Lady Forsaken Box Set (Books 1 - 5), page 7
That would be a disaster of epic proportions.
“I’m sure that will not be necessary—” Lord Haversham started again.
“My lord, you are a busy man and I do not seek to waste more of your time. Mr. Cale can accompany you to ensure the younger foals adjust to life on your estate.” Vi turned to Connor, hoping her discomfort would be attributed to her busyness. Surely the stable master couldn’t guess that she was squirming at the memory of Brock’s lips pressed firmly against hers. “Please, ready the foals. Lord Haversham has a long journey in front of him.”
She kept her eyes firmly on Connor, for fear every person in the room would see straight through her ruse.
“We will help prepare to leave.” Lord Haversham nodded in Mr. Jakeston’s direction.
Viola felt the pressure leave the room as Connor, Brock, and Mr. Jakeston filed out. Only Mr. Swiftenberg remained. Again, Vi had the feeling she’d met the man before, but she couldn’t place him. If they had met at a ball or the opera years ago surely, he’d not remember her.
He too moved toward the door, as if to follow the other men out.
Vi sank into her chair and lowered her head into her hands, propped on her desk. She needed a few minutes to compose herself. Her fingers itched to touch her still-swollen lips. Ever since her first encounter with Brock, nothing had gone as she’d wanted or planned.
Instead, she heard the door shut and the lock moved into place with a deafening click.
She lifted her head from her hands.
“Well, well, well. I’d always wondered what happened to you.” Mr. Swiftenberg didn’t turn, but kept his back to her.
Realization dawned in the next instant. Morning fog . . . gun shots . . . I assure you there has been no mistake made this day. His clothes were different now, but his arrogance was the same as she remembered.
“Did you think I would not recognize you? Tsk, tsk. It has not been so many years—”
Vi’s eyes narrowed. Would she be able to intimidate him into silence? She had to convince him to keep her secret.
“Lady Viola Oberbrook.” Swiftenberg pivoted from the door and bowed in her direction. “I am unsure I can say it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance again, but at least you haven’t caused any innocent men to lose their lives this day.”
“You must be mistaken—” Vi stood from her chair. The plea in her voice was unmistakable, even to herself.
“Believe me, I sincerely wish I was mistaken.” Mr. Swiftenberg—Rodney—strolled across the office and around her desk, his pace agonizingly slow, until they were toe to toe. “I want you to stay away from my cousin.”
“Do you think this was my plan? To ever again come face to face with a member of your family?”
“You have always been a conniving, scheming wench!”
Vi drew back at the venom in his voice. “I want nothing to do with Bro—Lord Haversham. I only want him to collect his foals and be gone.” Her hands shook, her legs ready to give out beneath her.
Rodney spun around on his heels and his hand flew to his head, pulling through his immaculate hair. “I do not need you complicating things for me at this juncture. I am so close!”
“Close to what?”
“This was not supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.” The man appeared to be coming unhinged.
“Whatever are you talking about?” Vi asked.
“I am talking about my estate, my title, and my inheritance!” With each ‘my’ his finger jabbed into his chest.
“You think I invited him here? That I want to drag out my past?” The questions rushed from her lips, but Rodney gave no indication he heard or comprehended a word she spoke. “Please, do not tell him who I am!”
“I fear I have no other option but to expose you.” Rodney paced in front of Vi’s desk. “He is interested in you. Why else would he hurry back here so quickly, other than to see the beautiful Lady Posey Hale?”
“Impossible . . .” But even as she protested, she pictured Brock’s form fitted perfectly against hers.
“Impossible that he is infatuated with you? Or impossible that he cannot recognize the woman responsible for his beloved brothers’ deaths?” Rodney laughed.
A chill crept up Vi’s spine. Her secret was close to being exposed. The life she’d built since that day—the day that would be forever branded into her very being—would be ripped from her. “I will not entertain his interest, nor do I plan to return to society. Ever.”
“The bell of the ball doesn’t wish to be the center of attention again? Please! Things cannot change. People do not change.”
“I have not attended a ball in eight years. Regardless of what you think, I have changed.”
“Highly unlikely.” He stopped his pacing and confronted her where she sat in her desk chair.
Life as she knew it was slipping from her grasp. If she were publicized as the owner of Foldger’s Foals, her father would follow through with his threat to sell her stables and return her to a life of idleness. A life filled only with needlepoint and the occasional visits from family members. Only more appalling than this was the many she would be unable to continue helping.
A part of her considered the flip side of the coin. Maybe she did owe it to Brock and his family to pay retribution for the sins committed against them. The sins she alone was responsible for. Was it not Brock’s right to punish her as he saw fit, regardless of whatever penance she may already have paid?
Could repenting lessen the weight on her soul?
Perhaps the time had come for her to confess her sins. Instead, she asked, “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to stay away from Brock. After today, I want you to act as if you’ve never met the man.”
“Done.” Why did a piece of her rebel at this agreement?
“No, you will take this one step further. If he tries to contact you—which I have no doubt he will do—you’ll ignore his correspondence. Rebuff any advances he might make in the future.” Rodney’s posture straightened, his confidence returning. “Yes, this will suit me just fine.”
“Whatever you want. But please, remove yourself from my office. I feel I’m a bit under the weather and wish to rest a spell.”
Rodney nodded. “That is perfect. I will give the men your regrets at not attending us at our departure.”
“Say as you wish.”
A satisfied smile spread across his face. “Until . . . never, Lady Posey Hale. I have thoroughly enjoyed our conversation.” With a bow in her direction, Rodney turned and unlocked the door, flinging it wide on its hinges.
Chapter 7
“There you are.”
Viola raised her head from the desk, where it lay cradled in the crook of her arm. She blinked a few times to clear the sleep from her eyes. How had she fallen asleep?
“You did not come back to the house for luncheon and I worried,” Ruby continued as she entered the office, her lavender day dress moving fluidly around her legs. “But now I see why missing a meal was agreeable to you.”
“Whatever are you going on about?” Vi rubbed her palms against her eyes. “It seems I fell asleep.”
“Have you been crying?” Ruby’s hands came to rest on her hips. A stance Vi had become very familiar with over the years.
“No, I have not been crying—”
“Do not lie to me, Viola Oberbrook! Your eyes are red and swollen, so unless you have been rolling around in the hay barn, you have indeed been crying.”
Vi had long been unable to keep anything from Ruby. “Do not worry overly much. I am a bit burdened with the financial situation of Foldger’s Foals is all.” Which wasn’t a complete lie, but would move Ruby’s concerns in another direction.
Ruby’s hands fell from her hips and she embraced Vi. “I knew the situation was worrisome, but not this dire. We will have to apply ourselves to finding a solution.”
“That is exactly what I need to do.” Vi did need a solution, but not to the problem Ruby suspected.
Ruby sat in the chair opposite Vi. “Now, who are the men gathering the foals from the pasture? There is a fellow gallivanting about in a set of yellow pantaloons!” Ruby raised an eyebrow. “I did not think you expected another client until next week.”
“That, dear friend, would be Lord Haversham, his cousin, and Mr. Harold Jakeston.” She debated how much to tell Ruby. It was senseless to have both of them worrying about Rodney’s threat. “They arrived early to transport the foals to Haversham House.”
“Did he come for the foals or to see you?”
The girl was a perceptive one. “Do not be mad.” Vi glanced behind Ruby and out the only window in the room. “They are returning. Do you think we can slip out and back to the estate without notice?”
Ruby stood and turned toward the window. “I fear not. They are headed this way. Our best option is to hunker down in here. Who did you say the other man with Lord Haversham is? He looks vaguely familiar.” She approached the window to gain a better view.
How would Ruby know Rodney? Heat moved to Vi’s face. “The man in the yellow is—”
“No, no. Not him. The other gentleman.” Ruby’s nose was about pressed to the glass. “The tall, lanky one.”
“Ummm, I believe he was introduced as Mr. Jakeston. No title and no residence given.” The tension in her body eased a bit, although her body remained alert.
“Jakeston . . . Jakeston. The name is oddly familiar.”
“Seems everyone is oddly familiar nowadays.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Not a thing, not a thing.” Vi waved off the comment.
“You are acting peculiar today.”
“I’m doing no such thing!”
Ruby turned from the window. “Looks to me as if they are preparing to depart.”
“Are you certain?” Vi stood and moved to have her own look out the window.
“I may not own a ranch or train horses, but they seem to be mounting their steeds with young foals in tow.” Ruby turned a sarcastic smile on Vi.
“Your wit shines brighter than a certain pair of ocher breeches.” Vi gazed out the window. “I have never taken you for a fool.”
“I would hope not. Now, let us sit. It would not serve you well to be caught watching Lord Haversham as he departs. One might think you will miss him.” Ruby regained her seat.
“One would be utterly mistaken to hold that delusion as truth.” Vi glided back to her desk as nonchalantly as possible. It would not do to have her friend worrying that she would run off to town after a man.
Now, where had that thought come from?
For the first time, Viola noticed a small basket on the edge of her desk. “What have you brought?” she asked, easing into her seat.
“Just a spot of cheese and bread. As I said, I worried when you did not return for luncheon. I do know how you despise missing a meal.”
“It is not that I fear missing a meal, but that I work hard.”
Ruby retrieved the basket and spread their bounty between them. “It is no secret how hard you work.”
“If memory serves, you do not take kindly to skipping a meal, either,” Vi teased back. She tore a chunk of bread from the loaf between them and paired it with a bite of cheese. Popping it into her mouth, she couldn’t help but remember that meal long ago when Ruby had first come to her. It had been Vi’s darkest hour, alone at her father’s country estate for nigh a year with little company but the servants and Connor. She’d been in need of a friend—someone to instill hope that the future held something, anything, for her. The utter despair and isolation had nearly driven her mad. If her father hadn’t insisted she remain in the country, she would have foolishly fled back to London and faced down the society that had shunned her. Alas, she’d been broken—had not been ready then, and she feared she might never be ready.
Cursed shouting and the nervous neighs of a foal shook Vi from the bittersweet memory of her past.
“Whatever is that noise?” Vi—food forgotten—rushed to the window, Ruby on her heals.
“If not for his yellow breeches, I fear there would be a full moon on display in the middle of the day,” Ruby said over her shoulder with a laugh.
Rodney lay on the ground next to his horse, his tawny clad arse facing Viola’s office window. Lord Haversham’s newly acquired foal pranced nervously about the fallen man.
Viola rushed to the door.
“What are you doing?” Ruby called behind her.
“My foal. One may be hurt. I must help calm them.” Sunlight blinded Vi as she rushed into the stable yard and utter chaos. Hooves flew when one horse bucked its hind legs, only to cause another delicate young colt to rear up, its slender-but-lethal feet clawing at the air above Brock's head. Neighing, another foal nipped at the flank of the rearing horse.
Viola rushed into the storm toward Brock, who was caught in the middle of the fray.
To her surprise, he reached out and snagged one of the bridles and then a second, reducing the horses’ range of movement. With two foals calmed, Viola turned to assess the remaining danger. On the far side of the commotion, Alexander also sought to soothe the horses. Vi relaxed a bit and slowed her pace as she approached the frightened animals.
“Apple . . . Pixie . . . Gunther,” she whispered. Three small heads turned her way as the three foals closest to her settled down. “Come!”
The trio hesitantly walked in her direction as Alexander grabbed the harnesses of the remaining foals. All three animals at her side, Vi turned a menacing stare on Connor as he attempted to help Rodney up from the ground.
“We make a good team, you and I.” The words were whispered in her ear, and goose pimples immediately rose on her arms.
Brock stood at her shoulder, two harnesses attached to two wild-eyed colts in hand.
“There would have been no occasion for such dangerous teamwork if Mr. Cale had been doing his job properly,” Viola scolded, addressing Connor while keeping her gaze safely away from Lord Haversham. “You do realize the danger you put both these men and the horses in?”
“I apologize for the disruption.” Connor held the flailing Rodney under his arms in an attempt to get the man back on his slightly heeled boots as they slid out from beneath him.
Rodney sunk back to the ground with a “Humph!” He kicked out his foot in irritation, catching the hoof of Brock’s horse with his wooden boot heel as he made to stand once more.
As if to return the insult, the horse stepped back and right onto the toe of Rodney’s black boot. A howl of pain rent the air as Rodney tugged his foot free. “You mangy—”
Vi ignored the chaos even as Lord Haversham looked on, smirking, from his own mount. “Whatever happened?” she demanded, looking from Connor to Rodney and on to Lord Haversham.
“Why, I never—” Rodney started.
Not waiting for a reply, she spoke to Alexander. “Remove the foals. I will call for them once this situation is under control.”
Lord Haversham handed his reins to Mr. Jakeston, who had also dismounted. “I apologize for my cousin’s ineptness in the saddle, Lady Posey.”
“My ineptness?” Rodney screeched.
“Do you realize one of the foals could have severely hurt themselves or another of the animals in this frenzy?” She hoped her menacing stare burned a hole right through him.
“I assure you we—”
“Do not assure me of anything, my lord,” Vi shot in his direction. “The first thing you must learn about these animals is that they are easily excited. When in a group, that excitement will quickly turn to fear, which in turn incites them to either fight or flee.”
She couldn’t help but wonder if her flight from London was similar to the spectacle that had just played out in front of her. Like her foals, she’d run at the first sign of danger, incited by her father’s rage and embarrassment—just as one horse’s rearing had caused another to buck. Would she have the same reaction now, or would she stand and fight, even if it meant admitting her faults to one and all?
“Do you believe I am an ignoramus who has no skill with horses? I will have you know I led a cavalry of forty soldiers on horseback against Napoleon himself. I am versed in the art of calming horses,” Brock said coolly.
The statement caught her off guard. Vi had known he’d participated in the war against the French, but as an active soldier? She’d envisioned him ensconced in an encampment far from the dangers of death or maiming. “My apologies, my lord. I was unaware of your history and concerned for my animals.” She took a step back, but kept her eyes firmly trained on Lord Haversham.
“Do you not mean ‘my’ animals?” he asked. “If memory serves, you have a fat sack of coin sitting upon your desk.”
She’d never had a hard time letting her colts go. That was the nature of her business, after all. “I stand corrected, my lord.” Her words were said through gritted teeth. True, he had paid—and handsomely—for the foals, but deep down, they were still her babies. She’d cared for each and every one of them since their births.
Ruby cleared her throat.
“Ah, pardon my rudeness. This is my companion, Miss Ruby—”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, my lord,” Ruby cut Viola off. She lifted her skirt and curtsied to Brock.
What was she thinking? If she’d shared Ruby’s last name, Lord Haversham would have surely made the connection to his country estate. Thankfully, Ruby was in command of her wits.
“The pleasure is mine, I assure you.” Brock bowed to Ruby, but kept his eyes on Vi. “May I introduce my cousin, Mr. Rodney Swiftenberg and my friend, Mr. Harold Jakeston.”
“How do you do, gentlemen,” Ruby stated with all the grace and poise of a regular lady of the ton.
Mr. Jakeston stared at Ruby in a most peculiar way, just as Ruby had eyed him from the office window. Did the two indeed know each other? It was quite possible Rodney did not need to fear Vi would announce her true identity, but that Ruby would be the one recognized by Lord Haversham or Jakeston.
