Six
Now that she’d seen what the manor was like when it was full of people, Cordelia couldn’t help thinking that this was the way it was meant to be. She stood at the door with Arthur in the beginning, greeting each guest as they walked through with a smile and thanking them for coming. Each face she saw took away a sliver of her hope, though, because she hadn’t seen Victor yet.
She hadn’t been able to ask Arthur if he’d gotten an RSVP from Victor, and she hadn’t seen his name on the confirmed guest list so she had no idea if he was actually coming or not. The thought that he would say he wanted to hear more of her playing then not come to the party was more than a little disheartening, but she tried her best to act like it wasn’t bothering her.
“Delia, this is wonderful,” Birdie said, hurrying over to see her sister as she stood by the window in the conservatory. It overlooked the courtyard so she could see who was coming and going, and there was still enough light out to see anyone who might be coming up the front path. She tore her gaze away from the window and turned to her younger sister with a smile. “The house is just beautiful. Wherever did you find all these flowers?”
“I don’t know, to be honest,” Cordelia said, looking around. There were flowers on just about every surface in the house, but the conservatory was by far the most spectacular-looking room. There were vases everywhere, exploding with color and filling the air with a fresh scent that put her at ease. “I told Mrs. Richmond what I wanted and she put in an order with a florist. They can find just about anything at this time of year, I suppose.” She glanced out the window again and Birdie did the same.
“What’s outside?”
“Oh, nothing,” Cordelia said hurriedly, stepping away from the window. “I was just seeing if anyone else was coming. I wanted to make sure everyone was here before I started playing.”
“The soul of a true performer,” Birdie teased. “You were this way when we were girls too. You always got so excited when you got ready to play, even if it was just for Mother and Father.”
“So this is where they’re hiding the most beautiful ladies in the house,” said a white-haired man who had followed Birdie across the room. Cordelia had seen General Richard Ellison several times since he and Birdie were married and he was quite handsome for an older man. His hair was neatly trimmed, as was his mustache, and he gave the appearance of someone you didn’t want to get on the bad side of. Every time she’d spoken to him, however, he had been quite pleasant and jovial. “Good evening, Lady Whittemore.”
“Oh good heavens,” Cordelia said with a laugh. “You’ve been my brother-in-law for months now, General. It’s high time you stopped being silly and started calling me by my first name.”
“Only if you agree to stop calling me General,” he said, tipping her a wink. He put a hand on Birdie’s waist and she smiled up at him as if he was her entire world, making Cordelia’s heart twist with envy. “Birdie, my dear, would you accompany me to the sitting room for a moment? There’s someone I wish for you to meet.”
“All right,” she said with a quick look at Cordelia. “I’ll be back in a moment. Don’t start playing without me!”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” She watched Birdie and Richard walk away together, her arm linked through his, and she sighed to herself. He really did care for her, and she had to admit it made her more than a little jealous to hear him call her by the name Cordelia had come up with when they were children. She supposed it was all part of being married, at least for most people.
“Are you about ready to start playing?” Arthur came up behind Cordelia and put a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to look at him. He was just as handsome as Richard, possibly even more so with his dark blonde hair and blue eyes, but the difference between them was deeper than just their hair colors.
“Not quite. My sister went to meet someone on the General’s behalf and made me promise I wouldn’t start without her.”
“Of course we can’t start without darling Bridget,” Arthur said with a laugh. “She’s the one we have to thank for you rediscovering your talent like this.” He leaned forward and gave his wife a peck on the cheek. Conscious that people were watching, Cordelia smiled as if it were the joy of her life. “Would you like a glass of champagne while you wait?”
“That would be lovely,” Cordelia said, thinking she could use a couple of drinks to get through this night. “Thank you, Arthur.”
“I’ll bring it to you myself,” Arthur said. He went to the door of the conservatory with the intention of going to get a glass of champagne, only to stop suddenly and say hello to someone just outside the door. Cordelia was only mildly curious as to who it was until Arthur turned back and pointed to her. She wondered what on earth he was doing until a man came through the door that stopped her heart.
“Good evening, Lady Whittemore,” Victor said as he crossed the room to see her. “I hope you’re well this evening.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it again, the same way he had when they had last met. It must have looked strange to a roomful of people but Cordelia was so happy to have his lips on her skin, even for a moment, that she could have cared less.
“Very well, sir,” she said. Now that you’re here, anyhow. “And yourself?”
“Much better now that I’ve seen your face,” he said, grinning at her. His eyes caught hers and held them as he let go of her hand. “I hope you’ll forgive my lateness. There was an urgent matter to attend to at the office and I’ve come straight over.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Cordelia said, shaking her head. “Everyone’s been coming and going as they please, it’s all very informal.”
“Informal or not, this is quite the party. Please tell me I haven’t missed your piano playing.”
“Oh no,” she said with a smile. “I haven’t even begun.” Before she knew what she was saying, she blurted out the words. “I was actually waiting for you to get here before I did.”
“Were you now?” Victor’s eyebrow went up. “And to what do I owe such an honor?”
“You were the one who suggested I should perform. I’ve been practicing a few pieces that were quite a bit more difficult than the one you heard me play.” She hoped he understood the implication that she had been practicing them for him, and the way he smiled at her gave her the impression that he did. “I hope you’ll enjoy them.”
“I’ve been looking forward to it since the last time we met.” His eyes moved over her slowly, as if he was drinking her in, and he smiled. “You look absolutely radiant tonight, I might add.”
“Thank you,” Cordelia managed. The way he said it made her blush harder than she had in years. “I would have liked to have a new dress made but I was so wrapped up in my music that time slipped away from me.”
“This one looks lovely on you,” he said. “Blue is really your color.”
“Th-thank you,” Cordelia stammered. She hadn’t had so many compliments in one evening since her wedding day, and the fact that they were coming from Victor made them even better. He seemed to either not know or not care that what he was saying was almost certainly as indiscreet as Arthur’s affairs but Cordelia didn’t care. She wanted him to go on forever. Unfortunately, it was at that moment that she saw Birdie and Richard come back through the Conservatory’s door and she motioned to them. “Well now that you’re here and my sister is back, I suppose I can start.”
“Yes, I should think so.” Victor met her gaze again. “I’m honored that you waited for me.”
“All right, Delia, we’re back,” Birdie said cheerfully as she joined them by the window. She looked at Victor, not bothering to disguise her interest. “Who is this?”
“This is Arthur’s solicitor,” Cordelia said, gesturing to Victor with a smile. She hoped she wasn’t blushing. Birdie had always been able to spot when she was flustered, even as a little girl, and teased her relentlessly about it. “Mr. Victor Pembroke, I’d like you to meet my darling sister Bridget and her husband General Richard Ellison.”
“Good evening,” Victor said pleasantly. He shook the General’s hand, and Cordelia was pleased to see that he took Birdie’s hand but only clasped it for a moment and nodded at her. “I hope you’re both looking forward to Lady Whittemore’s recital this evening as I am. She’s quite the pianist.”
“Oh yes,” Birdie said, still smiling brightly. “She played beautifully when we were children. You’ve heard her play, Mr. Pembroke?”
“Only briefly when I was here on a business with Lord Whittemore. She was playing something that was far too simple for her, and I made sure to tell her so.”
“I’m so jealous,” Birdie said. “I haven’t even gotten to hear her play and I’m her sister.” She stuck out her lower lip in a magnificent version of her childhood pout and Cordelia couldn’t help laughing. “Are you going to play now?”
“Yes, yes, all right!” Cordelia threw up her hands in mock exasperation. “If you’re all going to be on me about it I might as well start, hadn’t I?” She went to the piano in the middle of the room and everyone seemed to grow quiet at the same time. Seeing her in place, Arthur broke away from the conversation he was having and went to her side.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said as if he were announcing a Broadway show, “thank you all for coming this evening. Even though it comes so closely after the death of my beloved father, Lord Whittemore, I’d like to welcome you all to our estate. My beautiful wife Cordelia has agreed to favor us with some music this evening and I’m sure you’re all going to be enchanted with her playing.” He turned to Cordelia. “So if it pleases you, my dear, you may begin.”
“Thank you,” she said, smiling. She wasn’t sure what to say to the partygoers, but her eyes went immediately to Victor and she felt a surge of warmth. Rather than stare at him any further, she cleared her throat and went to the piano.
When she sat down on the bench, a sudden wave of nervousness came over her and she was horrified to see that the hand she was using to open the music book was shaking. She’d played the songs she was about to perform over and over, but at that moment it felt like she’d never even looked at them before. She could feel everyone looking at her and it only made her more nervous. Taking a deep breath, she put her fingers on the keys and began to play, glad she’d had the champagne.
She started off with something a little slow, drawing the melody out of the air with her fingers on the keys as she pulled her audience in, and as she felt the room open up to her the jittery feeling she’d had faded away. This was what they had come to hear and she intended to give it to them. Somehow she knew Victor was watching her too and she hoped he was enjoying himself. She’d played this song often enough that she didn’t need to turn the pages as she played, and before she knew it the song was over and the room was clapping for her.
She looked around the room and saw that her sister was clapping vigorously, as she’d expected, but was more pleased to see that Victor was doing the same. He was grinning and looking at her in a way that she could only describe as proud and she was glad of it. Her practicing had certainly paid off.
The next piece was quite a bit faster and she’d only perfected it the day before so she was a little nervous, but as soon as she started she was enveloped in the music and everything else disappeared. Her polite but loveless marriage, the loneliness that crept up on her whenever she was anywhere but the conservatory, and the jealousy she couldn’t hide when her sister spoke of her family. It was all gone the moment her fingers met the keys and she was happier than she’d been in months.
Cordelia was so lost in her own world that the applause she received when she finished the piece startled her a bit. She stood up from her seat to even louder applause and gave a small bow, surprised to feel how hard her heart was beating. Arthur was immediately by her side again, putting a hand on her waist as if they were the happiest couple in the world.
“Thank you so much,” he said. “Please enjoy the rest of the evening. I’m sure it won’t be nearly as captivating as Cordelia’s performance, but there will be a string quartet in the dining hall if anyone would care to dance.” This created a murmur of interest among the guests and Cordelia looked at him curiously. She hadn’t known he’d hired musicians.
“A string quartet?” Her voice was soft so that no one else would hear it and Arthur shrugged, taking his hand off her waist.
“I thought it would make it feel more like a party. I’ve heard they’re very good, and they came all the way over from Elston. Would you like to go over and listen to it? Perhaps dance with me?”
“All right,” Cordelia said. She didn’t really feel much like dancing with him but she didn’t want to seem rude. For the hostess of the party to decline an invitation to dance by her own husband would be unthinkable, so she took his arm and followed him to the dining hall.
The long dining table with its numerous chairs had been removed earlier that day – Cordelia wasn’t sure where to – and she did remember Arthur saying something about dancing but didn’t recall anything else. She supposed she had been so nervous about playing that everything else had been pushed out of her mind. When they got to the dining hall there was indeed a foursome sitting in the corner of the room, just putting their bows on their strings.
“I thought I’d just make it a night of music,” Arthur said with a smile. “I hope you’re not upset about it.”
“Not at all,” Cordelia said, as the musicians began their first song, a beautiful waltz. A number of people moved to the center of the floor to dance, some with their companions, others selecting partners from the other guests. “It’s wonderful.”
“It is, isn’t it?” He held out a hand to his wife. “Would you dance with me, Lady Whittemore?”
“Of course,” she said. She took his hand and allowed him to lead her to the area near the phonograph where people were starting to dance.
Cordelia had always been an excellent dancer and at her wedding she had been pleased to find that Arthur knew his steps as well. There was nothing she disliked more at a party than to find that her dance partner didn’t know the steps or pushed her around uncomfortably. They moved around the makeshift dance floor gracefully, Cordelia’s royal blue dress breezing around her as Arthur spun her, and she found herself smiling almost as much as when she was playing piano.
“You’re right, they are quite good. Are they scheduled to play the rest of the evening?”
“Of course,” Arthur said. “We wouldn’t want our guests to lose interest and leave too quickly.” The song ended and the guests turned to the quartet and clapped. “I hope you’re having as good of a time as I am,” he said with a smile.
“Pardon me,” a voice said behind them, and both Arthur and Cordelia looked to find Victor standing at her shoulder. “I hope I’m not intruding, Arthur, but would you mind if I had this dance with Lady Whittemore?”
“No, not at all.” He released his wife’s hand and Victor took it, inclining his head slightly at Cordelia. “I’m going to speak to Lord Avery, my dear.”
“Tell him I said I hope he enjoyed the music.” She watched him go, then turned to Victor, who put a hand on her hip in a way that was quite familiar but exceedingly pleasant. “And how about you, Mr. Pembroke? Did you enjoy the music?”
“It was fantastic,” Victor said as the quartet began their next song. “I didn’t know that you’d attempt something as complicated as the second one so early in your career but I’m rather glad you did.”
“My career?” Cordelia couldn’t help laughing. “You flatter me, sir. It’s merely a bit of fun for me in my spare time.”
“Nonsense. You have the makings of a professional and I won’t hear another word against it.” Victor tightened his grip on her waist, then pulled her closer and stole her breath. “I’d love to hear you play again sometime soon. Perhaps a more private concert.” He smiled, his eyes once again locked onto hers. “Just the two of us.”
“Mr. Pembroke,” Cordelia managed, “that’s rather inappropriate.”
“I know,” he said, sending a blush into her cheeks that she felt all the way down her body. “That’s what makes it enjoyable, isn’t it?” Before she could even begin to think of a reply, he swept her sideways out of time of the music and spun her around. Cordelia’s eyes widened in surprise and she could feel the looks of everyone else in the room as her feet actually left the ground for a moment. He was strong, far stronger than Arthur, and when he set her back down she found herself at once wishing that he would do it again.
“My goodness,” she said, wondering if she would ever stop blushing. “You should have warned me you were going to do that!”
“What fun would that have been?” Victor leaned in a little closer and Cordelia resisted the urge to meet him halfway. What am I doing? I’m a married woman, I can’t be seen doing something like this. Still, she let him come closer, wanting to hear what he had to say. “You don’t seem to have much fun in your life.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“I’m saying that I know a bit about your situation and I sympathize,” he said, suddenly much less flirtatious than he’d been before. Cordelia’s heart skipped a beat. Does he mean he knows about Arthur? She wanted to ask him what he meant but was afraid of what he might say.
“How do you---“ The song ended just as she was about to speak and she fell silent, glad she hadn’t blurted anything out when the music had stopped. She was about to lower her voice and find out exactly how much he knew when Richard came over with his customary smile.
“Cordelia,” he said, then winked. “See, there, I said it! I just wanted to say how wonderful this party is and ask if you’d be so kind as to favor an old man with a dance.” He turned his twinkling eyes to Victor. “You don’t mind, do you Mr. Pembroke?”
“Of course not,” Victor said, offering Cordelia’s hand to the general in spite of her great desire for him to keep holding it. “I’d like to have a look around this place while I’m here. I got a short tour while I was here the other day but I’m sure Lord Whittemore would be happy to show me about.” He nodded across the room where Arthur, to Cordelia’s dismay, was standing very close to a handsome young man. He was holding a glass of champagne and seemed far too interested in the young man, and Cordelia was glad to see Victor going over to him, if for no other reason than to protect her husband’s reputation. He didn’t seem willing to do it himself now that he’d had a bit to drink.
This is all so draining, Cordelia thought as she smiled up at Richard and they began to dance to a much quicker song. I don’t know that I was meant to keep a secret like this in my head.
Though the party was intended to end at ten, Cordelia found herself still escorting guests out at nearly midnight. She was every bit the courteous hostess and chatted pleasantly with them on their way out the door but whenever she waved farewell to someone she found herself doing a mental inventory of who was still in the mansion and the best way to make them move along. She hadn’t seen her husband in more than an hour and she was afraid to even think about what that meant. Instead, she found herself wondering when Victor had left.
She was a little annoyed that he hadn’t bothered to say goodbye to her, and even more annoyed that she hadn’t had another chance to talk to him and find out what he knew about Arthur. It was true that her husband seemed to have been more indiscreet lately but for her sister to come to her with rumors and Victor to come right out and say something about it, it meant that other people were starting to take note of it.
With a sigh, she turned and went back into the manor. The quartet had long since packed up and departed and Cordelia had thanked them profusely on their way out.
As she went up the steps to the house, two men walked past her and raised their hands in greeting but didn’t stop. Grateful to them for this, Cordelia smiled politely and bade them goodnight as she made her way toward the dining hall.
There was no one left when she got there, but she was surprised to hear voices in the back hallway that led to the kitchens. Sighing at the thought of more people to chivvy out the front door and wondering what on earth people were doing all the way back there, Cordelia put on her best hostess smile and went into the hallway only to have her smile slide off her face when she saw who it was.
Victor didn’t see her at first, though she hardly could have expected him to with his face pressed against the side of Patricia’s neck. Her blonde hair had come partially undone from its bun and curls of it were brushing against his cheek. He was saying something that Cordelia couldn’t hear, but Patricia was giggling, which probably had more to do with the fact that his hand was under her skirt, pushing it up far enough for Cordelia to see the tops of her socks.
“Excuse me,” Cordelia said, snapping both of their faces in her direction. Patricia’s eyes widened and Victor pulled his hand away so her dress fell back down to cover her. “The party ended two hours ago. One of you needs to leave and the other has work to do.” She looked at Patricia icily. “Unless you would like to leave together. In which case I shall have to find a new maid.”
“No ma’am, I’m so sorry,” Patricia said, her cheeks bright. “Excuse me.” She turned her eyes to the ground and hurried away in the direction of the kitchen, leaving Cordelia alone with Victor.
“I trust you can see yourself out without accosting any more of my servants?” Her voice was frosty as she addressed him, then turned on her heel and started back down the hallway. She didn’t care what he might be up to, she was going to find Arthur and make him clear out the rest of the guests. As far as she was concerned, Cordelia was finished for the night.
“Lady Whittemore,” Victor called after her as she stalked down the main hallway looking for her husband. “Please, wait a moment.”
“I’ve nothing to say to you,” she said without looking at him.
“At least allow me to finish what I was saying earlier,” he began just as Arthur came down the stairs, blessedly alone. Cordelia motioned to Victor, her eyes narrowed even as she put on a smile for her husband.
“Arthur dear, it seems I’ve got a bit of a headache again. Could you see Mr. Pembroke out?”
“Of course, my darling,” Arthur said. “I shall send Mrs. Richmond up after you with a cool cloth as well.” He patted her hand gently, then turned to Victor. “Did you bring your horse?” The two men walked away and Cordelia thought she saw Victor try to look back at her as she stormed up the stairs with her fists balled into her skirts. Leave it to a man to ruin a perfectly lovely evening.
Seven
After the party and a long weekend, Victor found himself at his office still thinking about what had happened the night before. He sighed as he pushed away the motion he was failing to make headway on and tossed his pen on top of it.
“Is everything all right, Mr. Pembroke?”
“What?” Victor looked over at the door to his office, surprised to find his assistant Bradley looking in at him. He looked at the clock on the wall and was even more surprised to find that it was almost noon. “No, no, everything’s fine.”
“You looked like something was on your mind,” the boy said, coming in to hand him a telegram. “Either that or you had indigestion.”
“Probably too much coffee,” Victor said with a laugh. “Damn Harlow for getting me to drink the stuff in the first place.” He took the telegram from the boy’s hand and picked up a letter opener. “Thank you, Bradley, that will be all.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to bring you some coffee?”
“Out!” Victor was barely able to hold back his laughter as Bradley hurried back into the hallway. “And pour out that damn coffee!” He couldn’t actually get mad at the boy, he was Judge Wellington’s son. Half the reason he’d agreed to take him on was so that the judge would overlook his former partner’s part in the disastrous will the late Lord Whittemore had filed.
He had a pretty good idea now of why the old man had put it in his will that for his son to remain Lord Whittemore he would have to remain married long enough to produce an heir, though he had been hoping to confirm that Cordelia knew as well. She had spent the entire night dancing, though, and while he waited for her to take a breather he had started drinking. A bit too much, judging from Cordelia’s reaction. Victor wasn’t surprised. Drinking too much often got him in trouble.
He had enjoyed dancing with Cordelia. She was an excellent dancer and from what he’d seen, her skill was wasted on her husband. If what he’d heard at the pub was true, there was quite a bit about her that was wasted on him. He’d fully intended to wait to talk to her, even if it meant he had to wait all night, but once he’d gotten a few good drinks in him courtesy of the current Lord Whittemore’s servants he’d found himself in a position he’d found pleasurable at the time but was now beginning to regret.
“Excuse me, Mr. Pembroke?”
“Bradley, I thought I told you to go pour out that coffee.” Victor leaned back in his chair and put a hand over his eyes.
“A telegram just came for you.”
“I know, Bradley, you’ve just handed it to me,” Victor sighed. He held up the still-unopened telegram and Bradley shook his head.
“That’s the wrong telegram. It’s actually for Mr. Avery down the road. The delivery boy got the address wrong,” Bradley said, coming into the office to give Victor a second envelope. With a second, heavier sigh, Victor handed him the first envelope in return.
“It’s Lord Avery, actually.”
“Oh. Yes of course. Thank you, sir,” Bradley said, pointing at the door. “I’ll just go pour out the coffee now.”
Once the boy was gone, Victor opened the telegram and scanned it to make sure it was actually for him, then frowned. He’d sent a letter to his friend in London a week ago and the man was just now getting back to him. Giving the motion up as a bad job for the time being, he stood up and put on his suit coat. It was times like these that he wished he had access to a telephone.
Greenley could accurately be described as a small town if one wanted to be kind about it, but in Victor’s eyes it was little more than a wide place in the road. Being from London originally, he wasn’t used to having to go to the post office in order to send a telegram rather than making a phone call. His firm in London had a phone but before his rather unexpected death Andrew Wilshire had refused to allow him to put one in their office. Not even the doctor in town had one, which seemed like a terrible oversight to Victor. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t even sure the town had the wiring necessary to have telephones.
“Afternoon, Mr. Pembroke,” the postman said when he walked into the post office. “What can I do for you this afternoon?”
“I need to send a telegram,” Victor said. “Unless you can magically make a telephone appear.”
“No sir,” the postman said, shaking his head. “Most people in Greenley are lucky to have indoor lighting. To whom do you want to send a telegram?”
“Judge Ronald Perkins, in London. Tell him it’s too complicated and would breach privilege to put in a telegram and that I’ll meet with him in London at the end of the week to discuss it further.” He took out his wallet and pushed a pound note across the counter. The postman’s eyes widened.
“Good lord, sir, that’s far too much!”
“Keep the rest of it for yourself and don’t tell anyone you sent that telegram, or about the contents of the previous telegram.” The last part was unnecessary. Judge Perkins had been concise and vague, as befitted a member of the court, but one could never be too careful when dealing with the law and nobility. Leaving the postman still groping for words, he turned and went back outside. Instead of going back to his office, he went to the stable to get his horse.
Yet another inconvenience, he thought irritably. In London I don’t doubt that everyone’s driving around in automobiles by now.
As he rode out to the Whittemore estate he found himself thinking about Cordelia again. Both the estate and Arthur’s previous house were rather far from Greenley and he couldn’t recall ever seeing her in town. He wondered if she ever got out of the house or if she was stuck there all the time. It was unlikely that she’d ride into town like her husband but there was nothing saying she couldn’t come in the carriage.
She didn’t seem like the type of woman who would enjoy country living, which led him to believe that she’d been married off to Arthur by her parents. The same fate had likely befallen her sister, though she seemed much happier with the General than Cordelia did with her husband. The Ellisons could scarcely keep their eyes off each other, even with the age difference, whereas he couldn’t recall seeing more than the barest hint of affection between Lord and Lady Whittemore.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Pembroke,” the stablemaster said as he rode up to the estate. “It’s good to see you again. Is Lord Whittemore expecting you?”
“He’s not,” Victor said, “but he’s going to want to speak to me. He just doesn’t know it yet.” He dismounted and patted his horse affectionately, then took his satchel from where he’d secured it to the saddle and handed the reins to the stablemaster. “Thank you.”
“You just send someone out to let me know when you’re ready for him again, sir.”
Victor walked the rest of the way up to the mansion, looking at the perfectly manicured garden along the way. It was a beautiful house with equally beautiful grounds, an elegant cage for a young bird whose feathers were too bright to keep hidden. The carved wooden door opened as he came up the stairs and the old, strict-looking woman he knew as Mrs. Richmond flicked her eyes over him and didn’t smile.
“Good afternoon,” she said tightly. “I assume you’re here to see Lord Whittemore?”
“I am,” Victor said, giving her one of his most winning smiles. “I’ve got some important business to discuss with him regarding his father’s estate.”
“Very well. Follow me.”
Mrs. Richmond led him down the hall and somewhere in the house he could hear Cordelia playing the piano. It was a spirited piece that sounded like a companion to the one she’d played at the party and he wished he could take a moment to go listen and possibly try to explain his behavior to her. Victor had never felt the need to explain his behavior to anyone but he wanted to at least tell her he was sorry. Then he looked at Mrs. Richmond and knew the likelihood of getting near Cordelia without her or Arthur was slim.
The doors to Arthur’s study were closed when they reached it and Mrs. Richmond knocked sharply on it. Victor had no doubt that her knock could be heard as far down as the root cellar, and a moment later Arthur opened the door. When he saw Victor, his face broke into a grin.
“Well, hello there Victor! This is a surprise. What brings you out here?” He reached out to Victor and the two men shook hands.
“I wanted to speak to you about your father’s estate. It’s a private matter,” Victor said, lowering his voice. He didn’t need to. Mrs. Richmond had already turned away and gone off to wherever she went when she wasn’t giving everyone suspicious looks.
“Of course. Do come in.” Arthur led him into the study and shut the door behind him, locking it to be safe. “Have you had news from your judge friend in London yet?”
“Nothing useful, I’m afraid. He said he might have some thoughts on it but neither of us wanted to put it in something so public as a telegram just in case someone gets a bit too nosy. I’m planning on meeting him in London at the end of the week to discuss it further. Unfortunately that’s going to have to be added to your expenses.”
“Of course it is. I trust you’ll take care of things properly.” Arthur sighed and looked up at the oil painting of his father that was above the desk. “This has all gotten out of hand.”
“Does Lady Whittemore know?”
“About Father’s will? I’m afraid she does. I was hoping not to have to tell her until we had better news. Sort of give her the bad news followed by telling her we’d sorted it out. She still had some hope that she would be able to get out of this right away and I had to explain the situation.” He looked at Victor. “I trust you’ll be able to handle the divorce?”
“Yes, I believe so. You’re willing to grant it to her so I doubt the courts will give you any trouble.” Victor joined him in looking up at the painting. He’d never actually met the late Lord Whittemore but judging from his will he couldn’t imagine that he was pleasant to be around. If he was going to be honest, the man seemed like a petty old bastard. “It may make things difficult for her.”
“Oh?” Arthur looked surprised. “Why is that?”
“Most men aren’t interested in a divorced woman,” Victor said with a shrug. “They see her as being ruined by her first husband. Not to mention they’re usually seen as being the ones to blame for the divorce. Husbands don’t just let their wives out of a marriage without a reason.”
“I see,” Arthur said. “I’d never even considered that. I’ve caused so many problems for her, I intend to take care of her until she’s able to remarry but I don’t want people to look at her badly.”
“I’m sure you have your reasons,” Victor said, letting his sentence dangle slightly in the hopes Arthur would confirm his suspicion about why he wanted to divorce his wife. When he didn’t oblige, Victor shrugged. “In any case, I’ll do my best to get things sorted out for you. You’re simply going to have to be patient a bit longer.”
“I know. For her sake, I just hope it’ll be soon,” Arthur said. There was a knock at the study door and both men looked in its direction. “Yes?”
“Excuse me, sir,” the butler said, putting his head into the study, “but there’s a gentleman downstairs who says he needs to speak with you about the stable.”
“Oh, lovely,” Arthur said sarcastically. “It’s never good news.”
“I’m sure,” Victor said. “I’ll leave you to your stable problems. I can see myself out, I remember the way.” Arthur nodded and extended his hand. Victor shook it again with a smile, then opened the door and went out into the hallway.
He did indeed remember the way out of the mansion, seeing as how he had been escorted out only a few nights before. Arthur had been kind about it, far kinder than he felt Lady Whittemore would have been given her reaction to finding him with the maid, and Victor doubted he even knew why Cordelia was asking him to be shown the door. He got the feeling that Arthur didn’t refuse his wife much, probably because he knew that divorcing her was in the future and he was trying to make it up to her in advance. Victor sighed. Nobility had troubles he could scarcely dream of, but the retainer he was getting paid made dealing with them worthwhile.
On his way out, his ears caught the sounds of Cordelia playing the piano. Victor automatically turned toward it, drawn by the notes and his memory of the shape of her face. There was something about her that had gotten under his skin in a way that no other woman had, and the desire to see her again was like a drug.
He found her in the room that had been converted into a conservatory, sitting at the piano. The piece she was playing was melancholy, slow and deliberate, and he could feel the emotion she was putting into each note. Some people wore their hearts on their sleeves but Cordelia showed hers in her music. He wondered just how much she knew or suspected of her husband’s secrets. She didn’t seem like an unintelligent woman.
Victor wasn’t sure how long he stood there listening to her play, but too quickly she turned from the keys and looked at him, her eyes widening and then narrowing when she saw who it was. There was a fire in them that he rarely saw in a woman, and in spite of the fact that her husband could walk in at any moment, he felt the rush of wanting to possess her.
“Good afternoon, sir,” she said, and though her words were polite he could feel they were shot through with ice. “Have you come to see my husband? I believe he’s in his study.” She turned back to her piano. “It’s very rude of the servants to let you simply wander about our manor. I shall have a word with them.”
“I already saw Lord Whittemore,” Victor said. “He had to meet with someone and asked if I could see myself out. Then I heard you playing and wanted to come listen.”
“I see. Well, no one’s stopping you.” She turned back around and put her fingers on the keys, then began to play. The room was again filled with the rich notes that he’d heard before, and Victor moved closer to her as if he was in a trance. Cordelia didn’t seem to notice, even when he stood over her shoulder, close enough to see the pages of sheet music she was reading from. It didn’t surprise him to see that her playing didn’t match what was on the page, but he was impressed that she was working from memory. Cordelia looked over her shoulder and jumped, startled, when she saw how close he was. With a growl of irritation, she slapped her hands on the keys and stood up. “What are you still doing here?”
“You said I could stay and listen.” They were separated by the piano bench but he could feel the anger radiating off Cordelia as she looked at him. “I know I left last night in a hurry, but I hope you aren’t upset with me.”
“If you don’t know the answer, I’m certainly not going to be the one to tell you.” Cordelia snatched the sheet music off the piano and pushed past him. Not even realizing what he was doing until he felt her under his hand, Victor reached out and grabbed her upper arm.
“Lady Whittemore---“
“Don’t you touch me,” Cordelia snapped. She jerked her arm away from him, dropping her sheet music in the process. Her cheeks filled with color as she knelt down to scoop it up. “Go,” she said without looking up at him. “Just go. Get out of my house.”
“All right, all right,” Victor said, holding up his hands. “I’ll speak to you about our business when I come back to see your husband.”
“I have no business with you,” Cordelia said, holding her mixed-up stack of sheet music to her chest. “Good day, sir.” She stalked past him, nearly running into Patricia on her way out the door. Cordelia glared at the younger woman for a moment, then turned back to Victor with a dangerous smile. “Please show Mr. Pembroke out, Patricia. If you’re able to find the door once I leave you alone together, that is.”
As soon as Cordelia was gone, Patricia looked at Victor. Her cheeks were even redder than her mistress’ had been and she was unable to meet Victor’s eyes. For his part, the passion he’d felt for the girl was completely gone. She was still attractive, but in the light of day he could tell that she was quite a bit younger than he’d thought after a few drinks, and he wasn’t interested in women as young as her husband liked his men.
“May I show you out, sir?”
“No need,” Victor said. “I know the way.” He walked past her, ignoring the crestfallen look on her face, and started down the hallway toward the door. It somehow felt longer than it had the night before and he glanced at the stairs as he opened the door to leave. If Cordelia had gone up them, she was long gone. Victor sighed. This family was more trouble than it was worth.