Anticipation welled up deep inside her and she realized she wasn’t as excited about the forthcoming expedition to the fair as she was anxious about seeing Stonevale again.
It was true, as Annabella had said, Stonevale must be a gentleman or Lady Atherton and Bertie Lyndwood would not count him among their acquaintances. But a woman, especially an heiress, could not depend upon any man’s sense of gentlemanly honor. She had learned that lesson well from her stepfather. Still, Victoria knew she would be safe enough tonight so long as she stayed in control of the situation.
She relaxed, allowing herself a small, assured smile. She’d had a great deal of experience controlling situations that involved men.
Victoria crossed the deep blue carpet to the yellow velvet armchair near the window and settled in it. In a little while it would be safe to leave the house.
Tonight there would be no time to worry about the creeping restlessness that frequently threatened her in the long, dark hours of the night; no time to dwell on that sense of something dangerous left unfinished; no time to fret about bizarre notions such as the possibility of bringing the dead back to life with electricity.
Best of all, it was nearly midnight already. With any luck she would be awake most of the night, so there would be less time for the nerve-shattering dreams that increasingly invaded her nights as of late. She had come to fear those nightmares. A small shiver went through her even now as she pushed the memory of the last one to the farthest corner of her mind. She could still see the knife in his hand.
No, there would be little opportunity for those nightmares to strike tonight. With any luck she would not be home before dawn. She could deal with the daylight hours. It was the darkness she had learned to fear.
Victoria gazed out into the shadowed garden and wondered what Stonevale would think when he saw her dressed as a man.
The cheerful anticipation of his stunned expression was enough to banish the small, tattered remnant of horror that still hovered at the edge of her mind.
Lucas leaned forward on the carriage seat and scowled out into the shadows of the dark street. He was not in a good mood. “I don’t care for this nonsense. Why are we not fetching Miss Huntington from her front steps?”
“I’ve told you,” Annabella Lyndwood protested. “Her aunt is a very understanding person, but Victoria is afraid that even she would have a few doubts about our plans for this evening.”
“I’m glad somebody besides myself has the sense to have doubts,” Lucas growled. He turned toward the other man in the carriage. “Lyndwood, I think we should have a few contingency arrangements made in case we become separated in the crowd this evening.”
“Excellent idea,” Lyndwood agreed with alacrity. He was clearly relieved to have Lucas along. “Perhaps we ought to arrange for the carriage to wait at a specific location somewhat removed from the activity?”
Lucas nodded, thinking swiftly. “It will be difficult to maneuver the carriage near the park. At this time of night the crowds will be large and unpredictable. Tell your coachman that if he does not find us waiting for him at the same place where he sets us down, he should drive two streets over from the grounds and wait there near a small tavern called the Hound’s Tooth.”
Lyndwood nodded, his handsome, concerned features in deep shadow. “I know the place and so does my coachman, I’ll wager. Don’t mind telling you again I appreciate your joining us tonight, Stonevale. When the ladies take a notion to have an adventure, ain’t much a man can do to stop them, is there?”
“That remains to be seen,” Stonevale said.
Annabella, dressed in a stylish blue walking dress with a matching blue pelisse, giggled. “If you believe you can stop Victoria from doing anything she pleases, you have a surprise in store for you, my lord.”
“Miss Huntington gets up to these tricks frequently, I take it?”
Annabella chuckled again. “Victoria is never dull, I assure you, but this is a first for her, I believe. She told me she has been planning this for some time.”
“It would seem Miss Huntington has gone ungoverned by a husband for far too long,” Lucas observed, and glowered at Annabella as the giggles turned into outright laughter. “I have said something amusing?”
“Miss Huntington intends to go the entirety of her life without such governance,” Annabella informed him.
“I understand she fears being married for her fortune,” Lucas said carefully. He wanted information but he did not want to raise too many questions about his motives.
“She fears marriage altogether,” Annabella replied, her laughter fading. “She has seen nothing but very sad examples of the wedded state in her own family. And of course the business of being constantly pursued for her inheritance for so many years has only inclined her more than ever away from any desire for matrimony. Sometimes, I confess I wonder if she isn’t right in her thinking. What good is marriage for a woman?”
“Damme, Bella,” her brother broke in sharply. “What a mutton-headed thing to say. Don’t go taking any foolish notions into your brain about following Miss Huntington’s example in life. Mama would have hysterics. To be perfectly truthful, as charming as Victoria is, if her aunt wasn’t such a good friend of Mama’s, I should think twice about allowing you to go about with her. Only look at the situation I am in tonight because of that woman’s influence on you. The sooner you are married, the better. Thank God, Barton has almost come up to scratch.”
Annabella smiled demurely in the darkness. “I know you cannot wait to rid yourself of the responsibility of supervising my behavior, but I fear you must contain your enthusiasm for a while longer, Bertie. Upon due reflection I have decided to have you refuse Lord Barton’s offer, if and when it comes.”
“Upon due reflection probably means you discussed the matter with Miss Huntington,” Lyndwood said morosely.
“I do recall a conversation on the subject,” Annabella said. “She was kind enough to give me her opinion as to the sort of husband Lord Barton would make.”
Lucas broke in on the fraternal wrangling, his interest sharpened by Annabella’s last remark. “How was Miss Huntington able to form an opinion about Barton?”
“Oh, I believe he pursued her quite industriously for several months last year. During that time she had an opportunity to learn a great deal about him.”
“Did she?” Lucas was aware of the chill in his own words. “Just what did she learn?”
“A number of small items such as the fact that Barton has apparently fathered a babe or two on his mistress, that he has been known to get so deeply into his cups that he has had to be carried into his house by his coachman, and that he has a passion for gaming hells,” Annabella answered.
“Here now,” Lyndwood muttered, “can’t hold a few insignificant peccadilloes against a man.”
“Really?” inquired a familiar, husky female voice from the open window of the carriage. “Would Viscount Barton be equally prepared to overlook a similar list of insignificant peccadilloes in his prospective wife?”
Lucas turned his head sharply toward the carriage window, aware that the mere sound of Victoria’s voice had immediately reactivated the desire he had first experienced in Jessica Atherton’s card room. He concealed his eagerness with the cold control he had learned years ago, prepared to greet his heiress with proper formality.
But instead of a striking woman in an elegant gown and bonnet, he found himself staring at a figure dressed to the nines in men’s clothes. Laughing eyes met his through the shadows, challenging him.
“Good God,” he said through his teeth, “this is insanity.”
“No, my lord, this is amusing.”
Lucas recovered himself as he heard the groom start to clamber down from the driver’s seat. He shoved open the door before the man could arrive to open it properly, and reached out and caught hold of Victoria’s wrist before she realized his intent. He had been expecting a lady with a taste for some mild adventure, not this outrageous creature.<
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“Get in here, you little baggage, before someone recognizes you.”
His urgency brought Victoria through the door far more quickly than she intended. She gasped as she landed heavily on the seat beside Lucas and grabbed her beaver-trimmed hat to keep it in place. He saw she was clutching an expensive-looking inlaid walking stick in her hand.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said with heavy sarcasm.
Lucas ignored her. “Let’s get out of here, Lyndwood.”
Lyndwood obliged by tapping his stick against the roof of the carriage. “To the park, if you please,” he called out.
Annabella smiled at Victoria as the carriage clattered into motion. “You look very well turned out this evening, Vicky. Do I detect Brummell’s influence in your choice of blue? He is particularly fond of the color, I’m told. But you have always preferred yellow.”
“I decided a yellow coat might be a bit too striking for the occasion,” Victoria conceded.
“So you limited yourself to a yellow waistcoat. I congratulate you on your sense of restraint. And, pray tell, who tied your cravat? I warrant I haven’t seen such a clever design in ages.”
“Like it, do you?” Victoria fingered the carefully arranged neckcloth. “Invented this particular fold myself. Call it the Victoire.”
Annabella gave a peal of laughter. “Vicky, I swear you sound just like one of the dandies on Bond Street. You’ve got the whole tone exactly right. Just the proper sense of affected boredom. I declare you could trod the boards and make your living as an actress.”
“Why, thank you, Bella. That is high praise indeed.”
Lucas lounged back in the seat and surveyed the striking figure beside him with a critical eye. His initial shock was giving way to annoyance and a certain uneasiness that was new to him. It was clear Victoria Huntington was fond of mischief, and this brand of mischief could land her in serious trouble.
“Do you go about like this often, Miss Huntington?” Lucas was aware he had automatically used the tone of voice that in the past he had reserved for young officers under his command who had landed themselves in trouble. He could not help himself. He was irritated.
“This is my first experiment with men’s clothes, sir. But to be truthful, I shall probably be strongly tempted to try it again in the future. I find that the masculine attire affords me far more freedom than I have when I wear women’s clothes,” Victoria admitted.
“It certainly affords you a far greater opportunity for bringing down a wave of humiliation and social disaster on your lovely head, Miss Huntington. If it got out that you have a taste for running around London at night dressed as a man, your reputation would be in shreds within twenty-four hours.”
Victoria wrapped her fingers even more firmly around the handle of her walking stick. “What an odd thing for you to say, sir. Do you know, your attitude quite takes me by surprise. I would have thought you less of a prig. I suppose the card game at the ball misled me. Don’t you have any taste for adventure? No, I suppose you don’t. You are, after all, a good friend of Lady Atherton’s are you not?”
The woman was deliberately baiting him. Lucas wished very strongly that they were alone in the carriage. “I do not know what you are implying, Miss Huntington, but I assure you, Lady Atherton is above reproach.”
“Well, yes, that is just the point. Everyone knows Jessica Atherton would never in a million years allow herself to be found in this carriage on her way to the fair tonight,” Victoria declared.
Annabella giggled again. “That is certainly the truth.”
“Are you implying Lady Atherton is a prig?” Lucas demanded.
Victoria shrugged, the movement surprisingly sensual in the well-cut jacket. “I mean no offense, my lord. Just that she isn’t the sort of female who enjoys adventure. One naturally has to assume that her friends are equally limited in their choice of entertainment and equally disapproving of those who have broader tastes.”
“And you are a woman who enjoys adventure?” Stonevale baited.
“Oh, yes, my lord. I enjoy it very much.”
“Even though it carries with it the risk of ruining yourself in Society?”
“There would be no real adventure if there were no real risk, would there, my lord? I would have thought a successful gamester such as yourself would understand that.”
Her words made him more uneasy than ever. “You may be right, Miss Huntington. But I have always preferred risks in which the odds were at least somewhat in my favor.”
“How very dull your life must be, sir.”
Lucas instinctively started to react to the goading remark but caught himself in time. His self-control reasserted itself, along with his sense of reason. The last thing he could afford now was to have his quarry declare him a priggish bore. His instincts told him Victoria would respond to a challenge or even an all-out battle of wills, but she would ignore him entirely if he managed to bore her.
A priggish bore. Good God. The thought of that label stuck on him was enough to make him laugh. It was certainly not the usual description applied to his character. But around Miss Huntington, Lucas discovered, he was rapidly developing a most uncharacteristic regard for the proprieties. He was still in shock from the sight of her in men’s clothes.
Victoria was no longer paying any attention to him, however. She was smiling at Annabella. “So you decided to turn down Barton’s offer, did you? I am happy to hear it. The man would have made you a perfectly horrid husband.”
“I am convinced you are right,” Annabella shuddered delicately. “I might have been able to overlook Barton’s interest in hazard but just imagine marrying a man who has actually fathered two bastards on some poor woman to whom he will not give his name.”
“It certainly casts a nasty reflection on his honor,” Victoria agreed grimly.
Lucas studied her profile in the dim light. “Just how did you come to discover the business of Barton’s illegitimate offspring? I cannot believe that gossip reached your ears on the dance floor of a hostess such as Lady Atherton.”
“No, it did not, as a matter of fact. I hired a runner to discover what he could about Barton and he was the one who turned up the news of the two children and the mistress.”
Lucas felt a chill clutch his insides. “You hired a Bow Street runner?”
“I thought it the most efficient approach to the problem.”
“It was a brilliant approach,” Annabella declared.
Lyndwood groaned. “Good Lord, if Mama only knew. Poor Barton. D’ya know, I think he rather cared for you, Bella.”
“I doubt that,” Victoria said briskly. “His family has told him they expect him to marry and he is simply in the process of casting about for a wife who will suit his father. He tried me last year until I managed to make him see I would not do at all and then he moved on to try his luck with the Perfect Miss Pilkington. Evidently she, too, had the good sense to see that he was the lowest sort of fortune hunter. Then he spotted Bella, here, and decided to have a go at her. Nothing more to it than that.”
“The Perfect Miss Pilkington?” Lucas glanced from one woman to the other. “Why do you call Miss Pilkington perfect?”
“Because she is,” Annabella explained reasonably. “Never puts a foot wrong. A model of feminine perfection. A paragon, in fact.”
“You will understand about Miss Pilkington, my lord,” Victoria said, “when we tell you that she is a protégée of Lady Atherton’s.”
“I see.” No wonder Jessica had wanted to introduce him to the other heiress. It was a good bet that if he had decided to pursue Miss Pilkington, he would not now be sitting in a carriage with a young lady dressed outrageously in masculine attire. Lucas wondered for half a second if he had made a serious mistake earlier in the evening. And then he decided that whatever the risks, the night was going to be infinitely more interesting with Miss Huntington.
“I thought you would, my lord,” Victoria said.
“Well, one thing is certain,??
? Lucas pointed out dryly, “because of your interference, Miss Lyndwood will never have a chance to find out precisely how Barton does feel about her, will she? And Barton, himself, will never know he was done in by a paid runner and a certain Miss Huntington. The man will never even have a chance to defend himself.”
“Could he defend himself?” Victoria retorted, her eyes clashing with his in the shadows. This time there was no mischief or humor in her steady, challenging gaze. “Are you saying that what the runner discovered was untrue?”
Lucas held his ground, speaking evenly. “I am saying that it was none of your business to interfere in the matter. There might very well be mitigating circumstances.”
“Hah. I doubt that very much,” Victoria said.
“So do I,” chimed in Annabella. “Just imagine that poor woman tucked away with Barton’s children.”
Lyndwood bestirred himself on the other side of the coach. “Neither of you two ladies ought to know a deuced thing about any of Barton’s offspring who happen to have been born on the wrong side of the blanket. T’ain’t right for you even to be discussing such matters, is it, Stonevale?”
“Such conversation is certainly not the mark of well-bred ladies of the ton,” Lucas muttered, grimly aware he sounded exactly like the boring prig Victoria had insinuated he was.
Victoria’s smile was triumphant. “Lord Stonevale, allow me to point out that if you find my conversation too offensive for your delicate sensibilities, there is an easy remedy for you. Simply open the carriage door and depart.”
Lucas realized in that moment that Victoria Huntington had the power to slice through his iron-willed self-control as no one else had been able to do in years. Furthermore, she accomplished the trick quite effortlessly. This lady was dangerous. He was going to have to work hard at staying in command of the situation.
Lucas cleared his throat. “My sensibilities will survive your indelicate manners, Miss Huntington. And I could not possibly exit now. My honor still requires that I pay my gaming debts.”
“Hah. This is no honorable gaming debt, sir. This is blackmail, pure and simple.”