Fourteen
True to Arthur’s word, the party was just as well-attended as the first had been, even on short notice. As Cordelia walked through the manor greeting her guests, it seemed they were all laughing and having a good time. Even the staff was in a good mood, with the hint of a smile appearing on Mrs. Richmond’s face for a fraction of a second.
“Lady Whittemore,” a woman called from a corner of the foyer. She waved Cordelia over with a smile. There was a glass of wine in her hand and it was already half gone. “This is a magnificent party. Thank you for inviting us.”
“You’re quite welcome,” Cordelia said graciously. She had no idea who the woman was but she seemed nice enough.
“It’s rather fun doing something like this spontaneously, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.” The door opened and Birdie came in with the General, wearing a bright red dress that lit up the room and her usual grin on her face. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said to the lady, who nodded and stepped aside. “Birdie darling, I’m so glad you could make it.” She hugged her sister and looked to the General. “So good to see you again too, General.” He raised an eyebrow at her and she laughed. “Forgive me, Richard.”
“Old habits,” he sighed.
“Delia, that dress is incredible!” Birdie held her at arm’s length and looked her up and down. “It’s absolutely gorgeous. Is it French? It must be French.”
“I’m not sure,” Cordelia said. “The box said Ellery of London.”
“The box?” Birdie frowned as Cordelia led her and the General into the house to put away their coats. “What do you mean? You didn’t order it yourself?”
“No, it was sent to me anonymously,” Cordelia said, deciding a little fib between sisters was nothing to be ashamed of. There was a little knot of people near the door and Cordelia stepped aside so a young man could move past her.
“Excuse me,” he muttered without looking at her. He seemed to be in quite a hurry.
“Yes, of course.” Cordelia considered asking if he was leaving already but the majority of her attention was on Birdie and her compliments. “No card, nothing. It was simply delivered to the house a few days ago and I can’t say I’m upset about it.”
“I wouldn’t be either,” Birdie said. One of the housemen came forward to take her coat, which she shrugged off and handed to him, revealing a vibrant purple dress with a deep neck and an elegant sash. “You should have Arthur commission a painting of you in it. You look like royalty.”
“Where is Arthur? I want to speak to him about the work he’s having done on his stables,” the General said. Cordelia smiled up at him as he took off his coat.
“I’m not sure,” she said. “Probably talking business with one of the other guests. I’m sure if you walk around you’ll find him.” She pretended to think about it. “Perhaps try his study? He sometimes has brandy and cigars with the gentlemen there.”
“I’ll talk with him later,” the General said. “For now the main question on my mind is when we’re going to hear more of your magnificent piano playing? I do hope we haven’t missed it.” Cordelia laughed and shook her head.
“Of course not. I could never start playing without my darling sister. Birdie would never forgive me if I did.” She reached over and took her sister’s hand as if they were children. Birdie grinned and squeezed her hand tightly. “Now that you’re here I can start gathering the guests in the conservatory in a bit,” Cordelia said as they walked down the hall. “What do you think of grandmother’s necklace?”
“It looks perfect with your dress,” Birdie said. “It’s almost like they were made to go together. Whoever sent it to you must have some sort of intuition. Perhaps they know that blue is your color.” Behind them the door opened again and Cordelia looked over her shoulder. Her heart stopped when she saw Victor come in and she released Birdie’s hand.
“If you’ll excuse me, Birdie dear, I need to say hello to my guests.”
“Of course. I’ll meet you in the conservatory.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Cordelia said with a smile. “Since Arthur doesn’t seem to be around, could you and Richard start moving guests toward the conservatory? The string quartet is scheduled to begin in the ballroom after my performance, the same as last time .” Birdie nodded and took her husband’s arm while Cordelia went to the door to see Victor.
“Good evening, Lady Whittemore,” he said, inclining his head politely. “You look quite beautiful this evening.”
“Thank you, Mr. Pembroke.” She looked around to see if anyone was listening, then lowered her voice for good measure. “I don’t know how to thank you. This dress is beautiful but far too extravagant. You really shouldn’t have.”
“It didn’t look nearly as good in the shop as it does on you,” Victor said. “It’s as if you complete the dress.” His words made Cordelia blush deeply and he smiled. “Thank you for inviting me tonight, I’m looking forward to hearing you play again.”
“I hope I live up to your expectations,” Cordelia said, motioning to the house. “Please come in. My sister Birdie is gathering people into the conservatory for my performance. I’m a bit nervous, to be honest. Monsieur DuVerne is here and I hope he won’t judge me too harshly.”
“I highly doubt that,” Victor said. “He seems like a nice young man.”
“Whom you really shouldn’t have paid on my behalf,” Cordelia said quietly. “My goodness, Mr. Pembroke, if anyone found out about the lessons and the dress---“
“No one will find out unless you tell them,” Victor said with a sly smile. He looked around the hallway and, finding it empty, reached out to brush Cordelia’s lips with his thumb. “Besides, it’s more exciting when it’s a secret isn’t it?” Just this hint of contact was enough to set Cordelia on fire and she wanted him to keep touching her, but he nodded toward the hall that led to the conservatory instead. “Your audience awaits, madame.”
When she stepped into the conservatory, Cordelia was surprised to see that it was even fuller than it had been at the previous party. It seemed that everyone who had attended then was there now, and more besides. Maurice was there and the members of the string quartet were there as well, but Arthur was nowhere in sight. Deciding she didn’t care one way or the other if he showed his face, she went to her piano and faced the room.
“Thank you for coming tonight,” she said. “I’m not certain where my husband is but I’m sure he’ll join us momentarily. I’m going to go ahead and start so as not to hold up our very lovely performers, and I hope you enjoy these pieces I’m about to play.” There was a round of polite applause and Cordelia sat down on the piano bench.
Where is Arthur, anyway? She couldn’t help being a little annoyed. He was the one concerned about keeping up appearances for the time being, and as much as she liked being able to focus on Victor’s attention she could only imagine what people were thinking. Cordelia shoved this out of her mind as she put her fingers on the keys and began to play.
Just as it had been every other time she played the piano, all her worries vanished in an instant. There was nothing in her mind but the music, and this time it was a lively piece that spoke of joy. Her fingers raced over the keys, painting the notes out of thin air and though she wasn’t looking at them she could feel every eye in the room on her. She thought about Maurice and how he was going to teach her to write down her own pieces, the music she felt bubbling up inside her, and her playing became faster and brighter. It was as if she was fanning a flame and couldn’t think of anything she would like more than for it to light the entire room so everyone could feel and see what she felt.
When she finished, the applause that followed was the exact opposite of polite. It was loud, uncontrolled, and just as joyous as she felt. Someone shouted “bravo!” and Cordelia realized that she was breathing hard. She stood up from the piano and bowed, a little embarrassed but satisfied. She looked toward the bookshelves where Birdie, the General, and Victor were all standing, and was pleased to see that Birdie’s face was shining with pride. Victor was grinning twice as widely as her sister, and she realized that it had been he who had shouted.
“Thank you,” she said to the room in general as her eyes met Victor’s. “You’re all too kind. Thank you for indulging me and I do hope you enjoy the rest of your evening. There will be dancing in the ballroom in just a few minutes, and please help yourself to refreshments and drinks.” There was another, smaller round of applause and she bowed again before everyone started to move around the room. Maurice came over to her immediately.
“Madame, you are even more talented than I first thought,” he said. “At first I was confused because I did not recognize the piece you were playing but when I realized you were improvising on a baroque piece I was very impressed.”
“Was I?” Cordelia blinked at him. “I honestly had no idea. I just played what was in my head.”
“It was a magnificent performance,” Victor said from just behind her and Cordelia turned in surprise. “I can scarcely believe you’re the same woman I heard playing so tentatively the first time I visited.”
“My goodness, gentlemen, you’re going to give me quite the ego,” Cordelia laughed. “I’m just happy to be able to play. Monsieur DuVerne, thank you so much for coming.”
“Of course, madame, of course. Now if you do not mind, I am going to the ballroom to hear this string quartet. Perhaps there will be a lady who would want to dance with me.” Just as he said this, Patricia came back into the room. She was dressed very differently than she had been at the first party, wearing a pretty pink and white dress rather than a maid’s uniform. Her position as a lady’s maid gave her slightly higher status and the luxury of her choice of clothing for the night, putting her almost on Mrs. Richmond’s level. Cordelia knew that it was giving the old woman fits but at that moment she didn’t much care. As far as she was concerned, Patricia was a guest and she dared anyone to say differently.
“Lady Whittemore, I wasn’t able to---“
“Patricia, you’re just in time.” Cordelia motioned for her to come over. When Patricia saw Victor, her face turned red and she looked away quickly. “I know you’ve heard me talk about Monsieur DuVerne. He’s looking for a dance partner.”
“Oh, I don’t think that would be proper,” Patricia said. Cordelia shook her head and folded her arms over her chest in a perfect imitation of Mrs. Richmond. She couldn’t help but think that Birdie would be proud.
“Nonsense,” Cordelia said. “I’m the lady of the house and I have nothing for you to do at the moment, so it won’t hurt a single thing for you to dance with this gentleman. If anyone has a problem with it, they can take it up with me.”
“It seems Madame has spoken,” Maurice said, offering Patricia his arm. “Shall we dance, mademoiselle?” She looked at Cordelia, eyes wide, then nodded and slipped her arm through his. With a smile, Maurice led her out of the room and Cordelia was alone with Victor.
“I hope she’ll be all right,” Cordelia said. “Mrs. Richmond will probably lecture me for days about it but I couldn’t think of another way to keep her from following me around all evening.” Victor laughed.
“Mrs. Richmond?”
“She was my sister’s and my governess when we were girls, and when I married Arthur she came with me as my lady’s assistant.” She sighed. “I just can’t seem to escape her.”
“Why you and not your sister?”
“Birdie married the General before I married Arthur,” Cordelia explained. “Unlike my husband, the General fell in love with Birdie when they met at a party.” She pressed a hand to her face. “I really have to get used to calling him Richard.”
“So yours was an arranged marriage,” Victor said. “I see.”
“I was supposed to be married first, of course, but Birdie met Richard while Father was still talking to the late Lord Whittemore. They had a whirlwind courtship, very romantic, and were married before Arthur’s father and mine even came to terms. Since I was the last to leave home, I got saddled with Mrs. Richmond.” Cordelia sighed. “I keep gently nudging her toward retiring but she refuses. I honestly think she’ll be around forever.”
“I’m glad she’s not around right now,” Victor said, stepping closer. “That dress is almost as if it was made for you, Lady Whittemore.”
“Please,” Cordelia said, gathering all the courage that was inside her, “when we’re alone together, call me Cordelia.” Victor smiled at her, a very different one than his usual grin, and reached up to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. His finger brushed against her cheek and raised gooseflesh on her skin.
“All right, Cordelia,” he said. “Now, what should we do now that we’re alone together?” She didn’t dare tell him what she really wanted, but Victor closed what distance remained between them and put a hand under her chin. “If you don’t have any ideas, I certainly do.”
“Mr. Pembroke---“
“So formal,” he said, then kissed her. This time Cordelia put her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Victor pulled her close and their bodies pressed together. Cordelia could feel every inch of him through the thin fabric of the dress he’d bought her and it excited her in a way she’d never known.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she said when he released her. Victor smirked.
“Not here, certainly.” He reached down and grabbed a handful of the beads that dangled from the dress’ bodice. They slipped through his fingers and he grinned. “And this dress was far too expensive to ruin up against a wall.” His words made Cordelia’s face burn, but she had grown to like them and they made her feel bold. Unlike Arthur, he said exactly what he was thinking. “Is there somewhere more private we could go?”
“How private?” She looked up at him and he raised an eyebrow. There was no need for him to answer, and though everything she’d ever been taught about propriety was telling her to walk away from him, Cordelia nodded toward the door. She was tired of being the mature, proper one in the family. At least for tonight she only wanted to listen to her heart. “Follow me.”
Judging from the music and laughter coming through the ballroom, nearly everyone was enjoying the string quartet and the refreshments. No one was near the stairs and Cordelia led Victor toward them, turning back only to make sure he was following. Victor was right behind her and she pressed a finger to her lips as she led him upstairs.
Once they were in her bedroom, Cordelia locked the door. The only person who had a key was the houseman, and even he would knock before using it. Victor watched her do it with amusement.
“Are you expecting someone to join us?”
“I’m just being careful,” Cordelia said. Victor smiled at her and grabbed her waist to pull her to him. “I’m not like you, I don’t do this all the time.”
“That’s a shame. But I’ve never done it before in a Lady’s bedroom while her guests dance and drink her brandy.” Warmth radiated off his body and Cordelia tilted her face up to his in the hopes he would kiss her again. “For you, I’ll make an exception.” He pulled her even closer and this time she could feel that he was hard against her thigh. The thought that she had made him that way sent heat spreading between her legs and she reached up to brush his hair away from his forehead.
“Will you make love to me, Mr. Pembroke?”
“Victor, please,” he said, then leaned down to press his lips to hers. The dress he’d bought her left her entire neck and some of her chest exposed, so he was able to brush his lips from behind her ear to the hollow of her throat and Cordelia inhaled slowly, taking in his scent as he kissed her.
He backed her up against the bed and she sat down abruptly as her knees buckled, then lay back. Victor put a knee on the mattress and leaned over her kissing her again and again, his tongue slipping into her mouth in brief exploration as he cupped one breast through her gown. She wanted to feel his touch on her bare skin, and when he stood up to take off his jacket she did as well and turned her back to face him.
“Unbutton me?”
“With pleasure.” Victor undid her dress one button at a time, kissing her back each time until her dress fell off her hips and pooled on the floor. Each press of his lips inflamed her more and she couldn’t stifle a soft moan. While he undressed, Cordelia took off her underthings and lay back on the bed. This time when Victor climbed on top of her there was nothing between them and she put her arms around his neck. When she’d tried in vain to have Arthur do this it had been awkward from the beginning but Victor knew exactly what to do. He opened Cordelia’s legs and slid inside her, and the sensation of fullness made her lift her hips so he could go deeper, inhaling sharply at the brief pain. Victor stopped and looked down at her. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”
“No,” she said. “But please don’t stop.”
“As you wish, my darling.” He ran his thumb over her nipple and she shuddered. It was obvious he knew every way to please a woman and she was hungry to find out more. He stayed inside her and leaned down to put his mouth over her hard nipple and she gave a small cry of pleasure.
“Please,” she said. “Don’t tease me, Victor.”
“A little teasing never hurt anyone,” he said, but moved on to kissing her neck and pushed his hips forward again.
As Victor made love to her, Cordelia couldn’t stop thinking about how different it was from Arthur’s clumsy attempts. He wasn’t trying to get this over with as soon as possible, he was taking the time to make sure she felt every inch of him, every stroke, and it excited her more. She wrapped her legs around him to keep him inside her, even after his climax, and his groan of pleasure sent ripples through her own body until he rolled off her and pulled her into his arms.
“That was wonderful,” Cordelia said breathlessly. “I had no idea it could be like that.”
“It should be like that every time,” Victor said. “If I have my way it shall be.” He put a hand under his chin and kissed her gently. “As soon as Arthur divorces you, I want you to be mine.” Cordelia’s eyes widened. “You seem surprised, my dear.”
“I am,” she admitted. “I expected this to be like your other women.”
“You’re different,” he said. “I knew that the moment I saw you. I haven’t been able to get you off my mind. When Arthur said he wanted to divorce you I could hardly believe it. I was certain there must be something wrong with you. You have no idea how glad I was that the problem lay with him instead.”
“We should get back to the party,” Cordelia said reluctantly. She sat up and slid off the bed, hardly able to believe what Victor was saying. Suddenly she didn’t care about what Arthur could or could not do for her after the divorce. All she cared about was being with Victor.
“You’re right,” he said. “They’ll be missing their hostess, especially with the host keeping to himself.” He stood up and picked up his pants. “Where is Arthur anyway?”
“I have no idea,” Cordelia said with a sigh. “To tell you the truth, I’m quite pleased by it.”
“Me too.”
They dressed quickly, Victor doing up her dress with surprising skill, and she gave him one last kiss as she unlocked the door.
“You go first,” she said. “If anyone asks, you were looking for the water closet.” Victor nodded and looked both ways before he left the room, leaving Cordelia alone to look at her bed. They hadn’t pulled back the covers but the duvet was a mess, and she tugged on it so that it was straight in case Mrs. Richmond or the housemaid came in. Once she was sure Victor was back downstairs she left her bedroom and followed. She was just stepping off the last stair when Patricia hurried up to her, looking rather more flustered than she had before.
“There you are, ma’am! I’ve been looking all over the house for you.”
“I was a bit too vigorous with my dancing,” Cordelia lied. “I had to go upstairs and fix my hair a bit. It’s an absolute mess and I wasn’t able to put it right on my own. I shall need your help for sure. What’s the matter?”
“I’m really quite worried,” Patricia said, biting her lip. “No one has seen Lord Whittemore all night, not since the beginning of the party. I’ve tried my best to look for him without letting anyone know what I was doing but I can’t find him either and people are starting to leave. Mrs. Richmond said that one of you really should be seeing them off.”
“Have you looked everywhere?” The last thing Cordelia wanted to think about at that moment was her husband but Patricia didn’t show any signs of giving up.
“Everywhere but his bedroom,” she said, lowering her voice. “I was honestly a little afraid to knock. Do you think he’s in there with someone? During the party?” Patricia looked scandalized and Cordelia could hardly imagine what her lady’s maid would say if she knew what had just happened between her mistress and the family solicitor while everyone was downstairs dancing.
“I suppose I’ll accompany you,” Cordelia said unenthusiastically. If Arthur was with a man in his bedroom it would be the third time she’d walked in on him and she wasn’t looking forward to it. Patricia started to walk away and Cordelia grabbed her arm. “Oh no you don’t. If I have to see it, so do you.”
Arthur’s bedroom was at the end of the second floor and Patricia lagged slightly behind her mistress as they went to it. The door was closed, of course, and Cordelia raised her hand to knock on it, steeling herself for whatever she might find. Her knock echoed through the hall and she waited for her husband to answer. When he didn’t, she knocked again.
“Arthur, are you in there? The guests are starting to leave and you need to say goodbye.” Still no answer, and Cordelia’s temper flared. She put her ear against the door and, hearing nothing, grabbed the knob. Patricia put a hand on her arm.
“Should we really just go in?”
“We absolutely should,” Cordelia said. “He’s acting like a child hiding in there and I’m sick of it. I don’t care whose arse I see, I’m going in right now.” Her choice of words widened Patricia’s eyes in shock and she twisted the knob. “Arthur, I’m coming in right now so you and whoever’s in there with you had best be decent.”
The bedroom was dark when the door swung open, and she could see that the sheets on the bed were rumpled and piled oddly. Cordelia frowned. The housemaid should have fixed the bed if the room was empty, even during a party, and she stepped into the room with Patricia on her heels.
As she got closer to the bed, she could see that someone was in it. From the position of the body, Cordelia could tell at once that something wasn’t right. When a hint of moonlight crept around the edge of the curtain, she knew for sure. She spoke to Patricia without turning away, her voice shaking just a little.
“Patricia, go downstairs right away and tell the houseman that we need the police.”
“Ma’am?” Patricia took a step forward, then pressed both hands over her mouth. “My God! Is that Lord Whittemore? Is he dead?”
“We need the police,” Cordelia said again. “Right away.” Patricia nodded and ran for the stairs while Cordelia moved closer to the bed. Arthur was indeed dead, and judging from the blood on his clothes and the sheets it hadn’t been quick. Cordelia felt sick.
Who could have done this?