Graham shook his head. “I can’t believe you invited that man here, to your home.” What was she thinking? Lord Hugh Claremont? The man who was trying to force her to marry him by threatening all other suitors and pressuring schools and parents not to hire her?
Victoria stood before Graham in a plain cotton black blouse and black wool skirt. Not her usual stylish attire. No trims, no ruffles, no bobbles. She almost looked like a peasant. But she carried herself with a grace and dignity that bespoke her station.
She gave her chin a slight tilt. “First, I did it to have the upper hand. My territory.”
Smart.
“Second, this isn’t my home but my uncle’s. If I don’t marry, it will be gone. Still not mine. If I do marry, it will become my husband’s property and still won’t be mine. So this house never was nor ever will be mine.”
How unfair. He’d never thought about it, but her husband would own everything if she married. No wonder she wasn’t keen on marrying except for love. That would be the only way she could ensure with any amount of certainty that she would be treated well.
Could he draft a contract which would allow her to keep everything in her name should she marry? It depended on how tight the second half of the will was. And if the man she married would agree to sign it and abide by it. Doubtful. What man would marry her for all this and then give it all up?
She smoothed her hands down her skirt. “Now, you must remain out of sight while his lordship is here. He mustn’t know you are even in the house.”
“I’m not going to leave you alone in a room with him.”
“He can’t be allowed to see you. I’ll be perfectly safe.” She walked down the hallway to a second, smaller door in an alcove that led into the parlor. “You can listen from here.”
He didn’t like this one bit. But he was interested in what she would say to Lord Claremont. “Very well. But if I suspect you are in any sort of trouble, I’m going to break up the meeting.”
“I won’t be in any trouble.”
He followed her downstairs and into the kitchen where several servants congregated, including Mr. Dent.
Victoria faced the butler. “Foster, make sure Lord Claremont feels very welcome.”
The butler nodded.
“Mrs. Fuller.” Victoria turned to the housekeeper. “Wait a few minutes after Lord Claremont arrives to serve the tea.”
“Certainly.” The housekeeper set the sugar bowl and creamer on the prepared tray.
Victoria picked up the two cups and inspected them. She opened the china cabinet and returned the cups there, then picked up one cup after another and selected two. “Give this one to his lordship when you pour the tea and this one to me.”
Graham noticed that the two cups had chips on the rims. What was the little minx up to?
Muriel scuttled in. “He’s coming up the driveway.”
Victoria straightened her shoulders and nodded to Mr. Dent, who hurried out of the room. “It’s time.” She spoke to the room at large. Or was it to herself?
Graham followed her up the servants’ stairwell.
She seemed to be in no particular hurry. She waited at the top behind the heavy oak door.
After a moment, the front door latch clacked, and distant voices filtered through the doorframe.
Another moment later, the servants’ door opened from the other side, and Mr. Dent moved aside. “He’s in the parlor.”
“Thank you.” She stepped out and took several deep breaths.
Graham stood next to her. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He would gladly confront his lordship on her behalf.
“Oh, I want to do this. I’m just preparing myself.” She fluttered her hand toward him. “To the alcove, and don’t come into the parlor for any reason.”
He would be the judge if he had reason to go into the parlor.
She strolled the length of the hallway to the parlor doorway, pulled a black handkerchief from her sleeve, and slumped her shoulders.
He tiptoed to the door that had been left cracked open a bit. A tall potted palm with a cluster of other plants hid him from view. Perfect. He slipped inside, crouched, and peered through the leaves.
Lord Claremont stood as she entered. “Victoria, thank you for your invitation.”
She waved her handkerchief toward him. “I am so grateful you came.” She sat on the end of the sofa closest to the crackling fire.
He sat next to her. “I thought after the theater you might be upset with me for taking Mr. Berg’s place. Since the plans were all made, I felt I would have been negligent if I left you waiting.”
Negligent only because he was the reason Mr. Berg didn’t show. Graham wished he could see Claremont’s face straight on to read him. Women rarely could tell what truly hid behind men’s words, and men had no clue what danced around in women’s heads.
Victoria gave a halfhearted smile. “That was so kind of you. And your box offered a far better view of the performance than the lower seats would have. Truly thoughtful.”
Claremont straightened his shoulders, no doubt pleased with her compliment. “You are welcome in my opera house box any time.”
Graham bet his lordship would love to have a beautiful lady of Victoria’s station on his arm everywhere he went. But she could be ugly for all Claremont cared if he could have her uncle’s money.
Mrs. Fuller entered through the door behind Graham. She smiled down at him and continued into the room with the tray. “Tea, miss.”
“Thank you.”
The housekeeper set it on the table in front of the pair. “Shall I pour, or would you like to?”
Victoria nodded at the tray. “Please do.”
The first cup, Mrs. Fuller handed to his lordship, then one for her mistress. “Anything else?”
“No, thank you.” Victoria spooned sugar into her cup … one … two … three … and stirred with soft clinking sounds.
The housekeeper left the way she’d come in. She winked at Graham as she passed by. Her footsteps stopped just outside the door.
Graham glanced back to see the housekeeper, butler, Muriel, and one other maid standing behind him, straining to hear.
Claremont took a drink of tea, pulled the cup from his lip, and glared at it. He touched the chip on the rim. His eyebrows pulled together.
No doubt he thought the same thing as Graham. Why serve a guest with chipped china?
But the man didn’t mention the damaged cup. “Your message sounded as though you had something specific you wished to speak to me about.”
Victoria dabbed the corner of her eye with her black handkerchief. “I’m in quite a quandary. I don’t know what to do. I need your counsel.”
“I will help in any way I can.”
Graham bet he would. Help himself to Mr. Helmsworthy’s money.
“My uncle had debts.”
They weren’t much. Nominal at best. She knew that as well as Graham did.
“Go on.” Lord Claremont took another sip, glared at his cup again, and set it and the saucer on the table in front of him.
“I had three months from the reading of the will. I’m going to be out of this house in a little over two weeks.”
Claremont pulled back. “But your uncle had so much.”
“Debts.”
“What about all his holdings?”
“Debts.”
From his lordship’s pinched expression, Graham could tell the man struggled to believe the fortune that he’d thought was within his grasp had slipped away.
Claremont swallowed hard. “Certainly your uncle left you something.”
“I will receive a small stipend.”
His lordship shifted on the sofa. “How small?”
“Oh, not to worry. If I scrimp, I can rent a modest apartment, hopefully one with a separate bedroom.”
Claremont leaned forward as though about to spring off the sofa.
She sucked in a quick breath and continued. “I had hoped to supplement the allowance by working at a local school for girls, but none of them are hiring.”
His lordship stood. “I am so sorry to run out on you like this, but I just remembered a prior engagement.” He backed toward the door. “Thank you for a nice time.”
Graham struggled not to laugh and give away his refuge.
Victoria followed her guest into the foyer. “But whatever shall I do?”
Graham and the servants watching shifted as one to peer down the main hallway.
Lord Claremont snatched his overcoat and hat from Mr. Dent. “Sorry, I am unable to help you. I’ll make some inquiries and get back to you. Good day.” Claremont swung his coat on and, without bothering to fasten it, hurried outside into the freezing December air.
Graham came out of hiding and strode to the foyer.
Mr. Dent closed the door.
Victoria burst out laughing. “Did you see him? He couldn’t get out of here fast enough.”
“That was brilliant.” Graham applauded her. “I dare say that’s the last we’ll see of him.”
And nothing she’d said was a lie. She merely omitted some key information. But if she didn’t find a suitable husband soon, it would all be the cold hard truth.