Drake met his grandmother's stern glare. At seventy, she could still see through a brick wall, and she was the only person who called him by his first name. Even his father called him Drake.
"Jonathan? Do I smell trouble?"
Gray eyes met gray in a battle of wills.
Drake lifted a knowing brow. "I will leave the situation alone, unless it needs tending. Good night, Grandmother."
"Good night, Jonathan."
Drake stomped into his bedchamber with the lady's infernal gaze attached to his back. First, Nightham's death, and now, his father was engaged to someone Drake didn't even know. Probably a pauper, too!
Drake pulled the tie from his hair, recalling a pair of aquamarine eyes. Haunting eyes. Innocent eyes. Enchanting eyes that had bewitched him.
With an oath, he pulled out his pocket watch and slipped it into the gilded bronze stand on his night table, setting it in place so the watch now served as a clock.
He stared at the stand and felt as if the time for finding that red-haired siren was running out like the sands of an hourglass.
Nevertheless, he would do something about that promise to Nightham, or he would die trying.
Chapter Four
Frowning, Sarah rested the candle on the nightstand next to Victoria's bed. "I have it from Mrs. Dorling that no sooner had we left than you were out visiting a sick friend. Yet it seems strange that you could not venture with us into the country with a cold in your head?"
Victoria let out a shuddering sigh as a drizzling rain tapped against the windowpane of the bedchamber. Sarah's long-white nightgown glowed eerily against the candlelight.
"Come now, Victoria, you must tell me what happened. I know all your friends. None are that ill that you would have to be gone from the house for almost twenty-four hours. Even Mother suspects something is wrong. Mrs. Dorling is not about to worry her with your absence, but I am a different story altogether."
From her bed, Victoria took hold of Sarah's hand. "Oh, Sarah. It is so wretched, I don't think I can tell you."
"Goodness, you know you can trust me."
Victoria bit her lip and regarded Sarah with a wary gaze. She could trust Sarah with anything, even her life. But she could never trust a man again. The men in her life had failed her all too often.
"Does Aunt Phoebe know I left the townhouse that day?"
"No. Only Mrs. Dorling and me."
Victoria closed her eyes. "It's such a mess. I don't know where to start."
"Start anywhere, dearest. It cannot be that bad."
Victoria shook her head in disgust. "But it was a madcap thing to do. I have made a mess of it all."
"What is it? You must tell me."
"I believe I will go mad if I do not tell someone. It all happened two months ago when I came across Aunt Phoebe's financial reports in the library." Victoria took in a deep breath. "You must believe me that I did not mean to pry, yet what I discovered in those pages made me ill."
Victoria looked into Sarah's innocent face and felt a stab of regret for her impulsive behavior. "Aunt Phoebe has virtually nothing left. Her debts are rising and she is selling off the silver to make her way."
Sarah stared back in horror. "No?"
"Yes, I believe Uncle Henry lost more in those ridiculous ventures of his than Phoebe first thought."
Victoria swallowed hard, swinging her feet around the side of the bed. "You can see how I felt it my duty to do something as quickly as possible. Phoebe has been so good to me."
Sarah stood. "No, I don't see that at all. You should have told me."
Victoria followed her cousin's agitated movements and wished she had never spoken. "Well, it just seemed logical that I would be the one to help Phoebe out of this mess."
Sarah spun around. "Good grief, you are not suggesting you stole for us?"
"Certainly not." Victoria avoided her cousin's shocked gaze as she walked toward the window where the wind began to whistle against the pane. "I, um, married an earl instead."
"What?" Sarah fell back on her cousin's bed, her hand covering her mouth. "Did you say you married an earl?"
Victoria nodded.
"Oh, Victoria."
Victoria swallowed as she turned to face her cousin. "It was idiotic. Stupid. All those things. Believe me, I know. But I did not know what else to do. My father left me with nothing, and I became a burden to Phoebe, a loving burden, but a burden all the same. It only made sense to help her." I trusted my father and he let me down, she wanted to say, but didn't.
"You are not a burden," Sarah said defensively.
"Oh, I know Phoebe loves me, but after what I have disclosed, can you not see that Uncle Henry was totally irresponsible, leaving Phoebe in debt?"
Victoria put up her hands. "And before you defend him, let me say that I loved the man dearly. But Phoebe has had to carry the weight of his reckless behavior since he died. She trusted him with all her heart and what did that lead to? Heartache and possibly debtor's prison.
"Can you not see that I needed to make a decision to help the ones I loved? If that meant marrying a rich earl, then so be it. It was a marriage of convenience, no love between us. Oh, I liked the man, but any mistrust on his part would not sink like a knife into my soul." She swallowed hard, recalling Nightham's death.
Sarah wrung her hands on her skirt and rose from the bed. "But is this earl truly your husband?"
"To be perfectly honest, I'm not certain. There was a problem while I was at the inn. Actually two." She thought about the pirate and her hands twisted nervously on her nightgown. "No, much more than two."
"An inn?” Sarah’s voice rose in pitch. “And you don't know if you are wed to the man?"
A blush worked its way up Victoria's neck and across her cheeks. "It's not like that at all. The earl had a special license, or at least he told me he did. I was married in a private ceremony at a small inn, and then I fainted. But I never received the marriage certificate. Actually, I never signed anything." She paused. "And we were never... together."
"A special license? A private ceremony? You fainted? And you have no marriage certificate?" Sarah plopped onto the bed, her face white with shock. "Well, it sounds so reasonable, Victoria, I find myself speechless."
Victoria looked beyond the drizzle of the night as frustrating tears began to collect in her eyes. A clap of thunder sounded, and she dropped her gaze to the walk. A black-cloaked figure paced the street corner beside the street lamps.
A cold shudder ran through her as she turned toward Sarah.
"I know it sounds mad, but it truly did happen. There's more to it... things I cannot bear to tell you."
Wiping a hand over her eyes, Victoria glanced back through the window. The figure had disappeared only to be replaced by a sheet of heavy rain. "I was a stupid fool to have put our family in this insufferable position, and I am heartily sorry for it. Aunt Phoebe has an offer from a duke, and now the scandal may ruin us all."
"Oh, Victoria." Sarah rose, pulling her cousin toward the bed to sit. "Had I known of your plan, I never would have let you leave this house."
"I know, and I have made a mess out of everything. But I will think of another plan, depend upon it."
"No more plans. I beg you. But you must tell me more about this earl."
"I met Lord Nightham at that ball when I met the duke."
Sarah stiffened. "Phoebe's duke?"
"Yes."
"That tall, blond gentleman who danced two waltzes with you?"
Victoria nodded. "Since then, Lord Nightham pursued me. He wanted me to marry him, and I finally said yes. He bumped into me a few times at Hyde Park when I was out with either Mrs. Dorling or William. I realize now that he had planned those coincidental meetings to see me, and I still don't know why he chose me, but he did. He tried to be discreet about his intentions, even sending me letters through a servant boy, because he wanted to save his poor mother the worry over his search for a wife. The poor lady has palpitations, he said."
"Mrs. Do
rling had mentioned you had a few admirers at the Park, but I never suspected one of them was Lord Nightham."
"He was the only one. He gave me a way to help Phoebe, William, and you, so I took it."
"But you should not have done it, you know."
Victoria felt her chest tighten with guilt. "I know. He was such a good man."
"Was? You mean is."
"Was."
"What do you mean?"
Victoria cleared her throat. "Just what it sounds like. Past tense. Not present."
Sarah blinked. "Are you telling me Lord Nightham is dead?"
Victoria nodded and walked across the floor to her bureau, pulling out the top drawer. "We agreed to marry at this quaint village about a half-day's ride from London. A lady named Mrs. Hinckleberry escorted us. I don't know where she lives, but she was foxed the entire ride and disappeared as soon as we arrived at the inn."
A thunderous boom shook the house. Both women jumped.
"Here it is." Victoria's hand emerged, exposing a small gold ring set off with a brilliant ruby. "This belonged to him."
Sarah picked up the candle and moved closer. "Oh, my." The light hit the gem, setting off a pink glow about the room. She looked up at Victoria. "What happened?"
"After I fainted, I found myself in one of the rooms at the inn with a strange man hovering over my bed, while unbeknownst to me, Lord Nightham was slashed to death outside."
Sarah gasped. "Slashed? How dreadful."
Victoria's lips pinched. "There's more. The stranger promised Lord Nightham that he would take care of me, monetarily, that is. After a time, I believed the man to be family and then a friend, but I find myself uncertain of either one anymore."
Her gaze lifted to her cousin's stunned face. "You see, at first, the man did not take me for a lady. He thought I was marrying Lord Nightham for his wealth, which I was, of course, but Lord Nightham knew that."
Sarah's gaze softened as she came forward and put her hands on Victoria's shoulders. "Did he take liberties with you, dearest?"
"No." Victoria shook her head. "But he was a hateful man. I escaped him and returned here with no one the wiser. I could not bear to tell anyone about what happened. No one knew I married the earl except those few at the inn.
And now, I am not certain I married him at all. You must have read about Lord Nightham's death in the papers."
Sarah blanched. "There was something said at Percy Hall about a deceased earl, and the duke seemed terribly upset about the man's death, but His Grace seemed to put on a good face when Phoebe was near."
Victoria slipped the ring back in the drawer and sank onto her bed. "Whoever the stranger was who knew Nightham made mention of having the scandal hushed. However, the thought of Lord Nightham's mother burdened with her son's murder haunts me to no end. Someday, I wish to ask her forgiveness."
"You should tell Phoebe," Sarah replied shakily.
Victoria's eyes widened. "No. Please, I don't want her involved. Don't you see, people might think I killed Lord Nightham? Besides, I could never claim to be his widow. I have no certificate to prove the marriage ever happened. I don't even have the vicar's name or that of the witnesses. It would be a wretched scandal. If I could only wait until your mother marries the duke, you would all be safe."
Victoria lifted her chin. "Don't look at me that way, Sarah. You know it is the only way. After Aunt Phoebe is married, I can seek the help I need to sort this all out."
"But this is dreadful." Sarah's bare feet brushed against the rug beside Victoria's bed. "Who is this man that followed you to the inn?"
"I don't know." Victoria let out a nervous laugh. "And I never want to see that detestable man again. Of course, I think he wished me dead instead of the earl. Why, the man's probably glad he's seen the last of me."
But her heart pounded wildly as two hard gray eyes focused in her memory. Glad? No doubt the man was positively livid!
The man stared across the street, his eyes attached to the soft candlelight flickering in the upstairs window of the London townhouse. He studied her silhouette, her slender body and that magnificent mane of hair. The gangly-legged freckled-face girl had turned into quite a beauty. But she had no man to take care of her now. Lord Nightham was dead.
He laughed to himself. The lady had no man but him.
His grin grew broader. She would gladly take him as a husband after her disgracing exhibition at that shabby little inn. He would see to that. It was a stroke of luck that the vicar had been an imposter. Nightham had no brains at all. Nevertheless, the fraudulent minister and the two servants had to disappear. Permanently. Each deed had been done with one quick slice of his knife. It was pathetic how easy the killings had been. But it was Nightham's lingering death that had been the best.
Still grinning, the man turned to leave. He didn't see the carriage until it was too late. The oncoming vehicle splattered mud toward the walk, covering the man's shiny black boots all the way to his beaver hat.
"Idiot driver!" The man threw his fist in the air. "I'll kill you! Kill you, do you hear me?" He cursed with a vengeance as he tried to flick the slop off his coat.
But as he did, he missed the blond-haired boy pressing his nose against the townhouse window, making plans of his own.
Chapter Five
Two weeks later Victoria sat in Phoebe's carriage as the vehicle returned her family to their London townhouse. The party at the duke's residence in Grosvenor Square had been troublesome indeed. She peered down at her gloved hands, hoping the darkness of night would hide her uneasiness from Phoebe and Sarah.
Though the duke's first son had not made an appearance at the soiree, she shuddered as she thought about the duke's second son, Lord James. His coal black hair, chiseled jaw line, and muscular build were similar to the duke's except for the sprinkle of gray about the older man's temples.
If those men had worn their hair any longer, in a deeper shade of black, and if she exchanged slate gray eyes for their brown, and added a few inches in height, they would have resembled her pirate from the inn.
Clasping her hands about her reticule, Victoria stared out the window. The lamps, carriages, and buildings passed by in a blur of shadows as Nightham's death haunted her.
"His Grace was most kind tonight, was he not, my dears?" Phoebe asked, her words glowing with love.
Victoria gave her aunt a genuine smile. "I do hope the duke knows what he's up against. The man may have three boys, but that fact does not stack up against one William."
Sarah's eyes held a teasing glint. "Do you dare think he should be warned of the pirate that lurks in our family?"
Phoebe fidgeted with her gloves. "I daresay, George has seen William at work. Besides, he has plenty of that in his own household, too." Phoebe looked up and gave Victoria a wink. "The oldest son is hideously handsome they say. Though I have not had the pleasure of his acquaintance as of yet."
Victoria smiled at her aunt, but inwardly grimaced.
Minutes later, Sarah elbowed Victoria in the ribs as they entered the townhouse. "You should have seen the black spider that fell into the duke's soup back at Percy Hall. Mama about had a fit."
Victoria frowned. "What did the duke say?"
"Not a word," Sarah said with a straight face. "But his glaring gaze said more than words ever could. Even William turned quite red in the face."
As Sarah made her way to her chambers, Victoria found herself alone in the hall with her aunt.
"What is it, my dear?" Phoebe frowned, slipping her hand into Victoria's. "Is it about that viscount? I saw Lord Foxcroft kiss you, my dear, and I have it on the best authority that he is every bit of the gentleman, most of the time. You need not worry." Her eyes sparkled with a faraway expression.
Victoria blinked. Goodness. Aunt Phoebe had seen the viscount's stolen kiss? It had been an innocent peck on the cheek, but still...
"Have no worry." Aunt Phoebe gently tapped her hand. "The viscount is like one of the duke's own sons. George had a wor
d with him in the library. I won't let anyone harm one strand of that beautiful hair of yours, and neither will His Grace. Now sleep tight, and remember that tomorrow is a new day."
The duke had spoken to Lord Foxcroft? How humiliating.
"Aunt Phoebe?"
"Yes, dearest?"
"What exactly did you mean when you said that the duke mentioned he had plenty of that in his own household?"
"Oh, that." Phoebe clasped her hands together in amusement. "I was referring to his eldest son, you know, the pirate. I had mentioned him before."
Victoria's knees slowly began to buckle, and she leaned against her bedchamber door for support. So, it was true then. "The pirate?"
"Oh, I am not suggesting a real pirate. I thought I made it clear. He only looks like one. Drake, that is George's first born, is the Marquess of Drakefield, you know. They say his hair is to his shoulders, jet-black like James, but even darker and tied back in a silly tail behind his head. They also say his demeanor is anything but docile. But George loves him, and I imagine I will as well. And by the way," she whispered ever so softly as she walked toward her room, "they say he is by far the most handsome man on the face of the earth. Of course, I think his father a rather good-looking specimen myself."
With those profound words, Phoebe let out a girlish giggle and stepped down the hall into her chambers.
Victoria dragged herself into her room, her heart banging against her ribs. But it took only three seconds for her to snap out of her doldrums when she felt a slimy creature slide across her feet.
"WILLIAM!"
Her voice jolted the entire household, especially the snickering blond boy who quickly retrieved his slimy friend from his cousin's bedchamber, then hid under his own bed, along with his second in command, and a nice soft blanket.
It was just before noon the following day when Victoria awoke. As she dressed for the day, she was informed that Lord Foxcroft was waiting in the drawing room. She drew in an unsteady breath. Tiny footsteps padded in the hall. She guessed it was William with his pile of creatures planning his next move. If that were her only trouble, she could handle the situation.
To Marry A Marquess (A Regency Romance) Page 6