by Monica Burns
For a moment, Reardon stared at her in amazement as she glared at him defiantly. A moment later, he released an appreciative laugh and bowed his head in her direction.
“Unlike the woman you impersonate, my dear, you have a clever head on your shoulders, Victoria.” The man looked at Eleanor, and the other woman blanched. “But as Eleanor has discovered, to her detriment, I do not like clever women. They make my life difficult, so why not put this petty quarrel aside. Give me what’s mine, and I’ll refrain from exposing you.”
“Even if I knew what it was you wanted, I doubt I’d be willing to give it to you. You’ve already killed for it once, what would stop you from doing it again?”
“Do not trifle with me, my dear countess,” Reardon snarled and took a step forward. “If you don’t produce the book, I’ll see to it that you and the earl will both regret ever having crossed me.”
The bitter manner in which he mentioned Nicholas made her mouth go dry. There was more to this mystery than just Vickie’s disappearance. The man hated Nicholas. She was certain of it from the rage flashing in Reardon’s beady eyes.
“I think it’s time you left so you can go fuck yourself in private,” she bit out fiercely. Reardon and Eleanor both stared at her in shock, and she knew her language was the cause. Refusing to stand down, she glared at both of them. “Get out now, and if either of you come back, I’ll report you to the police for attempting to blackmail Lord Guildford and me.”
“Before you throw us out, my dear Victoria, has it ever occurred to you how easily your husband could be accused of murder, and you could be charged as his accomplice for pretending to be the countess?”
“For someone who thinks they’re so smart, you’re acting like you don’t understand English. I said to get out.”
Victoria’s heart was pounding with a mixture of fear and anger as she headed toward the door to have the footman throw the couple out of the house. Reardon stepped into her path, blocking her way. Flinching at his close proximity, she quickly stepped back from him. The man was dangerous, and she swallowed the ball of fear rising in her throat at the calculating look in his eyes. He knew she was afraid, and it pleased him.
“You’re a gifted actress, my dear, but it will be all too easy to arouse the curiosity of a Scotland Yard inspector eager to make a name for himself.” The cruelty on Reardon’s face chilled her. Victoria knew he wouldn’t hesitate to harm Nicholas.
“And I think you’re bluffing,” Victoria said with more bravado than she was feeling.
“Am I?” The man’s smile caused a chill to encase her body. “People are already gossiping about the remarkable change in you, and the newfound affection you and the earl displayed last night. The way he charged to your rescue is being viewed as heroic and even romantic by many. That’s a bit odd, given your antipathy for each other prior to your return. But you can make all of this go away so easily, my dear. Give me my book.”
“I told you. I don’t have your damn book.” She glared at the man in spite of her fear. Reardon’s eyes narrowed to thin slits, and Victoria shivered with dread at the demonic look on his dark features.
“Then you leave me little choice but to drop hints here and there as to the real countess’ whereabouts,” Reardon said coldly. “I can assure you, English law is quite specific about the penalty for murder.”
“The penalty for blackmail is also quite specific, Reardon.”
From the salon doorway, Nicholas’ icy words made Reardon flinch slightly, while a warm relief streaked through Victoria’s limbs. She no longer had to deal with Reardon alone. Regaining his composure, a vicious smile curled Reardon’s mouth as he bowed toward Nicholas.
“Ah, but I was not blackmailing the woman, Guildford,” the man said in a smooth tone.
“You’re referring to my wife, Reardon, and you will address her as such.” Suppressed fury echoed in Nicholas’ voice, and a nasty smile curled Reardon’s mouth.
“Of course, forgive me. It’s just that I have memories of a much different countess than this charming creature.”
“I think it’s time you and the duchess leave before I forget I’m a gentleman,” Nicholas growled as he shot a look of contempt in Eleanor’s direction.
“It has been a pleasure, my dear countess,” Reardon said coolly as he nodded in her direction.
Eleanor stood up and followed Reardon. The duchess stopped at Nicholas’ side, and as the woman touched his arm, Victoria experienced a dose of jealousy that could have easily allowed her to push Eleanor all the way to the front door and out of the house.
“Mon cher, I am—”
“Leave, Eleanor.” The cold note in Nicholas’ voice made the woman flinch. She darted a glance back at Victoria then followed Reardon out of the room.
Her heart racing with panic, Victoria watched Nicholas follow the couple out, and she heard him quietly ordering the footman to ensure the pair was never allowed in the house again. Alone once more, anxiety surged through her body as she realized her foul language in front of two witnesses hadn’t been the smartest thing she’d ever done. By itself, it wouldn’t be such a big deal, but when you added it to all the other changes people had seen in her, it would definitely not look good if someone suggested she was an imposter. It could all come back to harm Nicholas, and that would be something she’d never forgive herself for. One hand rubbing the pounding spot on her brow, she mumbled to herself,
“Oh, God, What am I going to do?”
“You’re not going to do anything.”
At the sound of Nicholas’ stern voice, Victoria whirled about. The suppressed fury she sensed in him caused her to tremble, and she inhaled a sharp breath as he strode toward her.
“What do you mean we’re not going to do anything about Reardon?” She snapped. “The man just threatened to blackmail me, you, us.”
“I’ll take care of Reardon.” Nicholas folded his arms across his chest. “And he won’t ever enter this house again.”
“Well, it wasn’t like I invited him or Eleanor into the house, if that’s what you’re implying.” She stiffened at the thought he might think Eleanor and Reardon had come at her invitation.
“I’m not implying anything,” he said quietly. “I know Reardon well enough to know that I’ve no doubt he used Eleanor to gain access to you.”
“Then what are you going to do about the bastard,” she bit out fiercely as she remembered the man’s threat to accuse Nicholas of murder.
“I’m not going to do anything at the moment.”
Appalled, Victoria stared at him in disbelief. Hands on her hips, she gritted her teeth at his calm, nonchalant demeanor. In fact, he seemed amused by her anger.
“What do you mean you’re not going to do anything,” she said with an angry shake of her head. “You don’t even know what he wants or threatened to do.”
Nicholas slowly closed the distance between them and took her hand in his and lifted it to his mouth. He kissed the inside of her wrist. The touch made Victoria quiver.
“I know exactly what he wants, my love.” His gaze locked with hers as he brought her other wrist up to his mouth. “He wants a book Vickie had.”
“Well, do you have any idea what he threatened to do?” she said irritably. “He said he’s going to tell the police you murdered Vickie, and I’m an imposter.”
Nicholas’s mouth worked its way up to the crease in her elbow and somewhere in the back of her mind a new sensation tried to push past her frustration.
“We both know that’s a lie, my love,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek. “Why don’t we discuss the topic at a later time. I have more important things to discuss with you.”
“What could be more important than stopping a man who’s threatened to blackmail us?”
Nicholas bent his head and nipped at her neck, and she shuddered. The man was far too skilled and distracting with his mouth and his sweet words. Her brain slammed into a wall. He’d called her, my love, twice n
ow. She was certain of it. She hadn’t imagined it last night.
Her gaze met his, and the depth of the emotions she saw in his emerald eyes made her heart skip.
“I love you, Victoria.” His words took her breath away, and she stared up at him with her heart in her mouth.
“Say it again,” she whispered, desperate to know her ears were deceiving her.
“I love you, Victoria Brentwood Thornhill, Countess of Guildford.”
A moment later she burst into tears.
§ § §
Nicholas stared at Victoria in confused amazement. Had he made a mistake in saying he loved her? Worried, he nudged her chin up with his knuckle so he could look into her eyes.
“What is it, sweet witch? Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing,” she smiled through her tears. “Everything’s wonderful. I love you too.”
“So you said last night,” he said with a relieved chuckle. She frowned in puzzlement, and he laughed. “It was a drug-induced confession.”
“Well, I would have confessed earlier if I thought you felt the same way.” At Victoria’s words Nicholas tightened his arm around her.
“Then I trust you’ll have no objection if I marry you again tomorrow?” Nicholas waited for her response with a sense of worry. He was still uncertain of her and her agreement to the wedding. The happiness lighting her face was all the reassurance he needed. Victoria threw her arms around his neck.
“Yes,” she exclaimed softly. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“Then we have an appointment tomorrow morning at St. Paul’s Cathedral,” he said with a smile. The instant a conflicted look crossed her face, he frowned.
“What?”
“I promised Edmund I’d take him Christmas shopping tomorrow,” she said in a guilty voice.
“I think he’ll prefer being my best man, don’t you.” His response made her kiss him again.
“You, are a terrific big brother, do you know that?” she said with a bewitching smile. “Edmund will love that.”
“What will I like?” The subject of their conversation stood in the salon doorway. “Are you talking about my Christmas presents?”
“No,” Nicholas said with a grin as he and Victoria faced his brother all the while he kept his arm wrapped around Victoria’s waist. He was unwilling to part with her at the moment. “Something better. Victoria has agreed to marry me again, and I need you as my best man.”
“What’s that?” his brother asked suspiciously.
“It means you’re responsible for holding Victoria’s wedding ring until the Bishop asks for it,” Nicholas said. “It’s a very special job that only a few people can do.”
“Okay. I’ll do it. But what about my Christmas presents?”
“You have a one track mind, Edmund,” Victoria laughed. “You know good and well you don’t get any presents until Christmas Day.”
“I know that. I was testing you.” A mischievous grin curved his brother’s mouth before his face fell. “But if I have to be Nicholas’s best man tomorrow we can’t go shopping for presents.”
“I can take you this afternoon,” Nicholas said cheerfully. “Victoria needs her rest.”
“Edmund isn’t the only one who needs to go shopping,” Victoria protested. “And right now I feel wonderful.”
Love sparkled brightly in her sapphire eyes, although the determination on her face said he would fight a losing battle if he tried to set his foot down with regard to her going with him and Edmund. If there was one thing he’d learned about Victoria, she had a tendency to push herself, but was willing to admit when she had reached her limit.
“Very well,” he acquiesced and kissed her cheek. “But the minute I see you begin to tire, I’ll expect no arguments when I decide it’s time to return home.”
“Agreed,” she said with a happy laugh.
§ § §
As they entered St. Paul’s All Souls Chapel the next morning, they were greeted by Sebastian and Anna. Yesterday, he’d told Victoria that they required another witness, and she heartily endorsed his suggestion of Anna. Now, as he watched Victoria greet the other woman affectionately, he was happy he’d suggested his friend. The bishop gathered them at the front of the altar and began the ceremony.
As the clergyman recited the familiar words, Nicholas turned his head to see Victoria studying him with a look of adoration on her face. He squeezed her hand as their gazes locked. Three months ago, he would never have believed he would marry his wife a second time. But standing here beside her, he realized how important the ceremony was. Not just to her, but him as well. This simple ceremony made their love not only one of heart and body. It was a joining of two souls. As he spoke the words the bishop read out loud, he saw Victoria’s eyes widen with happiness as the man used the name Ashton. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she spoke her vows.
“I, Victoria Ashton take thee Nicholas Bartholomew to be my wedded husband… To have and to hold from this day forward… for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and health…to love and to cherish… from this life to the next, according to God’s law and thereto I give thee my troth.” Nicholas saw the bishop frown at Victoria’s alteration of her vows. As the clergyman looked at him in silent protests, Nicholas shook his head.
“As this is our second ceremony, I see no reason to adhere completely to the letter of the service, my lord bishop,” he murmured.
Although he could tell the man was far from happy, the clergyman continued with the ceremony. Nicholas winked at Victoria, and he saw her fight back a laugh. When the bishop pronounced them husband and wife, Nicholas pulled Victoria into his arms to kiss her. As he slowly released her, he pressed his mouth against her ear.
“Now, you can no longer claim you’re not my wife, sweet witch.” His statement made her laugh softly
“Then I’ll have to come up with something new to protest.” She grinned up at him in open defiance. He growled low in his throat as she kissed his cheek.
“I’ll make you pay for that later, my love.”
“I look forward to it,” she whispered with a seductive curve of her lips. Nicholas suppressed a groan. Victoria held far too much power over him, and the worst of it was that she knew it. But upon reflection, he wasn’t sure he’d have it any other way.
Chapter 31
February 1898
The weeks following the renewal of their vows had been the happiest of Nicholas’ life. Christmas had been a whirlwind of festivities. There had never been so much laughter over the holidays in the Guildford House before. He’d presented Victoria with a sapphire necklace that matched the color of her eyes. Although she protested the extravagance, he’d seen the pleasure on her face. But it was the landscape by Lockwood that made her cry.
At first, he thought he’d erred grievously by giving her the painting. When she’d unwrapped the gift, her reaction had been one of pleasure. But when he’d shown her the inscription on the back, she’d burst into tears. He immediately pulled her into his arms as he tried to make her tell him what was wrong. It had taken her several moments to compose herself, which had been a lifetime of remorse for him that he’d somehow caused her pain. When she finally became coherent, she traced the inscription—For my wife, Victoria. Nicholas.
Christmas 1897—with her fingers in a loving manner as she explained her tears.
It had been the significance of the simple words that had been the greatest gift he could ever give her. Through her happy tears, she looked up at him with a love that had made his heart expanded in his chest. It was the same expression he saw in her eyes now as they stood in the cold February air waiting for their carriage. They’d both enjoyed the Oscar Wilde play inside the Lyceum theater, but by the end of the performance Nicholas had seen Victoria’s eyes begin to droop. Over the past two weeks, he’d noticed how tired she was at the end of the day. It puzzled him because in recent days her face had taken on a soft glow that enhanced her beautiful features. As she shivered beside him, he
bent his head.
“The carriage won’t be long. You should have waited for me in the lobby.”
“And risk some other woman attempting to flirt with you? No, thanks.” Despite the smile on her lips, he knew it was fear that kept her at his side tonight. Ever since the night she’d almost been killed, she’d refused to leave the house without someone at her side. He would be glad when they could return to Brentwood Park in another month. He saw Victoria cover her mouth with her hand as she yawned.
“You look tired, sweet witch.”
“I am,” she said with a nod.
“You’ve been tired quite a bit of late. I think it’s time I sent for Dr. Waverley.”
“No,” she exclaimed with what he thought was fear. She averted her gaze from his for a moment before she looked back at him. “You know how much I hate doctors.”
“Nonetheless, I think it would be—”
“I don’t need to see a doctor,” she snapped. When he frowned, she touched his arm with a repentant look on her face. “I’m sorry, Nicholas. I’m tired, and as I’ve told Edmund time and again, you’re a worrywart. I’m fine. I just need some sleep.”
As their carriage rolled to a stop in front of them, Nicholas opened the door and helped Victoria into the vehicle a brief moment later, the carriage rocked into motion. Victoria snuggled into his side and rested her head on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you, darling,” she sighed softly.
“It’s completely unlike you, sweet witch, which is why I think we should call Dr. Waverley.” His response made her straighten up and glare at him.
“Your wife is quite capable of determining when she needs to see a doctor, Lord Guildford. So until I say so, do not mention the word doctor again.”
With a final glare in his direction she scooted away from him to huddle in the corner of the carriage. Stunned by her reaction, he stared at her in open mouth amazement. What the devil was wrong with her? A sudden fear swept through him. Was her personality reverting back? Was she becoming Vickie again?