Lady Thorn
Mary immediately recovered herself enough to form an equally formal rejoinder. “As am I… Mr. McBride.” The brief glance she cast toward Victoria from the corner of her eye told the taller woman that she would indeed have much to say when they were alone.
Victoria motioned self-consciously toward the table, which had been laid with her grandmother’s favorite silver and the Dresden china. “Please, won’t you sit down?” She went to the head of the table.
Even as Mary took the seat to her left, Victoria could feel her penetrating gaze. Victoria deliberately trained her attention on Jedidiah. Facing him proved only slightly less uncomfortable than facing Mary. He was watching her with that one mocking brow arched over his right eye.
For some reason, Victoria had the distinct feeling that he was aware of her discomfort with the situation and was amused by it. That prickled, and she raised her chin in regal defiance.
No matter how uncomfortable this meal became, she would not allow Jedidiah McBride to get the best of her. Or, at least, she amended as he smiled and her heart skipped in response, she would not allow him to know that he had.
Jedidiah studied the two women while trying to appear not to. Victoria appeared to be completely occupied with filling her plate from the silver dishes that were presented to each of them in turn. The one Victoria had introduced as Mary seemed equally interested in him.
She smiled at him openly when she caught him glancing her way, and he could not help smiling in return. There was something very refreshing about the pretty woman, with her golden-brown hair and her eyes the color of a chunk of African amber he had once seen. There seemed not the slightest hint of artifice or pretension in her. “So, Mr. McBride,” she began without hesitation, her curiosity apparent. “How long have you been in England?”
Taking a sip of the wine that had been poured into the crystal glass in front of him, Jed smiled. “Two days.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “I wonder, is it very different from where you are from?”
He could feel Victoria’s gaze upon him as he answered, “I am not really from anywhere. I live on my ship, the Summerwind. You could say that I am based out of Bridgeport, Connecticut. That is where our shipping firm, Cook and McBride, is located.”
“Our?” she asked.
Jed scowled. He wasn’t sure now that he wanted to answer all these questions, didn’t want this situation to become personal. He glanced over at Victoria, and the way she was watching him made him wonder if she knew of his reluctance to talk about himself.
“Well?” Mary prodded unashamedly.
Jed told himself it didn’t matter if they knew some things about him. It wouldn’t really change anything. He and Victoria Thorn had a business arrangement, but he continued to be aware of her intent gaze as he went on. “‘Our’ refers to myself and my partner Peter Cook. His father, Sebastian, was the founder of Cook Shipbuilding. I… When I was eighteen, I went to work for them in the factory. As the years passed, the firm wasn’t doing well. The type of vessel they were producing was being phased out by the advent of the steamship. I, well…I came up with a design that Sebastian claimed brought them out of the red. It was a sailing ship with a large hold, but a narrower hull that increased its speed. When Sebastian died…” He hesitated for a moment as he thought of the kindness of the man and how good he had been to him. “When he died, he was generous enough to leave me a half interest in the business.”
Mary watched him with round eyes. “You relate it all so modestly Mr. McBride. Surely you are quite brilliant to have come up with such a design. How proud you must be.”
Jed could not restrain a satisfied nod as he thought of the ships. “Those ships are beauties, all right. Peter and I own the first two of that model, the Summerwind and her sister, the Winterwind.” Building those ships, having Sebastian and his family accept him, those things had changed Jed’s life. Yet he’d never quite gotten over feeling as if he were an interloper, no matter how they behaved differently.
And the Cooks had come to accept him on his terms, understanding that he could not allow himself to come too close to anyone. That would all change now that he had a son. His child would be the recipient of the love he had kept locked inside himself.
He looked up then, with a self-conscious expression, feeling as if he had already given away too much. “Enough about me, Miss Fulton. Why don’t you tell me something about yourself?” He smiled at her with as much charm as he could summon up.
He was surprised to hear her laugh. “Why, Mr. McBride, are you trying to change the subject?”
This time he could not restrain a genuine grin. “Yes, Miss Fulton, I am.”
Her eyes sparkled as she replied. “Then I shall allow you to do so.”
His gaze went to Victoria, who had said nothing throughout the exchange, simply listening with avid interest. When their gazes met, she flushed and turned her attention to her meal. As he looked at her, he realized that though he found Mary Fulton quite attractive, with her delicate features and direct gaze, she seemed somehow to fade next to the regal beauty of Victoria Thorn. This realization did not please Jed in the least.
He had no desire to find Victoria Thorn exceptional in any way. It was sheer madness on his part to do so. She represented everything he disdained, extreme wealth and social position, not to mention her titled status.
Yet he cast a surreptitious glance from her to Mary Fulton and back. Did the fact that this refreshing woman was Victoria’s friend say something about her? Something that gave lie to his beliefs?
This very morning, she had told him that not all aristocrats were the same. That they were both good and bad, like anyone else.
Jed gave himself a mental shake as he turned his attention to the roast pheasant on his plate. What Victoria said might have some validity where she was concerned, but he did not think for a moment that she was being truly honest with herself as far as her peers were concerned. The power and privilege of their circumstances held them above reproach.
And God help those who had not been born to that same lofty state. Or those who had been cast out for some perceived offense against the rules of society. Cast out and forgotten, no matter how young and foolish they might have been.
As his mother had been by her own family when she had fallen in love with and married his father.
Chapter Four
Victoria was apprised of Mr. Randsome’s arrival later that afternoon. She thanked the maid who came to inform her and sent her to fetch Jedidiah.
She hadn’t seen him since luncheon, when he had chatted so amiably with Mary. Jedidiah had been far less cryptic and jealous of his privacy than he appeared to be with her. Victoria was sure she would never have learned so much about him if Mary had not arrived for luncheon. He’d even come to the door with them when the vicar’s daughter left.
What she did not know was why this bothered her so much. Apparently without even trying, Jedidiah McBride was driving her to distraction. One moment he could be intractable and stubborn. The next he could be charming and attentive, as he had proved himself to be with Mary over the midday meal.
Victoria did not know when she had last heard her friend laugh so much, which of course was very welcome, considering the strain she was under, caring for her father. The reverend was not expected to recover from the consumption that had ravaged his once robust frame, and Mary worked tirelessly to keep him comfortable.
Why, then, did Victoria not feel more cheery?
Squaring her slender shoulders in preparation for the coming meeting with Jedidiah McBride, Victoria went directly to the green drawing room, where the tailor and an employee were waiting.
Mr. Randsome’s assistant had already taken the opportunity to lay out several lengths of fine fabric. They ranged in color from a subdued buff to a deep, vibrant blue. Victoria eyed the royal blue with a frown. For their purpose, she felt, it would be best that Jedidiah dress as conservatively as possible. They had no wish to draw too much attention to the sea captain. She very much hoped the stubborn man would not be bent on having the blue.
The very man she was thinking so uncharitably of made his appearance only a few moments later. Every time she saw him, Victoria was struck by his sheer masculine presence. He walked into every room as if he belonged there and was ready to take control of any situation. As before, Victoria found herself thinking how well his captain’s garb suited him. The snug-fitting black breeches hugged his lean hips, and the loosely cut black coat, with its gold buttons, gave him the freedom to move with that untamed grace that was so much a part of him.
As Jedidiah strode toward them, Victoria watched the tailor to gauge his reaction to the sea captain. If Mr. Rapdsome thought there was anything amiss with Jedidiah’s appearance, he made no comment. The only evidence of his curiosity was one raised brow as he seemed to size up the younger man.
When Jedidiah stopped before them, looking at the many bolts of fabric with a decided frown, she said hurriedly, “Mr…. Cousin Jedidiah, this is Mr. Randsome. As I told you, he was my own father’s tailor. I am sure he can be of assistance to you.”
She turned to the tailor with a smile. “Mr. McBride is my cousin from America.”
“America?” The older man looked to Jedidiah in obvious surprise.
“Yes.” She nodded emphatically. “It is a well-known fact that my Great-uncle Lionel went to America in search of adventure.” She turned to Jedidiah with a forced smile. “My cousin has journeyed all this way to find his family. I hope he is not too disappointed at discovering that I am the only remaining Thorn.”
Jedidiah answered quickly, his gaze catching hers with an expression she could not name. “Not at all, Cousin… ‘Victoria.” Her name on his lips had a strangely intimate sound that she had not expected and left her feeling somewhat vulnerable.
She dragged her eyes from his and looked to the tailor once more. “My… cousin will need some new things. You see, we are going up to London for what remains of the season. I am most anxious to introduce him to society.”
Jedidiah made a soft noise that sounded like a choking cough, and Victoria had the distinct impression that he was laughing at her. And for some unexplainable reason she felt like joining him, though the feeling stemmed more from nervousness than from actual amusement. She could hardly believe herself, standing here lying as if she’d been born to it.
But it must be done. She’d known that from the beginning.
“I see.” Mr. Randsome nodded quickly, though he continued to watch Jedidiah with poorly concealed interest. “I’m sure I can help you with whatever you might require.” He gestured around them as he focused his attention on Victoria. “Your message said to bring some samples of cloth that would be suitable for a gentleman’s garments. I hope these meet with your approval.” He turned to Jedidiah and bowed politely, making a better show of containing his curiosity. “And yours, sir.”
Victoria replied with equal civility, though she could feel the force of Jedidiah’s resistance. Clearly he was still not happy with the notion of purchasing clothing to wear in London. Yet something told Victoria he would not admit to this. Jedidiah McBride seemed a man of his word, and he had agreed to do this. It would be done.
As if he had read her mind, the American came farther into the room, his features set with determination.
The next few minutes passed in surprising tranquillity. Victoria did not try to lead Jedidiah in his choice of fabric. He just seemed to prefer the more subdued colors himself.
In point of fact, he chose only dark colors when he began. It was Mr. Randsome who suggested some of the lighter tones, to add contrast to his new garments.
Jedidiah seemed uncharacteristically content to follow the older man’s lead. Only a short time had passed before they began choosing specific cuts of jackets and trousers from the sketches Mr. Randsome and his assistant had brought with them.
Victoria was beginning to feel she did not have to be there at all. There was other work she was neglecting. Still, she stayed on in case she was needed. Not because she liked seeing Jedidiah relaxed and as at ease as he seemed now with Mr. Randsome. Not because she liked the deep sound of his voice as he talked. Not because of the way the light gilded his hair every time he passed in front of the tall windows.
It was not until the tailor began to speak of the quantity of coats and other clothing that Jedidiah balked, shaking his head. “I will not require so many coats, nor—”
She interrupted, addressing Mr. Randsome directly. “We will take all of those items you mentioned, and a riding jacket of the dark gray, as well.”
The American swung around to Victoria with a forbidding scowl. “Do you realize that you have ordered fifteen coats in all?”
Victoria turned from speaking to Mr. Randsome, with a frown of her own. The very fact that she had been surprised by his ready compliance with everything thus far had left Victoria somewhat prepared for this reaction.
Yet she could not help feeling frustrated by it. She had no wish to discuss this in front of the tailor. She tried to answer with careful courtesy. “Yes, of course, Mr…. Cousin.”
He shook his head. “That is too many.”
Victoria could feel the interest of both Mr. Randsome and his assistant. She moved closer to Jedidiah, telling herself that he was likely very pleased to have found something to disagree with her about. She answered him through tight lips. “Please, Cousin, might we discuss this later?” She raised her eyebrows meaningfully.
Jedidiah McBride paid her signals no heed. He only looked down at her with clear disapproval, his own brows raised in reaction to her expression. “I will not have it, Lady Victoria.”
She forgot the other two men, in her amazement at those words. Victoria was not in the least accustomed to being spoken to that way. She sucked in a deep breath, raising her chin. “You… you will not have it.”
To her utter stupefaction, his reaction was to take her by the arm as he addressed the two men. “Excuse us for just a moment.” Jedidiah then half pulled her to the other side of the room, next to one of the tall windows. So shocked was she that Victoria made no effort to resist him.
But as soon as they came to a stop with the long brocade drape partially blocking her view of the room, she recovered herself enough to jerk her arm from his grasp. “How dare you!”
He stared down at her in abject surprise. “How dare I?”
She resisted the urge to rub the spot where his fingers had held her. “You are not to lay your hands upon me again.”
Jedidiah had the grace to appear chagrined. “I…” His lips thinned, and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It was clear that it cost him dear to admit, “You are right, I had no reason to grab your arm. I only wanted you to listen to me.”
Now that Jedidiah seemed to have found his right mind once more, Victoria, too, began to calm down. As she looked up at him and into his stormy green eyes, she realized that she was not really angry. In fact, what she was feeling was a very different emotion. One she would not even hazard to try to name. The tightness in her breast, the thumping of her heart and the quickening of her breathing were all clear signs of this unknown emotion.
It was quite unusual for anyone to even dare raise his voice to her, let alone physically lead her about. Jedidiah had not actually hurt her, and for some reason his resistance only gave her a stronger sense of respect for him. Her position meant nothing to the tall, lean man. He thought of her as nothing more than a woman who had driven him to the point of forgetting himself.
Victoria could not help liking the notion of being thought of as a woman. For was she not just that?
She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, her gaze grazing the lean line of his jaw, the irate curve of his supple lips, his straight nose, those stormy green eyes. He really was very handsome, this proud sea captain of hers. She stopped herself, glancing away from him even as the words formed in her mind. Jedidiah was not now, nor would he ever be, hers.
Victoria’s gaze came to rest on Mr. Randsome’s assistant, who was now openly peering at them from across the room. Dear heaven, but they were making a spectacle of themselves.
Chancing another glance up at Jedidiah from beneath her dark lashes, she saw that he, too, had noticed how the other men were staring. He scowled with chagrin.
Biting her lip, Victoria took a deep breath before whispering, “Mr. McBride, I realize that it might appear as if I am being overly extravagant.” Her gaze locked on his, her eyes pleading with him to heed her. “I assure you that I am not. When we go to London, we will be attending many social gatherings. It is the only way I am to meet a man so that I may marry. It is equally important for you to accompany me in order to search for your child. You do recall that those reasons are why you are here? Why we are going?” She halted, feeling unexpectedly cheerless at the idea of her future marriage. A fact that puzzled her greatly, for it was unlike Victoria to bemoan her fate once she had accepted it.
She brushed the thoughts aside, concentrating on the moment as she willed Jedidiah to see her position. “You must have the proper clothing to take me to these social gatherings. It would not do for you to be seen in the same coat day after day, or even from morning to evening. Have you forgotten you are my cousin? You must appear to be so in all things, in order to remain in my household without the benefit of some other chaperon. It is absolutely necessary for everyone to accept you as who we say you are.”
He continued to stare down at her, but Victoria could see the wavering in his eyes. Then, as he stood there, a strange sort of light came into those compelling eyes, and for a heart-stopping moment, Victoria nearly forgot that they weren’t alone.
He smiled, a slow, knowing smile. “Very well, then… Victoria.”
It took her a moment to realize that this was the second time he had called her by her Christian name. It was even more intimate in tone when he said it so deliberately. No one besides Mary called her Victoria.
Then she was distracted by that light that was still there in his eyes. She pursed her lips, wondering what had brought it on. He answered her unspoken question mockingly. “I suggest that you call me Jed, even when we are alone. That is what I usually go by.”
She blushed. Really, he was going too far. The nickname was just too familiar, especially without the appellation “cousin” to formalize it. And there was no need, when no one was around to hear them. “I could not—”
He stopped her with a raised hand. “Haven’t you just said that I am to appear to be your cousin? That we can’t do anything to make anyone doubt I am what you tell them I am?”
She frowned, feeling as if she had just stepped into quicksand. “Yes, but—”
He interrupted again, though politely. “Please, excuse me. Do you really think people will be convinced that I am your cousin if you go around calling me Mr. McBride, which you do most of the time? It’s just a bit formal for such a close family tie. If you call me by my given name all the time, perhaps you’ll begin to remember.”
She bit her lip, realizing that he had her there. She really could not call him Mr. McBride. It would cause comment. But then, neither could she bring herself to call him Jed.
She could tell from the expression on his face that Jedidiah McBride felt he had found at least a small way of getting back at her for all the indignities he felt he was suffering at her hands. Victoria would not allow him to best her so easily. She smiled, and had the pleasure of seeing a trace of unease creep on to his face. “Very well, Cousin Jedidiah. You make a very valid point. We must learn to address one another less formally.”
He scowled down at her. “I prefer Jed.”
She raised her chin. “As I said, Cousin Jedidiah.” She then turned and moved across the room to the tailor and his assistant.
Jed watched Victoria with a pained expression as she flounced away from him, that slender backside of hers having the same effect on him that a rudely protruding tongue would have produced. Damn, but she was one stubborn woman.
He heard her telling Mr. Randsome he could make up everything they had discussed. Looking extremely pleased, the tailor hastily began to gather up his goods, as though he feared Jed might countermand her if he lingered. As he did so, the lady added, “And do remember that there will be a bonus for every garment that is ready by the beginning of next week. Anything that is finished after that should be sent directly to the London house.”
“Very good, my lady.” The tailor bowed.
Jed turned to look out the tall, narrow window, no longer interested in the exchange. He did not want to think about Victoria or his having given in to her. He did not want to admit that he had been pleasantly surprised to learn that the tailor had talked of elegant but conservative fabrics and clothing. The garments would be fashionable, but comfortable for Jed to wear.
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