Christmas Delights (21 page)

John nodded. “Commemorates some battle in ancient times.”

“I see. Well, plenty of those around here.”

“Are you going to end that fairy tale with a big battle?” His eyes crinkled with humor.

“I shouldn’t think so. It’s a child’s tale, after all.”

The butler came in with the gong and waited expectantly for the crowd to hush.

John patted her hand one last time. “I’ll speak to your father this evening, or at least make an appointment with him. Ye might be sorting out my bachelor household by summer.”

She forced a smile.
Summer
. “You are so very good to me, John.”

The sound reverberated through the room, and they stood. She took John’s offered arm and went to their place in the procession. The rest of her life had begun. She told herself not to be selfish and regret any of it.

John sat next to Victoria at the church services the next morning. He asked her to walk back with him instead of riding in the carriage. Penelope had stayed home because of her cough, so Victoria was free to acquiesce.

Their breath puffed out clouds of winter white as they walked back from the village. She was astounded when John took her to the wishing well.

“Did you come here on New Year’s Day?” he asked.

“Yes.” She didn’t want to explain that she’d come again due to her desire not to expose Penelope’s wildness.

“Did your wish involve me?” he asked with a teasing grin.

“In a way,” she said. “I made a general wish, to be honest.”

“Very noble of ye. It is obvious to me that ye always think of others, Victoria.” He took both of her hands in his. They both wore gloves, but somehow the intimacy was there, even more so than all the times she had stood or sat next to him. They were face to face. She could see every bit of the faint shadow, already present from his heavy beard despite the time of day, a sharp, short scar above his left eyebrow, his adorably lopsided upper lip. She would soon know this face as well as her own.

“I spoke to your father, Victoria, and he has agreed to the match. Indeed, I believe he welcomes it, despite the fact that ye will be leaving Liverpool.”

She nodded, though her heart had begun to pound. When Sir Humphrey had proposed, she’d been calm, cool. But this proposal felt very different.

“We will love each other in time, my dear, I know it. We have too much affection for it tae be otherwise. A half-year engagement, I think, long enough for us to become true intimates.”

Unable to speak, she nodded again.

“What do ye say? Despite your knowledge that I was tae speak to Mr. Courtnay, I still want ye to have a voice. Will ye do me the honor of becoming my baroness, Victoria?”

She swallowed hard and tried to will moisture to her parched mouth. But before she could speak, she was knocked off balance by a sudden jolting under her feet. The sound of stone cracking came from her left. John rocked from side to side, an expression of surprise on his face that surely matched her own. She dropped to one knee when the ground jolted again. John fell over her, whether from losing his balance himself or in an attempt to protect her, she didn’t know.

They stared into each other’s eyes, and she thought he must be planning to kiss her, but he didn’t.

After several moments, when nothing else happened, he spoke. “Divine providence has spoken, my dear. Ye will give me your answer another time? I’m sure ye will want to check on your young cousin.”

“Of course,” she stammered. Then the wishing well seemed to vibrate next to her hip.
Danger
. The ground rumbled again.

John lifted himself off her and pushed her away from the well. She rolled over, her face picking up prickling stabs of pebbles as she rotated. He dragged her to her feet and they stumbled down the slope as the well crumbled into itself, the multicolored stones collapsing. Within seconds, the wooden beams clattered across the top of what was now nothing but a two-foot-high circular wall. The sounds of the destruction reverberated, along with a fuzziness in her eardrums from the sheer shock of what had transpired.

“Holy Mother,” Victoria whispered. “Will the Fort be spared?” Was Penelope all right? Lewis? Her father?

“Let us hope we were at the center of the damage right here,” John said, a grim cast overtaking his normally sunny face. He lifted his hand to his eyes and looked toward the village. “I can still see the church spire.”

“That’s a good sign. It’s an old building, like the Fort.” He took her arm and they trotted toward the Fort as fast as she could move in her constricting skirts.

They made it halfway down before seeing anyone else. Figures appeared at the base of the low hill they were atop and ran toward them with the agility of youth.

“Any word on the town?” a man she recognized as an undergardener called.

“The church spire still stands,” John said. “What is the news at the Fort?”

“Still standing, though I expect they lost a lot of china and such,” the man said.

“There are ruins in the lake,” shouted the boot boy. “Just appeared in the water, they did! Pushed up from under the earth.”

“How strange,” John said. “We saw the wishing well collapse in the oddest manner.”

The third man, one of the Fort’s footmen, shook his head. “Nothing natural about earthquakes. The countess said to check on the village. Good luck to you.”

John and Victoria stepped off the path to let them pass, then continued on their journey, excitedly discussing the ruins now that they knew the Fort had held. The ground under their feet rattled a couple of times, but nothing like the previous violent movements transpired.

She balked when they reached the drawbridge. “Do you think it is safe to go across?”

“The moat isn’t that deep, only up to our knees, so I wouldn’t worry,” John said.

She nodded and they stepped slowly across the damp, creaking wood and through to the house in the courtyard. Inside was a scene of disarray. Maids were clearing away glass and china from vases that had been in the hall. Paintings had fallen, their frames on the marble floor, partially shattered. The grand staircase looked intact. She could see a long crack across the ceiling, though, and pointed it out to John.

“Just the plaster, I think,” he said, squinting. “I should probably find the earl and see where I can be of assistance.”

“I’m going to check on Penelope, then find my father.”

He nodded, all business, not even smiling, and headed toward the earl’s study. His mien reminded her rather painfully that neither of them thought of this as a love match, not for now at least. If he loved her, she’d have had a kiss, a hug, a longing glance,
something
, before he parted with her after a trying experience. But still, that meant the engagement might be easier to break if she could find a way to manage it later.

She forced herself up the stairs to check on Penelope, finding more ceiling cracks as she went. Paintings were on the ground in the hallway upstairs as well. She could see the chairs in the nook at the end of the hall all on their sides, as if a naughty child had upended them.

Her door was closed, but the frame hadn’t been warped, and she opened it easily. Penelope was in bed, red-faced and sniffling. When she saw Victoria, her expression changed to one of wonder, and she pushed the covers back and launched herself at her cousin.

Victoria wrapped her arms around Penelope as the girl sobbed. “Has no one checked on you?”

The girl sniffed and shook her head.

“I’m so sorry. I came right here.”

“First?”

“Yes.” Victoria set the girl at arm’s length and retied the ribbon holding her long brunette curls out of her face. “You came first, as if you were my own child.”

“You aren’t old enough to be my mother.” Penelope’s lower lip protruded.

“No, but I love you that much,” Victoria assured her. “Don’t doubt that.”

“Uncle Rupert is going to send me to that horrible school. My father told me so in a letter.”

“Why hasn’t your father come to you?” Victoria asked. “Do you know why?”

“I’m not supposed to know these things, but he had a doxy. I heard my mother shouting at him all the time. I think he’s gone to live with the doxy. What’s a doxy?”

Victoria blinked. “I expect your parents’ marriage was so painful, he found himself a lady friend.”

“That’s very naughty of him.”

Victoria nodded, then shook out her skirts briskly. “You aren’t going to that school. I’ve arranged it with Father. You are going to live with me, always, until you marry someday.”

“I am?” The girl’s pout became a look of wonder.

“Yes. Now, do you want to get dressed? I understand there are ruins poking out of the lake and I’m terribly curious to see them.”

“Yes,” Penelope said. “I promise I won’t even cough.”

Victoria regarded her critically. “Wrap a muffler around your mouth and nose to keep the air warm. That should help. But this shouldn’t be missed.”

Penelope dug through her trunk and Victoria helped her dress. They were ready to leave in ten minutes. So far, they hadn’t felt any additional tremors.

They went out the back of the Fort and started down the hill, but something seemed wrong. Victoria realized what it was after a moment: the stables had collapsed. The structure that had been at the base of the hill for who knew how long had quite disintegrated. Victoria put her hand to her mouth, utterly shocked by the ruin of everything Lewis, the earl, and all of his men had been working on. Splintered boards were everywhere, and nothing stood above Penelope’s height. Bales of hay were scattered and broken across the landscape, and she could smell noxious odors that must be chemicals that had poured out of broken containers.

“Oh my goodness.” Penelope’s eyes were huge above her muffler. “Do you think anyone was killed?”

Victoria wondered uneasily if it was safe to be anywhere nearby. Was there a risk of fire? But she didn’t want to frighten the girl. She changed their path to take them far away from the remains. “Don’t be gruesome, darling. I’m sure we’d have been told. The countess sent some of the men who worked here to the village, so I’m positive no one was even injured. Look at all the men combing through the wreckage. Surely that’s about as many men who were working there.”

She recognized the earl, taller than the others, pointing to a lump on one end. Was that the submarine? Had it survived? Lewis was nowhere to be seen. She couldn’t resist the sharp pang of fear that stabbed her heart. But no, she was correct in what she’d told Penelope. They’d spoken to those men by the well and had passed several maids. Someone would have reported fatalities.

They gave the destruction a wide berth as they headed to the lake. She couldn’t see anything in the chilly gray waters at first, but they followed the path around until she saw a knot of people standing in the muddy reeds.

They waded into the muck to join them. She saw a shock of blond curls and recognized Lewis instantly. The stabbing pain in her chest suddenly vanished. Next to him stood Rose, dressed for the outdoors in fashionable attire. She didn’t see her father in the small crowd and wondered where he’d gotten to.

Rose saw her and waved. Victoria stepped nearer.

“Have you seen my father?”

“He’s inspecting some of the outbuildings with one of the Dickondells,” Rose said. “The earl gave everyone who asked a task.”

“What is your task?”

“We’re to document the ruins in case the earth swallows them again.” Rose held up a sketchbook. “See? A photographer isn’t available, though I think someone was sent to the village for the local man.”

Victoria glanced at Rose’s charcoal sketch, then out to the water, where the spiky original stone ruins were on display. “Is this what the earl wanted to find with his submarine?”

“There is an old legend,” Rose said. “Lewis, you know the story, don’t you?”

He nodded absently. “I believe it goes something like, ‘Once upon a time . . .’ ”

V
ictoria smiled despite herself. Was she really about to say good-bye to this man forever so she could marry John? How could he tell an old legend so calmly, as if she wasn’t about to throw away the love she felt for him? Didn’t he sense the end of their romance? Couldn’t he feel her torment? Her heart hardened as she resolved to focus on Penelope’s needs rather than her desire for this infuriatingly independent man. She couldn’t see the future, know if she’d ever even see Lewis again. “Once upon a time?”

“Not all of us can be the original storyteller you are,” Lewis said, tightening his nubby green muffler around his throat. “Now, if you look at the top of the ruin, you’ll see it is a bell tower, yes?”

Penelope clutched Victoria’s sleeve. “Like in your story? With the three bells unrung?”

Lewis looked at her with surprise. “That is exactly how the legend goes. When the Normans came, the priest was supposed to ring the bells to warn the Fort and the villagers so they could take refuge. But the bells were new, and the first time he attempted to ring them, they all cracked.”

Victoria peered across the lake, trying to ignore the way her pulse pounded. She could see black spots in front of her eyes. “Is one of the bells still there?”

“I can’t imagine how,” Rose said. “They’d be more than eight hundred years old.”

“Depends on what they were made of,” Lewis said. “The bell tower was probably stone, but the bell would be metal. What would be gone would be what held it in place. Probably a wooden beam, which would likely disintegrate when exposed to air.”

“I swear there is a bell,” Victoria said. “Truly.” She pointed. Or was it only a spot in her vision?

“It’s just a legend,” Rose said. “I mean, I’ve drawn it, so I can see what you mean, but there is no evidence it even is a church.”

“I probably have the idea in my mind because of the fairy tale,” Victoria admitted.

“It doesn’t have a happy ending,” Lewis told them. “The bell maker leapt from the tower in despair and the priest died in the Norman attack.”

“Gruesome,” Penelope said. “Why would Prince Hugh have told Princess Everilda to go to the tower that night if all that was going to happen?”

“So she could see the Normans coming,” Victoria said. “And go back to the castle to warn everyone. Otherwise they wouldn’t have known.”

Lewis squinted. “I think you are right about the bell, though, oddly enough. A pity all the men are checking outbuildings and the village right now. We ought to paddle out there and get a closer look.”

“Shouldn’t you be helping at the stables?” Victoria asked, irritated by his casual attitude.

“I did as the earl asked,” he said. “Hmmm; I wonder if there is a rowboat still tied to the dock. Did anyone notice if the dock survived?”

Lady Barbara shook her head. “I’m quite sure it didn’t. We went down there to see if anyone had fallen into the water.”

“This quake has given and taken away, it seems,” Lewis mused. He canted onto his left hip and shaded his eyes with his hand. “Let us hope we have a chance to study the old church before another earthquake sends it below again.”

“So you’ve lost your submarine but gained a new project?” Victoria asked, not hiding her sarcasm.

“The submarine idea is going to be overhauled,” Lewis said, rubbing his hands together. “Our current prototype is worthless, so the only thing of worth that we lost is the building. The earl will rebuild and we’ll be back to work in a couple of weeks.” He gave her a calm smile.

“The house party will be over soon,” she said, irritated that her mood didn’t seem to affect him.

He nodded. “I’m sure the countess will put everyone to work repairing the Fort after the guests leave.”

“Then she’ll have weddings to plan,” Lady Barbara said with a soft smile.

“I’ll keep the earl out of the way for you,” Lewis said. “He’s going to come up to Battersea with me for a couple of weeks to fabricate the new submarine.”

“How wonderful,” Lady Barbara said. “We don’t need him wandering the Fort moaning about the expense.”

How utterly focused on work Lewis was. He didn’t seem to care that they might never see each other again after a couple of days. She might be moving to Edinburgh, though, of course, he didn’t know that yet.

“I believe there is a small boathouse on the far end of the lake,” Victoria said, ready to end the conversation.

“You are correct,” said Lady Barbara. “It’s only used in summer, but there might be a rowboat.”

“Why don’t we walk over to check?” Victoria said to Lewis, already stepping away. “Rose, will you let Penelope sketch with you?”

Rose smiled knowingly. “Of course. I have extra charcoal.”

Lewis joined Victoria on the path. They hopped numerous mud puddles as they made their way toward the boathouse. She couldn’t help thinking of how much fun it would be to hold hands with someone while taking this path. It would feel like dancing, all of this maneuvering and hopping. But Lewis had his hands in his greatcoat pockets, and rightfully so, since any number of people might be about.

“Did you feel the earth move?” he asked.

“Yes. I was near the wishing well when it collapsed.”

“Had Penelope gone there again?”

“No, I went there with John.” She gave the name careful emphasis.

“You seem quite fond of him.”

“He’s a lovely man.”

“Rather dark.”

For the first time, emotion had colored his words. “I don’t take your meaning.”

“I didn’t think you found dark men attractive.”

“I don’t think we ever discussed my ideal of male beauty,” she snapped.

His cheek tensed, but he didn’t respond. Just then, she spotted a squat building past the part of the path that turned to go alongside the far end of the Fort and on to the village.

“That must be the boathouse there.”

He nodded. “I believe you are correct, Victoria.”

“Lewis,” she said, stopping on the path, her fingers icy under her gloves. “We’re going to be very busy from now on. I have to keep a close eye on Penelope, and we’ll be packing for our return. Then tomorrow night is the bonfire celebration. So I’d like to say good-bye to you now, in case there isn’t another opportunity.”

His eyebrows drew together. “What is your point?”

“You’ll be busy with the earl,” she said impatiently. “Discussing your submarine. I’ll be busy with Penelope, and . . . well, other things. So good-bye, good journey, and good life to you.” She held out her hand.

“I don’t believe that is necessary,” Lewis said, glancing at the boathouse. “Really, Victoria, we’ll see each other again. We might even wind up on the same train north. So don’t be dramatic.”

Little did he know how hard she was trying not to be exactly that. Didn’t he know that even now, he still had the power to change everything for her? “Good-bye anyway, Lewis, just in case.”

He nodded absently. “Don’t you want to go in the boat with me and row out to the ruins? How often will you have the opportunity to see a thing like that?”

“It wouldn’t be proper.”

“Come now.” His lips curved faintly. “When has that ever troubled you?”

“Daylight,” she said. “It’s daylight. I’m only bad in the dark.”

“The Fort will be all but empty during the bonfires,” Lewis said. “We can say our good-byes then.”

She pressed her lips together, wishing she could scream. He wanted to make love to her again? Men were so obstinate, so focused on themselves. Perhaps it was better she didn’t love her husband. Love didn’t bring happiness, only pain. “Enjoy your boat trip. I’ll tell the others what you are doing so they can keep an eye out.”

“Afraid I’m going to drown? You should at least watch out for me yourself, so you can shriek for help if I capsize.”

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll stay right here and watch.”

She did just that, wiping away tears as he went into the building. She heard doors creaking, wood sliding, and then a splash as oars hit the water. Lewis soon appeared, rowing out of the boathouse toward the ruins with powerful strokes. He never looked back, never checked to see if she’d done as he asked. Her heart was breaking over him and he didn’t care.

Victoria next saw John at tea. It was a shoddier affair than usual; so much crockery had been damaged that they ate their sandwiches on silver salvers cadged from the butler’s pantry. She suspected the countess was overjoyed that the house party would be ending soon.

Her father was sitting on a sofa, talking to Rose. She went up to him just as John stood from his place next to Samuel Dickondell and moved purposefully toward the piano. Was that a signal to her?

“Papa, should we leave?” she asked. “Because of the earthquake?”

“Oh, you must not,” Rose said. “The countess could be ruined socially if her guests ran off after nothing more than a little earthquake.”

“The family needs to make repairs.”

“It can wait for another few days,” her father said. “We don’t want to look as if we are fleeing, and I believe you have business to transact.”

“How romantic,” Victoria said, feeling her mouth twist. “Really, Papa.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Rose asked.

“Congratulate me, Miss Redcake. I am about to acquire a new son,” her father said.

Rose turned to Victoria, her gaze somber. “Oh?”

“The baron has spoken to Papa,” Victoria confirmed.

“How charming,” Rose said, though not in a tone of congratulations.

Her feelings were hurt, Victoria realized. “I had better go see what he wants. The piano is our special place, you see.”

“Go on,” her father said jovially. “I’d wish you luck, but you don’t need it.”

Victoria nodded and walked through the room, feeling the stares of every inhabitant stabbing her in the back. Her cucumber sandwich had formed an uneasy knot in her stomach. At least Lewis wasn’t there to witness the end of her freedom, of her passionate explorations. No, she was to become a wife again. That happiest of occasions in a woman’s life, the fulfillment of all her dreams, tasted like ashes.

As she reached the piano and John stood to welcome her, she noticed he wore a fine black evening suit she’d never seen before, with a new silk necktie. His thick black hair had been slicked back and tamed. He looked younger than his twenty-seven years, and surprisingly anxious, given that he’d already proposed once and had her father’s permission.

“How are ye this evening, Victoria?” He forced a smile.

“Very well, thank you. And you?” Her palms itched underneath her gloves and the skin of her arms felt very cold.

“I will know better in a moment.” He cleared his throat. “I know it has been a trying day, not at all the one I might have planned for ye.”

“You cannot control the earth’s movement.”

“No, nor the stability of structures.” He smiled for a moment. “I hope ye came through your ordeal unscathed?”

She had a few bumps and bruises, but it would be unladylike to mention them. “I am happy to be so.”

“Have ye given any thought to my question?”

She realized they were both still standing. As more people came into the room, the clatter of teacups against silver salvers became all but intolerable. She wondered why the cups had survived when the plates had not.

“Victoria?” He put his finger on the sliver of bare skin between her sleeve and her glove.

The skin-to-skin contact made her shiver. “I’m sorry. The air feels very close.”

“Probably debris in the air from everything that fell and broke. Did ye notice the artwork in this room has changed? I believe they consolidated the paintings with unbroken frames in the most public rooms.”

“I noticed the greenery is gone. I suppose it all fell down.”

“The earthquake cleared away the holiday decorations a day early.”

“My goodness,” she murmured. “It is a lot of work to run an establishment of this size.”

“I have two homes, my ancestral pile and a house outside Edinburgh. Nothing so overwhelming as this.”

She forced a smile. “Then I shall have little to do with my time.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Does that mean ye will say yes?”

“Yes, John.” As if she had a choice. She wanted to clutch his hands, to find an anchor somehow. An engagement should feel like finding port, not sailing out into a stormy sea, but it didn’t this time. It simply didn’t feel right.

She glanced around, wondering if anyone had noticed their private conversation, and found herself staring right into Lewis’s eyes. He had a blank expression, rather than his usual concentrated one. Had he seen John caress her wrist? She tossed her head defiantly. What if he had? They were engaged now. John was entitled to a few liberties. It was not as if anyone expected her to be a blushing virgin bride.

“May I make an announcement?” John asked.

She couldn’t bear it, not with Lewis watching her. “What about waiting until the bonfire? Even though tonight is Twelfth Night, the countess delayed it a day due to the earthquake,” she said. “That seems like such a romantic way to end the celebration here, and the house party.”

“Of course.” He grinned at her, then touched his hair self-consciously. “We’ll keep our delicious secret for tonight and announce it tomorrow.”

She nodded and glanced away again. Lewis had vanished. What had he seen in her face? Triumph, relief, fear? “Also, I must say I heard the champagne supplies were destroyed in the earthquake. We need to give the butler some time to find replacement bottles.”

He laughed. “Very well. We wouldn’t want to toast to our future with tankards of ale.”

Victoria woke the next morning to find Penelope sitting up in bed, staring at her. She blinked and wiped the sleep from her eyes. “What?”

“It’s January sixth,” Penelope said.

“And?”