***
When a knock came at Victoria’s door later on that afternoon, she knew exactly who it was. “Come in, Thomas,” she called, and her brother poked his head around the door.
“Is my knock so distinct?” he asked with a smile upon his face.
Victoria went to him and wrapped her arms about his neck. Thomas lifted her off the ground in a tight squeeze before putting her feet back on the floor again.
“Goodness, your skin is so dark!” She studied her brother closely. “You’ve practically baked yourself, Tom.”
“It’s hard to avoid the sun in the Caribbean, Vic. It blares for more than twelve hours a day most days. And it’s hot—much hotter than our sun here in England.”
“Well, that’s impossible, isn’t it?” Victoria asked, wondering how the same sun could be different just because it was in another part of the world.
“Not at all.” Tom studied her for a moment and Victoria felt as if she were an animal on display at the menagerie. “You look well, little sister.”
“As well as well can be,” she replied. “Living here without you has not been terribly easy.”
“I’m sure Mother is thrilled you’re still unwed.”
“Please!” Victoria held up a hand to her brother. “Do not start with that. It’s bad enough that Mother hounds me about it in her condescending ways—”
“She only wants to see you settled.”
“Settled!” Victoria knew better. Her mother couldn’t care less about her happiness, only about what connections her daughter might buy them with an advantageous marriage. “I supposed you’ve been charged with looking after me from now on?”
Tom rolled his eyes and picked up the powder puff that sat on her vanity. He gave it a grimace and then replaced it in the powder. “It’s impossible to look after you, Vic.”
“Thank you.”
“That wasn’t necessarily a compliment.”
“Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to take it as one anyhow.”
Tom gave her a wide smile. “I’ve missed you, little sister.”
This was a bit of a surprise to Victoria. Though they’d always gotten along, she and her brother had never been exceedingly close. But perhaps things were changing now that they were older, now that they’d been apart so long. Victoria was certainly beginning to truly understand the importance of family; maybe Tom was, too.
“I went to see Fin earlier today,” he said, taking a seat on the edge of her bed.
“You went to see Fin before you came to see me?”
“Mother’s orders.”
Victoria looked at him, stunned. “Please say you’re joking.”
“You know Mother. She always wants to be the first to deliver good news.”
They both shared a chuckle over this, for they knew it wasn’t at all true.
“What did she say to you?” Tom wondered.
“That we must make the most of your return.” Victoria gave him a mocking smile. “Since Lord Leyburn is unsuitable as a chaperone—being handsome and eligible himself—Mother is very much looking forward to you being my guardian again at social events. I daresay she’s given you my social calendar already.”
Tom flopped backwards onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m glad my return was met with such . . . enthusiasm.”
“Did you expect any differently?” Victoria took the opportunity, while her brother wasn’t looking, to tidy up anything that might pique his interest and cause him to ask questions she didn’t care to answer. She’d really have to be more diligent now that he was home again.
“No, I suppose not,” he answered with a sigh. “But at least you are genuinely happy to see me. Aren’t you?”
Her brother’s tone gave her pause. He had always been quite self-assured, but he didn’t seem that way now. He actually seemed rather sad that he’d not had a more enthusiastic reaction from Mother and Father. But really, what did he expect from them? They had always been cold and distant—no amount of time would change that.
“Of course I am, Tom. Why would you think otherwise?”
Tom sat up again and smiled at his sister. “Though it would be nice if Mother and Father would change for the better, I’m glad to see you haven’t changed a bit.”
“And I promise I never will,” she replied, smiling back at her brother. “Now, get out. I have to prepare for this evening.
Four
Though Fin was no longer needed in Victoria’s life, he still couldn’t escape her. Now that Tom was back, he wanted to learn more about his travels to Jamaica, and of course, wherever Tom was, there Victoria would be. Lady Grantham would make sure of it. Of that, Fin was most certain.
But nothing could have prepared him for the shock he received when Victoria arrived at the dinner party that evening. He stood in the far corner, nursing a brandy alone, when she walked in, clad head-to-toe in white. White! He hadn’t seen Vickie in white since her come-out years ago. He would have thought it was positively ridiculous, her wearing white, except that she looked . . . well, almost pretty.
Oh, who was he trying to fool? She looked like a damned angel. Her chestnut hair was swept into a loose coif atop her head, and tendrils dangled about her face in a most ethereal and, dare he say, erotic manner.
Damnit, what the devil was wrong with him? This was Victoria—Vickie!—she was practically his sister. It felt rather perverted to think of her in such a way, yet at the same time he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
“What are you doing over here all alone, Finny?”
Fin had turned away and taken a sip of his drink, so it came as quite a surprise to realize Vickie and Tom had made their way to his side already. He sputtered on his drink for a moment and Tom smacked him on the back.
“All right there, old man?” Tom teased.
“You ought not to sneak up on a person like that,” he said, once he’d regained his ability to speak. “I nearly choked.”
Victoria’s lips pressed together as she tried to hide her mirth.
“Since you think it’s so funny, I’ll have to find a way to give you a taste of your own medicine one of these days.” His scolding had no effect on Victoria.
“You may try,” she replied airily as she scanned the room.
“What the devil are you wearing, by the way?” he said, changing the subject.
Victoria turned her large, green eyes on him and cocked her head sideways. “What? You don’t like it?”
“Do you?”
“Not at all.” She let down her guard a bit and huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest. “But you know Mother . . .”
He did. Which meant Victoria had been given no choice in the matter.
“Well, Tom, how does it feel to be back in the fold?” He turned to his friend who now sipped lazily of his own brandy.
“Damned freezing is how it feels. I never thought I’d long for the heat of Jamaica.”
“Keep drinking and you’ll feel it soon,” Fin encouraged.
“Perhaps you should go somewhere more temperate next time, Tom,” Vickie suggested. “Maybe I’ll go with you.”
Both Fin and Tom erupted into laughter. Victoria punched her fists to her hips, clearly not amused. But really, the thought of her traipsing after her brother . . .
Well, it would probably be the other way around, wouldn’t it? Victoria would certainly put her poor, lazy brother through his paces in a foreign country. It was a sight Fin would gladly pay good money to see.
“Oh, good Lord, is there a good place to hide nearby?”
Fin followed Tom’s line of vision until it landed on the last person he cared to see.
“Why, Lady Beecham!” Victoria welcomed the woman with a wide smile. A smile she only reserved for people she truly despised. “How wonderful to see you. Is Lord Beecham here with you this evening?”
“Oh, dear,” replied the woman in a dripping, melancholic tone, “I’m afraid my poor husband has taken ill.”
> “I do hope it’s nothing serious!” Victoria’s brow furrowed with feigned concern. Everyone knew Lady Beecham would be thrilled if her husband suddenly dropped dead. She’d maintain the name and finally be free to have affairs openly rather than in secret. As if her affairs were a secret to begin with.
“We just can’t know yet, but thank you for thinking of us, dear Victoria. A treasure you are.”
This time, both Tom and Fin choked on their brandy. Victoria shot them a warning look, but it was impossible to hide their mirth.
It took only a moment for Lady Beecham to regain her faculties. “And I see your dear brother has returned at last. Tom, I do hope you’ll make time this week to tell me all about your travels.”
Tom did his best to remain polite, though any bystander could see that meeting with Lady Beecham was the last thing he cared to do. “Of course, my lady. It would be my pleasure.”
Finally she turned to Fin and, with a seductive bat of her eyelashes, said simply, “Lord Leyburn.”
Fin’s mouth dropped open. Lady Beecham was trying to make him jealous. How very amusing. But of course, the joke would be on her.