It was gossip, but a better tale than the truth. And even Victoria, for all of her virtuous activity hunting the immoral undead, was not perfect. She still felt the sting that her good friend, as a vampire, had planned Victoria’s demise simply because it had been Victoria-and not Gwen-who’d caught the eye of Phillip de Lacy, Marquess of Rockley, when the two girls debuted into Society. If the gossip behind Gwen’s disappearance was juicier than the oranges she’d had in Rome, Victoria figured it was only fair.
“Indeed?” Duchess Winnie’s eyes widened. “How unsuitable?”
“We can talk about that later,” Lady Melly interrupted, though the gleam of interest burned in her expression as well. “But I was telling Victoria about the new Rockley heir, which I am certain she will find most interesting. Of course, no one is certain what happened to the previous Rockley, our dear James, but since he’s disappeared without a trace, the lawyers have gone on to find the next in line in the event that he doesn’t return. Mr. Hubert de Lacy will arrive in London next week, so they say, and I believe it would be most fitting for the Marchioness of Rockley to attend his welcome-home ball. ” She looked at her daughter. “He is a widower of five years, after marrying a Spanish girl and staying there on her family’s land after the war. A bit longer in tooth than your dear Rockley, Victoria, but as my mother always said, ‘what’s in the pocketbook before the measure of teeth’… or something of that nature. ”
“Welcome-home ball? The man is not already here, and you’ve planned a welcome-home ball?” Victoria could not help but roll her eyes, but she took care to keep that unladylike expression out of her mother’s sight.
“I’m not hosting the welcome-home ball, my dear,” said Lady Melly with a gush of surprise. “If anyone in this family should be doing so, it would be you. But as you’re doing your best to deny your societal duties, I suppose I can have nothing to say about it. The party is being hosted by Viscount Rutledge, as he and Mr. de Lacy knew each other at Oxford… or somewhere from their youth. ” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at her daughter. “I do hope you will make an appearance so you can at least meet the presumptive new Rockley. ”
“Mama, I’m not going to marry again, so you can cease and desist in attempting to fling me at every bachelor who shows his nose at court. And aside of that, Rutledge has a son only ten years my junior, so if he knew de Lacy at university, they must be of an age. If I were interested in marrying again, it wouldn’t be to a man fifteen years my senior!”
She stood. “I must be going-but, Mama, if you should like to plan a wedding so much, why do you not put Lord Jellington out of his misery and marry him?”
“Yes, indeed, Melly,” Lady Nilly jumped in. Victoria wasn’t certain if it was because the lady felt sorry for her , or because she was such a romantic that she wanted to see her friend wedded off again. In either case, Victoria rejoiced in the diversion, edging toward the door.
“Indeed not, ” said Melly. “I-”
“But why not, Melly?” the duchess put in, spraying crumbs with abandon. “It would be such fun, and Jellington is simply besotted with you. Has been for years. ”
“I have no interest in getting married again,” Melly replied, for once on the defensive herself.
“But think of the gown you could wear,” Nilly sighed, pressing a hand to her nonexistent bosom.
“And the food ,” added the duchess. “I would even loan you my Mildred to do the wedding luncheon. ”
Victoria felt the doorknob under her hand and turned it silently. Melly was no longer looking at her, but had become wholly distracted by the bombardment of her friends.
Taking the rare opportunity of her mother’s inattention to slip out, Victoria eased through the door, her mother’s shrill refusals ringing in her ears.
Their volume and pitch made her particularly relieved to be out of direct range.
Once out the front door and in her carriage, Victoria had a decision to make.
A great part of her wanted to simply return to her comfortable bed and sleep a bit longer. Although her vis bullae provided her with fast healing and other protection, she still had injuries that made her weak and sore.
But going back to the town house meant that she could come face-to-face with Max, and after their conversation this morning about Lilith, she wasn’t certain she wanted to see him. As expected, when she announced her intention-a rather logical one, she thought-to hunt down the vampire queen herself, Max had not accepted it.
There was no need to relive the scene that followed, the lethal tone to his raised voice as he told her how foolish she was.
He would not listen, no matter how calmly she spoke, reminding him that it was her responsibility to rid the world of vampires, and that destroying their leader would be a great victory that would likely lead to a serious annihilation of the undead.
Perhaps in retrospect, she should not have told him anything at all until the deed was done.
Victoria sighed. Perhaps by telling him her plans, she had merely achieved the result of driving him from London all the more quickly.
As she shifted on the seat, rearranging her skirts, her hand brushed against something hard and metal. Curious, she picked it up-a small coin that she recognized immediately. Her mind flashed back to the evening before, when George Starcasset had sat in this very seat and fumbled with something jingling in his pockets.
Very interesting. Perhaps…
She realized the carriage had stopped at the end of the drive, waiting for her direction. Opening the window, she made her decision and called up, “The Claythorne residence, in St. James. ”
Several minutes later, upon arriving at George Starcasset’s family home, Victoria sent Oliver, acting as footman, up to the door with a card for George. Fortunately, her carriage-having been inherited from Aunt Eustacia along with her London town house-was unmarked, and thus unidentifiable to any random passerby-or neighbor.
Moments later, the footman returned with the news that George was at his club, Gellinghall’s. This information being what Victoria expected, as well as the most expedient way to find out which club George frequented, she ordered her groom to drive the carriage over to Gellinghall’s.
Upon arrival at the gentlemen’s club, she again sent Oliver to call for George. Not more than ten minutes later, she was rewarded (if one could call it that) by George’s arrival at the door of her carriage.
“I trust you were discreet in your leave-taking,” Victoria asked, although it wasn’t of great concern to her whether George’s companions knew it was the Marchioness of Rockley who called him away. The only reason she cared to protect her reputation any longer was because she wished to avoid as many lectures from her mother as possible.