Читать книгу The Master of Stonegrave Hall - Хелен Диксон, Хелен Диксон, Helen Dickson - Страница 10

Chapter Three

Laurence crossed to the window and perched his hip on the ledge, crossing his arms with a casualness that aggravated Victoria’s temper still further. ‘Why?’

‘I will not stay where I am made to feel uncomfortable. I will stay with Mrs Knowles. I do not want to be here.’

‘And your mother? Are you about to abandon her? Because she is certainly not well enough to be moved.’

Victoria stopped what she was doing and glowered at him. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes. Furiously she blinked them away. If she broke down and cried, he would have the mastery over her. She would not grant him that.

‘Don’t you dare try to make me feel guilty. I would never abandon my mother. Can’t you see that by bringing her here you have placed me in an impossible position? If you were so concerned about her, you should have sent for me. Until then Mrs Knowles would have taken care of her. As it is, your interfering has made the situation worse.’

Laurence’s black brows snapped together and his eyes narrowed, but his voice was carefully controlled when he spoke. ‘Interfering? You are mistaken, and before you accuse me of abducting your mother, perhaps you should take a look at yourself. You seem to forget that your education at the Academy finished last summer. Your mother has been ill for some time. Had you not returned to further your education you would have been at home to take care of her yourself instead of leaving it to others. As it was, her condition deteriorated rapidly. I had her brought to the Hall where I took full control of her care.’

His words were insulting and their meaning cut Victoria like a knife. ‘Control?’ she repeated acidly. She should have withered beneath his icy glare, but she was too enraged to be intimidated by him. ‘My mother does not come under the category of property, Lord Rockford.’

‘Now you insult me, Miss Lewis.’ His words were like a whiplash, his eyes glacial. ‘I have taken your mother in and I do not need to justify my actions for doing so, not even to you—even though you are her daughter. What matters is that she is in this house under the care of my staff and I—and you, now that you have finally turned up.’

Victoria glared at him, two bright spots of colour burning on her cheeks. She refused to look away, but there was little she could say in her defence. To a certain extent he was right. Last autumn there had been signs that her mother’s consumption was getting worse and she should not have left her. But her mother had encouraged her in her ambition to become a teacher, insisting she return to further her education, which she hoped would increase her prospects of eventually making a good marriage.

‘Have you nothing to say for yourself?’

‘What’s the point? You seem to have said it all.’

‘You are still going to Ashcomb?’

‘Yes, not that it is any of your business. You are rude, dictatorial and I cannot abide your superior male attitude. I shall not stay here a minute longer than I have to.’

Laurence arched his brows, faint amusement and a stirring of respect in the depths of his eyes. ‘That bad?’

‘Worse. You are also insufferably arrogant.’

He looked at her with condescending amusement. ‘And you, Miss Lewis, with a tongue on you that would put a viper to shame, can hardly be called a paragon of perfection.’

Victoria raised her head and gave him a haughty look. ‘Then that makes two of us, Lord Rockford.’

‘I realise that you have been inconvenienced by all this, Miss Lewis, but taking everything into account, you must see that I have been more inconvenienced than you.’

‘In which case I shall do us both a favour and remove myself from your house. I shall come here every day and sit with my mother—if that is agreeable to you—but I will not sleep under this roof another night. Not only is being under it abhorrent to me, I have no wish to be the cause of contention between you and your brother.’

‘You’re not.’

‘You could have fooled me.’

Laurence’s dark brows rose in sardonic amusement. ‘And what will you tell the villagers of Ashcomb? That the master of Stonegrave Hall has turned you out?’

‘No. I am not one to tittle-tattle.’ She stopped what she was doing and looked at him squarely. ‘Your brother is clearly deeply upset about my mother being here. In fact, I would go so far as to say he is positively hostile towards her. Why is that?’

‘It’s of no consequence.’

‘Not to you, maybe, but it is to me. What’s the matter? Do you think it would tax my poor female brain too much to be told the truth? What aren’t you telling me?’

Laurence’s eyes gave nothing away. Guilt and fear made him turn away from her questing look. Cursing silently, he realised that no matter what he told her now, she was going to feel duped if—when—the truth came out. Between that and the fact that he’d kept it from her because of his promise to Nathan not to reveal the true facts that had led to Betty leaving Stonegrave Hall, she was going to hate him thoroughly when this was over.

But not as much as he hated himself.

‘Nathan cannot understand why a woman who once worked for my mother has been brought here to be taken care of in her final days. The explanation is simple. My mother was extremely fond of Betty and left clear instructions that she should be taken care of should she find herself in the situation she is now in.’

‘I don’t believe you. It is more than that. I know it. Your brother’s bitterness—and I would even go so far as to say hatred of my mother—was evident. I heard him tell you that he will not set foot in this house until she has left—which gives me reason to believe it is a serious matter indeed. He said something about exposing your sordid and most intimate family linen to scrutiny and that to avoid a public scandal my mother must leave this house. Which leads me to ask how a woman who is knocking on death’s door can possibly pose such a dire threat to your family.’

‘My brother was angry. He exaggerates.’

‘I don’t think so. I know there is something you are not telling me and I swear to you, Lord Rockford, that I will find out. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like you to leave so I can finish packing my bag.’

‘Forget it,’ he said coldly. ‘You are going nowhere.’

‘I do not remember asking your permission,’ Victoria retorted defiantly.

Laurence stared hard at her. He was unaccustomed to being challenged by grown men, yet here was this slip of a girl doing exactly that. At any other time he would have laughed outright at her courage, but his annoyance and irritation caused by his encounter with his brother was still too raw.

Suppressing the unprecedented urge to gentle his words, he said curtly, ‘It wouldn’t make any difference. I refuse to give it.’

‘Then please leave me alone. I wish I’d never come here and met you. I didn’t want any of this. I didn’t ask for it. It has been thrust on me against my will.’ She breathed as if she couldn’t inhale enough air. ‘Don’t you understand that I don’t like you?’

Laurence looked at the proud young beauty who was glaring at him like an enraged angel of retribution and realised that she was on the brink of tears. He felt a twinge of conscience, which he quickly thrust away. ‘I know you don’t,’ he said coldly. ‘And you will dislike me a good deal more before I am through.’ He turned from her. In the doorway, he stopped and looked back at her, his angry gaze pinning her to the spot. ‘I mean it. You are to remain here. If your mother’s condition should take a turn for the worse during the night, you’ll put me to the trouble of sending for you. And you might be too late. Have you not thought of that?’

On that harsh note he went out, leaving Victoria feeling wretched and thoroughly deflated. Of course he was right. The hard facts were that her mother was too ill to be moved and, if she, Victoria, were to leave the Hall, there was every chance that her mother would take a turn for the worse and she would not be with her at the end.

Sinking down on to the bed, she knew she could not leave and cursed Lord Rockford with all her might for being right. She stared blindly at the closed door for a long time, her heart palpitating with frustration. A whole array of confusing emotions washed over her: anger, humiliation and a piercing, agonising loneliness she had not felt before.

Somehow, all in one day, life had become so much more serious. After just twenty-four hours of not knowing what was happening to her, of what was expected of her, she seemed to have no choice but to live and wait passively in a stranger’s house for this time to be over.

* * *

Over the following days Victoria didn’t come into contact with Lord Rockford. She suspected he was not a man who let down his guard or allowed anyone behind the professionally polite screen he projected to keep everyone at a distance. Everyone around him treated him with cautiousness—like a beautiful, healthy predator, something to be admired and feared, equally.

She realised her presence at Stonegrave Hall was the subject of a good deal of gossip and speculation in the servants’ hall—and she seemed to trip over a servant round every corner, there were so many. No one seemed to know how to treat her. She was neither a guest nor family, but the daughter of an old employee. But she had been educated at some posh school in York, so that made her different. However, when they realised she would be taking her meals in the kitchen or her room, and that Mrs Hughs and Jenkins were kindly disposed towards her, they accepted her presence in the house and got on with their work.

* * *

Craving some fresh air, Victoria escaped the confines of her mother’s sickroom for a little while. The scent of flowers assaulted her and she drew a deep breath. She paused in a secluded area of the garden. Taking an orange out of her pocket, she sat on a stone bench and began to remove the peel, putting it into her pocket to be disposed of later. She began dividing it into segments.

The sight of her stopped Laurence in mid-stride as he came round a bird topiary and his eyes warmed with fascination as he gazed at her. Seated on the bench, Miss Victoria Lewis presented a very fetching picture. Her head was bent slightly as she concentrated on the task before her, providing him with a delightful view of her patrician profile with its elegant cheekbones and delicate little nose. Sunlight glinted on her rich brown hair, picking out the golden lights, turning it into a shimmering rich waterfall that tumbled over her shoulders. Long curly eyelashes cast shadows on her smooth cheeks as she caught her lower lip between her teeth, dividing her orange.

Victoria was about to bite into one of the juicy segments when she saw Lord Rockford strolling towards her. It was the first time she had seen him since his brother’s visit and, recalling the angry words they had exchanged, she wondered how he would treat her. She watched him come closer, suddenly on her guard. Stealing a glance at his chiselled profile, she marvelled at the strength and pride carved into every feature on that starkly handsome face.

Standing before her, he looked down into her upturned face. Her body was tense and the translucent skin beneath her eyes was smudged with dark shadows. ‘How is your mother?’ he asked quietly.

Victoria was surprised by his unexpected gentleness and relieved to hear civility in his tone. ‘Very ill,’ she replied, relieved that his anger from their last encounter seemed to have dissipated. ‘She doesn’t cough as much and she sleeps a great deal. I—I don’t think it will be long.’

He nodded, his expression sombre. She was upset, he could see that, and he was determined to treat her with the extra care and gentleness her situation called for. What she needed right now was all the solid strength that he could give her, not the shocking revelation of what would inevitably come later.

‘I’m saddened to hear it. I am not completely heartless, Miss Lewis. I am not totally insensitive to your situation.’

‘I do know that.’

His gaze swept over the garden. ‘I was working in my study when I saw you come out into the garden. It’s a shame to think of anything being conducted within doors on such a day as this.’

‘So you thought you would come out into the garden.’

‘Something like that. I wanted to apologise to you for the other day. You were upset—’

‘Upset and angry—and still awaiting answers to my questions,’ she interrupted, wanting to appear haughty and coldly remote—anything but miserable, for that was tantamount to weak and helpless.

Laurence glanced away to avoid the puzzlement and scrutiny in those wide eyes, finding it increasingly difficult to maintain the subterfuge and silence Nathan had imposed on him. ‘After overhearing my brother’s words you had every right to be angry. But I have done nothing to justify your anger. I merely wanted to make sure your mother was cared for.’ He looked at her levelly. ‘For this, do you honestly think I deserve your bitterness and animosity?’

Victoria’s shoulders drooped. She swallowed and looked away. She felt confused and miserable, no longer entirely right, yet not completely wrong, either. ‘I—I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what you deserve.’

To her surprise, the blue eyes watching her showed no sign that he had taken offence. Instead, Lord Rockford’s long lips curved. ‘Whatever it is, save it for my brother.’

‘He was very angry. However, I do apologise for accusing you of interfering when you brought my mother here. I may not show it, but I am indeed grateful—and I assure you, Lord Rockford, that it is not my intention to disrupt your household.’

Those candid eyes lifted to his—searching, delving, expressing her gratitude—only made Laurence feel more than ever like a disgusting fraud. He paused, then, his smile deepening, he said, ‘Thank you. I respect your frankness. I hope the servants are looking after you.’

Victoria, her gaze locked in the blue of his, felt a tingling sensation run over her skin. She blinked, then frowned. ‘How thoughtful of you to ask. Yes—thank you,’ she replied. ‘Everyone is being very kind.’

‘And you like the house?’

‘Very much—but then, who would not?’ she said, warm in her admiration. She lowered her eyes. An odd sensation, a ripple of awareness slid over her nerves, leaving them sensitised. It was most peculiar. She would have put it down to the touch of the breeze, but it wasn’t that cold.

Beside her, Laurence raised his brows, his predator’s smile in evidence. Her dress was hardly fashionable, but it hugged her contours, emphasising their softness, leaving him with an urgent longing to fill his arms with their warmth.

‘Are—are you and your brother close?’ she dared to ask. Looking up, he trapped her gaze.

‘As close as brothers can be. Until he married Diana Ellingham and bought the Grange halfway between here and Cranbeck, he ran the estate in my absence.’

Victoria hesitated, searching his eyes. ‘And now you’re back you can do that yourself.’

‘For now. My business is in London, which is where I’m often to be found. Either there or on board my ship bound for foreign parts.’

‘It sounds exciting. What is the name of your ship?’

‘I own a fleet, Miss Lewis, but I’m rather fond of The Saracen. It was my first vessel, you see. I’m very proud of it.’

‘Aren’t ships usually named after women?’

‘Not in my fleet.’

‘Why is that?’

‘Because they are more trustworthy.’

She tilted her head to one side. ‘And ladies are not.’

His reply was a world-weary crooked smile and a shake of his head.

She smiled. ‘I see you’re a cynic, Lord Rockford.’

‘Absolutely, and I’m not about to change. Have you been to London?’