Page 81 of The Heir
“What?”
“They believe we are lovers, Sir John,” she snapped. “You havepermittedthem to believe we are lovers.”
It was true. She watched his face—the ways his eyes darkened, the way his busy mind searched frantically for some lie. But there was no lie that could brush away this truth. He was a man like all the others. He preened and swaggered in front of his compatriots, and each of them tried to outdo the others with their claims about which grand lady they had managed to fuck.
That she had teased and flirted, that she had worked to wrap him around her little finger, that was beside the point. She pushed it all to the back of her mind and locked it away.
“Victoire,” he began. “I promise . . .”
I find I am uninterested in your promises just now.“And you have permitted Victoria to go gallivanting about with no one but your daughter and that traitorous Lehzen to protect her—”
“Victoria is playing agame. She thinks she is on the cusp of unearthing some great mystery behind Maton’s death. If she’s occupied with that, she cannot be focusing on this nonsense about the new household . . .”
“Unless she’s using this freedom to press her case to be removed from my care!”
Again, Sir John fell silent. Victoire took a perverse satisfaction in having shocked him twice within the space of a few minutes.
“I know my daughter, Sir John. I have watched her. Despite all our efforts—all your efforts—she has not grown more biddable or dependent. She has grown ever more defiant, and she is more clever than her antecedents would suggest. And . . .” Victoire paused to make sure she had his full and undivided attention. “She hates you.”
“Ma’am—”
“She hates you, and she hates me.” Tears sprang into Victoire’s eyes. Not the pretty, playful tears she used with courtiers and men of influence. These came from her sore heart. “She is working with the queen to get herself removed from our care.”
Victoire watched Sir John begin to realize the extent of what he had missed.
“How can she be in communication with the queen?” he demanded. “She is constantly watched. We read all her correspondence.”
“She uses Lehzen, of course.” Every one of Victoire’s words dripped with sugar and acid. If Sir John had been raised in a court, it would have been as obvious to him as it was to her. But for all his machinations, Sir John was an interloper in these halls where she was the native. “Lehzen has been having secret meetings with Mrs. Wilson, who waits on the queen. Victoria has blinded you with this ruse about chasing after phantoms and dramas on hillsides. The truth is much simpler. She is conspiring with the queen to get her own household, and she has flattered your daughter into helping her.”
“No,” said Sir John. “She is a tiny fool of a girl. She is not capable—”
But the doors opened, and the footmen entered, and they had to close their mouths and turn to see the Earl of Dunham rush into the room.
“Dunham!” cried Sir John. “What brings you here at this time?”
“Forgive me for barging in on you like this, your grace, Sir John. I . . .” He bowed hastily. “There has been a development with the board.” He cleared his throat. “And the king.”
Chapter 36
Much to Victoria’s surprise, the rooms were empty when she and Jane came in from the garden. To be sure, Lady Flora and Lehzen were there to take their bonnets, but neither Sir John nor Mama was in evidence.
A stroke of luck at last.
But it did not make up for all they had just learned from Gerald Maton’s letter. The truth was, despite her determined words to Jane, Victoria felt dispirited. She had been counting on Dr. Maton findingsomethingin his father’s papers. People wrote the most amazing things in their private letters, somehow believing that no one else would ever see....
Victoria froze.
“Letters,” she breathed.
“What did you say, ma’am?” asked Jane. But she was not looking at Victoria. She was looking across the room at Lehzen and Lady Flora.
“I was just saying I had some letters I wanted to finish,” Victoria announced. “Come help me, Jane.”
“Yes, of course.”
Victoria’s table sat next to Mama’s desk. Dash had a basket beside it. He hopped into it now and turned himself around, nosing his blanket until everything was to his liking.
Victoria also made as great a fuss of settling herself. She took out her paper, pen, and ink. She found her latest letter from Feodora and one from Uncle Leopold. She unfolded them and bent her head, as if studying the pages. Then she picked up her pen and addressed the paper.
