Moonspun Magic Read online

  “Aye, but his night will be pleasant enough.”

  “Not if he keeps drinking that vile swill.”

  “I daresay that the girl, Lindy, will know when he’s had enough.”

  Lindy, at that very moment, was gently prying the snifter from Rafael’s long fingers. “It grows late, Cap’n. Me feet are weary.”

  Rafael looked up at her, but his eyes didn’t range further north than her bosom. “And the rest of you, my girl?” His look was lazy, his voice drawling.

  She chuckled, and stroked her fingers over his jaw. “Ye come with me, me fine lad, and I’ll show ye.”

  As Rafael followed Lindy upstairs, he devoutly prayed that his major working parts wouldn’t shut down and leave him humiliated as well as drunk. Lindy paused a moment, turning to face him from the step above. His face was on a level with her bosom. He leaned forward and kissed the soft white flesh.

  “Ah,” said Lindy, and pressed his face close. He was right and randy, this lovely man. The moment he’d come into the Blue Boar, she’d known she wanted to bed him. It was the way he looked at her that made her know, simply know that he was a man who was generous with a woman, a man who enjoyed a woman’s body and her pleasure. The fact that he was one of the most beautiful men she’d ever served unwatered brandy to made her leap of faith final. His body, she had observed during the long evening, would be as magnificent as his silver-gray eyes. Ah, yes, she would enjoy him thoroughly.

  She smiled as she slid her hand down his body. When her fingers closed about him, she said softly, with immense satisfaction, “Aye, ye are a divil.”

  Elaine Carstairs, Baroness Drago, looked at her younger cousin across the breakfast table. It was an altogether lovely morning, the sun bright, a nip of fall briskness in the air. “What is wrong with you, Victoria? You are always up beforetimes. Is there something you wish from me?”

  It was late, Victoria knew, and Elaine, now six months pregnant, didn’t rise until at least ten o’clock in the morning. And Victoria had waited in her locked room until she guessed Elaine would be in the breakfast room.

  “Well, Victoria?”

  Yes, Victoria wanted to shout at her suddenly, I want you to keep your husband away from me. But she only shook her head and bit into her now-cold slice of toast.

  “I must say that you don’t look yourself. I am the one increasing, and here you are with shadows under your eyes looking quite awful. I hope you aren’t sickening with anything.”

  How to tell her cousin that she hadn’t slept, that fear of Damien had made her cower like a helpless creature in her bed, afraid even to answer the maid’s knock.

  “I trust you are well enough to take Damaris riding? The child could talk of nothing else when I visited the nursery this morning. If you call that prattle of hers talking, of course.”

  “Yes,” Victoria said, looking up from her plate of congealed eggs. “I’ll fetch her in just a little while.”

  “Victoria! Really, what is wrong with you?”

  “What’s this? You aren’t well, little cousin?”

  Victoria felt the small amount of breakfast form a hard knot in her stomach at the sound of Damien’s smooth voice. She forced herself to take a deep breath and look up at him. “I am well,” she said, her voice cold, stilted. “I will take your daughter riding.”

  “Excellent,” said Damien. “I do believe I will join you. We will ride to St. Austell, if you like. I have business there.”

  “She looks awful,” Elaine said, not mincing matters. “If she is sickening, I don’t wish her to be near Damaris.”

  Damien Carstairs, Baron Drago, walked to where Victoria sat, stiff as a stick, in her high-backed chair. He leaned down and looked at her closely. Victoria forced herself to remain still. She could do nothing. Not here, not now.

  “Didn’t you sleep well, Victoria?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I slept very well. Very deeply, in fact.”

  “Ah. That explains much, and yet it doesn’t, not really.”

  Elaine’s voice was suddenly high and shrill. “Be certain not to overdo, Victoria. You know how terrible your leg looks if you push yourself too hard.”

  Victoria wanted to thank her cousin. “Yes, it does look horrible, doesn’t it? Ugly and disgusting. Yes, that is quite true.”

  But Damien, to her chagrin, only smiled. He flicked a careless finger across her pale cheek, then straightened.

  “Is there anything you wish in St. Austell, my love?”

  Elaine shrugged. “I am thinking that perhaps Victoria should remain here today. We are having a party, and Ligger could use her assistance. The silver, you know.”

  “I know,” said Damien easily.

  “Perhaps you don’t wish to attend the party, Victoria,” Elaine continued to her cousin. “There will be dancing, and I don’t wish you to be placed in an embarrassing situation.”

  She knows or she guesses something is amiss with her husband, Victoria realized in that moment. She is trying to give Damien a disgust of me. Victoria prayed for her success. “You’re right, Elaine. I shall help Ligger with the preparations. My leg is feeling particularly bothersome this morning. Dancing would doubtless embarrass all of us. I will keep Damaris and Nanny Black company in the nursery.”

  Damien gave his wife a lazy look that was neatly belied by his voice, which brooked no further arguments. “Victoria will ride this morning, with Damaris and myself. She will attend the party and the dancing. I shall help her choose a gown, my dear. Perhaps one of yours that are no longer of any use to you. Now, if there is nothing more of grave importance, I shall be with Corbell. The stables, Victoria, in half an hour.”

  “But I need her to help—”

  “Half an hour.”

  Victoria raised her chin. “I’m sorry, Damien. I will be riding with David. Damaris will be our chaperon,” she added with a nod toward Elaine.

  “Yes,” said Elaine quickly. “That will be fine. I do wonder when David will speak to you, my dear.”

  Damien stared at his wife. “David Esterbridge,” he said slowly. “So, that is the way of it, hmmm?”

  “Yes,” said Victoria, “that is the way of it.”

  Damien smiled suddenly, nodding to his wife. “Well, this is very interesting, yes indeed.”

  Both women watched him stride from the breakfast room. The instant the door closed, Elaine rose and splayed her fingers on the table. She said in a low, hard voice, “You are wise to accept David Esterbridge. He is suitable. It is time you left Drago Hall.”

  Things were moving rapidly, too rapidly. Victoria had always known that she hadn’t a sou, and it hadn’t been important. But now it was. She would have to tell David that she was poor, wretchedly poor, that she would bring him nothing. Squire Esterbridge appeared to Victoria to be a man of stern and rigid fiber, with even more fibrous notions of what was due to his family. Surely he couldn’t want a daughter-in-law with nothing to recommend her but the Abermarle name, her blue eyes, and her straight teeth. She simply couldn’t bring herself to believe that he did want her in the Esterbridge family, even though David had assured her at the beginning of each of the three proposals that his father was desirous of having her for a daughter-in-law. She lowered her head. She would speak to David, make him fully aware of her concerns before she accepted his proposal. Perhaps she was making problems for herself where there should be none. Surely David was certain of his feelings and of his father’s attitudes toward her, for they were of long enough standing. She was worrying for naught. Perhaps, she thought, more optimistic now, just perhaps Damien, once he realized that he wouldn’t gain his ends, would provide her with a dowry.

  She left Elaine with a brisk step and went to the nursery. Nanny Black merely gave her her usual dour nod and straightened the pink velvet bow on the little girl’s riding hat.

  “You wish to be my chaperon, Damie?” Victoria dropped to her knees in front of the child, carefully, of course, favoring her left leg.

  “David?”r />
  “Yes, David is riding with us. We will go to Fletcher’s Pond and feed Clarence and his family.”

  “Yes, yes, yes, Torie!”

  Victoria ruffled Damie’s black curls, thinking that she was the picture of her father. Except there was no cruelty in her clear gray eyes. Only innocence and eagerness and an only child’s occasional petulance.

  Victoria rose gingerly to her feet, feeling the slight strain in her left leg from the kneeling position. Nothing but a twinge, but it made her realize that this was something else she and David had never discussed before.

  “Come on, Torie! Come! Come!”

  “Little terror,” said Nanny Black fondly.

  “I’ll bring her back after luncheon,” Victoria said. “Come along, Damie, and we’ll fetch Cook’s picnic basket.” She took Damie’s small hand and together they walked downstairs.

  Victoria came to a startled halt at the foot of the wide staircase. There was David, standing very still, looking up at her. He was but four years her senior, ruddy-complexioned, his eyes dark brown, his hair a darker brown. He was slight of build, no masculine compliments coming to mind upon viewing him, but he was kind to her, always had been, and was soft-spoken. She had always liked him.

  He was wearing buckskins. Victoria said immediately, “How very natty you look today, David. Doesn’t he, Damie?”

  “Natty,” said Damaris.

  David wasn’t smiling, nor did he smile now. He said only, “Are you ready?”

  She searched his well-known face, feeling a moment of unease. She simply nodded.

  “Must the child come today?”

  “Come! Come!”

  “Well, yes, I promised her, you see. I didn’t know that you would mind. She will be feeding the ducks, David. It will occupy her.”

  “Enjoy your outing, you two.”

  Victoria forced herself to stay calm and turn easily at the sound of Damien’s voice. He was standing in the doorway of the drawing room, his arms crossed over his chest, his head cocked to one side, studying them.

  “Papa,” said Damaris, but she didn’t release Victoria’s hand.

  “You make certain your cousin doesn’t let you fall, my dear,” Damien said, not moving. “Esterbridge,” he said, nodding to David. With those words he turned and walked down the back hall toward the estate room.

  “Come!” said Damaris, tugging at Victoria’s hand.

  “Yes, Damie.”

  David walked a bit ahead of them toward the stables, and Victoria wondered at him. It occurred to her vaguely that his mustard-yellow riding jacket wasn’t a felicitous color for him. It made him look bilious. A wifely thought, she decided, and kept her mouth shut.

  Toddy, her mare, snorted when she saw Victoria. True to her habit, Victoria withdrew two cubes of sugar and laid them on her palm for the horse to eat.

  “Come!”

  “I’ll give you a leg up, Victoria,” David said, and followed action to words. Once Victoria was settled on Toddy’s back, he handed her Damaris. The child was squealing with delight and excitement. David didn’t seem at all amused.

  “Sit still, love,” Victoria said, encircling the wriggling little body firmly with her arms. She watched the stable lad, Jim, give David the food basket.

  They rode down the long drive, eastward toward Fletcher’s copse and pond. There was no opportunity for them to speak of private matters with Damaris chattering constantly. The day was warm and clear, only scattered clouds dotting the blue sky.

  “It’s a lovely day,” Victoria said finally, smiling toward David.

  “I suppose,” he said.

  “I must speak to you.”

  He looked at her now, and she saw his hand jerk unexpectedly on his horse’s reins. His stallion snorted, danced sideways, nearly unseating him. Her eyes widened, but she said nothing more until he had his horse under control.

  “Almost there!” shouted Damaris.

  “Yes, love, very nearly.” What was wrong with David? He was looking at her oddly. Then she saw Damien in her mind’s eye, standing there so smugly, looking at them, and she felt a sense of foreboding.

  They dismounted near Fletcher’s pond. David lifted Damaris down, gave her several slices of bread from Cook’s basket, then watched her until she came to a halt a good three feet from the edge of the water.

  “That’s quite far enough,” Victoria called. “Ah, there’s Clarence. You can begin their feast, Damie.”

  The squawking of the ducks was very nearly deafening, and Damaris was completely oblivious of the two of them. Slowly David placed his hands around Victoria’s waist and lifted her down. Victoria smiled up at him and lightly laid her hands on his coat lapels. “I will marry you if you still wish it,” she said, no preamble coming to mind, just the bald essence of the matter.

  He stared down at her, saying nothing. Finally, “Why now, if I may inquire? You’ve turned me down every time I’ve asked since January.”

  Oh, God, what to say? It hadn’t occurred to her that he would wonder at her sudden agreement, more fool she. She could hear her own voice reciting to him, “I must leave Drago Hall before Damien ravishes me and I can only do that by marrying you and I don’t love you but I swear to make you a good wife.”

  “More bread!”

  David watched her pull more slices from the paper wrap and toss them to Damaris. When she turned back, wiping her hands on her riding skirt, he felt a surge of immense longing for her. Until he remembered. “Well?”

  “I think we should suit, David. There are a few concerns, though, and something I really must tell you.”

  “What is this something?”

  “Well, first, I am concerned about money. I haven’t any.”

  “Damien would provide a dowry, you must realize that. He wouldn’t wish to appear niggardly and petty, and he would were he to simply send you off with only the clothes on your back.”

  “Your father—”

  “My father wants you. He is adamant, in fact, and has been for a very long time.”

  That was a shock. “But why?”

  David shrugged.

  “Certainly he has always been kind to me, but a daughter-in-law shouldn’t arrive on his doorstep as poor as a vicar’s mouse.”

  “I think I’ve already answered that. Now, Victoria, there is something else you should tell me, isn’t there? You do intend to tell me more, do you not?”

  She cocked her head to one side, wondering at him. He wasn’t behaving as he normally did in her company. Damien, she thought. Damien had something to do with this. She said aloud, blurting it out, “What did Damien do? Did he tell you anything?”

  “So,” said David. He laughed. “So, it is all there, for anyone to see. God, how blind I’ve been.”

  “Blind? What are you talking about? What did Damien tell you?” She closed her eyes a moment against the ugly twisting of his lips. “It was not really so bad, was it?” Had he told David of her leg and its ugliness?

  “I wouldn’t have imagined it, nor would my father. I did think that I knew you, Victoria. But you deceived me. Made a complete and utter fool of me.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Dear God, I don’t believe you. I didn’t want to believe him—no, I didn’t. How could you? He even told me about your mother. Inherited tendencies and all that, he said, trying to find excuses for you.”

  Victoria gaped at him. “My mother? What is going on here, David?”

  “You’ve as good as admitted it, damn you, Victoria. You actually believe I would still want you? Just you wait until I tell my father. He’ll change his mind about you quickly enough.”

  She tried to calm herself in the face of his utterly wild and unbelievable words. “David, I truly don’t understand what this is all about. I haven’t admitted anything.” He gave her a stony stare. “David, what did Damien tell you?” Her hands felt clammy, and she was becoming cold, terribly cold.

  David laughed, a very unpleasant sound, but Victori
a was too distraught to hear the pain in it. “Used goods, my dear, very used. Even by the baron. Your cousin’s husband. How could you?”

  “Used goods,” she repeated slowly, and she suddenly had the image of Molly pouring used bathwater back into the buckets to take them to another family member. She nearly giggled aloud. “Used goods,” she said again. “How ridiculous that sounds.”

  “The baron hopes you’re not with child, but he isn’t certain, and said he couldn’t let me marry you in good faith with the possibility that my heir could be a bastard. He wanted to warn me, to advise me, and I hated him for spewing out such filth about the girl I wanted to make my wife. But it isn’t nonsense. Are you with child, Victoria? Is that why you wish to wed me now?”

  So very cold, and so alone now. She nearly laughed aloud seeing herself as used goods, as some sort of package now retied with old string. Damien hadn’t wasted time on irrelevant things. He’d gone immediately for the jugular. And David had lapped up all he’d said. She raised her chin and said only, “No.”

  “No what? You have played me false, madam. I am leaving now and I don’t wish ever to see you again.”

  He sounded like a bad actor in a melodrama. She shook her head, trying desperately to clear it of extraneous images and thoughts. What had happened, what was happening, was real and it was now and it would affect her the rest of her life. “None of it is true, David. Damien lied to you.”

  “Like mother like daughter,” David said. “That’s what he thought, anyway. And your mother was a trollop.”

  “Torie! Thirsty. Come!”

  Victoria ignored Damaris. Anger flowed through her now. “Don’t you dare speak of my mother like that. None of it is true and if you believe it, you’re naught but a fool, David, a credulous, naive fool.”

  David said nothing. She watched him untether his horse with jerky movements, then quickly mount. He stared down at her. “Lies, Victoria? Tell me then why you wish to marry me. Not for love, that is certain.”

  No, she didn’t love him, and he saw it in her eyes.

  “God, that I could have been so deceived in you.”

  She told him the truth. “I wanted you to protect me from him.”