Regency Disguise. Gail Whitiker

afraid of falling too deeply in love. I remember how devastated you were when Phillip Chesham left England without asking you to marry him.’

      Victoria blushed, painfully reminded of a childish crush she was just as happy to forget. ‘I wasn’t devastated. I was just … surprised. I thought Phillip cared for me.’

      ‘He did, but he was young, Tory, and he wanted to see the world. You just wanted to get married and settle down. It wasn’t the right time for either of you.’

      No, it wasn’t, Victoria admitted, but while her heart and her pride had been wounded, it was her writing that had suffered the most. Emotionally crippled, she had gone for months without even feeling the desire to write. She wasn’t willing to let that happen again. ‘I agree that falling in love can be destructive to a creative mind,’ she said. ‘But I’m older and wiser now, and I’ve established myself in a career. I want to see how far I can take this and I know a husband would try to restrict my activities.’

      ‘I wouldn’t care if my wife wrote plays,’ Laurie said conversationally. ‘As long as she was happy, I wouldn’t care what she did.’

      ‘Even if she was an actress?’

      Laurence blushed to the roots of his hair. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

      ‘Oh, Laurie, I’ve seen the way you look at Signy Chermonde and how you blush when she speaks to you.’

      ‘I do not blush!’

      ‘I’m afraid you do, dearest. You’ve gone quite pink even now.’

      ‘Oh, God!’ Laurence said on a groan. ‘And here I thought I was being so good at concealing my feelings.’

      ‘You forget, I’m your sister. I know you better than most. But you must know that nothing can come of it.’

      ‘I’m well aware of that,’ Laurence said, more than a little put out. ‘She’s taken up with that lecher Lord Collins.’

      ‘That is entirely beside the point. Mama would never allow you to marry an actress,’ Victoria said. ‘You know how she feels about poor Aunt Tandy.’

      ‘All too well,’ Laurence murmured. ‘Speaking of ineligible suitors, Winnie tells me you were monopolising Mr Devlin at the Holcombes’ musicale last night.’

      Victoria could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. ‘I was not monopolising him,’ she retorted. ‘Winnie’s nose is out of joint because I interrupted her conversation with the gentleman and then sent her back to Mama’s side. I dare say she would be even more annoyed if she found out I’d met up with him in the Park this morning.’

      ‘You never did. Was he alone?’

      ‘No. He was with his very pretty and much younger cousin.’

      ‘Are you sure she was his cousin?’

      ‘I did briefly wonder if she might be his mistress,’ Victoria allowed, ‘but once I heard them talking, I realised there was nothing of a loverlike nature between them. She is terribly smitten, however, with Valentine Lawe.’

      ‘She told you that?’

      ‘Oh, yes, and I must admit, I found it very strange to talk about him as though he were a real person. I was informed that he wears a red rose in his lapel, which would only ever be black, and that he has dark hair and quite the most amazing blue eyes anyone has ever seen. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she was describing you!’

      ‘Unfortunately, I lack the talent and flair necessary to fit the bill,’ Laurence said drily. ‘I take it you did not encourage Miss Wright to seek out an introduction?’

      ‘As best I could without coming out and saying the man is pure fiction. But I did feel guilty about having to deceive her.’

      ‘What else could you do? Mother would be furious if you’d told Miss Wright the truth, especially in front of Devlin. She hasn’t stopped talking about him since Aunt Tandy let slip that you’d met him at the Gryphon.’ Laurence grinned. ‘He must have been surprised to see you at that time of the morning. Did you exchange pleasantries?’

      ‘A few, but in truth, I spent most of the time listening to Miss Wright go on about Valentine Lawe. I believe Mr Devlin was as amused by her fascination with him as I was.’

      ‘A point of similarity, then.’

      ‘The only one.’ In spite of herself, Victoria felt her cheeks grow even warmer. ‘Mr Devlin and I really have nothing else in common, Laurie. He has no fondness for the theatre, and that would have to make matters difficult for me.’

      ‘Not necessarily. Not all husbands and wives enjoy the same things,’ Laurence said. ‘Our parents don’t have many similar interests, yet they manage to rub along fairly well.’

      ‘Only because Papa is not concerned with his position in life. Mr Devlin has to be and it’s quite likely I would be a terrible embarrassment to him,’ Victoria said. ‘Besides, I’m sure he has his clubs and his politics, and lives as indulgent a life as most other gentlemen in his circle. And he will be Lord Kempton one day and so has to bear in mind the responsibilities and obligations owed to the name. What could he possibly want with a woman who has no desire to be married and who does exactly the opposite of what society expects her to?’

      At half past two the following afternoon, Alistair Devlin snapped his pocket watch closed in frustration. He had instructed the estate agent to meet him at Gunninghill House at precisely two o’clock and it was now half an hour beyond that. If the man did not wish to sell the building, he should have just said so.

      ‘Mr Devlin!’ A rotund little man clutching a satchel under his arm came hurrying up the lane towards him. ‘Hedley Brown. Apologies for my tardiness. I was delayed by my last client. Quite forgot he was coming.’

      ‘Never mind, you’re here now. I take it you have brought a key?’

      ‘Yes, indeed, I have it here.’ Mr Brown reached into the satchel and withdrew a key, which he proceeded to insert into the lock. ‘Took me a while to find it. We haven’t had much interest in this old place.’ When the key wouldn’t turn, he pulled it out, brushed off a few flecks of rust and reinserted it. ‘I suspect it will need a bit of work to make it comfortable. Ah, there we are.’ He pushed the door open to reveal a large, empty hall. ‘However, it is a fine house and the price makes it quite attractive for … whatever purposes you have in mind.’

      Alistair stepped across the threshold and gazed around the shadowy hall. No doubt Mr Hedley thought he intended to house his mistress here, though why he would establish a night-time lover at such a distance was anyone’s guess. ‘Lead on, Mr Brown. I am anxious to see more.’

      The agent began the tour on the ground floor, which boasted a dark and rather dingy dining room, a breakfast parlour and what might once have been a library. Climbing the stairs to the first floor, Alistair was shown several good-sized rooms, some with windows that faced the road while others looked out over the badly overgrown gardens. Climbing yet another flight brought them to the bedrooms, each with its own dressing room, any one of which was large enough to accommodate several small beds. Above that were the servants’ rooms and the attics. The kitchen, located below ground, was surprisingly large and well laid out.

      It took fifteen minutes to view the house, less for Alistair to come to the conclusion that it was exactly what he needed. The space was commodious and, while there weren’t sufficient windows, the ceilings were high enough that the space did not feel cramped. Outside, there was plenty of room for vegetable gardens and the fields could be used for play areas. There was even a small pond. Mrs Hutchins would have to keep an eye on the younger children around that, but the older ones could help out. ‘I’ll take it,’ he said.

      Mr Brown stared at him. ‘But we haven’t discussed the price.’

      ‘There is no need. I told you how much I was willing to spend and instructed you to find a house that fell