He laughed softly. “I loved mathematics in school. Poetry bored me, but with numbers I was happy.”
“I cannot tell you any more than that. I promised the woman I would never reveal her name.”
“Thank you.”
Anthony knew she was waiting for him to admit his secret but he had no idea how to do so without telling her everything. But as she said, they could reveal some of the secrets without telling the entire truth. He could at least try.
“When I was ten, two days before Christmas, I was told my mother died in a carriage accident.”
Her eyes widened and she reached for his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“You had lost both parents by then.” He squeezed her hand. “For eight years, I lived with my father believing what he’d told me. Then that night ten years ago, I found out differently.”
“What do you mean? Your mother didn’t die in a carriage accident?”
He closed his eyes to block out the pain he felt whenever he thought about that night. “I found out my mother was still alive.”
“Are you certain?”
“Very. After I found out the truth, I picked up a bottle of brandy and ended up at St. George’s.”
“Well that explains quite a bit. But did your parents reconcile?”
He almost laughed aloud. “No. She wants nothing to do with my father. She left because he had kept not just one but several mistresses and one even had his child.”
“Does he know that she is still alive?” she whispered. “It must have been dreadfully hard when he found out the truth.”
This time he did laugh, albeit scornfully. “Yes, it must have been hard on him especially since he’d known for eight years. He is the one who made up the story about the carriage accident.”
She covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, my God,” she mumbled. “Did she run off with another man?”
“Not quite.” Men, maybe but not just one. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you more about her without disclosing things I have promised to keep secret.”
She put her finger against his cold lips. “Then do not say another word.”
He kissed her finger and then held it in his hand. “I must. There is no justification for how I treated you this afternoon. But I am more sorry than I can ever express to you.”
He cupped her frigid cheeks and kissed her softly. “I promise I will never treat you like that again.”
“Thank you, Somerton.”
“I would not mind if you called me Anthony.”
She smiled against his lips and kissed him again. “Thank you, Anthony.”
“Ancroft told me I should have told you days ago why I am here.”
She looked up into his eyes. “You have decided to trust me?”
He smiled down at her. “Perhaps just a little. A man I do some work for asked me to watch Hardy. There is a rumor that there may be an attempt on the regent’s life. Hardy is suspected of being the messenger.”
“That is why you are looking for a note on him.”
“Exactly.”
Her brows furrowed deeply. “But why didn’t you come to me? You know I can pick his pocket. And being a woman, I can get much closer to him without drawing suspicion.”
“I didn’t want to drag you into this, Victoria. I have no idea what Hardy is capable of doing.”
“Thank you for telling me this. If I see Hardy with anymore notes, I will tell you.”
“We need to go back inside before you freeze completely.” He rose and held out his hand for her. Once she stood next to him, he said, “I need you to do me an important favor. I know I don’t deserve your assistance after this—”
“What do you need?” she interrupted.
“Can you keep Hardy busy downstairs while I check his room again?”
“He asked me to either attend the mummers’ play or join him in cards tonight. I will determine which he has decided to do and try to engage him while you investigate his room. How long will it take you?”
He pulled out his pocket watch and held it out to see in the moonlight. “I will need at least thirty minutes. I will return to the salon once I am finished.”
“Very well.” She brought her hand up to his cheek. “Be careful tonight.”
“I plan to. Do not let Hardy take you to a room alone.” As much as he tried, there was still a slight tone of jealousy to his voice.
“I have no intention of doing that.”
They walked together in a comfortable silence toward the house. He wondered if she could ever truly forgive him for his actions of both today and ten years ago. He wanted to make it up to her in some way but knew of nothing that would help. Perhaps some day, she could tell him more about her past. There were still things she kept from him whether from a promise to another or not.
Asking her for more was hardly fair when he could never reveal the identity of his mother…or half sister.
Victoria first entered the ballroom where the mummers were set to entertain. Old Father Christmas stepped across the stage to introduce the play and the characters. She glanced at the people seated and could not find Hardy.
Praying that he hadn’t retired to his room, she entered the salon where card games along with chess and backgammon were set out for the guests. She found Hardy standing near a window, watching the games in play. Slowly, she made her way over to his location.
“Mr. Hardy,” she said as she neared him. “I am feeling much better now and would love to play cards.”
“How about backgammon instead? There is a table set for two over there,” he replied, pointing to a small table set away from most of the others.
“All right, but I have to admit I am not very skilled at that game.”
“I shall teach you some strategies.” He held out his arm for her to link.
After a moment of hesitation, she took his arm and they walked to the table. She took her seat and stared at the board. Lady Whitely had taught her to play several years ago, but Victoria hadn’t touched the game since.
“Why don’t you go first since I haven’t played in awhile?”
“Of course,” he answered, then quickly reviewed the rules of the game and some simple strategies.
Victoria sneaked a quick glance at the clock on the mantel. It was already half past ten, so she needed to keep him occupied until at least eleven.
“Bored with the game already? Or are you bored with me?” he asked when she returned her gaze to the board.
“Neither. I was just checking the time. I did not realize how long I had been gone from the house.”
He sat back as she took her turn and smiled. “Yes, did the fresh air help your headache or did Somerton’s company help?”
She tried to hide her shock by staring at him directly and arching an eyebrow. “Somerton joined me outside without my permission. However, I did take the time to speak to him about my desire to end the relationship.”
“Was that before or after he kissed you?”
The man had outright admitted to spying on her! “That peck on my lips was nothing more than a kiss good-bye.”
“Is he leaving, then?” Hardy glanced around the room as if to verify that Somerton wasn’t in the room.
She took her turn and moved her checkers. “He said he preferred to stay. Unfortunately, Lady Farleigh is out of bedrooms so we will continue to stay in the same room. He did offer to sleep on the sofa.”
“You could stay with me,” he offered as he rolled the dice.
“I could, but I would not wish to embarrass Lord Somerton in front of everyone. Besides, he is a very jealous man.”
“So I have heard. Did things end well?”
She watched as he moved his checkers and then moved one of hers off the board. “As well as could be expected. He was not surprised since we have been arguing more than ever lately.”
“I see. How soon after we return to London can I call upon you?”
She needed an excuse to keep him away! “After the new year. I must
spend Christmas with my sister.”
“Ahh, the same sister who is having a birthday today?”
“Yes.”
“And what is her name?”
Name? He wanted a name! Why was the man interrogating her? “Mrs. Lillian Johnson. She and her husband David live in a small home on Hereford Street.” She leaned in closer to the table and him. “She married beneath herself. My father wanted her to marry a squire near Carlisle.”
“Why didn’t she do as her father expected?”
She really was far too good at telling stories. Perhaps she should speak with her friend Avis upon her return and talk with her about writing. “She and David skipped off to Gretna Green. By the time they had returned, she was already with child. My father was scandalized.”
“And I would guess your mother, too,” he added.
“Alas, my mother passed before that happened.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, then took his turn.
Victoria glanced up again at the clock. Somerton said thirty minutes and already thirty-five had passed with no sign of him. She looked down at the board and realized Hardy had several of his checkers already in. He could win the game in a turn or two. She had to come up with something to occupy his time until Somerton returned.
“So do you plan to visit your mother over the Christmas season?” she asked to keep their conversation going.
“It will depend on some things I have in progress.”
What an odd answer. “What type of things do you have in progress?”
He waved a hand at her and shook his head. “Just business things. Nothing that would interest you.”
She smiled in what she hoped was a seductive manner. “Oh, you might be wrong. I find everything about you fascinating.”
“Do you now? Perhaps when I get to know you better I will confide in you. But not until I know I can trust you.”
She blinked in surprise. “Trust me? Why wouldn’t you trust me?”
“You are still far too close to Somerton. And I do not trust him. He has barely given Farleigh the time of day for years because of his marriage to Hannah.”
“Why would Somerton care about that?”
“She and Somerton were close before she met Farleigh. Then he shows up here with you. There is more to his being here than just wanting to be at a party.”
“Such as?” she prodded.
“I believe he wants Lady Farleigh back in his bed.”
She tried to ignore the way her stomach clenched. “But Lady Farleigh seems very much in love with her husband.”
“All just an act to make Farleigh believe that the little slut is faithful to her husband.”
“Then why would Somerton bring me along?”
Hardy sneered at her. “To make Farleigh believe that he is not a threat to the Farleighs’ marriage. But as you say, you and Somerton have been arguing more. Perhaps that is because he planned to break it off with you to get Lady Farleigh again.”
Victoria chewed on her lower lip in thought. She wanted to believe Hardy was lying about this matter. But as she watched Somerton cross the threshold and glance over at Lady Farleigh, Victoria wondered if Hardy was speaking the truth.
Chapter Sixteen
Anthony watched as Victoria and Hardy continued to play their game of backgammon. After searching Hardy’s room for close to forty-five minutes, he had come up with nothing. Either Hardy was keeping some information on him or the missive had yet to be delivered to him.
Anthony’s frustration with the situation grew with every moment he spent at this damned party. He had to find the note and return Victoria to London before he did something they might both regret.
Nicholas walked up to him casually. “They have been playing backgammon for nearly an hour. Before that, he played a game of cards with Lord Bingham.”
“Thank you, Nicholas.” Anthony lowered his voice to a mere whisper. “I just checked his room and found nothing to incriminate him.”
“Do you think you might have been given the wrong information?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Anthony noticed the strange side glances that Victoria kept giving them. He would have to remind her to be more careful. Hardy might get suspicious. Slowly, she rose from her seat and gave Hardy a secretive smile. The urge to storm over there and kiss her in front of everyone grew.
What was wrong with him?
He had never felt such a strong reaction to a woman before now. Jealousy had never played a part in any relationship he’d had with other women. So why now? Especially when she was merely playing a part.
She walked past him without a look toward either him or Nicholas. He listened as her heels clicked down the marble hall. Noticing Hardy’s gaze on him, Anthony knew he had to wait before following Victoria to their room.
Hardy walked over toward them with a smug smile. All of Anthony’s senses heightened. The man seemed far too comfortable right now. As if he knew something Anthony did not. A slice of fear tracked down his back. Something was wrong.
He didn’t wait any longer and hurried back to his bedroom. Opening the door, he found Victoria sitting in the wingback chair with shoes off and her legs curled under her. He backed up against the door. The sheer beauty of her captivated him. He was a fool to think he could resist her.
“What are you about, Somerton?” she asked though her voice held the tiniest quaver.
“Nothing at all,” he replied.
“Did you find anything in Hardy’s room?”
“No.”
“Somerton, why are you still standing against the door?” she asked. “Are you feeling well?”
Bloody hell, he was not all right. Just seeing her sitting there in that chair had him hard with desire. How was he supposed to sleep in the same bed with her tonight?
“I need to leave,” he mumbled.
“Why?”
He turned toward the door and pounded his fist on it. Why couldn’t she understand how difficult this was for him? Because she did not know.
“If I don’t leave here right now, I am going to pick you up and take you to that bed.” He glanced back at her shocked face. “And we will not be sleeping.”
She licked her full lips sending another rush of blood to his cock. “What if I said that was all right?”
“It isn’t all right, Victoria.” He pounded on the door again. “After what I did to you ten years ago and then almost did today!”
“I thought I meant nothing to you,” she whispered.
He turned and stalked her. Stopping in front of her, he pulled her out of the chair and grabbed her shoulders. “What happened that night forged a bond between us that quite possibly neither of us wants to admit. I never stopped thinking about you or what I did to you. So do not ever think you mean nothing to me. I searched for weeks all over the streets of London, trying to find you again. No one knew of you.”
Victoria’s heart skipped a beat. He’d searched for her. She’d spent weeks believing she had been nothing to him but a release of sexual frustration.
Blinking back the tears that suddenly sprung up, she whispered, “Why?”
“Because what I did that night was criminal.”
“It was hardly criminal, Somerton. Ungentlemanly without a doubt but not an unlawful act.” She tried to wiggle, unsuccessfully, out of his grip.
“Since when isn’t rape a criminal offense?” he demanded.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered and then covered her mouth. How could he have thought such a dreadful thing?
“What?”
“Somerton, you never raped me.”
He released her so quickly she fell back against the chair. “I was there. And while I’d had far too much to drink that night, I succinctly remember you saying no.”
He turned and headed back to the door. Victoria struggled out of the chair to catch him before he left. She could not let him think that he raped her. Just as he reached for the doorknob, she threw herself against his back a
nd held on to him.
“Dammit, Victoria,” he growled. “Let me go. I cannot stand being in here another moment. I know what I did, and if you think back, you will remember exactly what happened. I just can’t be around when you do.”
“Somerton,” she cried, tears dampening his jacket. “You did not rape me. I only had a few sips of your brandy. I wasn’t drunk. I remember everything that happened that night.”
“Then you must remember telling me no. I heard it and remember it like you said those words only yesterday. Only that night I was too foxed to think coherently and acted like a bloody fool.”
She rested her head against his strong back and felt his heart pound under her left hand. The urge to ease his pain had never been stronger. “I only said no because I didn’t want my first time with you to be on the steps of St. George’s Church.”
He dropped his head to the door. “Victoria, you were an innocent. You said no and I should have stopped.”
“I wanted you that night,” she whispered. “I wanted you so badly that instead of trying to get you to understand that I wanted to go some place private, I let you do as you pleased.”
“It was rape.”
“No, I wanted you that night almost as much as I want you now.”
Slowly Anthony turned around and faced her. Hearing her tell him that she wanted him changed everything.
“What did you say?” He slid his thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away the tears she’d shed for him.
“I wanted you desperately that night. There was no one else that I wanted to be with for my first time.”
And he had treated her like a common whore. While inexperience might have been an excuse, he should have known better. “I’m sorry.”
“You were obviously upset about something that night.”
“Yes. And it might have been better if I’d had more experience,” he muttered.
“Like it would be now?” she whispered so quietly he almost didn’t hear her.
Scandal of the Season Page 15