Gail Eastwood (12 page)

“Well, this is a race, too,” Gilbey answered as he mounted. A rumble of thunder dramatized his remark.

It did not take him long to catch Venetia. He was riding hell-bent as fast as he dared, while she had no idea he was coming behind her. He caught up with her in an open field. When he came into view she made a halfhearted attempt to sprint away from him but apparently she thought better of it after a moment, circling her horse around to face him.

“Why did you follow me?” she demanded, her words more accusation than question.

“Why did you pretend you were not going to go?”

“You spied on me!”

“You lied to me!”

“What if I did? What makes it your business? Why can’t you leave me alone?”

That last was the real question, wasn’t it? What could he say?
Fate hasn’t allowed it. I meant to. I wanted to. I’m too much of a fool?

His best answer was a question. “If you are so worried about your sister out here with two grown men with her, why shouldn’t someone be concerned that you are out here alone?”

That stopped her for a moment. “I—I am going to meet them.”

“What if the storm spooked your horse before, you found them? What if you fell, as you did yesterday? Who would find you? What in God’s name can you do for them that they cannot do for themselves?”

She tossed her head in the arrogant way that he had grown to like, but as she did he thought he caught the glitter of moisture in her eyes. He urged his horse closer.

She brushed her eyes with a quick, impatient gesture. “I can’t tell you. It’s none of your business. Please, please, just leave me alone.”

Thunder rumbled again, much closer now.

“No, I won’t,” he said. “I can’t.”

Chapter Twelve

Venetia stared at Cranford. What was she going to do about him? She could not allow him to interfere with her life. She would have to go to Nicholas—he was the one who had brought Cranford here. But now, just right now, what was she going to do?

Her horse moved restlessly as another peal of thunder rolled through the sky, adding pressure to her indecision. The greenish black edge of the storm clouds could be clearly seen advancing from the west.
Where are you, Vivian? You need to be home.

As if in answer to her thought, three riders suddenly burst out of the woods into the field, riding as if devils were after them. Vivian, Lord Ashurst, and the groom slowed their horses as they approached Venetia and Lord Cranford.

“We came looking for you!” Venetia shouted over a clap of thunder. Artemis was backing and turning and she slapped the mare sharply with her crop to get her attention.

“Are you all right Vivi?” Venetia looked for any signs that would warn her of trouble. The storm had not yet reached them, and there had not yet been any bright bursts of lightning.

“I am so far. I’m sorry, Netia. Do let us hurry.”

Venetia wanted to know what had possessed her twin to go riding with Lord Ashurst, but now was not the time. Things seemed to be happening so quickly, they had not had time to talk over any of what had happened in the past few days.
Or we just aren’t discussing them,
she admitted more honestly. She turned Artemis around once more and urged the horse back the way they had come.

The first bright flashes of lightning lasted hardly more than the blink of an eye, and Vivian was still all right when they reached Rivington. The twins barely waited for their horses to stop before they dismounted, throwing their reins to Tom Dixon and one of the other grooms who ran out of the stable to meet them. Without a word to the gentlemen, the young women dashed out of the courtyard toward the house.

“We aren’t going to make it to our rooms, Netia,” Vivian said woefully. Large splattering drops of rain were beginning to fall around them as they ran. A large clap of thunder sounded overhead, and although there was still a delay before the lightning flashed, this time it was brighter and more sustained.

“Oh God. All I wanted was to go riding for once, like a normal person.”

“Hush, not now, Vivi. Think, where else can we go that would be private, that’s nearer?”

“The chapel. Up in the gallery. No one goes up there.”

“That’s perfect,” Venetia answered, altering her course. The chapel even had its own entrance. “We’ll try that door. Pray to God that it isn’t locked.”

***

The twins hid in the chapel gallery while the storm rumbled and pelted the house with hail and rain. Vivian suffered a seizure as soon as they got there, but when she recovered, Venetia went to her and encouraged her to curl up beside her.

“Put your head in my lap,” she suggested. “I’ll cover your eyes with our skirts and maybe that will block out enough light to prevent any more attacks.”

Huddled on the floor, they talked quietly against the roar of the rain on the chapel roof.

“Why did I go?” Vivian said, her voice somewhat muffled by skirts. “Because Lord Ashurst invited me. I did not want to say no. Do you know how it feels to be left out so often? Can you imagine how I felt yesterday, watching everyone ride off for the race, knowing I could not go with you? I get so tired of being so careful—just for once I thought I could risk it. How was I to know the weather would break this morning? It has been so beautiful.”

“Shh. I know, Vivi. I don’t blame you. It’s just that you took such a risk. Even without the storm, you know that it was a terrible risk to take—you could have been hurt, but perhaps worse was the risk of exposing your epilepsy to Lord Ashurst. Who knows what he would have done? It is not like you to take such a gamble.”

We have both been acting out of character,
Venetia reflected, thinking of Vivian’s meeting with Cranford in the library, which she had yet to mention, and then considering rather guiltily that she herself had no plans to tell Vivian about Cranford’s kiss.

After an hour the storm faded away, and by then Vivian was fine. They were just making their way to the narrow twisting corner stair that led down from the gallery when they were startled to hear Cousin Adela’s voice below them.

“I see you both! I found you. Do I get double points?”

“Adela! Why, what do you mean, ‘double points’?”

“For finding two people at once. I’m on the hunters’ team.”

“Heavens,” said Venetia, thinking quickly.
The guests must be playing hide and seek because of the rain.
“How clever of you to find us. Is it a point per person? I should think you have earned two, even though we were in one hiding place.” She descended the stairs with Vivian behind her.

Adela giggled. “Not many people would think to look in here. But the person I’d most like to find is Lord Wistowe. Do you not think he is terribly clever?”

“Clever?” The twins exchanged a glance. “Handsome, at least.”

Adela sighed. “Anyway, I must take you back to headquarters to prove that I found you before I can go looking any further. Come along.”

Venetia put a reassuring hand on her sister’s shoulder. They would play along, for wherever “headquarters” might be, it was probably nearer to their own rooms. They desperately needed to change their clothes, for Vivian was still in her riding habit, and both of them were damp from the rain and now dusty from the chapel gallery. They both smelled of horses. As they walked through the rooms and corridors in the north wing with Adela, they heard the faint rumble of thunder again.

“Not another one,” whispered Vivian.

“I had forgotten, you don’t like storms, do you?” said Adela. “Well, it makes perfect weather to play games inside.”

“Why don’t we let Vivian go along to her room, Adela? I can vouch for the fact that you found both of us.”

Adela hesitated, “I don’t know if that is good enough, Netia. I should think I’d have to show you both.”

Venetia felt her patience waning. “Heavens, it is only a stupid game! I’ll give my solemn oath if I must. Do you go along, Vivi, and change into your white muslin—you know, the one with the French work and blue embroidery.”

She did not care if her cousin thought the conversation peculiar—if there were to be more storms in the coming hours, she would have to play two roles, and it was essential that she and Vivian dress alike. She hoped the hide-and-seek game would continue for some time, for it would certainly make her job easier. All she had to do now was make certain she had a chance to slip off to her own room to change as well.

Vivian fled up the nearest staircase, for thunder sounded again in the distance. Venetia went on with Adela to finish their business. As soon as she was free to hide, she, too, fled to her room, but only for the time it took to change her dress and check on her sister. Then she contemplated a true hiding place, wishing she knew what rules had been established. It suited her purposes to be found rather easily, since she needed to hide and be found twice as often as anyone else.

Lamps or candles blazed in many of the ground floor rooms, lit by dutiful servants. The guests, however, undid this work in many cases. The storms lent drama to the game and advantage to those in hiding, illuminating dark rooms with sudden startling brilliance only to plunge them into darkness again in seconds. For those in a position to watch, it created the peculiar effect of highlighting the movements of the seekers by fragments, showing one first at the entrance to a room, then halfway through it, next looking into an alcove or under a table, then gone.

Venetia watched several unsuccessful hunters pass through the long gallery in this fragmented fashion. She began to feel frustrated, as she was scarcely concealed behind one of her father’s prized Italian sculptures. It was finally Lord Wistowe who penetrated far enough into the room to find her there.

“Aha! I have found one of you,” he said as a flash of lightning lit the room. “Dammed if I know which one, but it cannot matter, eh?”

Venetia started to come out and was startled when he took one of her hands in his and put his other hand on her arm, pushing her back.

“Not yet, my lovely. Where is my reward for finding you?”

“What reward?” She felt uneasy, for he had stepped very close to her.

“Shy? Then it must be that I have captured the gentle lamb, Lady Vivian. I will be gentle, too, my pet.” He lowered his face toward hers and she realized that he meant to kiss her.

Who had set these rules? No one but him, she was certain. Did he think he would take advantage of her sister? She averted her face and pushed back with all her weight, catching him quite unprepared.

“Your mistake, Lord Wistowe. I am Lady Venetia, and you have captured no one.” It was the perfect exit line, but he recovered, his balance faster than she had expected. As she tried to slip past him, he seized her around the waist and pushed her roughly back into the corner by the statue.

“Minx! You’ll not escape that easily.” He laughed, but there was an edge to his laughter that she did not like. “Pay my reward, or pay a forfeit.”

“Which is?”

“Double my reward!” He claimed her lips quickly, before she could say more, kissing her hard and long. “Mm, I’ll take the forfeit, too,” he added then, without removing his mouth from hers. He probed with his tongue, and she was tempted to bite it. How dare he take such liberties? But he was still a guest, invited by her father. She held very still, waiting for him to finish. What would her father do if he knew about this?
I wonder if he would really care. He never shows his face except at dinner.

Lord Wistowe stepped back from her, looking pleased with himself and somehow expectant. What was she supposed to do? Swoon at his feet? Thank him? Her lips still tingled from the pressure of his mouth on hers, but not with pleasure as they had after Lord Cranford’s kiss.

“Well?”

Obviously she had to say something. “I think Lady Adela would be very pleased if you happened to find her. I can turn myself in, if you like.”

***

As the game continued against a stormy backdrop, Venetia became more adept at juggling the two roles she had to play. When it was her turn to be one of the hunters, she would hide quickly in an obvious place and make sure that another seeker found “Vivian.” Once “Vivian” had been sent off to hunt, Venetia would hastily find someone who was hiding and return in triumph as herself, pretending she had looked at length.

In both roles she was grateful for the advantage of knowing the house so much better than the other players. She knew every servants’ door and passageway, and could get from one place to another quickly and unseen. She knew the best hiding places and the worst ones, and used them all.

“Vivi’s an expert at hiding,” she informed some fellow hunters at a point when she could not get away to play her twin. “If she really puts her mind to it, you’ll never find her.”

At another point she enjoyed listening to Lord Amberton pour the butter boat over her while he thought she was Vivian. His complaints about Venetia’s lack of decorum and odd sense of humor were especially interesting. She would have to test if he still held those opinions sometime later when she was herself.

She counted herself fortunate that she did not run into Lord Cranford directly. She narrowly escaped him several times, ducking through a servants’ door or around a corner when she saw him coming. Nicholas would understand exactly what she was doing if he stopped long enough to consider, but she did not want to risk the chance that Cranford might realize, also. She also did not wish to face the questions he was liable to ask after this morning’s ride.

Her hope of avoiding him at least until she could have a word with Nicholas about him was dashed just as the game came to an end. Vivian was supposedly hiding, and Venetia was a hunter—it was the perfect opportunity to slip away to check on the real Vivian and see if she was up to rejoining the group. The series of storms had finally passed through, and fine, steady sunlight was streaming in the windows. As Venetia hurried through one of the drawing rooms, intent on reaching the south servants’ stairs, Cranford hailed her.

“Ha, Lady Vivian—caught in transit! I’m afraid you will have to come with me. You are one of the last ones still out—we are ending the game once we have collected everyone.”

Did he really take her for Vivian? He could hardly-have gotten a good look at her, so perhaps he did. Venetia was stymied. Should she point out his error, or go along with his assumption? As Vivian, she thought she might escape the difficult questions she knew he wished to ask. But if she returned with him now, how was she to retrieve Vivian from her room? She doubted that the game could end until both of the twins made their appearances. They might wait a very long time for a “Venetia” who had never been summoned.

“You know, you and I have some unfinished business,” he said in a low voice. “You did say on Monday that we could talk later.”

That was when she had been playing Vivian before. If only she had found out what was between him and her sister!

“Now is not the right time for a discussion, but perhaps we could meet later this afternoon?” he suggested.

Now she was in a coil. Would Vivian wish to make this appointment or not? He was waiting for an answer.

“All right,” she said softly, attempting to raise the pitch of her voice just slightly, like her sister’s. “Four o’clock, by the entrance to the walled garden.”

Venetia would deal with that problem then. What she needed to do now was escape. Her salvation came moments later when Lady Norbridge walked in on them.

“Ah, what have we here? Has Lord Cranford caught the elusive Lady Vivian? Or has she caught him? Or have I caught you both, now that the game is up? Perhaps it is Lady Venetia, after all. Come, you must confess all.” She laughed at her own cleverness.

“I have caught Lady Vivian fair and square,” Cranford began, turning to the countess. Venetia began to back away. “She is one of the last still out—I believe the others are looking for Lord Lindell.”