by Dawn Brower
When she finished, the applause that followed was the exact opposite of polite. It was loud, uncontrolled, and just as joyous as she felt. Someone shouted ”bravo!” and Cordelia realized that she was breathing hard. She stood up from the piano and bowed, a little embarrassed but satisfied. She looked toward the bookshelves where Birdie, the General, and Victor were all standing, and was pleased to see that Birdie’s face was shining with pride. Victor was grinning twice as widely as her sister, and she realized that it had been he who had shouted.
“Thank you,” she said to the room in general as her eyes met Victor’s. “You’re all too kind. Thank you for indulging me and I do hope you enjoy the rest of your evening. There will be dancing in the ballroom in just a few minutes, and please help yourself to refreshments and drinks.” There was another, smaller round of applause and she bowed again before everyone started to move around the room. Maurice came over to her immediately.
“Madame, you are even more talented than I first thought,” he said. “At first I was confused because I did not recognize the piece you were playing but when I realized you were improvising on a baroque piece I was very impressed.”
“Was I?” Cordelia blinked at him. “I honestly had no idea. I just played what was in my head.”
“It was a magnificent performance,” Victor said from just behind her and Cordelia turned in surprise. “I can scarcely believe you’re the same woman I heard playing so tentatively the first time I visited this manor.”
“My goodness, gentlemen, you’re going to give me quite the ego,” Cordelia laughed. “I’m just happy to be able to play. Monsieur DuVerne, thank you so much for coming.”
“Of course, madame, of course. Now if you do not mind, I am going to the ballroom to hear this string quartet. Perhaps there will be a lady who would want to dance with me.” Just as he said this, Patricia came back into the room. She was dressed very differently than she had been at the first party, wearing a pretty pink and white dress rather than a maid’s uniform. Her position as a lady’s maid gave her slightly higher status and the luxury of her choice of clothing for the night, putting her almost on Mrs. Richmond’s level. Cordelia knew that it was giving the old woman fits but at that moment she didn’t much care.
“Lady Whittemore, I wasn’t able to---“
“Patricia, you’re just in time.” Cordelia motioned for her to come over. When Patricia saw Victor, her face turned red and she looked away quickly. “I know you’ve heard me talk about Monsieur DuVerne. He’s looking for a dance partner.”
“Oh, I don’t think that would be proper,” Patricia said. Cordelia shook her head and folded her arms over her chest in a perfect imitation of Mrs. Richmond. She couldn’t help but think that Birdie would be proud.
“Nonsense,” Cordelia said. “I’m the lady of the house and I have nothing for you to do at the moment, so it won’t hurt a single thing for you to dance with this gentleman. If anyone has a problem with it, they can take it up with me.”
“It seems Madame has spoken,” Maurice said, offering Patricia his arm. “Shall we dance, mademoiselle?” She looked at Cordelia, eyes wide, then nodded and slipped her arm through his. With a smile, Maurice led her out of the room and Cordelia was alone with Victor.
“I hope she’ll be all right,” Cordelia said. “Mrs. Richmond will probably lecture me for days about it but I couldn’t think of another way to keep her from following me around all evening.” Victor laughed.
“Mrs. Richmond?”
“She was my sister’s and my governess when we were girls, and when I married Arthur she came with me as my lady’s assistant.” She sighed. “I just can’t seem to escape her.”
“Why you and not your sister?”
“Birdie married the General before I married Arthur,” Cordelia explained. “Unlike my husband, the General fell in love with Birdie when they met at a party.” She pressed a hand to her face. “I really have to get used to calling him Richard.”
“So yours was an arranged marriage,” Victor said. “I see.”
“I was supposed to be married first, of course, but Birdie met Richard while Father was still talking to the late Lord Whittemore. They had a whirlwind courtship, very romantic, and were married before Arthur’s father and mine even came to terms. Since I was the last to leave home, I got saddled with Mrs. Richmond.” Cordelia sighed. “I keep gently nudging her toward retiring but she refuses. I honestly think she’ll be around forever.”
“I’m glad she’s not around right now,” Victor said, stepping closer. “You really do look radiant in that dress, Lady Whittemore.”
“Please,” Cordelia said, shaking her head, “when we’re alone together, call me Cordelia.” Victor smiled at her, a very different one than his usual grin, and reached up to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. His finger brushed against her cheek and raised gooseflesh on her skin.
“All right, Cordelia,” he said. “What should we do now that we’re alone together?” She didn’t dare tell him what she really wanted, but Victor closed what distance remained between them and put a hand under her chin. “If you don’t have any ideas, I certainly do.”
“Mr. Pembroke---“
“So formal,” he said, then kissed her. This time Cordelia put her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Victor pulled her close and their bodies pressed together. Cordelia could feel every inch of him through the thin fabric of the dress he’d bought her and it excited her in a way she’d never known.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she said when he released her. Victor smirked.
“Not here, certainly.” He reached down and grabbed a handful of the beads that dangled from the dress’ bodice. They slipped through his fingers and he grinned. “And this dress was far too expensive to ruin up against a wall.” His words made Cordelia’s face burn, but she was growing to like them. Unlike Arthur, he said exactly what he was thinking. “Is there somewhere more private we could go?”
“How private?” She looked up at him and he raised an eyebrow. There was no need for him to answer, and though everything she’d ever been taught about propriety was telling her to walk away from him, Cordelia nodded toward the door. “Follow me.”
Judging from the music and laughter coming through the ballroom, nearly everyone was enjoying the string quartet and the refreshments. No one was near the stairs and Cordelia led Victor toward them, turning back only to make sure he was following. Victor was right behind her and she pressed a finger to her lips as she led him upstairs.
Once they were in her bedroom, Cordelia locked the door. The only person who had a key was the houseman, and even he would knock before using it. Victor watched her do it with amusement.
“Do you expect someone to try coming in here?”
“I’m just being careful,” Cordelia said. Victor smiled at her and grabbed her waist to pull her to him. “I’m not like you, I don’t do this all the time.”
“That’s a shame. But I’ve never done it before in a Lady’s bedroom while her guests dance and drink her brandy.” Warmth radiated off his body and Cordelia tilted her face up to his in the hopes he would kiss her again. “For you, I’ll make an exception.” He pulled her even closer and this time she could feel that he was hard against her thigh. The thought that she had made him that way sent heat spreading between her legs and she reached up to brush his hair off his forehead.
“Will you make love to me, Mr. Pembroke?”
“Victor, please,” he said, then leaned down to press his lips to hers. The dress he’d bought her left her entire neck and some of her chest exposed, so he was able to brush his lips from behind her ear to the hollow of her throat and Cordelia inhaled slowly, taking in his scent as he kissed her.
He backed her up against the bed and she sat down abruptly as her knees buckled, then lay back. Victor put a knee on the mattress and leaned over her kissing her again and again, his tongue slipping into her mouth in brief exploration as he cupped one breast through her gown. She want
ed to feel his touch on her bare skin, and when he stood up to take off his jacket she did as well and turned her back to face him.
“Unbutton me?”
“With pleasure.” Victor undid her dress one button at a time, kissing her back each time until her dress fell off her hips and pooled on the floor. Each press of his lips inflamed her more and she couldn’t stifle a soft moan. While he undressed, Cordelia took off her underthings and lay back on the bed. This time when Victor climbed on top of her there was nothing between them and she put her arms around his neck. When she’d tried in vain to have Arthur do this it had been awkward from the beginning but Victor knew exactly what to do. He opened Cordelia’s legs and slid inside her, and the sensation of fullness made her lift her hips so he could go deeper. “You’ve done this before.”
“Not like this,” she said. “Please don’t stop.”
As Victor made love to her, Cordelia couldn’t stop thinking about how different it was from Arthur’s clumsy attempts. He wasn’t trying to get this over with as soon as possible, he was taking the time to make sure she felt every inch of him, every stroke, and it excited her more. She wrapped her legs around him to keep him inside her, even after his climax, and his groan of pleasure sent ripples through her own body until he rolled off her and pulled her into his arms.
“That was wonderful,” Cordelia said breathlessly. “I had no idea it could be like that.”
“It should be like that every time,” Victor said. “If I have my way it shall be.” He put a hand under his chin and kissed her gently. “As soon as Arthur divorces you, I want you to be mine.” Cordelia’s eyes widened. “You seem surprised, my dear.”
“I am,” she admitted. “I expected this to be like your other women.”
“You’re different,” he said. “I knew that the moment I saw you. When Arthur said he wanted to divorce you I could hardly believe it. I was certain there must be something wrong with you. You have no idea how glad I was that the problem lay with him instead.”
“We should get back to the party,” Cordelia said reluctantly. She sat up and slid off the bed, hardly able to believe what Victor was saying. Suddenly she didn’t care about what Arthur could or could not do for her after the divorce. All she cared about was Victor.
“You’re right,” he said. “They’ll be missing their hostess, especially with the host keeping to himself.” He stood up and picked up his pants. “Where is Arthur anyway?”
“I have no idea,” Cordelia said with a smirk. “And I’m quite pleased by it.”
“Me too.”
They dressed quickly, Victor doing up her dress with surprising skill, and she kissed him quickly as she unlocked the door.
“You go first,” she said. “If anyone asks, you were looking for the water closet.” Victor nodded and looked both ways before he left the room, leaving Cordelia alone to look at her bed. They hadn’t pulled back the covers but the duvet was a mess, and she tugged on it so that it was straight in case Mrs. Richmond or the housemaid came in. Once she was sure Victor was back downstairs she left her bedroom and followed. She was just stepping off the last stair when Patricia hurried up to her, looking rather flustered.
“There you are, ma’am! I was looking all over for you.”
“I was a bit too vigorous with my dancing,” Cordelia lied. “I had to go upstairs and fix my hair a bit. It’s an absolute fright and I wasn’t able to put it right. I shall need your help for sure. What’s the matter?”
“I’m really worried,” Patricia said, biting her lip. “No one has seen Lord Whittemore all night, not since the beginning of the party. I’ve tried my best to look for him without letting anyone know what I was doing but I can’t find him and people are starting to leave.”
“Have you looked everywhere?” The last thing Cordelia wanted to think about at that moment was her husband but Patricia didn’t show any signs of giving up.
“Everywhere but his bedroom,” she said, lowering her voice. “I was honestly a little afraid to knock. Do you think he’s in there with someone? During the party?” Patricia looked scandalized and Cordelia could hardly imagine what her lady’s maid would say if she knew what had just happened between her mistress and the family lawyer while everyone was downstairs dancing.
“I suppose I’ll go,” Cordelia said unenthusiastically. If Arthur was with a man in his bedroom it would be the third time she’d walked in on him and she wasn’t looking forward to it. Patricia started to walk away and Cordelia grabbed her arm. “Oh no you don’t. If I have to see it, so do you.”
The two women walked to the other side of the second floor where Arthur’s bedroom was located, Patricia lagging slightly behind her mistress. The door was closed, of course, and Cordelia raised her hand to knock on it, steeling herself for whatever she might find. Her knock echoed through the hall and she waited for her husband to answer. When he didn’t, she knocked again.
“Arthur, are you in there? The guests are starting to leave and you need to say goodbye.” Still no answer, and Cordelia’s temper flared. She put her ear against the door and, hearing nothing, grabbed the knob. Patricia put a hand on her arm.
“Should we really just go in?”
“We absolutely should,” Cordelia said. “He’s acting like a child hiding in there and I’m sick of it. I don’t care whose arse I see, I’m going in right now.” Her choice of words widened Patricia’s eyes in shock and she twisted the knob. “Arthur, I’m coming in right now so you and whoever’s in there with you had best be decent.”
The bedroom was dark when the door swung open, and it was Cordelia’s first clue that something wasn’t right. The sheets on the bed were rumpled and piled oddly, making her frown slightly. The housemaid would have fixed the bed if the room was empty, even during a party, and she stepped into the room.
As she got closer to the bed, she could see that someone was in it. From the position of the body, Cordelia could tell at once that something wasn’t right. When a hint of moonlight crept around the edge of the curtain, she knew for sure. She spoke to Patricia without turning away, her voice shaking just a little.
“Patricia, go downstairs right away and tell the houseman that we need the police.”
“Ma’am?” Patricia took a step forward, then pressed both hands over her mouth. “My God! Is that Lord Whittemore? Is he dead?”
“We need the police,” Cordelia said again. “Right away.” Patricia nodded and ran for the stairs while Cordelia moved closer to the bed. Arthur was indeed dead, and judging from the blood on his clothes and the sheets it hadn’t been quick.
Who could have done this?
Chapter 11
By the time everyone was finally out of the manor it was well after midnight. Once the police arrived and turned the estate from a party to a crime scene, no one wanted to leave. They were all more interested in trying to get a glimpse of what had happened, though the police officers were doing their best to keep people downstairs. After hours of arguing with various partygoers, the police ordered them out of the house.
The only people left were Cordelia, Birdie and the General, and Victor, who was allowed to stay as he was the family lawyer. The staff had been confined to the servants’ quarters, protected by a pair of officers, and the manor was almost silent. Cordelia sat in shock on the loveseat in the study, with Birdie beside her holding her hands.
“When did you first notice your husband was missing, Lady Whittemore?” The police officer that stood before her was an older man, and Cordelia was certain he outranked all the others she’d seen. He had a large mustache and she focused on it while she spoke to him.
“I thought it strange that he wasn’t there to listen to my performance,” Cordelia said. “But I suppose I assumed he would be along later. I didn’t think to look for him.”
“Why not?”
“To be honest, sir, he and I were not on the best of terms at the moment.” Her eyes flicked over to Victor’s, then Birdie’s. “We had an argument and thi
ngs had been rather cool since then.” Birdie frowned at her.
“You didn’t tell me that, Delia. What were you fighting about?”
“Please let me ask the questions, Mrs. Ellison,” the officer said impatiently. “You had a fight with your husband, the people I spoke to downstairs said they hadn’t seen you since the piano performance, and you were the one to find him dead. You can see how that looks suspicious.”
“You can’t honestly believe that,” Birdie said, her brown eyes fierce. “My sister would never kill anyone. Besides, she was with her lady’s maid when she found Arthur’s body. It’s not as if she pretended to find him by accident.”
“We’ve spoken to Miss Parker,” the officer said, and for a moment Cordelia wondered who he was talking about. “Or rather we’ve tried to. She’s rather shaken up at the moment. Can’t stop crying long enough to say anything other than she’s never seen a dead person before.”
“If you’re accusing Lady Whittemore of something, then come out and say it,” Victor said. “Otherwise she will speak to you further in the morning. She’s had a long, difficult evening and needs to get some rest.”
“Fine,” the officer said, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at her. “You’re not to leave the estate tonight, though. I’ll be stationing a couple of officers outside the door just in case anyone tries to get in or out.”
“That’s not necessary,” the General said. “My wife and I will be staying with Lady Whittemore tonight.” He looked at Victor. “I assume her attorney will want to return to his home but we will be more than happy to look out for her.” Cordelia looked over at Victor. She wanted him to stay more than anything but with the General and Birdie in the manor they wouldn’t be able to be alone together, so there was little point.