The Lord Next Door

by Gayle Callen

  “Now my lords, we all need to be going to bed here. You can talk in the morning.”

  “Thinks he knows better than everybody,” the earl grumbled.

  But Victoria could see him rubbing his legs where they were covered by the blanket.

  “If you haven’t scared off Nurse Carter, I’m sure she’ll come give your legs a good kneading. And then in the morning, we’re sending for your doctor.”

  “It’s about time,” Lord Thurlow said.

  Mrs. Wayneflete sent him an arch look. “Then why haven’t you done it before now, my lord?”

  The earl shook his finger at the housekeeper. “I won’t be ordered about like a child. That old quack can’t help me anymore, said so himself!”

  The housekeeper straightened the crumpled blanket over the earl’s lap. “Nurse Carter tells me it’s been months since you saw the doctor, my lord. Maybe he can provide new medicine.”

  “Nothing will help but to die, and I’m just trapped in this body waiting.”

  “Father—”

  “Get out of here.” The earl pointed at the door, and then saw Victoria.

  She saw the wash of red stain his pale face, and she realized her mistake.

  “Do you like what you’re seeing, girl? Do you feel closer to my fortune?”

  Blood drained from her face. “My lord, I never—”

  Lord Thurlow stepped between her and the earl. “I told you to leave her alone.”

  Victoria turned and ran down the now-deserted corridor and up the stairs. The candle in her hand flickered wildly and then went out all together when she reached the top. In the darkness, she kept her hand on the wall and almost knocked a vase from its perch on a table. Tears clogged her throat, but she would not weep. How was she ever to help Lord Thurlow and his father? It seemed like such an impossible task.

  When she was finally inside her room, she had almost closed the door when it hit a solid object.

  “Victoria?”

  It was her husband. He’d been so quiet that she hadn’t heard him following her. Taking a deep breath, she swept the door wide. “Come in, my lord.”

  “No, you’ve had enough of us for one day, I think,” he said gruffly.

  His eyes showed a brief embarrassment that made her feel better.

  “Again, allow me to apologize for my father’s behavior—and my own.”

  She sighed. “It is difficult to deal with seeing one’s parent in constant pain.”

  He frowned and shook his head. “That does not excuse my own inability to hold my temper.”

  “Our parents can sometimes bring out the worst in us, can’t they?”

  She smiled at him, and his stiff shoulders seemed to relax. Why did she find him so compelling, when in so many other ways he disappointed her?

  “I envy your relationship with your mother,” he said.

  She knew that he must be remembering his own mother. But all she could think about were the lies her parents had told, and the desperation it had led to.

  “Every day I work diligently to keep my mother close to me,” she said.

  He arched a brow. “And you’re suggesting I do the same? Believe me, there is nothing left to repair in the Banstead family.”

  She didn’t believe it, but saw no use in telling him that tonight.

  They stood there awkwardly, the threshold a barrier between them. Victoria clutched her dressing gown to her throat against a draft, and she was reminded of what they’d been doing before the interruption. Her movement seemed to remind her husband, too, because his gaze dropped down her body. She stilled, and her anticipation slowly grew. A shudder swept through her, leaving her stunned. She felt weak with the need to be held in his strong arms.

  “It’s been a long evening, Victoria,” he said, his voice unusually husky. “Sleep well.”

  She watched him walk down the dark corridor and disappear inside his room. Shutting her door, she leaned against it in thought.

  She found herself wondering what it would be like to be comforted by him. Sometimes he actually seemed sensitive. Would his strong arms around her make everything all right? But maybe only she could do that for herself.

  She took out her private journal to record the day’s events, especially her frustration with her husband. And that eventually led to her problems with the earl. As always, writing calmed her, forced her to think and plan. She had to make the earl tolerate her, and he would only do that by getting to know her. If he wouldn’t come out of his room, then she would just have to walk into the lion’s den.

  In the morning, Victoria awoke early enough to hear her husband speaking with his valet in the next room. She was finally going to have breakfast with him. As she dressed, she tried to pay attention to when he left his room. Instead, she actually heard him bathing. That seemed far too personal, but of course, all she really heard was the splash of water.

  He was probably using the same hip bath she used, and the thought made her feel warm. Her bare skin touched the same places his did. She should go to the far side of her room to ignore the sounds. But she remained frozen where she was, letting scandalous images of him play in her mind. She’d seen his throat—what did his naked chest look like?

  She’d forgotten to inform Anna that she was awakening extra early, so she chose a gown that buttoned up the front allowing her to dress alone. It was a simple morning gown with tiny brown and yellow stripes, and she reminded herself that her husband liked looking at her. It was a good feeling.

  She soon heard him walking briskly down the hall, then let him get to the stairs before she followed him. When she reached the dining room, he was already seated at the table, his newspaper held up before his face, a cup of coffee and biscuits on the table before him.

  The footmen wished her a good morning, and her husband looked up with a sharp rattle of paper.

  “Good morning, Lord Thurlow.” She set her notebook on the table, then took a plate to the sideboard to choose her breakfast.

  “Good morning, Victoria.”

  When she turned around, he was glancing at his paper again, but this time he’d lowered it so that she could see him.

  “Don’t let me disturb your reading,” she said, sitting down to his right. “I imagine one needs to know what’s going on in the world when one is a member of Parliament.”

  He nodded and sipped his coffee. “Do you read the paper, Victoria?”

  “Not often enough. We had stopped receiving it, of course, after my father died. And before that, it seemed so…depressing.” She did not mention that education had not come easily to her.

  “Young women do not discuss the news with each other?”

  “No, my lord. From what I remember, it used to be gossip and fashion. My sisters were better at keeping up on that than I was. Although Meriel could converse with any man on the news of the day. Maybe I should read the paper, because that would be something you and I could talk about.”

  “There are even papers devoted to the railway, if you’d be interested.” He smiled. “So do we need planned conversation topics? I could come up with a few, if you wish.”

  Ah, she liked this relaxed side of him and hoped to see it more. It made his eyes sparkle like blue diamonds. She leaned her chin on her palm and regarded him. “Then what should we talk about?”

  “Not the railway?”

  She smiled. “Perhaps something different.”

  “Did you know the Ojibwa Indians were coming from our Canadian colonies this summer? They’re going to demonstrate their archery skills in Regent’s Park.”

  “Really? Maybe they’ll have a contest. That was one skill I almost excelled at.”

  “Almost?”

  He was watching her lips as she spoke, and it was distracting in a very pleasurable way.

  “Well, it didn’t compare to needlework, of course.” Was she actually flirting with him? “But both were things I could do alone.”

  “You did not have any girlhood friends besides your sisters?”


  She met his gaze with deliberation. “Don’t you remember?”

  There was a very revealing pause.

  “I meant after we stopped writing,” he said.

  “Ah, I see.” She gave him a small smile. “There were daughters among my parents’ friends, but Louisa and Meriel blended in far better than I did. In fact, I met a few of them last night. But when I was young I preferred the companionship of my sisters.”

  “I envied you, you know.”

  She leaned toward him, glad to be the focus of his attention. “What do you mean?”

  “I would have given anything for siblings.”

  He spoke quietly, and her heart broke for him. It was one of those moments that she wished could go on forever, a moment that made her feel as if they might someday have a marriage to treasure. But how to make that happen?

  He briskly folded the newspaper and set it beside her. “I’ll leave this in case you’re interested,” he said, getting to his feet. “I’ve instructed my steward about your pin money, so see him when you wish.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  “I’m not sure when I’ll return, so have a pleasant day, Victoria. I’m off for a ride through Hyde Park.”

  “May I consult with your steward about the dinner party you’ve begun planning?”

  “Of course.”

  He hesitated, and their eyes met. She wondered if he was truly sorry he’d withheld things from her. Or did apologizing just make things easier for him?

  He left the room, and several minutes later she heard the front door close. With a sigh, she slumped back in her chair. She had to do something to attract his interest, to give them more than newspaper articles to discuss.

  She thought about him riding alone through the park, exercising his horse. Did he remember why she’d never learned to ride?

  Chapter 11

  Victoria knocked on the earl’s door. A kitchen maid stood beside her, holding a tray with tea and biscuits and a vase of flowers. Victoria was tempted to steady the tray because the maid was shaking so badly. When they heard nothing, Victoria knocked again.

  “My lord?” she called. “It is I, Victoria.”

  She knew he was in there, since the doctor had just left. He’d said that the earl’s condition was deteriorating at a steady pace, and had agreed to increase the dosage of medication.

  She couldn’t let the earl wallow in the despair of his prognosis. So she opened the door. The maid gasped and took a step back. The earl’s wheelchair was pushed against a table with a sheaf of papers spread across it. He glanced at them and scowled. She thought he looked paler this morning, the lines on his face deeper. She knew he wouldn’t want her pity, but he had it anyway.

  She gave him a bright smile and motioned for the maid to set the tray on a side table. Then the girl fled, closing the door behind her.

  “I picked flowers this morning to brighten your room, my lord. Where shall I put them?”

  “Away from me. The smell annoys me.”

  Her smile faltered just a little. “Well, the colors are cheerful. I’ll put them in this corner.”

  With his spectacles on his nose, he looked down at his papers.

  “Am I disturbing you, my lord?”

  “Yes.”

  She knew he was trying to frighten her away, just as he did to everyone. “I won’t take long. Shall I pour you some tea?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’ll help myself.”

  She was proud that her hand didn’t shake as she poured her cup. After setting a plate of biscuits at the earl’s table, she pulled up a chair nearby.

  “Would you care for a biscuit, my lord?” she asked.

  When he ignored her, she helped herself to one.

  “You’ve had enough of those, haven’t you?”

  She choked, then sipped tea until she could swallow, remembering that he was a man in pain.

  “I do enjoy biscuits,” she said ruefully. “I’ll have to stay away from them to fit into all the beautiful gowns your son was generous enough to give me.”

  “He obviously didn’t want to be embarrassed by you.” The earl calmly turned over a paper to continue reading.

  “And I don’t blame him,” she said softly. “I’m the first to admit that I’m uncomfortable in your world.”

  He looked at her coldly. “Then why are you here?”

  Did he truly not know the real reason for the wedding? She didn’t know what she was supposed to keep hidden.

  “Because Lord Thurlow asked me to marry him.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ll have to discuss his reasons with him, my lord.”

  “I think he married you out of pity.”

  She remained silent, knowing he was partly right.

  “He felt sorry for you. Father dead, money gone. Shelby was my banker—I know what state he left you in. Contemptuous. Yet you accepted the proposal. Can you live with the fact that now he’ll never be able to marry a woman of his own class?”

  Her throat was tight, but she found she didn’t want to cry. “My lord, I have no choice but to live with that. I will do my best as his wife.”

  “Even if it means putting up with me.”

  “I don’t see you as someone to put up with, my lord. You are my husband’s father and deserve my respect.”

  “Are you asking to befriend me?” he scoffed.

  “I cannot aspire to that. But I would like your acceptance.”

  “You fulfill your function and bear my grandchild. That’s all I want from you.”

  She stiffened at his crudity, but she couldn’t be surprised by what he expected from her. “Perhaps your son needs something more from the both of us.”

  He put his hands flat on the table. “Are you, a mere slip of a girl, trying to tell me how to be a father?”

  “I wouldn’t dream of that, my lord. I’m trying to figure out how to be a wife.”

  “Then go figure it out somewhere else.”

  “Of course. Shall I leave the tea?”

  He raised his voice and pointed at the door. “Take it and get out!”

  Only when Victoria was in the corridor did she remember to breathe. Strangely, she didn’t feel like crying. She felt a resolve to the depths of her soul. These two men needed her help. But how?

  Victoria spent an hour with her music late in the afternoon, using it to soothe herself before facing her husband at dinner. She was surprised when Smith interrupted her.

  “My lady, your dinner guest has arrived.”

  Victoria froze at the piano. “Dinner guest? Is Lord Thurlow at home?”

  “No, my lady, but I’m certain he’ll be home momentarily. Lord Wade is down in the drawing room.”

  Once again, her husband had made plans without informing her. She sighed.

  “Oh goodness.” She looked down at her gown. “Am I dressed well enough for a dinner?”

  Smith cleared his throat. “My lady, I’m not the one to judge such a thing.”

  “Of course. Is Lord Banstead going to be joining us?”

  “No, my lady.”

  She nodded, ashamed to feel relieved. “Do tell Lord Wade that I shall be down momentarily.”

  Victoria walked up to her room at an unladylike pace and examined her hair. There was no time to change into a more formal gown for dinner. She felt frazzled at the thought of entertaining Lord Wade alone, even though she’d already spent an afternoon in his company. Thank goodness Lord Wade was the talkative sort. Didn’t she have a list of conversation topics with men in one of her journals? It had been so long since she’d had to use that particular list, and she didn’t have time to go searching for it now. She hastened to her mother’s room, thinking she’d have to force her mother to join them.

  But her mother only studied her briefly before saying, “Of course I’ll have dinner with you and Lord Wade, Victoria. Just help me change.”

  Victoria’s relief only lasted until she looked at the mantel clock. “Oh dear,
the gentleman has already been waiting for half an hour. Do hurry!”

  Soon they were walking arm in arm into the drawing room, her mother in her customary black, and Victoria in pale green. Lord Wade was standing near the piano, looking through sheet music. He glanced up when they entered, giving them a wide grin.

  “Lady Thurlow, you look lovely this evening.” Lord Wade came forward, bowing low so that a tumble of blond hair fell across his forehead. “Mrs. Shelby, your beauty continues to shine through your daughter.”

  Her mother gave a little curtsy and a half smile, but said nothing. Victoria hoped it was not going to be another of her mother’s silent spells.

  “Lord Wade,” Victoria began, “I must apologize for my husband’s absence. I have no idea what is keeping him.”

  Lord Wade studied her, his dimples deepening. “Thurlow forgot to mention my invitation, eh?”

  She smiled and gave a little shrug.

  “He does get caught up in whatever he’s working on. Must be the railway, as Parliament isn’t meeting today.”

  Victoria had never asked Lord Thurlow what she was supposed to keep secret. But Lord Wade already seemed to know.

  “The railway?” her mother asked in confusion. “Is Lord Thurlow going on a journey without his wife?”

  Lord Wade gave Victoria an apologetic look.

  “No, Mama, he invests in a railway company.”

  Her mother shuddered. “I would never ride on a machine. I hear they cause milk cows to stop producing!”

  “Only a rumor, Mrs. Shelby,” Lord Wade said.

  “Do sit down, Lord Wade,” Victoria said. “We’ll delay dinner a bit in hopes that my husband will soon join us.”

  Lord Wade rubbed his hands together and grinned. “Then I’ll have time to relate to you how Thurlow became so fascinated by trains. Wouldn’t want him to overhear, of course.”

  Victoria smiled. “I’m quite interested in anything you have to say.”

  “Because it’s about your husband,” he said with a sigh. “Usually the ladies like listening to me because of my way with words.”

  “I’m certain I’ll be very impressed.”

  “Remember to let me know,” he said with a serious expression and a twinkle in his eye. “Let’s see, it was four years ago, I think, and we were on holiday from Oxford. The Southwestern Railway had just opened the line to Southampton, which happened to run very near one of the Banstead estates.” He glanced at her mother. “No cattle were terrorized, Mrs. Shelby.”