Читать книгу Lady Thorn - Catherine Archer - Страница 10

With that, Victoria left him and went to what she still thought of as her father’s study. From behind that enormous black lacquer desk, he had directed not only his continued financial success, but also the well-being of the people he was responsible for.

She was accountable for doing the same. She would not allow thoughts of Jedidiah McBride and his stubborn American independence to distract her from her work. Many people depended on her being clear in her thinking. Victoria seated herself at the desk and rang for her estate manager, with whom she had a standing appointment.

As she waited, she thought about the many hours she had spent at this desk, the efforts she had made to fill her father’s proficient shoes. In the beginning, she had been frightened and uncertain about fulfilling his responsibilities with even a modicum of competence. In the end, she had come to realize that she must trust in her own judgment. After all, there was no one else. It was because she had learned to trust herself that Victoria told herself to accept her first impression of Jedidiah McBride.

Her parents would have approved of the American. Her father had always said a man must be judged by his action and not by his title. And Victoria knew that anyone who came to her aid so gallantly would have earned no criticism from her mother.

Once more she asked herself what it was about Jedidiah McBride that awakened her. Perhaps, she told herself hopefully, he was not the cause. She recalled the start of awareness she had felt when his hand brushed hers. Perhaps it was her own realization that she must marry that made her begin to feel more awareness of the opposite gender.

A discreet cough brought her attention back to the present. The estate manager, Robert Fuller, stood waiting for her. His quiet demeanor and conservative brown attire did not disguise the keen intelligence in his brown eyes. Victoria knew him to be a man who missed little, a man able to read most people and situations quite accurately. It was one of the reasons he was so valuable to her, but today, especially when she considered what she had been thinking, those skills seemed less desirable than usual.

Victoria flushed, clearing her throat and feeling decidedly grateful that the man could not read her thoughts. She also felt a trace of irritation with herself. She had no cause to think of the obstinate sea captain in any but the most impersonal of ways. As the man had told her himself, theirs was a business arrangement.

Refusing to even acknowledge any hint of regret, Victoria forced, her mind to concentrate on the present. Her duty must not be forgotten. “Mr. Fuller, please be seated. I’m sure there is much to be seen to, as I have decided to go up to London for at least a part of the season. Shall we get to it?”

If he had indeed noted her agitation, Mr. Fuller gave no indication of it, for with a nod he sat down and opened his case. Victoria felt herself flushing again. Of course he had seen nothing. It was her own ridiculous fascination with Jedidiah McBride that made her think otherwise. Determinedly she put him out of her mind.

Some two hours later, Victoria had seen to innumerable matters, including her approval of the distribution of extra funds to the orphanage she supported. She had also refused to increase the amount paid to the greedy blackguard who transported the coal from her mines to the railroad. She’d done some checking and found that the man already earned more than most of his counterparts. ‘Victoria had an innate sense of fairness that would not allow her to cheat others, but she was equally careful about not being swindled herself.

When Mr. Fuller had gathered up his books and notes, she left the study and went to her own bedchamber to freshen up before luncheon. Victoria’s room was adorned in ivory and varying shades of rose. She and her mother had decorated the room together when she was sixteen. Even if it hadn’t been such a pleasant and peaceful decor, Victoria did not think she would ever be inclined to change it. Just waking up and seeing the deep rose hangings above the bed called to mind her mother’s delicate floral scent and the sound of her gentle voice as they had viewed bolt after bolt of fabric, until they found just the right shade to match the rosebud centers in the brocade upholstery on the chairs.

Victoria sighed with unconscious longing. The wound of her parents’ passing was not so fresh as it had once been, yet she still missed their loving presence in her life.

Enough, she told herself. There was no sense bemoaning her fate. It was fortunate that she had little time to dwell on her loneliness. Besides, she would soon have a husband to lessen the sadness, she reminded herself with determination, though the thought did little to soothe her.

Going to the dressing table, “Victoria sat down and viewed herself in the gilt-edged mirror. For the first time since she was a young girl, she found herself wondering how she would appear to a man.

There was certainly no hint of fashionable beauty in her regular features. She lacked the pursed lips, blue eyes and sweetly rounded face that found such favor in the eyes of those who decided such things.

Her own gray eyes, though pleasant enough and thickly lashed, were too direct, her mouth was too full, her cheekbones were too high. No, she thought, shaking her head regretfully, there was not a hint of great beauty in her. Then her full mouth thinned in irony as she acknowledged that this lack did not mean she was completely undesirable. The vast fortune and social position she had been left were attractive enough for many to seek her out.

Since her very earliest realizations that she would someday marry, Victoria had wished to be treated as a woman first and the daughter of a duke second. No man besides Jedidiah McBride had ever done that. For that was exactly what he had done by coming to her aid with no notion of who she was or what she stood for.

Her hand drifted of its own accord to smooth the soft dark curls at her temples. What would Jedidiah have done if he had not found out that she was a noblewoman, one of the breed he so clearly disdained?

For a brief moment last night in the carriage, when he looked at her, she’d thought… But no. Not since discovering who she was had he given any hint that he might be attracted to her.

She frowned at her reflection, her fingers tracing the lace collar that edged the neckline of her yellow gown. Even though the hooped confection was of the very latest design, with its wide lace-trimmed sleeves and multitiered skirt, it certainly was not her best color.

Surely she had something more… But she resisted the urge to summon Betty to her chamber. The maid would wonder what was amiss if her mistress changed for the midday meal. She never did so.

She stood abruptly, knowing there was no time for such frivolity, and absolutely no need for it. There was no reason to worry about her appearance simply because a man happened to be in residence, even if he was undeniably handsome and made her heart turn over when he smiled at her. Victoria already was overdue in meeting with the head cook to go over the next week’s menus. By the time she was finished with that, the luncheon would be ready to serve.

It would not be polite to keep either the servants or Mr. Jedidiah McBride waiting. She felt a strange fluttering in her belly at the thought of seeing him again. Her immediate attempts to still the sensation were not as successful as she would have wished.

‘Victoria was just giving the cook one final suggestion for a change in menu when there was a knock on the drawing room door. She called out, “Enter,” then turned to finish what she had been saying as one of the footmen came into the room. “Beef on Tuesday, I think, Mrs. Everard, rather than the usual chicken.” Something about Jedidiah McBride told her he was a man who preferred beef to chicken.

The cook looked at her mistress in obvious surprise. “Beef on Tuesday, my lady?”

Victoria was aware that they had been eating chicken on Tuesdays for as long as she could recall. “As I’m sure you are aware, my cousin from America is visiting us. I wish to make him comfortable and content while he is here. His visit comes as a welcome surprise to me. Who would have thought that Great-uncle Lionel’s grandson would make an appearance here in England. For years no one had any clue as to what had become of the family adventurer.”

Mrs. Everard smiled at her mistress with the proper mixture of fondness and deference. “It is a true wonder, and very good to see that you have family again.” The cook lowered her blue eyes and nodded her gray head. “I will see that there is a nice roast laid on that day.”

Victoria nodded in return, glad to have the housekeeper accept her explanation for Jedidiah McBride’s presence so readily. She could only hope it would go so well once they began to introduce him to society. “Thank you, Mrs. Everard. You are, as ever, most accommodating. Also, I wish to inform you that there will be no need to prepare a menu list for the next week. We will be going to the London house to attend some of the events of the season.”

The head cook curtsied and turned to go with a selfsatisfied smile at the compliment. Victoria halted her. “One last thing, Mrs. Everard.”

The robust woman swung back to face her. “Yes, my lady.”

“Coffee.”

“Yes, my lady?”

“My cousin prefers coffee to tea. I would appreciate your seeing that he has some of that beverage each morning.”

Another curtsy. “As you wish, my lady.” She left the room.

Victoria then turned to the footman. “Yes, Charles?”

“I have been sent to inform you that Miss Mary has arrived.”

Victoria made a soft noise of surprise even as she stood and hurried across the room to the door, which the footman opened for her. She had forgotten having asked Mary to lunch with her. Which, she told herself, was not completely irresponsible of her, considering the events of the past twelve hours.

Should she tell Mary the sea captain’s true identity? Not since they’d become friends as children had Victoria kept any secret from her.

Hurrying across the foyer to where her best and only true friend awaited her, Victoria held out her hands. “Mary, how good it is to see you. How is your father?” She studied her friend with true concern. There were faint shadows beneath her golden-brown eyes, and Mary sighed as she removed her straw bonnet and ran a hand over her goldstreaked brown hair. The hat was prettily decorated with dried flowers from her garden, and was simple in design, as Mary preferred things to be. She wore no hoop beneath her dark blue skirts, having told Victoria that she had no use for such conceits when the device made its appearance the previous year. She felt it did not offer her enough freedom in her walks across the moors, but there was little of the accustomed energy in Mary’s movements as she turned back to her friend.

Victoria knew that the reverend’s illness was beginning to take its toll on his daughter, though she would never complain. Mary’s unstinting devotion to the sick man was one of the very reasons she insisted on having her friend to luncheon on a regular basis. Knowing how important this weekly outing was to Mary’s well-being made Victoria flush with shame at having forgotten it.

Victoria tried not to show how flustered she felt as she listened to Mary, who replied with sad resignation. “Father is the same. Mrs. Withers was good enough to agree to sit with him for a few hours so I could come.” She paused, studying Victoria with those unwaveringly direct golden eyes of hers, then said, “Why, Victoria, you had forgotten I was coming.” As ever, she had been able to read her mind. Her tone was more amused than upset, effectively alleviating some of Victoria’s remorse.

Despite her troubled preoccupation with Jedidiah McBride, Victoria gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I am afraid you have me there.”

Mary’s father was the vicar of the church in Carlisle, and a very learned scholar. Victoria had gone to him for lessons for years, and Mary had been present at those lessons. The bond that had been forged from the first day at the age of six was stronger than iron. Under no circumstances could Victoria keep a secret from her, and that included the truth about Jedidiah McBride’s identity.

Mary was the one person with whom she must not stand on ceremony, which made Victoria cherish their friendship all the more. Even after the decision to tell all was made, Victoria felt an unexpected sense of shyness at the idea of speaking of Jedidiah to her friend.

Not wishing to question the cause of this feeling, she leaned close to the slightly shorter Mary. “I have so much to tell you.”

Even as Mary’s eyes widened, displaying her obvious curiosity at her friend’s words, Victoria took her arm and pulled her into the library. After first making sure it was vacant, she pushed the other woman down into one of the leather chairs that sat before the lacquered desk.

Victoria remained standing, feeling too agitated to sit. She only hoped that Mary would not think she had gone mad. In spite of her self-professed disregard for propriety and convention, Mary was quite levelheaded, and Victoria very much respected her opinions on all matters.

As Victoria began her story, Mary settled back in her seat to listen. Only when the attempted kidnapping was mentioned did she make any sound, interrupting with a gasp. “Victoria, how can you stand there so calmly and tell me this? Have you called the law?”

Victoria shook her head. “No, but really, there was no need. You do not know Reginald Cox, but believe me, he is a coward of the worst order. The only reason I have any kind of acquaintance with him is that his mother and mine were friends as girls. When we were children, he sometimes visited Briarwood with her.”

When Mary opened her mouth as if to say more, Victoria stopped her with a raised hand. “If you’ll allow me to finish, you’ll understand why he is no threat to me.” The woman subsided, folding her hands in her lap, though she appeared no less concerned.

The horrified expression on her face was soon replaced with satisfaction when Victoria went on to tell of her unexpected rescue by the sea captain, Jedidiah McBride. As she continued to describe the events that had taken place since that fateful meeting, Mary began to smile.

Only when Victoria had finished did she speak. “My, Victoria, but you are a dark horse.”

Victoria frowned at her. “And what do you mean by that? It seemed like the most natural solution to ask him to be my protector. He had already proven himself quite capable, and he did have need of my help in return.”

Mary shook her head, eyeing her friend closely. “That is not what I mean, and you know it. What I mean is that you are attracted to him.”

Far too quickly, Victoria reacted. “I am not.” But she knew that the words were a waste of time for she had never been able to hide anything from the other woman. The truth was that she did find him quite handsome, but there was no more to it than that. “Well, not in the way you think. Besides, it wouldn’t matter even if I was. He has quite a dislike for any person of high rank or social position.”

Mary was thoughtful, her finger worrying her full lower lip. “I wonder why? You say he is well-spoken and has a gentleman’s understanding of good manners.”

Victoria perched on the edge of the other chair. “He did inadvertently tell me something that makes me think this woman, this Nina, rejected him because she felt he was beneath her. Yet I think there might be something more, something he doesn’t want to disclose.”

“It seems there is some mystery to this man, this handsome paragon of bravery and intellect,” Mary said. “I can hardly wait to see him for myself.”

A blush stained Victoria’s cheeks. Had she really described Jedidiah that way? No wonder Mary had come to the conclusion that she was attracted to him.

At that moment, the bell sounded to announce the midday meal. “Heavens!” she cried. Standing, she took Mary’s hand. “There is no more time to discuss it. You’ll be seeing for yourself in a few moments.”

“I am most anxious to do so,” Mary said, her golden eyes growing brighter with curiosity and anticipation as she followed her friend from the library.

Victoria paused outside the small dining room, smoothing her hands over her full skirts and taking a deep breath. As she looked at Mary, Victoria saw the expectant expression on her pretty face and could not help wondering what she would make of the American. Clearly her friend was willing to keep an open mind so far. If she thought him anything but the decent man Victoria believed him to be, the vicar’s daughter would not hide it.

She realized she could not put off the moment any longer, knowing the man was very likely waiting for them. But she could not help interjecting a note of warning. “Not a word, now, until we are alone. Then you can feel free to say whatever you like about him.”

With a frown of consternation, Mary answered her, “But of course, Victoria. Am I not the soul of propriety?” Only the sparkle in her golden eyes gave away her amusement.

Victoria would not be drawn. She was far too nervous.

On entering the cheerful room, with its bright yellow walls and dark walnut furnishings, Victoria saw that Jedidiah was just coming through the door opposite them. He paused in seeming surprise on seeing Mary standing there beside her, then greeted them both with a slight bow. “Ladies.”

“Mr. McBride,” Victoria responded, feeling decidedly disturbed at the way her heart thudded at the sight of him. It really was quite silly of her to react so every time she saw the sea captain. She also knew she could not allow her interest to show in the slightest of ways without Mary taking note of it.

Victoria turned to her friend, purposefully keeping her tone cool. “May I present my guest, Mr. Jedidiah McBride?” She then turned to face him. “Mr. McBride, my dear friend Miss Mary Fulton.”

He bowed again, with a show of elegant manners that would have given any nobleman cause for pride. “How do you do, Miss Fulton? I am very pleased to meet you.”

Victoria watched Jedidiah McBride with scrutinizing eyes. She was beginning to realize that there was more to the man than he had alluded to. Last night he had been a gallant soldier rescuing her in the darkness; this morning he was a stubborn man holding his disdain for the social elite before him like a proud flag. And now, meeting Mary, he appeared the consummate gentleman.

Which man was the true Jedidiah McBride? Perhaps all. And that, Victoria realized, made him even more fascinating.

Glancing at her, Victoria saw that Mary was staring at the sea captain with her mouth agape. She gave her lovely friend a surreptitious nudge.

Mary immediately recovered herself enough to form an equally formal rejoinder. “As am I… Mr. McBride.” The brief glance she cast toward Victoria from the corner of her eye told the taller woman that she would indeed have much to say when they were alone.

Victoria motioned self-consciously toward the table, which had been laid with her grandmother’s favorite silver and the Dresden china. “Please, won’t you sit down?” She went to the head of the table.

Even as Mary took the seat to her left, Victoria could feel her penetrating gaze. Victoria deliberately trained her attention on Jedidiah. Facing him proved only slightly less uncomfortable than facing Mary. He was watching her with that one mocking brow arched over his right eye.

For some reason, Victoria had the distinct feeling that he was aware of her discomfort with the situation and was amused by it. That prickled, and she raised her chin in regal defiance.

No matter how uncomfortable this meal became, she would not allow Jedidiah McBride to get the best of her. Or, at least, she amended as he smiled and her heart skipped in response, she would not allow him to know that he had.

Jedidiah studied the two women while trying to appear not to. Victoria appeared to be completely occupied with filling her plate from the silver dishes that were presented to each of them in turn. The one Victoria had introduced as Mary seemed equally interested in him.

She smiled at him openly when she caught him glancing her way, and he could not help smiling in return. There was something very refreshing about the pretty woman, with her golden-brown hair and her eyes the color of a chunk of African amber he had once seen. There seemed not the slightest hint of artifice or pretension in her. “So, Mr. McBride,” she began without hesitation, her curiosity apparent. “How long have you been in England?”

Taking a sip of the wine that had been poured into the crystal glass in front of him, Jed smiled. “Two days.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “I wonder, is it very different from where you are from?”

He could feel Victoria’s gaze upon him as he answered, “I am not really from anywhere. I live on my ship, the Summerwind. You could say that I am based out of Bridgeport, Connecticut. That is where our shipping firm, Cook and McBride, is located.”

“Our?” she asked.

Jed scowled. He wasn’t sure now that he wanted to answer all these questions, didn’t want this situation to become personal. He glanced over at Victoria, and the way she was watching him made him wonder if she knew of his reluctance to talk about himself.

“Well?” Mary prodded unashamedly.

Jed told himself it didn’t matter if they knew some things about him. It wouldn’t really change anything. He and Victoria Thorn had a business arrangement, but he continued to be aware of her intent gaze as he went on. “‘Our’ refers to myself and my partner Peter Cook. His father, Sebastian, was the founder of Cook Shipbuilding. I… When I was eighteen, I went to work for them in the factory. As the years passed, the firm wasn’t doing well. The type of vessel they were producing was being phased out by the advent of the steamship. I, well…I came up with a design that Sebastian claimed brought them out of the red. It was a sailing ship with a large hold, but a narrower hull that increased its speed. When Sebastian died…” He hesitated for a moment as he thought of the kindness of the man and how good he had been to him. “When he died, he was generous enough to leave me a half interest in the business.”

Mary watched him with round eyes. “You relate it all so modestly Mr. McBride. Surely you are quite brilliant to have come up with such a design. How proud you must be.”

Jed could not restrain a satisfied nod as he thought of the ships. “Those ships are beauties, all right. Peter and I own the first two of that model, the Summerwind and her sister, the Winterwind.” Building those ships, having Sebastian and his family accept him, those things had changed Jed’s life. Yet he’d never quite gotten over feeling as if he were an interloper, no matter how they behaved differently.

And the Cooks had come to accept him on his terms, understanding that he could not allow himself to come too close to anyone. That would all change now that he had a son. His child would be the recipient of the love he had kept locked inside himself.

He looked up then, with a self-conscious expression, feeling as if he had already given away too much. “Enough about me, Miss Fulton. Why don’t you tell me something about yourself?” He smiled at her with as much charm as he could summon up.

He was surprised to hear her laugh. “Why, Mr. McBride, are you trying to change the subject?”

This time he could not restrain a genuine grin. “Yes, Miss Fulton, I am.”

Her eyes sparkled as she replied. “Then I shall allow you to do so.”

His gaze went to Victoria, who had said nothing throughout the exchange, simply listening with avid interest. When their gazes met, she flushed and turned her attention to her meal. As he looked at her, he realized that though he found Mary Fulton quite attractive, with her delicate features and direct gaze, she seemed somehow to fade next to the regal beauty of Victoria Thorn. This realization did not please Jed in the least.

He had no desire to find Victoria Thorn exceptional in any way. It was sheer madness on his part to do so. She represented everything he disdained, extreme wealth and social position, not to mention her titled status.

Yet he cast a surreptitious glance from her to Mary Fulton and back. Did the fact that this refreshing woman was Victoria’s friend say something about her? Something that gave lie to his beliefs?

This very morning, she had told him that not all aristocrats were the same. That they were both good and bad, like anyone else.

Jed gave himself a mental shake as he turned his attention to the roast pheasant on his plate. What Victoria said might have some validity where she was concerned, but he did not think for a moment that she was being truly honest with herself as far as her peers were concerned. The power and privilege of their circumstances held them above reproach.

And God help those who had not been born to that same lofty state. Or those who had been cast out for some perceived offense against the rules of society. Cast out and forgotten, no matter how young and foolish they might have been.

As his mother had been by her own family when she had fallen in love with and married his father.