Catherine Archer - Lady Thorn

She frowned at her reflection, her fingers tracing the lace collar that edged the neckline of her yellow gown. Even though the hooped confection was of the very latest design, with its wide lace-trimmed sleeves and multitiered skirt, it certainly was not her best color.

Surely she had something more… But she resisted the urge to summon Betty to her chamber. The maid would wonder what was amiss if her mistress changed for the midday meal. She never did so.

She stood abruptly, knowing there was no time for such frivolity, and absolutely no need for it. There was no reason to worry about her appearance simply because a man happened to be in residence, even if he was undeniably handsome and made her heart turn over when he smiled at her. Victoria already was overdue in meeting with the head cook to go over the next week’s menus. By the time she was finished with that, the luncheon would be ready to serve.

It would not be polite to keep either the servants or Mr. Jedidiah McBride waiting. She felt a strange fluttering in her belly at the thought of seeing him again. Her immediate attempts to still the sensation were not as successful as she would have wished.

‘Victoria was just giving the cook one final suggestion for a change in menu when there was a knock on the drawing room door. She called out, “Enter,” then turned to finish what she had been saying as one of the footmen came into the room. “Beef on Tuesday, I think, Mrs. Everard, rather than the usual chicken.” Something about Jedidiah McBride told her he was a man who preferred beef to chicken.

The cook looked at her mistress in obvious surprise. “Beef on Tuesday, my lady?”

Victoria was aware that they had been eating chicken on Tuesdays for as long as she could recall. “As I’m sure you are aware, my cousin from America is visiting us. I wish to make him comfortable and content while he is here. His visit comes as a welcome surprise to me. Who would have thought that Great-uncle Lionel’s grandson would make an appearance here in England. For years no one had any clue as to what had become of the family adventurer.”

Mrs. Everard smiled at her mistress with the proper mixture of fondness and deference. “It is a true wonder, and very good to see that you have family again.” The cook lowered her blue eyes and nodded her gray head. “I will see that there is a nice roast laid on that day.”

Victoria nodded in return, glad to have the housekeeper accept her explanation for Jedidiah McBride’s presence so readily. She could only hope it would go so well once they began to introduce him to society. “Thank you, Mrs. Everard. You are, as ever, most accommodating. Also, I wish to inform you that there will be no need to prepare a menu list for the next week. We will be going to the London house to attend some of the events of the season.”

The head cook curtsied and turned to go with a selfsatisfied smile at the compliment. Victoria halted her. “One last thing, Mrs. Everard.”

The robust woman swung back to face her. “Yes, my lady.”

“Coffee.”

“Yes, my lady?”

“My cousin prefers coffee to tea. I would appreciate your seeing that he has some of that beverage each morning.”

Another curtsy. “As you wish, my lady.” She left the room.

Victoria then turned to the footman. “Yes, Charles?”

“I have been sent to inform you that Miss Mary has arrived.”

Victoria made a soft noise of surprise even as she stood and hurried across the room to the door, which the footman opened for her. She had forgotten having asked Mary to lunch with her. Which, she told herself, was not completely irresponsible of her, considering the events of the past twelve hours.

Should she tell Mary the sea captain’s true identity? Not since they’d become friends as children had Victoria kept any secret from her.

Hurrying across the foyer to where her best and only true friend awaited her, Victoria held out her hands. “Mary, how good it is to see you. How is your father?” She studied her friend with true concern. There were faint shadows beneath her golden-brown eyes, and Mary sighed as she removed her straw bonnet and ran a hand over her goldstreaked brown hair. The hat was prettily decorated with dried flowers from her garden, and was simple in design, as Mary preferred things to be. She wore no hoop beneath her dark blue skirts, having told Victoria that she had no use for such conceits when the device made its appearance the previous year. She felt it did not offer her enough freedom in her walks across the moors, but there was little of the accustomed energy in Mary’s movements as she turned back to her friend.

Victoria knew that the reverend’s illness was beginning to take its toll on his daughter, though she would never complain. Mary’s unstinting devotion to the sick man was one of the very reasons she insisted on having her friend to luncheon on a regular basis. Knowing how important this weekly outing was to Mary’s well-being made Victoria flush with shame at having forgotten it.

Victoria tried not to show how flustered she felt as she listened to Mary, who replied with sad resignation. “Father is the same. Mrs. Withers was good enough to agree to sit with him for a few hours so I could come.” She paused, studying Victoria with those unwaveringly direct golden eyes of hers, then said, “Why, Victoria, you had forgotten I was coming.” As ever, she had been able to read her mind. Her tone was more amused than upset, effectively alleviating some of Victoria’s remorse.

Despite her troubled preoccupation with Jedidiah McBride, Victoria gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I am afraid you have me there.”

Mary’s father was the vicar of the church in Carlisle, and a very learned scholar. Victoria had gone to him for lessons for years, and Mary had been present at those lessons. The bond that had been forged from the first day at the age of six was stronger than iron. Under no circumstances could Victoria keep a secret from her, and that included the truth about Jedidiah McBride’s identity.

Mary was the one person with whom she must not stand on ceremony, which made Victoria cherish their friendship all the more. Even after the decision to tell all was made, Victoria felt an unexpected sense of shyness at the idea of speaking of Jedidiah to her friend.

Not wishing to question the cause of this feeling, she leaned close to the slightly shorter Mary. “I have so much to tell you.”

Even as Mary’s eyes widened, displaying her obvious curiosity at her friend’s words, Victoria took her arm and pulled her into the library. After first making sure it was vacant, she pushed the other woman down into one of the leather chairs that sat before the lacquered desk.

Victoria remained standing, feeling too agitated to sit. She only hoped that Mary would not think she had gone mad. In spite of her self-professed disregard for propriety and convention, Mary was quite levelheaded, and Victoria very much respected her opinions on all matters.

As Victoria began her story, Mary settled back in her seat to listen. Only when the attempted kidnapping was mentioned did she make any sound, interrupting with a gasp. “Victoria, how can you stand there so calmly and tell me this? Have you called the law?”

Victoria shook her head. “No, but really, there was no need. You do not know Reginald Cox, but believe me, he is a coward of the worst order. The only reason I have any kind of acquaintance with him is that his mother and mine were friends as girls. When we were children, he sometimes visited Briarwood with her.”

When Mary opened her mouth as if to say more, Victoria stopped her with a raised hand. “If you’ll allow me to finish, you’ll understand why he is no threat to me.” The woman subsided, folding her hands in her lap, though she appeared no less concerned.