Tom exhaled. He couldn’t help Vicky more than a guard could. As he descended the stairs to the ground floor, the trying thought that Vicky still felt Carmichael was her best chance for marriage gnawed at him. He rubbed at a strange, sudden tightness in his chest, then decided to ignore it. He dropped his hand to his side. He would call on her tomorrow and find out what she’d learned about Carmichael, if anything.
And in the meantime, he’d have to content himself with extolling the merits of his hotel scheme. Lord Axley had offered him a cigar down in the pit, and Tom had no intention of letting the man’s proximity go to waste.
Chapter the Twentieth
She hoped they might now become friends again.
—Jane Austen, Emma
Vicky leaned closer to her looking glass and played with the curls framing her face, trying to improve the effect in any small way. In the morning, Tom had sent a note saying he’d be calling around teatime.
“You look lovely.”
Vicky turned over her shoulder and saw Althea in the doorway. Vicky bit her lower lip to hide her astonishment that her sister had paid her a compliment.
Althea herself looked better than she had in quite a while. She was still very thin, but her peony-pink day dress brought out a blush in her cheeks. Vicky smiled at her and turned back to the mirror. She pinched some color into her own cheeks.
“Thank you. Do you think Cook will serve strawberry tarts today?” she asked, believing it safer to keep to mundane topics.
“I think you’re going to quite a bit of trouble for a boy who broke your heart long ago.”
Vicky’s hand froze at her temple. Thea was right. This was simply tea. Tom’s presence shouldn’t influence her state of mind. However, she did want to look pretty, if only for herself. She glanced at her cornflower-blue dress with its delicate cap sleeves and nodded. The dress showed her figure to its best advantage.
Still, why did it follow that the only purpose of looking well was to attract a gentleman’s attention? She didn’t seriously believe Tom could ever be interested in her in that way. He never had been. And she wasn’t so arrogant as to believe her appearance could sway him to such thoughts.
“Tom didn’t break my heart. He broke our friendship,” she said into the mirror.
Her sister’s reflection stared back at her from where she stood, just inside the door. Her chin tilted downward, and her eyes widened slightly. “There was little difference at the time.”
Vicky had snapped at everyone who’d approached her in those first weeks after he’d left. Then she’d wept on her mother’s shoulder when she finally realized Tom was abroad for good and would probably never reply to her letters.
She took a deep breath. Things were actually starting to feel familiar between them again. He was concerned for her, and not just out of gentlemanly conduct. She was certain he was coming today to keep an eye on her. So to some degree, he must wish to be friends again. Which was quite gratifying, really, after missing him for so many years.
She smoothed down the hair at her temple. “Don’t worry, Thea. No doubt Tom is just calling to see we are well.”
Her mind flitted to Mr. Carmichael. They’d had a lovely evening at the theater, and she liked him even more. He’d answered all her questions about his strange behavior to her satisfaction. For the first time in days, she felt sure all would turn out well. Perhaps her life had become a sensational novel for a few weeks, but surely it would end like Pride and Prejudice and leave her happy and in a position to help her dear family.
She faced Althea. “I’m charged with finding a husband, and I will not shirk my duty,” she said with a decisive nod. She’d sounded a bit too much like an army officer, but Althea bobbed her head. Her pursed lips pointed down at the corners.
Vicky opened her mouth to placate her further, but Sarah poked her head through the doorway.
“Excuse me, Lady Dain, Lady Victoria, but Lord Halworth has arrived.”
Tea had gone much better than Vicky had anticipated. She’d worried her parents might take Tom to task for what had happened all those years ago, but as her father was still recovering, he’d remained in his bedchamber, and her mother, though not precisely friendly, had been behaving herself admirably. Tom seemed to be in good humor as he regaled them with stories of Swiss customs, especially their affection for their cows.
Althea had even spoken up to ask Tom to describe the countryside. As Tom talked of the great snow-topped Alps that stretched into the sky and of waterfalls that trickled down their slopes to create cracks and crevices in their sides, Vicky wished she could have seen what he had.
“It must be a magical place,” Vicky said with a sigh.
Tom took a bite of his cake. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”
“Why?” Althea asked.
Tom tilted his head. “Like anywhere else, there is poverty—although the poor there do not live in anything so vile as some of the conditions I’ve seen here in London.”
Vicky’s eyebrows shot upward. “Really? What have you s—”
“Where is Charles today, Lord Halworth?” Vicky’s mother interrupted.
Vicky’s gaze flew to her mother. She gave Vicky a pointed look.
Tom cleared his throat and took a gulp of his tea. Vicky rolled her eyes. Leave it to her mama to force conversation away from “unladylike” topics.
“He had an engagement, I’m afraid,” Tom said. “He did send his compliments to you all.” Tom cleared his throat again and caught Vicky’s eye. With a barely perceptible snap, he tilted his head toward the door.
Vicky frowned. Did he want to leave?
“I had thought he might accompany me here,” Tom went on, “but his schedule is a constant mystery. Sometimes he frequents the club, but like as not, he is somewhere outside.” He emphasized the last word and made another motion with his head.
This time Vicky understood. She set her teacup and saucer on the table.
“Mama,” she asked with a smile, “would you mind my showing Tom the garden? I don’t believe he’s ever seen it, and the sun has just come out.” She nodded toward the window as proof.
Her mother glanced outside. “I don’t see why not. Perhaps Althea would care for some sun as well.”
All eyes slid to Althea, who shifted in her seat.
“Thank you, no,” she said into her teacup.
Vicky could have kissed her.
Tom set down his plate of cake. Vicky stood and Tom did the same, murmuring his thanks to her mother. He gestured for Vicky to lead the way.
“Don’t be gone long, Victoria,” her mother said.
Vicky sighed inwardly. “Of course, Mama.”
Her mother gave her a look that betrayed her unhappiness at the prospect of Vicky and Tom being alone together, but Vicky ignored her. They stepped out of the parlor into the hall, which led them out to a brick-lined pathway to the garden. Compared to the grounds at Oakbridge, the garden here was minute, but there was a multitiered ornamental fountain running across half its width, beds of roses on either side, and a lovely old bench in the very back corner shaded by a mature elder bush. Vicky took the left path around the roses.
Tom’s footsteps thudded on the grass as he caught up to her.
Vicky glanced at him over her shoulder. “I’m sorry. Sometimes Mama can be a bit overbearing.”
Tom shrugged, but a smile played upon his lips.
“I take it you wished to speak privately,” she said, raising her brows.
He nodded. “I’m glad you understood. I’m not certain what I could’ve tried next, short of angering your mother further by asking to see the garden myself.”
Vicky smiled. “That would have been amusing, at least.” She skirted the rose bed until they reached the fountain.
Vicky looked at Tom, but he was gazing into the water.
“Truthfully, ever since that day I nearly carried you through the front door of Oakbridge, I’ve been waiting for her to scold me as though I were still a b
oy.”
Vicky raised her brows. “Why?”
He threw her a sidelong glance. “For acting the way I did back then. For driving you away.”
Vicky’s head pivoted toward him slowly. Had he actually spoken those words? Her lips parted. “Why did you?” she asked quietly.
His brow creased as he stared into the water. “To protect you.”
Her head gave a little shake. “Protect me? From whom?”
“From him,” he murmured.
Vicky frowned. Whom could he mean? Then her mind flew back to that day at Halworth Hall and the way his father had knocked him to the ground. “Your father?”
He nodded. “He was—not a good man.”
Vicky pressed her lips together. Of course, she’d known the Earl and Countess of Halworth did not have a happy marriage. Tom had never spoken of his father in a flattering light. When she was still a young girl, Vicky’s own father had cautioned her to stay out of the earl’s way when she visited Tom at the Hall. “But surely he would not have hurt me,” she whispered.
Tom’s gaze centered on the flow of the fountain. “I couldn’t take that chance.” He paused. “He never much cared whom he hurt.”
Vicky heaved in a great breath. As she exhaled, the weight that had settled on her soul since the day Tom had stopped speaking to her seemed to ease. She hadn’t done anything to make him hate her. In truth, he’d never hated her at all. She wanted nothing more than to take his hand in hers and squeeze it tight.
“Tom,” she began with a shake of her head, “I never should have doubted—”
“No,” Tom cut her off, turning toward her. “I don’t blame you. I could not speak of it. It was too painful. I still cannot.” He turned from the fountain and motioned to the bench at the end of the garden.
Vicky nodded, and they slowly continued on. She didn’t know what to say. She was lucky in so many ways—in all the ways he was not. He deserved better.
“Althea seems improved in her spirits,” Tom said.
Vicky made an affirmative noise. “Today is the first time I’ve seen her so well. I’ve tried to take your advice and be as patient as possible, but we had a row the other day. She’s been so different lately.”
“That’s no surprise.”
Vicky glanced up at him.
His jaw looked tight. “What she must have endured with Dain would change anyone.”
Vicky frowned. “I’m ashamed to admit I still don’t really understand.”
His gaze cut sideways to meet hers. “The world is not the fairy tale you believe it to be. Though Oakbridge and your family were as close to perfect as I ever thought I’d know.”
Vicky’s lips parted. Was that why he’d always spent so much time with them?
“You and your family have caught a glimpse of what mine has suffered. All one can do is consign such things to the past and attempt to move on.”
Vicky’s chest tightened.
“Althea was fortunate to escape him when she did. Now she may have some chance of returning to her old self,” Tom said.
Vicky swallowed to quell the burning in her throat. If only she knew what to say to help. But perhaps there was nothing she could say. And that in itself was a sobering thought.
They reached the bench beneath the elder bush, and Tom waited for Vicky to sit before lowering himself next to her. The sweet scent of cake and fresh roses wafted toward him and the effect was profound enough to make him sit a good half foot closer than he knew he should. Her head tilted up to look at him, a tentative smile upon her lips. Unnerved, he leaned back into the bench, feeling like a damn fool.
He should get to the point of his visit. “I saw you and Carmichael at the theater last night,” he said, letting his gaze rest on a small daisy poking its head out of the grass.
Vicky’s head swiveled toward him, but he refused to meet her eyes.
“Why didn’t you say hello?”
He swallowed. “You were enjoying yourself. My presence would’ve spoiled Carmichael’s manners.”
She scoffed, and he threw her a knowing look.
“Did you ask about his dealings with Dain?”
She pursed her lips for a split second. “Apparently, my father told Mr. Carmichael about Althea’s situation. I asked why he hesitated to remove Dain, and he said he was trying not to make a scene for my family’s sake.”
Tom shook his head. “That doesn’t explain what he said to Dain at the musicale.”
“He could have meant he didn’t want Dain disturbing us because of Althea. And I don’t believe he’d want Oakbridge. He’s just purchased an abbey a half day’s ride away.”
Tom resisted the urge to make a face. Carmichael was no fool. Owning a house so close to Oakbridge could only make his pursuit of Victoria easier. “Another reason for you to marry him.”
Vicky frowned. “I found his explanations perfectly satisfactory.”
Tom angled toward her. “His explanations sound vague at best.”
She lifted her chin. “He’s not the only gentleman I know who does not relish explaining his actions.”
He made an involuntary noise of protest, but said nothing. She had him there.
Her eyes softened. “Why must you find him so objectionable?”
He exhaled. “He and Dain are involved in something. I just don’t know what.”
“It could be anything under the sun, as far as you know. Something not necessarily sinister,” she said with a small smile and a tilt of her head.
He shook his head. They’d mentioned great stakes and not in the way one discussed games of chance or a day at the races. But there was no way to make her believe him. Carmichael was Vicky’s best marital option, and she’d made up her mind to trust him.
“What did your father say about his business arrangement with Carmichael?”
She hesitated. “I haven’t asked him yet. I was waiting until Papa was less out of sorts.”
Tom thought it a rather important matter to not broach immediately, but he didn’t think she’d take kindly to him belaboring the point. “I wrote to my mother about the Halworth land Dain was trying to buy. I haven’t hired a new steward yet, but I hope she’ll find someone qualified to assess the land’s value while I remain here. You might have your father’s steward do the same at Oakbridge—especially at the border of the two properties.”
Vicky wet her lips. “I shall speak with Papa today. It would indeed be best to possess all the facts before I must . . . make a choice.”
Tom let out a great breath and turned so he faced her fully. “Just please don’t rush into anything. I don’t want you to wake up and find yourself shackled to a man you don’t know.”
She dropped her gaze. “I have to marry someone.”
He frowned. “I know.” No one knew the anvil’s weight of responsibility better than he. Marriage to Carmichael would mean saving her family and the home she cherished, a prominent position in society, wealth, a country house an easy distance to Oakbridge, and an honorable life. Yet if Carmichael and Dain had an arrangement concerning Oakbridge land as Tom suspected, her marriage would be for naught. And she would be trapped. No family’s reputation could withstand two divorces, even if they could acquire them.
She stared out at the fountain. He dragged his eyes from the errant tendril of hair curling at the nape of her neck to the water sloshing down the stones in a calming rhythm.
He wished he could help her, but he simply didn’t know anyone worthy of her. Perhaps Charles knew somebody, but from what he’d seen of Charles’s friends, none of them would suit.
There had to be some solution, yet it evaded him.
He couldn’t let her be bound to Carmichael. He refused! Even if he had to marry her himself.
Tom felt a wave of heat rush over him. As soon as the thought materialized, he shoved it down and away. It was a poisoned thought born of his complete lack of trust in Carmichael’s intentions. Tom had nothing to offer Vicky—not money, not security, not even love�
�only a shared childhood and a useless title. It would be reckless. It would be the opposite of protecting her. It would be saddling her to a bloodline tainted by the basest traits and appetites—to someone wholly undeserving of her.
He sighed and rubbed his brow.
“I began reading Pride and Prejudice,” he said to keep himself from continuing down that path.
Her face lit up. “Did you?”
He nodded. “Elizabeth Bennet. I see why you are so fond of her. She is charming.”
Vicky’s smile widened as she angled her torso toward him. “I’m so glad you think so. She is my particular favorite of Miss Austen’s heroines.”
He cast his gaze away from the green flecks in her eyes. “I cannot say I care much for this Mr. Darcy thus far,” he confessed, thinking of what Susie had said about the character’s resemblance to him.
Vicky hummed in her throat. “Mr. Carmichael told me he doesn’t care for him either. I wonder if you will think alike when you’ve finished it.”
Tom didn’t much like the idea of agreeing with Carmichael on anything, but he held his tongue.
“I know you have a responsibility to your family,” Tom said, “but you don’t have to do anything yet. See if you meet someone at the next ball. I’ll even assist you if I can.” Assist in binding her to a stranger. This could not end well.
Vicky tilted her head. “That might be helpful, actually. You’d be something like a brother.”
A brother? He supposed when they were children, he was the closest thing she’d had to a brother. But for some reason the idea rankled. He cleared his throat. “Yes. Something like that.”
His stomach churned. No. This could not end well. Not well at all.
Chapter the Twenty-First
Dangerous Alliance Page 23