by Dawn Brower
“Enough,” Victor said, holding up a hand. “I’m fairly certain I can guess what was going on. And while I have no moral objection to what your husband has been doing so long as it doesn’t harm anyone, it is certainly harming you. You are perfectly within your rights to ask for a divorce and even without representation I’m certain a judge would grant it to you.”
“I feel there’s another shoe about to drop, sir.”
“I’m afraid so. As you said, if he divorces you he loses the entire estate. The money will go to a charity of his choosing and Arthur’s title will be rescinded. He’d be lucky not to end in a poorhouse, especially since he has no skills to speak of. And while I’m almost certain what becomes of your philandering husband is of no great concern to you, you must consider what will become of you.” The smile had disappeared from Cordelia’s face and she sighed deeply.
“Yes, I know that much. Arthur mentioned it himself. As selfish as it sounds, I don’t wish to go back and live with my parents. I love them dearly but I just have this nagging feeling that they’ll find a way to blame this on me.”
“Parents can be difficult,” Victor agreed. “It’s almost criminal the way society treats women in your situation. There’s nothing you’ve done wrong, my dear, and even if it means abandoning Arthur’s cause in favor of yours I’ll fight anyone who says you have.”
“You said you’re working on it, though,” Cordelia said, and he didn’t think he was imagining the blush that was on her cheeks. “Trying to find a way around the condition. If you could, does that mean he’d have the means to take care of me after the divorce?”
“That’s absolutely true,” Victor said. “The judge friend that I just met with is asking a friend of his who sits on the High Court. It might require assistance from the late Lord Whittemore’s physician though. He would need to testify to the man’s mental state, give evidence that he wasn’t in his right mind, that sort of thing. Unfortunately, testimony like that can be very hard to come by. It might require a bit of persuasion.”
“Persuasion?”
“Of the monetary sort. Arthur has given me reason to believe that he wouldn’t have a problem with that, Lord knows he has enough money. As much as it pains me to say it, your best course of action right now would be to stay with him until I can get this figured out.” Victor shook his head. “I’m sorry I don’t have better answers for you. Does any of your staff suspect?”
“They probably do,” Cordelia said. “I know for a fact that Patricia knows, she walked in on them. She told me in confidence but I already knew.” Her jaw tightened in a very unladylike manner and he wondered if she knew she was doing it. “You and she can probably talk all about it next time you’re at the estate.”
“That was a mistake,” Victor said. “I was very drunk and she looked very pretty. I assure you nothing will happen again.” He gave her a rakish smile. “I generally confine my affairs to ladies of a higher station.”
“Patricia is a lovely girl,” Cordelia said abruptly. “In fact, I’m making her my lady’s maid. How dare you say that about her?”
“I meant nothing unkind,” Victor said, holding up his hands in surrender. “It’s just that I try to get to know ladies who are single and a bit older. I don’t often seduce the serving staff. I apologize for my rudeness, Lady Whittemore. As I said, it won’t happen again.”
“I should hope not.” She sighed. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Pembroke. I don’t believe I’ve solved anything but you’ve given me hope.” She opened her pocketbook. “I suppose I should pay you for your time. You lawyers get an hourly wage, right?”
“Put that away,” Victor said, reaching out to cover her hand with his own. “Arthur already pays me enough and I’m not going to take money from a woman who came to me for advice.” He realized she wasn’t wearing gloves, which meant she had probably left her house in a hurry. Her hand was warm and soft and he closed his fingers around it. Cordelia looked up at him in surprise but didn’t pull away. “Are you going home right away?”
“I don’t know,” Cordelia said. “Most likely. I’m sure I look a fright.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You look just fine.” He took in the shape of her face, the few strands of hair that had escaped her chignon, then the mud on the hem of her dress. “Perhaps you could use a bit of cleanup but on the whole you’re quite lovely.”
“Hmph.” She looked like she wasn’t convinced, but now he was certain she was blushing. Taking the chance of a lifetime, he reached out to her and touched her face.
“There’s nothing quite so beautiful as a woman with color on her cheeks.” Victor lightly stroked her cheek and she leaned into his touch. He wondered how long it had been since anyone had touched her like this. Surely Arthur hadn’t been doing it much, if at all. The only affection he’d seen the man display toward his wife was a chaste kiss on the cheek.
“This is most improper,” she said, though she didn’t pull away. Victor smiled down at her and moved closer until he could feel the warmth coming off her body.
“Oh yes?”
“Most definitely.”
“Then this is going to absolutely scandalize you.” Victor leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Cordelia’s eyes widened in surprise but once again she didn’t pull away from him. He kissed her gently at first, and when she responded he pulled her into his arms and let his lips become more passionate. Cordelia leaned her head back as he brushed his lips along the side of her neck and her unpinned hat tumbled off the back of her head.
“Oh!” She turned to look at the hat, which was somewhat squashed on top. Victor was almost certain the fall from her head hadn’t done that, but he let go of her and leaned down to pick it up. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me!”
“I know what it was,” Victor said. He dusted the hat off and set it lightly on her head. “It was the same thing that came over me, only this time I wasn’t able to control myself. I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I met you, Lady Whittemore.”
“I should go,” she said, taking a step back. “I should really go. Before I do something foolish.” Before Victor could ask what she meant by ‘foolish,’ she turned and went to the door. She turned the knob and found it locked, and Victor came up behind her.
“Here,” he said, moving closely enough so that his body was lightly touching hers, then reached around her to unlock it. He managed to suppress the urge to put his arms around her, and stepped away quickly when Cordelia opened the door. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin her reputation, especially if she was going to be getting a divorce. Victor didn’t care what people said about him, but he didn’t want them to talk badly about Cordelia.
“Thank you for your time,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “I’ll try to be patient.” He didn’t get a chance to respond before she hurried down the hall, and Victor watched her until she disappeared around the corner before going into his office and closing the door.
In spite of the situation, he found himself grinning as he sat behind his desk. It was perfect timing, as Bradley came in almost immediately and he didn’t want the boy to see what state he was in. After being so close to Cordelia that his body was on hers for a moment and extremely improper thoughts were going through his head, he was more than a little aroused.
“Is everything all right with Lady Whittemore? She looked awfully upset when she came in.” There was a letter in his hand and he passed it across the table to Victor.
“She’s better now,” Victor said, picking up the letter opener. “I gave her some legal advice and she has an idea of how to handle things. It’s why I became a lawyer, Bradley. To help beautiful women in their time of need.”
“I’ll have to get some pointers from you about women, sir. You seem to know what to do to please them.” He smiled. “Would you like something to drink? Tea, perhaps?”
“Yes, that would be nice, thank you.” Bradley nodded and left the office, and Victor stared at the letter without reading it. H
is thoughts were still on Cordelia and he considered what Bradley had said. It had never been said that he didn’t know how to please a woman, but perhaps there was something he could do for her that didn’t involve slowly stripping off her clothes and kissing every inch of her body.
This is not the way to calm down, he admonished himself, and attempted to pay more attention to the letter. A moment later his thoughts were back on Cordelia and he tossed the letter on his desk. He’d never had this much trouble getting a woman off his mind before. With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair and waited for Bradley to return. No doubt talking to the boy would get his mind off things. What to do about Lady Whittemore, though?
Chapter 8
Even two days later, Cordelia couldn’t get the kiss out of her head. She lifted her hair so Patricia could button her dress, and the brush of a few strands over the side of her neck reminded her of Victor’s lips. She could feel the blush creeping up her neck and to her face and fanned herself in an attempt to make it go away.
“Are you hot, ma’am? I could open a window.”
“A bit,” Cordelia said. “For future reference, Patricia, you really should do my hair before helping me dress.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am!”
“It’s all right, dear, you’re new at this.” It was true. The young woman who had been her lady’s maid had been called away suddenly after her mother died, leaving Patricia to do the job alone with little training. She seemed terrified of Mrs. Richmond, who had made it clear that she was a lady’s assistant and not a maid, so Cordelia had taken it on herself to guide the girl. “You’ll learn soon enough. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, either. I’ll do my best to answer them.”
“Thank you,” Patricia said, looking relieved as she went to the window and opened it. A cool breeze came through and it did make her feel a bit better. “Shall I do your hair now?”
“That would be nice, thank you.” Cordelia sat at her dressing table. She could hardly blame the girl for the error. If she hadn’t been so busy thinking about Victor, she could have told her ahead of time. Patricia came over and picked up the brush.
“You have such beautiful hair. It’s so long,” Patricia said. “My hair doesn’t want to grow and it seems I’ve tried everything.”
“I’ve got a good hair tonic I take daily,” Cordelia said absently. “They don’t have it in Greenley so I have to have it delivered in from London.”
“That must be expensive,” Patricia said. “I doubt I would be able to afford it.”
“I’ll give you some to try,” Cordelia said. “Arthur orders it by the case.” She stifled a sigh. She supposed Victor was right. If she wanted to have anything like her current life she was going to have to keep up the charade a little longer. Neither she nor Arthur had spoken to one another since her blowup and she couldn’t say she was upset about it. They sat silently across the table from one another at mealtimes, her angry and him awkward, and she retired to her room or the conservatory immediately.
“That’s very kind of you, ma’am.” She began to brush Cordelia’s hair and it felt exquisite. Cordelia had always loved having someone brush her hair. When she and Birdie were small, she used to brush her sister’s hair but Birdie never seemed to like it as much as she did. “I’ve never really done someone else’s hair, only my own, so I apologize if it’s not very good.”
“You’ll learn,” Cordelia said again. “Just do your best.” Patricia continued to brush her hair and nodded at her mistress in the mirror. She seemed to be taking a while and Cordelia assumed it was because she was trying to put off doing her hair, but she didn’t say anything. The brushing felt good and she was able to relax a little.
She couldn’t believe Victor had kissed her, especially not in his office. He’d locked the door but she didn’t get the feeling he’d done it so he could kiss her, more because he wanted to protect her secret. The kiss had just happened, she doubted he’d planned it. Still, it felt good to be wanted and to be kissed with feeling instead of obligation, and when he’d moved down to her neck she’d wanted to melt into him. Not even on her wedding night had Cordelia felt such desire in a kiss and it had ignited something in her. She wanted to see Victor again in private, to see if his lips felt as good a second time and maybe feel his hands on her body. A pleasant shiver went through her when she remembered how close he’d been to her when he unlocked the door and Patricia stopped.
“Are you chilled, ma’am? I could close the window.”
“No, I’m all right,” Cordelia replied. “A goose just walked over my grave, I suppose.” She watched Patricia in the mirror to see if she suspected anything, but the girl only set the brush aside and picked up a few hair pins. If this was how he had kissed her, she could hardly blame Patricia for letting it happen. She smiled as she watched Patricia frown and delicately twist her hair into a careful bun. It was very loose but serviceable and she smiled brightly. “That’s lovely, thank you.”
“Really? I’m afraid it will fall down,” Patricia said uncertainly.
“Then I’ll have you try again. I really believe it will stay in place, though. It’s not as if I’ll be doing anything strenuous.” She leaned forward and opened her jewelry box. Her wedding band was in it, along with her grandmother’s necklace. Cordelia left her ring where it was and took out the necklace.
“My, that’s pretty!” Patricia’s eyes widened. “Are those sapphires?”
“I think they’re blue topaz,” Cordelia said. “It needs some care, though. I wonder if there’s a place in Greenley I can take it to, or if I need to go to Elston. I know my sister’s wedding set came from a jeweler there.”
“There’s actually a watchmaker in town that does some jewelry repair as well,” Patricia said. “I don’t know that he would be able to craft something this beautiful but he could certainly clean it up and repair the clasp.” She smiled. “It looks like an antique.”
“It belonged to my grandmother. She used to let me wear it when I was younger.” Cordelia handed it to her. “My sister found it in a trunk where we kept our dress-up clothes. That’s probably how it got in there in the first place.”
“It’s very---“
“Cordelia Whittemore!” Mrs. Richmond’s voice made Cordelia cringe, as it had since she was a child. Privately, she sometimes wondered when the old woman would die. She was quite old. She’d been old when Cordelia was a child. “I’ve just been made aware of the state of your dress from yesterday and I am appalled!” She spied the necklace in Patricia’s hand and turned her attention to the girl. “And what exactly are you doing with that?”
“She was about to put it on me,” Cordelia said as calmly as possible. “Weren’t you, dear?”
“O-oh yes,” Patricia said. She seemed to understand what Cordelia wanted and draped it around her neck, then pretended to notice the broken clasp. “Oh dear, it seems to be broken.”
“That’s a shame,” Cordelia said, taking the necklace from her and examining it. “I shall just have to take it to town to be repaired, that’s all.”
“Not if you’re going to treat your clothes as poorly as you did yesterday. Mud all over your dress! Your hat crushed on top! I’ve come to expect such behavior from Bridget but you’ve never been so careless with your things!” Her lecture was nothing new and Cordelia did her best to look ashamed of herself while her mind wandered.
If she took the necklace to town herself, there was a chance she would get to see Victor again. She could go to his office and pretend to need his advice, and maybe he would kiss her again. The thought made her blush, something that didn’t escape Mrs. Richmond’s notice.
“Are you even listening to me, Cordelia?”
“Yes ma’am. I’ll take more care this time. I really should be the one to take the necklace, though. I can explain what needs to be done to it.” She smiled at Mrs. Richmond, then turned to Patricia. “Could you bring out my black and tan boots and my light green dress?”
“Right away, ma’am.” O
bviously glad to be out of Mrs. Richmond’s sight, Patricia hurried into the closet to locate the dress and boots while Cordelia turned and picked up a hand mirror so she could look at the back of her head.
“Eleanor was far better at doing your hair,” Mrs. Richmond sniffed. “This looks like it will fall down if a breeze blows over it.”
“It will be under my hat when I’m in town,” Cordelia said. “And when I’m back home she can always put it back up. There’s no other way for her to learn. For being on her own two days into being trained, she’s doing quite well.”
“If you say so.”
“This dress, ma’am?” Patricia came out of the closet with a sage green dress whose top looked a bit like a man’s suit. It was meant to have a high-necked shirtwaist underneath but there was no way for the girl to know that.
“That’s perfect, Patricia. Just lay it out on the bed and you can help me change into it in a moment.” Patricia did as she asked, then went back to get the boots. Cordelia looked back at Mrs. Richmond. “There, something more appropriate for a trip into town, would you say?”
“It’s not up to me to dress you,” the old woman said. “You and your sister hardly ever listen to me anyhow.” She turned and left the room, and when Patricia returned with the boots and saw that Mrs. Richmond was gone, she visibly relaxed.
“There’s a shirtwaist in the closet that goes with this dress,” Cordelia said. “It’s got a high neck with lace on the collar. If you could fetch that as well it would be perfect.”
“Of course.” She went back into the closet and Cordelia smiled into the mirror. If she was going to possibly see Victor, she wanted to look her best and her green dress was a favorite. Were she a little bolder, she would have worn it without the shirtwaist but she didn’t want him to think she was inviting anything. Patricia returned with the shirtwaist and Cordelia stood up.