Page 11 of The Rake is Taken
“Go on, Blue,” she said, deciding to make it easier on him. Just this one time. “Go argue with your brother. Agnes and I will muddle along.”
He did one of those needless tugs on his waistcoat she was coming to realize meant he was struggling to gain control of a situation. Because he was perfectly pressed, as usual. “You have this, Piper? I’ll explain more later,” he said vaguely, his attention having again traveled to that lower window.
“This,” Victoria whispered as he stalked away without a backward glance. Now she was athis. Agnes harrumphed, clearly displeased by his insolence.
Lady Beauchamp had the perceptiveness to click her tongue against her teeth in chagrin. “I’m sorry my men are so rude today. Not unusual for Julian, I’m afraid, but I’ve never known Finn to be discourteous. Charm usually coats him like butter does toast. I can only say my husband has the power to scramble anyone’s designs with that quelling stare of his.” She stuck out her hand and laughed when Victoria stared at it, nonplussed. “I’m American. The incorrigible half anyway, which I’m sure you’ve heard. My official title is Viscountess Beauchamp, but everyone who counts calls me Piper.”
Victoria took Piper’s proffered hand, instantly liking the might behind the strange gesture and the petite woman standing before her. She was not American, but Victoria had been described as incorrigible many, many times. “Lady Victoria Hamilton, pleased to make your acquaintance. My father is the Earl of Hanschel, and Mr. Alexander and I....” She stumbled to a halt. How to explain? Her cheeks lit as she imagined what she was going to do when she got her hands on Finn, leaving her in the mortifying position of having to justify her presence to her hostess! She was going to parlor trick him to the devil, jumble his thoughts but good. Although her first attempt at that hadn’t ended well.
Agnes disrupted the awkward moment with the delicacy of a lit torch. “Get your eyes in your head, girl,” she said to a kitchen maid who stood with her mouth hanging open after having watched Finn cross the yard and enter the house. “A flibbertigibbet is what she is,” she whispered for Piper and Victoria alone.
“My dear,” Victoria murmured in agreement, “he needs no more adulation in this lifetime. Don’t make a cake of yourself. Too, you’re likely to swallow a fly.”
Piper wrapped her arm around her rounded tummy and bowed her head in delight as the maid gasped and hurried into the house. “Leave it to dear Finn to bring me such a welcome gift during what is turning out to be a dreadfully horrendous summer of incapacitation. I’m going to like you very much. And you actually shook my hand. That was a test. I’ve not had anyone accept yet!”
Victoria smiled without comment—because what could she rightfully say when everyone knew you had to agree with expectant mothers on all counts—and followed Piper across the sloping lawn, Agnes trailing at their heels. The reason for the splatters on Julian Alexander’s clothing and hands was apparent as soon as the front door closed behind them. The viscount was an artist, and his artwork lined the walls of the foyer and hallway in a scattered arrangement no museum would ever duplicate. It was a colorful explosion that fit the house, and the spitfire viscountess, well.
“These are like the paintings at the Blue Moon,” Victoria said and crossed to study them. Vibrant landscapes and London street scenes laid out in bold strokes and a strikingly modern style, they were skillfully crafted.
Piper stumbled to a halt. “You’ve been to the Blue Moon?”
Victoria’s breath caught.Oh, that did not sound good. Why would a lady,anylady, have seen the inside of a gambling establishment? “You misunderstand, I’m not one of Mr. Alexander’s…” She shook her head, searching for the word, mortification heating her cheeks.
“Doxies,” Piper supplied with a laugh she tried valiantly to smother.
“Lightskirts,” Agnes chimed in with.
“Paramour might be more apt. Or mistress.” Her hostess’s sputter of delight brought to mind the rumors about Lady Beauchamp and her scant regard for propriety. “Of which I’m neither.”
We’re friends, Victoria wished to add, but the statement sounded ridiculous. When had a woman of her station befriended a man of Finn Alexander’s? And they weren’t friends, at least not yet. Friends didn’t orbit each other like fighters who’d unexpectantly been shoved into the same ring. Unnerved, she blurted, “He’s been dreaming about me. Then I twisted his thoughts at Lord Samuelson’s gathering, for a moment only, because it didn’t really work, which is most unusual. He knew I’d done something, like a pinch to his skin, when no one ever does. My parlor trick, I call it. I steal little chunks of time. But it’s more than a parlor trick or…so…he…thinks…” Her words faded as color leeched from Piper’s face. Her hand went out to grasp the wall in support.
“Cor, girl, did you have to bring up your silly prank,” Agnes snapped and grabbed Piper’s arm, settling her on a threadbare settee that should’ve been tucked in a bedchamber above stairs. Or in the servants quarters below. “There, there, my lady, don’t listen to my charge’s foolish ramblings.”
“If you faint because of what I admitted, he’ll be vexed with me,” Victoria pleaded, fanning Piper’s face. Finn had spoken of his sister-in-law in extremely protective terms, brooking no question about his strong feelings for her or his family. Dodging them by hiding out in London or not, which she believed he was doing.
“I’m a healer,” Piper murmured, disclosing her own secret. Her eyes were serene when they met Victoria’s. “And I see auras. Imagine witnessing someone’s mood surrounding them, a visual cloud as colorful as Julian’s paintings.” She shrugged, offering a plucky smile. “I can’t see yours, which has only happened once before. I’m quite astonished to imagine why.”
“I don’t know what that means.” Victoria dropped to her knee before the viscountess, leveling their gazes. “I don’t know what any of this means.”
“He’s never brought anyone home,” Piper whispered, so softly Victoria wondered if she was admitting this only to herself. “And his dreams…”
“Will you explain them to me? What’s special about Harbingdon? Why I’m here?”
Piper moistened her lips, shook her head. “Finn has to do that, I think. But I will tell you, you’re surrounded by others with gifts. Everyone on this estate, in fact. Which makes for an admittedly interesting family. You’ll be accepted here as you’ve never been anywhere else. As you’ll neverbeanywhere else. You, my dear, are finally safe. We can protect you.”
“Gift?” Victoria rocked back on her heels. “I don’t have a gift. It’s harmless. A meaningless bit of trickery.” Her fingers twisted in her skirt. “Safe from what? No one knows about me. No one…cares about me.”
“A silly prank,” Agnes repeated in an urgent whisper. “Always just a silly prank.”
“Then why is he dreaming about you?”
Victoria’s cheeks flushed as her mind went in a base direction, fashioning images of Finn tangled in silk sheets, looking as endearingly rumpled as when he’d answered the door at the Blue Moon.No. Although she didn’t know the details, his dreams were not sensual ones. The man could have anyone in England,anyone, at least for the night. He certainly wasn’t attracted to her.
“Something tragic happened to a friend, and he’s not been able to recover.” Piper squeezed her hand, an impassioned plea. “Maybe there’s a reason for your bond, as there often is in our world. For the patient woman, there’s a wonderful, sensitive man beneath the charming patina.”
Victoria’s heart tripped, the revelation landing squarely on her chest, attracting her when she needed no lure. She’d never been able to trust any man aside from her brother, and he was gone. No one in her life needed her. She was a disposable commodity, a book placed on a shelf and forgotten—until the need for funds had arisen. A push into a bleak future without any care for whatshewanted from her life.
She was utterly alone in this world.