for herbs and vegetables.’
‘Capital idea. I’ll have the architect rework the drawings,’ Alistair said. ‘But it will raise the costs.’
‘Not a concern. I’ll make available the necessary funds. Just let me know what you need.’
The two men strolled for a time in silence, examining what progress had been made. Alistair was pleased at how well the renovations were coming along. With luck, he would be able to move the children in before the end of the next month, giving them time to enjoy the warm summer sunshine before the cool winds of autumn blew in. It should have made him happy, yet as he and Valbourg made their way back downstairs and out into the garden, all he could think about was Victoria.
Why was it that everything to do with that damned woman was so wretchedly convoluted?
‘What’s on your mind, Dev?’ Valbourg asked, his eyes on the distant hills.
Surprised, Alistair looked around. ‘Nothing. Why?’
‘You’ve been preoccupied these last few weeks.’
‘Have I?’
‘You know damn well you have.’ Valbourg turned his head to meet his gaze. ‘And that’s not like you.’
Alistair’s jaw clenched. He’d forgotten how insightful his friend could be. ‘I’ve simply had a lot on my mind. Setting all of this up, finalising the plans for the renovations, engaging tradesmen. Not to mention arranging for furnishings and bringing in additional staff. It all takes time and thought.’
‘True, but the Alistair Devlin I remember thrived on that kind of pace,’ Valbourg commented. ‘You made the rest of us look like hopeless laggards at school.’
‘That’s because most of you were hopeless laggards,’ Alistair said drily. ‘But you know me. I’m happiest when I have a lot to occupy my mind.’
‘Then why do I get the feeling there’s still something you’re not all that happy about?’
Alistair smiled, but left the question unanswered. ‘I’m thinking of buying some boats. Thought the older boys might enjoy rowing across the pond.’
‘It would be good exercise for them. I could look into it, if you like.’
Alistair nodded. ‘Thank you, I would.’
They walked on a bit further before Valbourg said casually, ‘I had an interesting conversation with Miss Winifred Bretton the other day.’
‘Did you?’ Alistair let his gaze roam over the still waters of the pond. ‘I wasn’t aware you were seeing her.’
‘I’m not. I went with her and her mother to look at fabrics for the dining room. But I gathered from her conversation that she thinks you’re quite taken with Victoria.’
‘Then she is mistaken,’ Alistair said distantly. ‘I have no feelings for the lady one way or the other.’
‘Yet I understand you’ve spent a good deal of time in her company.’
‘We’ve encountered one another at society events.’
‘And been seen with her in her box at the theatre.’
‘That was for Isabelle’s benefit.’
‘And you took her to visit Mrs Hutchins and the children?’
That was one harder to explain. ‘I offered to drive the lady home, but had to pass by the orphanage on the way.’
‘Dev, I may have been living in America for the past six years, but I haven’t forgotten where things are in London. Green Street is nowhere near the orphanage, so what’s really going on between the two of you?’ Valbourg turned a keen eye on his friend. ‘Did you offer for Miss Bretton and get turned down?’
‘Certainly not.’
‘But you do have feelings for her?’
Alistair wanted to refute it. The words of denial sprang hot and ready to his lips, but he couldn’t utter them because he knew damn well that anger or regret couldn’t live in a vacuum. They could only exist where there had once been strong feelings of love and affection. ‘I had feelings for her,’ he said tersely. ‘But after being made aware of certain truths, my opinion of her changed.’
‘Certain...truths,’ Valbourg echoed. ‘Strange. In the short time I’ve known Miss Bretton, she has always struck me as being a most admirable young woman. Intelligent. Well spoken. Thoughtful.’
‘If you like her so much, why don’t you propose to her?’ Alistair bit off.
‘Because my affections are engaged elsewhere.’
‘With Winifred?’ Alistair asked in surprise.
‘No. You are not acquainted with the lady, and do not ask me to give you her name because I have no intention of doing so,’ Valbourg said, though the smile that accompanied his words removed any possibility of Alistair taking offence. ‘But with regard to the state of affairs between you and Miss Bretton, I hope you will at least make an effort to clarify the situation.’
‘I see nothing that needs clarifying,’ Alistair said, more with bravado than belief.
Clearly, Valbourg knew it too. ‘I disagree. Depending upon from whom you heard these truths, you may wish to ask the lady herself if they are correct.’
‘And if I were to say there was no point?’
Valbourg shrugged. ‘That would depend on how much stock you’re willing to put in the source. If you believe it credible, fine. If you do not...’
‘The source is such that it would be difficult to ignore what was said,’ Alistair replied. Because the source was Laurence Bretton, a man for whom Victoria felt the deepest respect and admiration. Emotions she was never likely to feel for him.
Still, Valbourg was right. He needed to speak to her again. His emotions at the time had been raw. He hadn’t been thinking straight and his reaction had been one of anger and disappointment. Of confusion. But now, having had a few weeks to reflect on the situation and the events of that day, Alistair knew the time was right to broach the subject again and to listen to what Victoria had to say. If she had any feelings left for him at all, surely they would be able to eke out some kind of common ground?
Lord knew he loved her enough to try.
* * *
At Lady Morgan’s soirée that evening, Victoria moved perfunctorily through the steps of a country dance. Her partner, Mr Tifford, was an adequate dancer and a pleasant enough man, but she was not in a mood to appreciate either. She was deeply unsettled and had been ever since Alistair’s abrupt departure from Green Street. Even her conversation with her uncle had done little to mitigate her concerns.
Perhaps she should have felt better, as her uncle tried to make her see, for certainly there were more benefits to the lie than disadvantages. Now Alistair would see that it had never been her intention to mock him or Miss Wright by denying any knowledge of Lawe because she’d had a very good reason for doing so. Perhaps, as Laurence had suggested, Alistair would be able to find it in his heart to forgive her for trying to protect her brother from the prying eyes of society.
But if that was the case, why hadn’t he sought her out?
The dance ended and Victoria was returned by her partner to the chairs lining the wall. She watched her sister being escorted from the floor by Mr Fulton, and saw Sir Anthony Deverill waiting for the next dance. Gone were the worry lines from Winifred’s pretty brow. She was happy and gay, content in the knowledge that she was no longer an outcast and that her situation had, in fact, been improved by her brother’s elevation to the literary world. Would that Victoria could say the same for hers—
‘Miss Bretton, are you engaged for the next dance?’
Victoria’s head snapped round. She had no need to check her card. She knew she was not engaged for the waltz. She simply hadn’t expected Alistair Devlin to ask for it. ‘I am not, Mr Devlin, though I am surprised you would wish to dance with someone you believe to be an actress and a liar.’
She was gratified to see a flush darken his cheeks. ‘My cousin is convinced that you and I have taken each other in dislike. I do not wish her to think that is the case.’
‘Why not? It is the truth.’
‘From your perspective, perhaps.’
‘From both our perspectives. I was left in no doubt as to how you felt about me the last time we parted.’
‘Can you blame me?’
‘Not entirely,’ Victoria said, prepared to be fair. ‘But I resented your unwillingness to give me a chance to explain.’
‘How was I to know that what you told me would be the truth?’ Alistair countered. ‘I believed you when you said you were Valentine Lawe the first time. You did not deny it when your brother made the same claim.’
‘Because I could not deny it!’ Victoria said in frustration. ‘Laurence cut me off every time I attempted to interrupt. Besides, how could I make him look like a fool in front of a man like Sir Michael Loftus? No matter what I said, it would all have come out sounding dreadful.’
‘All right.’ Alistair held out his hand. ‘Then explain it to me now.’
Her eyes widened. ‘What, here?’
‘Why not? The waltz allows us to dance close enough for conversation and the music will cover our words.’
‘I’m not sure I wish to talk about it,’ she said contrarily.
‘Fine.’ His hand stayed where it was. ‘Then dance with me regardless and I shall have no choice but to believe you lied to me for the reasons I put forward at the time.’
‘I did no such thing!’ Victoria said hotly.
When he raised his brows, Victoria realised that her voice had risen and that eyes were turning in their direction. Reluctantly, she put her hand into his. Neither of them could afford to give the gossips anything to talk about. Now that Alistair’s decision not to marry Lady Sarah Millingham had been made public, speculation was rife as to whom he did intend to propose to, and any woman with whom he spent time was viewed as a possible candidate.
Her mother made no secret of the fact that she hoped it might be her elder daughter, but Victoria knew better. Whatever respect Alistair might have felt for her at the beginning of their association was now gone.
She had disappointed him twice. She would not be allowed to do so a third time.
‘You have a noticeable frown between your brows, Miss Bretton,’ Alistair said as he drew her into his arms. ‘Either my company is distasteful or you are deep in thought.’
‘If your company was distasteful, I would not have stood up with you,’ Victoria said, hoping he wouldn’t see how furiously her heart was beating. ‘And I can assure you, my mind is not engaged to any purpose other than the enjoyment of the dance.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. I would not like to think you were dancing with me out of a sense of obligation.’
Victoria averted her gaze. ‘You should know by now that I don’t do anything I have no wish to.’
‘I wonder. Your brother said you claimed the role of Valentine Lawe in order to protect his anonymity, but you must have known what it would do to your reputation if the truth ever came out,’ Alistair said. ‘I cannot believe that was something you anticipated with joy.’
‘You don’t know me well enough to comment.’
‘I thought I did...once.’
Embarrassed, Victoria stopped dead. She tried to back away, but he only tightened his grip. ‘We are being watched and unless you wish to give society something to talk about, I suggest you remain calm in manner and appearance.’
‘I would very much like to do that, Mr Devlin,’ Victoria muttered through clenched teeth, ‘but you do provoke me.’
‘I know.’ Then, unexpectedly, he smiled. ‘Has anyone ever told you how lovely you are when you are provoked?’
He swept her into a turn and in doing so, curved his hand around the small of her waist, drawing her close against his body. Victoria felt the warmth of his breath on her temple, the hardness of his chest against hers, and though the contact was brief, it sent pleasurable shivers through her body. It was the first time they had been in such close proximity
since her brother’s revelation and it brought home to Victoria just how much she missed him. No man had ever had this kind of effect on her before and she doubted one ever would again.
‘By the way, I meant to thank you for your most generous gift,’ Alistair said.
Her eyes rose to his. ‘Gift?’
‘The envelope you left with Mrs Hutchins. I doubt she expected me to arrive so closely upon your heels. The envelope was still lying on the table.’
Victoria felt guilty warmth steal into her cheeks. The urge to deny was strong, but she had made up her mind that there would be no more lies between them. ‘It was not my wish that you should find out the money came from me. I wanted to do something for the children.’
‘Why would you feel the need? I am more than capable of providing all they require.’
‘I know, but having spent time with them, I wanted to do something special myself,’ she said. ‘To feel I had contributed in some way to their betterment, whether it was ribbons for the girls or new shoes for the boys. Or, perhaps, just sweets for their tea.’
His brows rose in amusement. ‘What you left will keep them in sweets well into their dotage.’
The remark surprised a laugh from her. ‘Yes, I suppose it could. But they have so little.’
‘As I said, it is my mission to make sure they have everything they need. But your gift was most thoughtful and I thank you for it.’
Victoria nodded, unable to meet his eyes. Oh, why was this so hard? She had told herself over and over again that it was futile to harbour any hopes of recapturing this man’s good opinion. That she could never live with a man who thought so poorly of her. Why couldn’t she bring herself to believe it?
‘By the by, I recently heard another rumour making its way around town,’ he said. ‘About a certain young lady planning to go abroad.’
Victoria’s lips compressed. There was no need to wonder at the source of that rumour. ‘I’m sorry to hear it has become public knowledge. I did ask Winifred not to say anything.’
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