Lady Thorn

by Catherine Archer

  Jed did not want to think about that right now. He was more concerned with making sure the lady in question was not putting herself in harm’s way by being with this “Lord Sin.”

  It was entirely true that the longer Jed knew Victoria, the more he was forced to respect her. It was also true that he felt she was somewhat naive and must be protected.

  As soon as the set was over, Jed took his charge back to her mother and bade her adieu with polite purpose. He then turned and made his way across the floor to where the notorious Lord Sinclair was just drawing the lady of Briarwood back into his arms.

  Jed met the other man’s dark eyes with absolute confidence and a hint of warning. “The lady has already done me the honor of agreeing to dance this one with me.”

  Sinclair eyed him levelly. The cool appraisal brought no discomfort to Jed, but he did feel a certain amount of respect for the other’s self-assurance. Here, finally, among all these fops, was a man of some substance. Too bad he did not use that strength of character for some better purpose than womanizing and gambling. He could not be allowed to attach himself to Victoria.

  Without waiting for either of them to reply, Jed drew Victoria into his arms and away from the other man. Only after they had moved some feet distant did Jed become aware of the resistance of the woman before him.

  She held herself so stiffly that she felt like a wooden masthead in his arms. He scowled down at her with irritation. “What is wrong with you?”

  She stared up at him, her gray eyes round with incredulity. “What is wrong with me?” she sputtered. “You come along and whisk me away from my partner without even asking. I did not promise this dance to you.” She looked away, taking a deep breath. “You never asked for this one, or any other.”

  Against his will, he was made achingly aware of the beauty of her profile as she refused to look at him. He also became aware of the feel of her in his arms. Though propriety dictated that he hold her some inches away from his own body, his hand rode low on her slender back. One of her delicate hands was clasped in his, the other rested, tense as a bird poised for flight, on his shoulder. Contrary to all his good judgment and sense, Jedidiah found himself reacting to her nearness as he always did.

  He had an almost overwhelming urge to pull her close, to press his mouth to the tantalizing curve of her breast above the low neckline of the ivory silk gown. The very thought made his body tighten in reaction.

  This caused him to speak more harshly than he intended. “Victoria, what were you doing dancing with that man? Do you know who he is?”

  If it was possible, she became even stiffer. “I wanted to dance with him. And yes, I do know who he is—whatever that has to do with anything.” Her gray eyes glared her defiance, and he found himself caught by their spirited beauty. He forced himself to pay attention as she went on. “And what business of yours it is, I do not know.”

  His jaw hardened at her words. But he spoke with cool reason, in spite of the heady rose scent of her, in spite of the rise and fall of her full breasts above the deep circle of her décolletage, in spite of his arousal. “You made it my business when you asked me to protect you.”

  That seemed to silence her, but only for a moment. She answered him through thinned lips. “We are looking for a husband for me, are we not? Lord Sinclair is the most likely candidate thus far.”

  Agitated by her statement, Jed nearly tripped in his smooth gliding circle around the room. It was bad enough that she should remind him of their purpose in finding her a mate. But to say that that rake was a likely candidate was nothing short of madness. Hadn’t she told him she wanted someone dependable, someone to help her, someone to count on? According to what Jed had learned of him, Sinclair would fit none of these needs. His tone was rife with sarcasm as he spoke. “And you believe that ‘Lord Sin’ would actually suit your purpose? Really, Victoria, I had thought you more discriminating.”

  When she gasped aloud, Jed realized he had gone too far this time. He was quick to rush in. “I…I apologize. I should not have said that. But I can’t help wondering if the man has been honest with you about his reputation.”

  His apology seemed to mollify her—somewhat. When he looked down into her gray eyes, he saw that they were dark with stubborn determination. “He has told me of his reputation, and some of the reasons for it. No matter what you might think, Jedidiah, I do like Ian. I find his honesty refreshing.”

  Jed grimaced. Already the fellow was “Ian.” How long had it taken him to get her to call him by his given name? Still she insisted on Jedidiah, though it irritated him no end. He had to think of some way to make “Victoria see that she might be making an error in judgment here, that she should not simply trust people because they appeared to be honest with her. Why, he himself might have been some opportunist, bent on taking advantage of her.

  Glancing down at her averted profile once more, Jed knew he had to find some way to convince her to at least go carefully. The truth was that, no matter how he had tried not to see it, Victoria was not like other women of her social circle. In all honesty, he had to admit, at least to himself, that she was special, uniquely herself.

  She needed someone of her own kind. Her generosity, her openness, the naiveteé that cloaked her in spite of her wealth and position, these were the reasons he could not bear to see her with a man who would not make her happy. What ‘Victoria deserved was a man with many of the same noble qualities she possessed.

  Even as the thought that perhaps no man would answer his criteria passed through his mind, Jed pushed it aside. He would help her find just such a mate. And not just because of their bargain.

  “Victoria…” he began, his tone made softer, more caring, by his desire to assist her. She looked at him now, her eyes wide with surprise and a sudden uncertainty. This uncertainty grew as he went on. “I only wish you would see the situation for what it is. All these men—not just Sinclair, but others, at every function we attend—fawn on you and vie for your attention. You attract them as honey does bees, but none of them has been worthy of you.”

  She interrupted him, even as a deep blush stole over her pale cheeks. “They care nothing for me, these men. They want only what I can bring them by way of wealth and social position. I am nothing to them.”

  Jed looked at her, appalled that she might actually believe this, for her pained expression told him she did. He shook his head. “Victoria Thorn, there may be some among them who answer to that description. The majority, while they are aware of those things, want you for your beauty and intelligence. You far outshine any other female who has graced the ballrooms, parlors, and dining rooms we’ve visited in the past days. You, Lady Victoria, are a desirable woman in a vast sea of simpering girls. That is not the problem.”

  His tone deepened with sincerity as he went on. “The problem is, as I have said, that none of those men, so far, have even come close to being good enough for you.”

  Victoria could only stare up at him, her heart swelling in her chest at his words. Jedidiah seemed totally oblivious of the havoc he had wreaked on that wayward organ. That Jedidiah should say this to her was astounding.

  And it meant more than she would ever admit to anyone, least of all herself. She had seen the way the women of the ton had treated him, thrown their daughters at his head, fawned over him. For his part, the sea captain had given them no more than cursory attention in return. A fact that she had believed was caused less by their lack of charm than by the simple fact that he was very single-minded in his determination to find his son and return home, to the life he knew and preferred.

  Somewhere in the deepest recesses of her womanhood Victoria felt a thrill of pleasure that Jedidiah compared her so favorably with the other women he had met. But she was, as yet, unwilling to ask herself why.

  She knew how he felt about her world, the way she lived. Victoria was bound by time, tradition and responsibility to carry on her birthright. There was no choice in her future.

  Jedidiah’s acknowl
edgment of the very attributes that kept her from being able to act as did other young women her age was a heady thing indeed. How could she tell him that, far from attracting other men to her, her strengths repelled them? Only Jedidiah seemed not to completely disapprove of these qualities.

  She glanced up at him from beneath her long, dark lashes, her heart beating in triple time as she realized that they were actually dancing. Dancing together for the first time. Despite the seriousness of their conversation, she couldn’t help noting that their steps matched perfectly. He held her with complete assurance, in a light but secure grip that left her in no doubt as to who was leading.

  Not for the first time, she wondered where he had learned to dance, to speak so well, to present himself with such polished ease amid the society he so disdained. Puzzled, she ran her gaze over his handsome face. So many things about this stubborn, honorable, fascinating man were a mystery to her.

  At that moment, the music ended and Jedidiah stopped, looking around them at the crowd of finely dressed guests. When he turned back to her, his expression had become unreadable.

  Clearly he had withdrawn from her again. Her heart sank with disappointment, and she opened her mouth to ask him why.

  At that very same moment, a young man appeared at her side. She recognized Leon Cranshaw without enthusiasm.

  “May I have the privilege of claiming this next dance with Lady Victoria?” His clipped British tones lent an impression of superiority to his words. Victoria realized this was not in the least appealing to her. She found a slightly drawling English rested more pleasantly on her ears.

  She looked up at Jedidiah, wishing in some far corner of her being that he would send young Lord Cranshaw packing. He did not.

  Jedidiah glanced over to the fellow, his eyes taking in the man’s noble bearing, his air of hauteur and his perfectly tailored evening dress. He turned to Victoria with a mocking bow, and stepped back. “Well, then, Lady Victoria, I will leave you in better hands than mine.”

  With that, he walked away without a backward glance, and Victoria felt regret rise up to constrict her throat. Even though she knew there could never be anything between them, his dismissal hurt.

  His pointed emphasis on her title said it all. They came from different worlds. She could not leave hers, and Jedidiah would never allow himself to become part of it.

  Chapter Ten

  When they returned to her home some hours later, Victoria was still reeling from Jedidiah’s most recent rejection. His attitude was even more difficult to accept than before, now that he had made the disclosure that he actually admired her.

  Looking up at his averted profile as he stepped aside for her to enter first, she could hardly credit her own remembrance of what had been said. It seemed utterly impossible to believe that this cool, distant man had said she was lovely and intelligent, not to mention all the other wonderful things that had emerged from those tightly held lips.

  Not bothering with the pretense of wishing him a pleas ant good-night, she hurried up the stairs to her room.

  Some two hours later, Victoria found that she still could not sleep. The stirrings she had felt at being held in Jedidiah’s arms kept coming back to haunt her.

  Rising from her bed, she pulled a lace-trimmed white velvet robe over her gossamer-thin white night rail. Victoria then made her way downstairs to the library. Perhaps if she read for a time, sleep might come to her.

  Victoria was just crossing the hall to go to the library when she took note of a light coming from the sitting’ room. With a puzzled frown, she changed direction, wondering who else might be awake at this hour.

  She entered and saw Jedidiah sitting in one of the wingback chairs. When she saw that the chair had been pulled up next to a table that bore a single lit candle and a whiskey decanter, she made to back out of the room. But her entrance, however quiet, did not go unnoticed by the man.

  He looked up from the glass he held in his hand with a mocking smile. “Ah, Victoria, just the woman I was thinking of.” He gestured toward her with the nearly empty glass. “Come and join me.”

  Her heart thudded in response to this invitation as she took in the reduced level in the bottle on the table next to him. Jedidiah had been drinking, and possibly more than a little. She knew that alcohol caused men to lose their inhibitions. A strange, but not unpleasant, turbulence spread through her abdomen, but whether it was due to a fear of what he might do, or a fear of her own reaction, Victoria did not know.

  When she spoke, she was disturbed to hear the breathlessness in her own voice. “Are you drunk?”

  He laughed derisively. “Drunk? No, I wouldn’t say so, though I have been drinking.”

  Though his words were meant to be reassuring, Victoria did not feel so. There was a strange reckless quality to his tone and words that she had never heard before. And heaven help her, she found this new side of him dangerously appealing.

  The candlelight shed a delicate golden glow over a small circle that surrounded him. The rest of the room was cast in long, dark shadows that made the area where he sat seem to beckon her toward him.

  He gestured with the glass again. “Would you care for a drink? I’ll get you a glass—I believe there is another one over there.” He moved to rise and go to the darkened end of the room, where she knew glasses were always kept on a silver tray.

  Victoria halted him hurriedly. “No, please. I could not, really.”

  He subsided, giving her a long, enigmatic look that made her run her hand self-consciously over the long, dark braid that hung over her shoulder. “Come, sit with me, even if you won’t have a drink,” he directed.

  Victoria’s stomach quivered, and she knew she should refuse, should turn and run to the safety of her room. Yet something, some mystical force, held her immobile. She knew it came from somewhere inside Jedidiah McBride. Even shadowed as they were, his eyes held the power to compel her.

  Almost against her will, Victoria found herself going forward. As she stopped beside him and his dark gaze raked over her, she pulled her robe more closely about her neck. Seeing the sardonic smile that stole over his mobile lips as he took in her action, Victoria stiffened. She had the uncomfortable feeling that he sensed the painful struggle inside her, the fear of remaining here in the seductive darkness with him—and the overwhelming compulsion to stay.

  Calling on her pride in desperation, she raised her chin and took the seat across from him. Trying her very best to pretend that there was nothing at all out of the ordinary about their being here in the middle of the night, she asked, “Was there something that you wanted to speak to me about in particular?” Victoria was surprised and pleased when her voice did not give away her agitation.

  He sat back in his seat, and the change in position effectively shadowed his face. The candlelight now cast his features in sharp angles, so that his eyes were two dark wells that she could not begin to read. He raised his glass and sipped from it before he said, “Is there something in particular? I’m not sure what you mean by that. Perhaps everything in particular. Now that you ask, I don’t know where to begin, or even if I should. Nothing in my life has prepared me for you, Lady Victoria.”

  She leaned forward, her innate curiosity about this man driving her unease to the back of her mind. “What has your life prepared you for, Jedidiah? Where do you come from? How do you know all the ways to behave among society, when you hate them so?”

  For a long moment, he said nothing, and she feared she had gone too far once again, that he would never reply to her prying. At last, however, he spoke. “I take it that what you are asking me is how I learned to behave myself in good company.”

  His tone was rife with sarcasm, and Victoria blanched, not knowing what to say. It became obvious that he did not expect a reply when he said, “Well, Lady Victoria, you are right. There is an explanation for what you would call my ‘good manners.’” He paused, his gaze focusing on something only he could see, and she listened with bated breath as he went
on. “My mother came from one of the ‘better’ families in Boston society. I think that even here on this side of the ocean you might have heard of Malone Shipping and Ironworks.”

  Victoria took a quick breath. Of course she had; anyone who read the papers knew of the American shipping magnate Patrick Malone. He was reported to have made a fortune in his various American ventures, and had holdings in Britain, as well.

  The sound drew his gaze, and he grimaced as he looked into her face. “I see you have. Well, my mother was his youngest daughter. I say was, because even before she died, she was dead to him, and the rest of her family. She had committed the unforgivable sin of running away with my father. He had been brought directly from Ireland to work in my grandfather’s stables. He had quite a good reputation as a horse breeder and handler, but he was a drinker.” Jedidiah looked down at his glass with a wry expression, then set it very carefully on the edge of the table before going on. “I don’t know if he ever really loved my mother, or if he was only interested in her because of who she was.” He shrugged. “When her father refused to take them in after they eloped, he took her to Bar Harbor, Maine. Why there, of all places, I don’t know. Possibly because he couldn’t get a job looking after horses when Patrick Malone put the word around not to hire him. He took to fishing for a while, though he was a poor hand at it, and finally ended up abandoning us. Mostly what he did, even when he was around, was drink.”

  Jedidiah’s expression now hardened to the point of hatred, and Victoria shivered as he said, “My grandfather never forgave my mother. She tried, after the old man deserted her, to contact Patrick Malone, to tell him he had a grandson, but he sent the letter back unopened.”

  Victoria swallowed hard to hold back the tears that sprung to her eyes at the harshness of this. Such callousness seemed unbelievably cruel. But she knew Jedidiah would not thank her for her pity.

  He turned to her then, his face achingly bare with the pain and sad yearning of speaking of his mother. “It was my mother who taught me how to speak, to read, to dance, to behave politely. She didn’t realize how it would set me apart from most of the people around us. The two of us were so isolated, though she was a woman of rare kindness and generosity, often sharing the little we had from the sewing and laundry she did with those who had less. People admired and respected her, but they did not come too close. Everyone knew she was different, that she was a lady.”