Chapter Eighteen
His seductive smile was all but impossible to resist. Still, Victoria felt compelled to make an effort. “Lord Arnprior, I do not believe that falls under the description of my duties.”
“Then I suppose I should amend them,” he said with a roguish twinkle. When she disengaged from his loose embrace, his smile faded. “Lass, I’m only teasing. You never have to do anything you don’t wish to do.”
“Thank you,” she said, now feeling foolish.
He studied her for a long moment. “Tell me what troubles you.”
She hesitated for a moment before answering. “I suppose I’m not sure of my standing in your household anymore.”
“You are the woman I hope to marry. As far as I’m concerned, you’re already a member of the Kendrick family.”
She read only sincerity in his gaze. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“Not to me. And right now I wish to be alone with you, without my blasted family taking all your notice.”
Victoria wavered, tempted more than she cared to admit. Still, there was a great deal to consider before taking their relationship further, starting with the fact that she was keeping some exceedingly troubling secrets from him.
He flashed her a rueful smile. “You’ve been avoiding being alone with me since we came to Glasgow, lass.”
“Not deliberately.”
When he raised an eyebrow, she sighed. “It’s just that it feels rather confusing at the moment. I’ve never been . . .”
“Compromised before?”
“That works.”
“Then spending time alone might be the best way to clear up any confusion.”
She’d been telling herself for days not to succumb to her feelings, but perhaps he was correct that the most sensible course of action was to spend time together like rational adults. What more harm could it do?
“Well, Miss Knight?”
She gave him a tremulous smile. “I admit I would like that.”
When his mouth curved up in a satisfied grin, she couldn’t resist teasing him. “At least spending time with you is bound to be more restful than running herd on the twins. Or keeping Royal and Lady Ainsley from murdering each other.”
“That sounds like a challenge,” he said, taking her arm and steering her toward the front of the building. “One I will be most happy to rise to.”
When he comically waggled his eyebrows, Victoria tried to look shocked. Fortunately, she was spared the need to reply when Edie emerged from the tearoom.
“There you are, Victoria. I was beginning to worry.” She nodded a greeting at Arnprior.
“Good evening, Mrs. Gilbride,” Arnprior said. “Miss Knight is feeling rather fatigued, so I’ll be taking her home.”
“Will Royal and the twins be going with you?” Edie asked.
“No,” Victoria and Arnprior said in unison.
Edie grinned. “Ah, I thought not. Very well, Alec and I will both chaperone the twins and make sure that Royal and Ainsley keep a safe distance.”
Victoria winced. “Oh, dear. They’re still fighting?”
“At the moment they’re just glaring at each other, so perhaps we’ve reached a state of armed truce.”
Victoria glanced at the earl. “Maybe we should go in.”
“God, no,” Arnprior said.
“Not to worry,” Edie said. “We have everything in hand.” She made a shooing motion. “You two go off and have fun.”
Victoria blushed at the knowing look in her friend’s eye before she allowed Arnprior to lead her to the cloakroom.
He eyed her feet. “I thought we’d walk home, but those dancing slippers will hardly do the trick.”
“Actually, the twins and I came on foot.” Kendrick House was only a short walk from the Assembly Rooms. “My half-boots are with my cloak.”
“I thought you didn’t like being out in the cold.”
“It would appear I’ve gotten used to Scotland’s climate.”
Much to her astonishment, she’d found herself missing walks and rides in the bracing Highland air. She missed drafty Castle Kinglas, too.
After an attendant fetched their various outer garments, Victoria sat in a convenient alcove to change to her boots. When she struggled to stuff her slippers into an inside pocket of her cloak, Arnprior plucked them from her hand and stowed them inside his greatcoat.
He offered her an arm. “Ready?”
As she gazed into his handsome face, she realized she was more than ready for whatever was to follow. “Yes, my lord.”
They went down the shallow stairs to the street, where he paused to carefully pull up her hood.
“Don’t want you getting a chill,” he murmured.
She appreciated his thoughtfulness. “It’s impossible to catch a chill in this cloak. It’s the best Christmas present I’ve ever received.”
The Scots didn’t fuss about Christmas, reserving most of their celebrations for Hogmanay. But Edie had insisted on having a special holiday dinner a few days ago, with the traditional foods and English customs. Afterward, she’d pulled Victoria aside and given her the sumptuous, fur-lined velvet cloak. Victoria had protested, claiming that no governess would ever wear such a garment. Edie had replied that she wouldn’t be a governess much longer, and that she needed sturdy clothing to survive the gruesome Highland winters.
“Besides, you’re family,” Edie had added, hugging her. “And there’s nothing wrong with family giving each other nice presents.”
Victoria hadn’t been able to resist such impeccable logic.
“I’m rather annoyed about that cloak,” Arnprior said. In the light of the streetlamps, he did look a little disgruntled.
“Whatever for?”
“Because you wouldn’t let me give you a Christmas present.”
He’d tried to take her shopping last week, but Victoria had steadfastly refused to countenance a public display of Arnprior lavishing gifts upon her. Glasgow was already gossiping about them enough as it was.
“The Scots don’t exchange presents on Christmas, remember?” she said.
“You made an exception with Edie and Alec.”
“But they’re family. It’s different.”
It was lovely to be able to acknowledge that Alec was her cousin, and Victoria had been astounded by the earl’s easy acceptance of her scandalous parentage. She’d been sure he would be horrified by the discovery.
“And I will be family sooner rather than later, Miss Knight,” he said with mock severity. “As such, I claim the right to give you a present whenever I wish.”
“Perhaps you can give me something for Hogmanay. I do need some new supplies for the schoolroom.”
“Saucy minx,” he said as he guided her across the street.
Victoria smothered a grin and changed the conversation to the twins and their new friends.
Despite the chill, it was a lovely night with a clear sky and a crisp feel to the air. The streetlamps cast a soft glow over the cobblestones, and the chimes of a nearby church rang out the hour with solemn grace. As they strolled along, Victoria allowed herself to breathe in a quiet joy. It was the most common of things to walk down the street on the arm of a man, and yet it felt magical. Because, in defiance of all common sense and social convention, the wonderful man who walked by her side wished to marry her.
Her, Victoria Knight, a perfectly ordinary woman, despite her royal father. She’d always been content to be ordinary. Her greatest wish had been to spend the rest of her life in sensible obscurity as a schoolteacher, finding her happiness in meaningful work.
Now, though, an entirely different path had opened before her, one she’d never thought possible. The idea of spending her life with Arnprior was more exciting than anything she’d ever imagined.
It was more frightening, too, because she wanted it so much.
A few minutes later, they climbed the steps to Kendrick House, a spacious mansion built in the last century. Initially, Victoria had been struck by its stylish furnishings and modern conveniences, which posed a stark contrast to the antiquity of Kinglas. When she’d asked Arnprior if he spent much time there, he’d frowned and tersely replied in the negative, saying Braden was the only regular inhabitant of the house.
Victoria was certain young Braden was not responsible for the mansion’s decorative flair.
“Tea in the study?” Arnprior asked once they’d handed their things to the footman.
“I’d rather a whisky.” Although not one for strong spirits, she’d developed the taste for an occasional dram, especially on a chilly evening.
Humor gleamed in his eyes. “Spoken like a true Scotswoman.”
“I know it’s not very ladylike,” she said sheepishly.
He paused, his hand on the doorknob. “Victoria, you can have anything you want. Anything I can give you.”
His quiet sincerity warmed her more than any liquor could. Arnprior was not one for casual promises or flip remarks. His words were spare and always trustworthy.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
She must have appeared like a lovestruck schoolgirl, though Arnprior didn’t seem to mind. He moved close, as if to kiss her, but when the study door opened, he jerked away.
Angus almost barreled into them. “Why the devil are ye lurking about like a pair of rum coves?” he barked as he fumbled to hang on to the ledgers he carried.
Arnprior helped his grandfather restack the ledgers. “We were about to enter my study to have a drink, in point of fact.”
The old man snorted. “After a bit of canoodling in the hall, I ken.”
“I was hoping for a little more privacy before we engaged in the canoodling,” Arnprior calmly replied.
“We were not . . . never mind.” Victoria frowned at the earl. “And you’re as bad as he is.”
“Ye could only hope so, lass,” Angus said, giving her a wink as he backed out the door.
“Good night, Angus.” The earl firmly closed the door in his grandfather’s face.
“What did he mean by that remark?” Victoria asked as he towed her to one of the needlepointed wing chairs by the fireplace. “Or do I even want to know?”
“I’m sure we’d be horrified to find out,” he said. “Almost as horrified as I am to see him mucking about with the ledgers again.”
“He just wants to help you.” She settled into the chair and tugged off her boots, stretching her chilled feet toward the roaring fire. It was rather shocking behavior on her part, but she was feeling bold tonight.
“Angus is incredibly old-fashioned and controlling,” Arnprior said as he fetched their glasses from the drinks trolley next to his desk. “Some days he treats me like I’m still in short pants.”
Victoria smiled at the thought of the earl as a little boy. She imagined he was a little too solemn for his own good, but thoroughly adorable.
He handed over a glass and settled into the chair next to her, glancing at her feet with a smile. “Getting comfortable, are we?”
She wriggled her toes, luxuriating in the heat pouring from the fireplace. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. In fact, I’m hoping to get you out of the rest of your garments by the end of the evening.”
She slopped some whisky onto her hand.
He reached over to take her glass, putting it on the round table next to his chair.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Helping you to clean up.”
When he drew the back of her hand to his mouth and licked away the drops of whisky, Victoria gasped. And when he turned it over and dragged his tongue across her palm, she went positively light-headed.
“Sir, what if someone walks in on us?” she protested in a weak voice.
Mischief glinted in his eyes. “They’ve already done that, remember?”
“Yes, and look what that led to.”
“This.”
He nuzzled the inside of her wrist, and she all but melted.
“I have no quarrel with the result of that episode,” he added, keeping hold of her hand. “My only regret is that I was so drunk I fell asleep in the middle of it, which was ridiculous of me.”
“Not as ridiculous as my position when Royal and the others walked in on us.”
“Would that be lying on the floor underneath me?”
When she tried to yank her hand away, he laughed. “Sorry, love, but I’m sure it wasn’t nearly as terrible as you think.”
“Well, the parts before you fell asleep weren’t,” she admitted.
“So why don’t we give it another go? I guarantee I won’t fall asleep this time.”
She studied his easy smile, wishing she could say yes to him—to them. She longed to be back in his arms, exchanging more than a few stolen kisses. But so many doubts and worries still cautioned her to maintain a careful distance.
A slight frown erased his smile. “Sweetheart, there’s no shame in taking a little pleasure in each other. After all, we’re to be married soon.”
“Are you sure about that?”
He looked startled. “Of course. Why would you doubt it?”
She sucked in a deep breath. It was time to be honest with him—at least about some things. “I have to doubt it, because I don’t know how you truly feel about me. Especially since I think . . .”
“Yes?”
She forced herself to say it. “Since I think you’re still in love with your wife.”
It was a humiliating admission to make, even though she certainly honored his feelings in that regard. But part of her couldn’t shake the worry that Arnprior saw her as a convenient solution to managing his fractious family, a solution forced on him by circumstances and his own sense of duty—to her and to the Kendricks.
When he let go of her hand and reached for his drink, Victoria’s heart sank. He took a healthy swallow before setting the glass aside.
“You’re wrong,” he said. “I’m not in love with her anymore.”
“But you were.”
“Yes, passionately.” He threw her a veiled glance. “Do you really want to know more?”
Not truly, but how could she agree to marry him without knowing how he felt? “I do.”
He grimaced slightly. “Very well. My wife, Janet Lockhart, came from a well-regarded family with a modest estate near the Borders. We met when we were quite young. Her family also kept a town house in Glasgow and my stepmother became acquainted with Janet’s mother.” His mouth curled up in a rueful, almost embarrassed smile. “It’s not an exaggeration to say I fell in love with her almost instantly.”
Victoria squashed an unseemly spurt of jealousy. “How young were you?”
“Very. I was fifteen and she was thirteen. I suppose you could say we were childhood sweethearts.”
“She was also instantly smitten?”
“It took her a bit longer, but by the time she was out on the marriage mart, she was convinced I was the epitome of the romantic Highland laird—or laird-to-be, I should say.”
Now she heard an edge of bitterness in his tone.
“If she saw you in a kilt, I can understand why,” Victoria said matter-of-factly. “Highland garb seems expressly designed to lead impressionable young ladies astray.”
A reluctant chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Since I thought her a veritable fairy princess, I suppose I was as foolish as she was.”
“You were young.”
“And foolish.”
She poked him in the bicep. “Young people generally are so. I’m sure you were boringly ordinary in that respect.”
His smile was wry. “Thank you for the reminder, Miss Knight.”
“You’re welcome. Now, I take it she was very pretty?”
“She was a grand beauty,” he said softly. “Janet had hair like spun gold and eyes the color of sapphires. She was a dainty lass too, petite and delicate. But she had a vivacious, laughing manner. She . . . she positively sparkled. Janet could weave a spell around most anyone, even perfect strangers.”
In other words, just the exact opposite of Victoria, as Arnprior had to know better than anyone. “She sounds utterly charming,” she said, trying not to sound like an envious harpy.
“Everyone thought so, including other men.” His tone was not approving.
“That’s to be expected, given she was a great beauty.”
He didn’t answer, instead staring moodily at the fire.
“When did you marry?” she gently prodded.
“Hmm? Oh, we wished to be married as soon as she turned eighteen, but my father was determined I finish university. He did not approve of Janet. I know he was hoping she would throw me over for someone else.”
“Why didn’t he approve?”
He lifted a negligent hand. “He believed Janet was a flighty, irresponsible girl who didn’t have the character to be a future Countess of Arnprior.”
“That seems a harsh judgment of so young a lady.”
“Our discussions on the matter were not pleasant, as you can imagine.”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
His shrug seemed anything but casual. “I wore him down, but then Father died in a riding accident, which led to another delay. Janet became so impatient that I thought she would break our betrothal.”
“But you were clearly doing your best.” Victoria would probably wait years if she knew Arnprior loved her that deeply.
“Yes, but when Janet was frustrated, she became . . .” He paused, searching for the right phrase. “Emotionally volatile. I convinced myself that her behavior was due to her eagerness to be with me.” He threw her a sardonic look. “I was wrong.”
“I’m sorry.” What else could she say?
He nodded. “Eventually we married, much to the relief of Janet’s family. They thought me capable of controlling her more erratic impulses.”
She frowned, unsure if she should continue to press him. It was becoming obvious that his marriage was not the idyllic relationship she’d assumed it to be.
He glanced over at her and sighed. “My wife was unstable, Victoria.”
“I see,” she said cautiously. “That must have been difficult.”
“Eventually that was the case. But for the first year of our marriage, we were happy. I took Janet to London, and we then spent several months in Glasgow. She redecorated Kendrick House and became the most popular hostess in town, cutting a swath through society and charming everyone.” There was a fraught pause. “Especially the men.”
Now she understood where his tale was going, and it made her heart ache for him.
“But I couldn’t remain in Glasgow forever. My brothers needed me, as did the estate. We had to return to Kinglas. Unfortunately, she wound up hating everything about it.”
For a young and clearly immature woman, the isolation must have been difficult. “I suppose she missed her family,” Victoria said, trying to be tactful.
His laugh was harsh. “No, but she hated my family, especially Angus. They fought constantly.”
“Well, he can be rather trying.”
He threw her a veiled glance. “You seemed to manage him.”
She shrugged. “I’m neither delicate nor overly sensitive, as you know.”
“Thank God for that.”
She tried not to wince, knowing he meant it as a compliment. “I take it she didn’t do well with your brothers, either.”
“To be fair, she was kind to Kade, sharing her love of music with him. She and Logan rubbed on well together too. He can charm any woman, and God knows my wife wasn’t immune to charming men.”
That sounded like another black mark against Logan Kendrick. “I’m sorry it was so difficult.”
“Life is difficult, is it not?”
“Too much, sometimes,” she replied softly.
He rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers, like she did when she had a headache. “Forgive me for sounding so mawkish, Victoria. Our life together wasn’t always terrible. When Janet became pregnant with Cam, I brought her down to Glasgow. She was happy there, until our son was born. But then she fell into a profound melancholy. Though I had the best doctors treat her, they simply counseled patience and prescribed laudanum.”
She grimaced. “Laudanum was probably not helpful in her situation.”
He glanced at her in surprise. “You know women who suffered that condition?”
“In one of my positions, the lady of the house suffered a similar ailment after the birth of her third child. It took several months for her to recover. Alcohol and laudanum drops only seemed to worsen her condition.”
He pondered that for a few moments before continuing. “Janet’s spirits improved somewhat after I procured a wet nurse and took Cam back to Kinglas. Her doctors thought it best for her to remain in Glasgow, and she seemed genuinely happier for a while. She even began socializing again. After a time, I asked her to return to Kinglas, but she refused.”
“And she didn’t mind being separated from her husband and baby?”
He hesitated, as if searching for the right words again. “She loved Cam, but she believed it best that he remain with me at Kinglas. As for our relationship . . .”
She reached over and took his hand, sure about what would come next. His fingers wrapped around hers, holding tight.
“Eventually, rumors began to circulate that Janet was engaging in affairs. When I came down to Glasgow to confront her, she broke down and admitted they were true. She’d taken a lover.” He stared intently at the fire, as if to avoid her eye. “More than one, actually.”
Even though she’d been expecting infidelity, Victoria was still shocked. She could feel the intensity of Arnprior’s pain and bewilderment. It seemed that all these years later his wife’s betrayal remained a devastating mystery.
After a minute or so, she finally dared break the fraught silence. “What did you do?”
He glanced down at their hands, as if surprised he was still holding on to her. “Oh. I forgave her, or at least tried to. She was genuinely distraught that she’d hurt me and distressed by her reckless conduct. When she begged me to give her another chance, I couldn’t say no.” He flashed her a rueful smile. “I never could.”
“Because you’re a good man and you loved her.”
“If I had said no earlier on, if I’d been more decisive with her, she might still be alive today. I might have been able to save her.”
She frowned. “Your wife fell ill and died, did she not? How could that be your fault?”
He finally met her gaze. “Janet killed herself. And the fault for that rests with me.”