Pursued For The Viscount's Vengeance. Sarah Mallory

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      ‘Well, I do,’ she replied. ‘Lizzie has just returned from her trip to London, where she has been staying with her aunt. I saw her yesterday, when I called at the Lodge, and I must say she was looking very smart in her London fashions. I dare say she will put us all in the shade.’ She ended with a little laugh, watching her brother for the slightest flicker of interest. Elizabeth Gomersham was only two years younger than Randolph and at one time they had been good friends, but now he showed no enthusiasm at all at the prospect of seeing her again.

      ‘These provincial parties are always so dull. Can you not go on your own?’

      She framed her answer carefully.

      ‘I could, of course, but we have known the family for ever and Lady Gomersham is always asking after you. I know she would be delighted if you could attend one of her little gatherings.’

      He shrugged carelessly.

      ‘Oh, very well. As long as the brandy is tolerable I shall not object.’

      With that she had to be satisfied. She could only hope that his mercurial mood would not dip too badly during the day, for if it did he was very likely to cry off from the engagement.

      * * *

      Gomersham Lodge was a neat but substantial property within easy walking distance of the George, where Gil was putting up, but for the sake of appearances he ordered his carriage to take him to the door. While he was changing into the dark coat and knee breeches that were obligatory for formal evening parties, he asked his valet to tell him what he had discovered about the Melthams.

      ‘It’s just the two of them, my lord, Lord Kirkster and his sister. The family has had a house here for a couple of generations. The locals is mightily close-lipped about ’em, too. Protective, I would say, as these places can be about those they consider their own. The family came originally from Liverpool and made their money in the sugar trade, so I’m told. Their father died four years ago and it appears the new lord doesn’t take his responsibilities quite as seriously. The widowed Lady Kirkster moved here with her daughter, but soon followed her husband to the grave, and Miss Meltham has lived in Fallbridge ever since.’

      ‘No sign of a suitor for the lady?’

      ‘None was mentioned. She’s four-and-twenty, my lord, so she’s lost her chance by now.’

      ‘Not necessarily.’

      Gil spoke more sharply than he had intended, irritated that society should consider a young woman to be past her best at such an age. She was a very attractive young woman. Or rather, many men would think so, he corrected himself.

      * * *

      When Gil arrived at Gomersham Lodge Sir Geoffrey was looking out for him and immediately presented him to Lady Gomersham, a plump, jolly woman who greeted him warmly and bade him go off and enjoy himself. His host seemed intent upon making him known to everyone in the room and, since that was his avowed reason for being there, Gil endured it patiently until at last Sir Geoffrey drew him towards a couple standing in one corner of the room, Miss Deborah Meltham and her brother, Lord Kirkster.

      Once the introductions were made Gil referred to his previous encounter with Miss Meltham.

      ‘So careless of me not to be paying more attention to where I was going,’ he ended, smiling. ‘I trust your package was not damaged when you dropped it?’

      ‘No, sir, not at all. Pray think no more about it.’

      Her hand fluttered and she plucked at the shoulder of her gown, not meeting his eyes. Did the scar on his face repulse her after all? Perhaps she had been too startled yesterday to pay it any heed. He was aware of the differing reactions to his spoiled face whenever he was introduced to someone new. A few were fascinated by it, many affected not to notice, but the way they averted their eyes told its own story. Gil had learned to live with that.

      He cared nothing for the opinions of others. He had more than a few physical scars as well as some that no one could see. A decade of military service had pitched him into some of the bloodiest battles of the Peninsular War. It had been a cruel time and any sensitivity had been forced out of him. One had to be tough to survive. The hard shell he had built around himself was intact and he intended that it should remain so. The only thing he cared for now was family, which was why the news that greeted him upon his return to Gilmorton Hall last summer had been so difficult to accept. Which was why he was going to be revenged.

      It was a pity, then, if Deborah Meltham disliked his scarred face, but not an insurmountable problem. Gil fixed a suitable smile in place and listened to his host explaining his presence in Fallbridge.

      ‘Mr Victor is looking to buy property in the area—’ Sir Geoffrey broke off as the bustle of another arrival caught his attention and with a hasty apology he moved away.

      ‘You could have Kirkster House, with my blessing,’ said its owner, giving a laugh that held only bitterness.

      ‘Randolph, hush.’ His sister’s smile was strained. ‘My brother is funning, of course. Fallbridge is a very pleasant place to live, Mr Victor, I assure you.’

      ‘Do you spend much time here?’ Gil asked politely. ‘Is it your only home?’

      ‘I have lived here for some time, but my brother joined me only last year.’

      ‘And already it feels like an eternity.’

      ‘We spent every summer here as children,’ Miss Meltham hastily broke in to cover Lord Kirkster’s muttered words. ‘The rest of the time was spent at the family home in Liverpool.’

      Not by so much as the flicker of an eye did Gil show how much this interested him.

      ‘And do you still have that house?’

      She looked away. ‘Yes, but I do not go there now.’

      ‘What my sister means is that Duke Street is not grand enough for her any more,’ said Kirkster.

      ‘And when were you there last, my lord?’ asked Gil, at his most casual.

      ‘I made Duke Street my home when I left Oxford, until I came here to join Deb. There’s a dashed sight more to do there than here, I can tell you!’

      Gil raised his brows, looking politely interested and giving Kirkster time to tell him more, but Miss Meltham forestalled him.

      ‘If Mr Victor is looking to move to Fallbridge, I am sure he would prefer to hear what the town has to offer.’ There was a slight flush on her cheek, as if she were embarrassed by her brother’s ungracious speech. ‘There are clubs and societies for every taste, sir. If your interest is history the Antiquarians meet regularly and I understand the Debating Society is very lively, not to mention the weekly balls at the Red Lion.’

      Her eyes flickered up to his as she mentioned the balls and Gil knew she had seen him there.

      ‘Ah, yes, I looked in at the assembly rooms the other night,’ he said easily. ‘I played a hand or two in the card room.’

      ‘Cards!’ Lord Kirkster looked up at that. ‘Are you any good?’

      ‘I СКАЧАТЬ