Victoria's heart turned as she thought about the destitute lady being pushed onto the streets by Nightham's heir. She knew very well what that felt like.
Anger began to build inside her at Nightham's treatment of his mother. But she intended to remedy that. She would use her inheritance to help the lady. Though she knew her marriage to Nightham was still unclear, she desperately hoped the countess would let her stay at Nightham Manor until her marital status and Wendover’s threats were resolved.
She dare not return to the family townhouse. The danger of Lord Wendover returning was too great. She knew her family was probably devastated at her quick departure, and the thought of how the marquess would receive the news pressed heavily upon her conscience. Pride would force Lord Drakefield to look for her, for it certainly wouldn't be love.
She sighed and wiped a gloved hand across the dusty end table, wondering how the countess had taken her son's death.
Victoria had sent the lady a missive as soon as she had discovered the facts about Nightham and her inheritance. She had conveyed the entire episode to the countess, including her possible marriage with Charles, hoping the lady could forgive her. It was a risky undertaking, but she had felt at a complete loss after Drake had deceived her. She needed a place to hide.
"My dear, my dear."
Victoria stood as Lady Nightham walked into the room. She was a slender woman, with a dainty nose and a creamy complexion. Victoria, expecting a much older, more portly woman, realized that the countess had probably been the toast of the
ton
in her day. It was that blond hair, much like her son's, that made the countess appear almost angelic, even dressed in a black mourning gown.
The lady took Victoria's hands in hers, and there were tears in her eyes. "I received your letter, my dear, and am so sorry you were embroiled in one of my son's harebrained plots. He was a good boy, you know, but sometimes Charles would get himself in the worst scrapes. Always such a secretive child.
"I insist you stay with me until we have everything sorted out, my dear. I am certain if Charles had a special license, you were indeed married to him. However, I will have my own solicitor look into the matter, inconspicuously, of course. Whatever you wish, my dear."
Victoria fell into easy conversation with the lady and discovered that no provisions other than a small amount of money had been made for the frail lady after her son's death.
After a few minutes, tea and lemon squares were brought for refreshments. Victoria sat on the sofa, still apprehensive about staying, but she knew it was her only course of action.
"I do appreciate your generous offer, letting me stay with you while my aunt is still in the country," Victoria went on. "And though there still is the question of my marriage, I beg your forgiveness for the entire episode. If it were not for me—
"My dear," the lady interrupted, trying to set her mind at ease. "It was not your fault. Not at all. Though Charles was a selfish boy, I always loved him. And if you were truly married to him, then we will get along famously. I admit his death came as quite a shock to me. But the arrival of your letter picked up my spirits, because you see," she sniffed, "I find that I am no longer to be alone in this world."
Victoria felt the beginning of tears pricking her lids. "I'm overwhelmed with your kindness. But I must ask you not to say a word of my visit to anyone. At least for a few days."
The lady raised a curious brow. "You are in hiding then?"
Victoria placed her teacup on the sidetable. "Until I know whether I was married to your son, I find my life at a standstill. I need to consider my situation, without the influences of people I love telling me what to do. I know this may sound silly to you, but I beg you to allow me this time. I have told no one but my cousin of my, um, situation with Charles."
"Well, naturally, you can stay here, my dear. I can promise you my strictest confidence. There certainly is no need for you to leave. Though, I was hoping of having a few guests in honor of my daughter-in-law, which I truly believe you are, but it is a little too soon after my son's death to entertain. A year, you know." She sniffed and patted Victoria's hand. "I am so alone, but am terribly grateful you have come into my life."
A heaviness centered in Victoria's chest. She had made a terrible mistake going away with Nightham. If it were not for her, the man would be alive today, and this poor woman would still have her son, though a gambler he may be.
Victoria could only hope the countess would keep her word and not mention that she was staying here. She could not have her family know where she was, because she had no idea what the future would bring, especially in the form of Lord Wendover. But she knew it was only a matter of time before the marquess would find her. By then, she hoped to discover whether or not she had been married.
She felt somewhat relieved to know the countess would be discreetly looking into the matter with her solicitors. And Wendover could not blackmail her while she was gone. He would not dare do anything to William because she was his only hope.
After she figured out if she were married to Nightham, she would make her dealings with Wendover known to her aunt. Perhaps the duke could help her then. For it seemed the man was in love with Phoebe and nothing would deter him from breaking off their engagement, not even Victoria’s scandalous past.
She certainly could not tell Drake. There was no telling what he would do behind her back. She ached for his help, but she also knew she could not completely trust him. She did love him. She knew that now. But trust was another matter entirely.
"I will help you anyway I can, my dear," the countess said, dabbing her eyes. "I will send word to my solicitor posthaste. Now, I'm certain you are tired. Booster will show you to your chambers."
She waved her hand over the drawing room. "As you can see by my humble surroundings, my servants are few and far between. I have no maid to serve you. There is my housekeeper and my cook, and of course, Booster, but that is all. Nevertheless, if you need anything, anything at all, they would be only too happy to help."
The lady crumpled the handkerchief in her hand. "I can see we are going to get along famously, my dear. Thank you so much for telling me the truth. You cannot believe what a comfort you have been already."
Tears tightened Victoria's throat. She knew she had done the right thing in coming. "And I thank you for your understanding, Lady Nightham. Your generosity is overwhelming."
"Think nothing of it, my dear." She gave Victoria a tremulous smile. "Or should I say, daughter?"
Drake slammed his hand on top of his solicitor's desk. "Where the devil could she have gone?"
Wilkins adjusted his cravat. "She did have a good sum to spend, my lord."
"The lady has eighty thousand pounds at her disposal," James said with exasperation. "She could have gone anywhere."
Anywhere, Drake thought. She was a little magician in that department.
James and Fox had followed him to London. All three men had been there for one full week with no clue as to Victoria’s whereabouts. Back at Percy Hall, Drake had trouble controlling his anger at the groom when the story came out that Parks had known of Victoria's departure in the dowager's carriage. He would have shaken the poor man to death if not for his brother and Fox who had come to the man's rescue, pulling him from Parks in the nick of time.
"She could have gone anywhere," Fox piped in. "By Jove, even to the Continent."
Drake shot his friend an icy glare. "I will find her, and when I do, heaven help her or anyone else who helped her hide."
"I do have another suggestion, my lord," Wilkins offered. The three gentlemen turned with a jerk. "Lady Victoria's solicitor may be of some help. I have recently discovered who is in charge of her trust."
"Her solicitor?" Drake said, trying desperately to hold his temper.
"The name is Washington," Wilkins replied. "Washington and Sons, to be precise. Located a block from Hyde Park."
Drake repeated the name, snapping out his watch and replacing it with an irritated thrust.
Wilkins sank back into his chair. "As to the other matter, I have not been able to locate Wendover. The man has disappeared as well. He's in quite more debt than even you expected. I believe he wanted Lady Victoria's inheritance to cover his losses."
Drake's lips thinned as his mind raced with thoughts of Wendover intercepting Victoria. If the man had taken Victoria, he would kill him.
After leaving Wilkins, Drake directed his coachman to drive to the office of Washington and Sons. James and Fox had returned to the duke's London townhouse to inform Drake's father of the new information. Even Phoebe had removed to London, too horrified at Victoria's disappearance to even think of marriage to the duke—a situation that did not please the duke at all.
Drake pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. Now, he had some concrete reasons for why Victoria had left. But the threat of Wendover alone should not have made her flee. Why could she not trust him? Because he had gone behind her back, that's why. Even Nightham's treachery had affected her. Her father had failed her. Her uncle had failed her. Why should she trust any man at all?
The carriage finally pulled in front of a small, red brick building housing the office of Washington and Sons.
Drake strode past the front door, his expression grim.
"May I help you?" A stylish man in a dark brown waistcoat spoke from behind a grand mahogany desk.
"Mr. Washington?"
The man stood up, extending his hand. "At your service."
Drake made his introductions and squeezed the man's hand hard enough that he received all the
information
he needed. Drake easily discovered Victoria’s location. Relief coursed through him. He felt as if a steel weight had been lifted from his chest as he hopped into his waiting carriage.
It was lucky he'd made the trip to Washington's office. He had swiftly put a stop to any of her money departing from the credit she had with the bank. Once he told Washington that he was Victoria's
fiancé
and would give the final word on where the money went, the solicitor warily agreed.
Drake assured himself that he had not really threatened the man, he had just exercised his voice of authority. A very loud voice of authority.
It seemed that Nightham's mother, working through her own solicitor, had been taking large sums of money from Victoria's account. Victoria, the little fool, had given the lady full access to her trust fund via Washington and Sons. Ten thousand pounds had already been deducted from her credit.
Drake checked his timepiece, then stuffed it back into his pocket. Of all the places, he never once thought to look for her at Nightham Manor. What a fool he had been.
Nevertheless, he would have Victoria in his hands by sunup tomorrow.
Chapter Seventeen
T
he warm rays of the morning sunrise poured through Victoria's window waking her from a deep slumber. The sun seemed excessively bright as she pulled the pillow over her head. She didn't want to rise this early. There was no need. Life in the countess's house had proved to be quite dull.
But despite the monotonous existence, there was no other way she could think of to avoid Wendover, at least, not until she was sure of her marriage one way or another. She was still awaiting the news from Lady Nightham's solicitor regarding her situation with Charles. When Victoria learned the facts, she could then make a decision on what to do.
But the horrid thought of William dying like Nightham had made her sick to her stomach. And there was also Drake's life, too. She assured herself she had done the right thing. Staying here had bought her some time.