"I fear we must, everyone only planned for two nights. Tonight will be three. But everyone wanted to stay until we knew how you were feeling. Nicholas has been through so much, and he needs our support." With a fluid movement, Anna rose from her chair and joined Victoria at the window. Capturing Victoria's hands in hers, she smiled. "Nicholas might not understand, but he will protect you. And when he persuades you to come to London, you're to let me know the moment you arrive. Promise me that?"

"Persuade? The man isn't above throwing me over his shoulder and putting me in the carriage himself." Victoria snorted quietly.

"Protest all you like, but I already know you'll come to London before the end of winter. Of that, I'm certain," Anna said with an ironic grin. "Now promise me."

"I promise," Victoria said with a smile then impulsively gave the woman a hug. "And don't take any bets on those visions of yours coming true. Like you said, it's all about the choices we make."

"This is one time I am praying my gift is simply a figment of my imagination," Anna murmured with an odd expression on her lovely face before she smiled. "Now then, let me leave you to rest, and I'll make certain that Mrs. Babcocke puts some hearty soup on the tray Molly brings you."

With a final squeeze of Victoria's hands, Anna moved elegantly across the floor and left the room. Alone with her thoughts, Victoria turned to look out the window. The dying sun painted an angry display of purple, red, and orange across the early evening sky. It seemed like a silent omen and reminded her of Anna's ominous warning. Suddenly uneasy, Victoria turned away from the window. In a single heartbeat, trepidation held her rigid as she stared at the man standing in her room.

Chapter 14.

The man stood in the shadows and watched Victoria in silence. A shrill siren went off in her head as she remembered Anna's words of warning. She'd been so certain Brentwood Park was safe, but now she wondered if she'd been wrong. The man suddenly stepped into the thin stream of fading sunlight and smiled at her.

It was a friendly smile that compelled her to respond in kind. As he moved toward her, his gait was ungainly, but it was his open and trusting expression Victoria found so appealing. When he stopped a few feet away, he swayed back and forth like a school child.

"What's my name?" he asked.

"I don't know," Victoria said with a shake of her head and a small laugh at his swaggering demand. "Why don't you tell me?"

"I'm Edmund." Beautiful gray eyes narrowing at her, the man frowned. "Mrs. Bee says you don't remember things."

"No, I don't," she said with a nod as she assumed he was referring to Mrs. Beechum. "I don't remember anything about Brentwood Park."

"Do you still remember my name?"

"Yes, you just told me your name is Edmund." She smiled at him and his obvious effort to test her memory. "I'm Victoria."

"Yep, that's me. I'm Edmund," he said proudly as he stuck his hands in his pocket and rocked on his heels for a moment then stopped. Head tipped to one side he frowned at her. "I thought your name was Vickie."

"I never liked that name. I like Victoria better." Her explanation made him nod his head.

"Victoria. It's pretty. Nicholas don't like you very much." The unexpected observation made Victoria laugh, and he eyed her with puzzlement.

"No, he doesn't like me very much at all, does he?" she said still laughing, and a grin lit up Edmund's face.

"You make Nicholas angry."

"Yes, that's true too," Victoria said. Edmund's smile died as he stared at the floor.

"You don't like me. You said mean things," he mumbled, and she frowned. Another reason to despise the countess. The woman seemed to have made it her sole mission in life to hurt others. Victoria suppressed a sigh.

"I'm sorry if the coun...if I was mean to you before. Would you like us to be friends now?"

"Okay." Happy with her response, he stepped forward to grab her hand and pumped it with great exuberance. "I'm Edmund."

"Would you like to sit down, Edmund?" Gently extracting her hand from his, Victoria gestured toward the chaise lounge. With a bob of his head, he hurried to the backless sofa and flopped down onto the padded seat. Hands under his thighs, he narrowed his gaze at her.

"Do you have any cake?"

"No, I'm afraid I don't." She shook her head. "Would you like me to have some brought up for you?"

"Oh no," he exclaimed in a hushed voice. "If you ask for cake, they'll know where I am."

"Who will know where you are?"

"Nurse and Mrs. Beechum."

"Are you hiding from them?"

"Yes, I like to do that sometimes, but Nurse gets mad."

Curious as to who Edmund was and why he was at Brentwood Park, Victoria wondered what she could ask to learn more about him. Suddenly, Edmund scampered to his feet, and walked to the oak secretaire. Lifting the desk lid, he pulled out a piece of paper and put it to his nose.

"This used to be my mother's room," he said as he sniffed the paper. "It smells nice in here."

"Who was your mother, Edmund?" Puzzled, she watched him play at the desk.

"She was pretty and always smelled nice. She died you know."

Startled by his blunt comment, she stared at him as he sat down at the fragile-looking desk. Grabbing a pen, he dipped it into the ink well and began to draw on the sheet.

"I'm sorry your mother is gone, Edmund. I'm sure you miss her."

"No, I have Nicholas." The man shrugged as he continued drawing.

"Nicholas?"

"Um hum...we're brothers. We'll always be together. Nicholas said so."

Startled, she stared at him in silence. In an abrupt movement, Edmund raised his head. Springing to his feet, he looked frantically around the room. The instant his gaze settled on the bed, he leaped forward and slid his large frame under the furniture.

"They're coming," he mumbled from his hiding place.

Before she could ask who he meant, she heard hushed, frantic whispers outside her room. At the soft knock on her door Victoria called out for her visitor enter. Mrs. Beechum was the first person through the doorway, followed by a younger woman with an expression as severe as her hairstyle.

"I apologize for disturbing you, my lady," Mrs. Beechum stammered, "But have you had any visitors recently."

"Actually, I've had several visitors this afternoon. Is there someone in particular you're looking for?" Victoria said with a smile and a wink. The housekeeper's eyes widened with surprise as she nodded.

"We're looking for Master Edmund."

"And is Master Edmund fond of cake?"

"That he is, my lady. If you could point me in his direction, I'll see to it that he gets a piece with his dinner." The housekeeper smiled, her eyes displaying an obvious affection for the Nicholas' brother. Considering the housekeeper's proposal, Victoria shook her head.

"Lady Starling was supposed to send up some dinner for me. Would you please ask Mrs. Babcocke to prepare a plate for Master Edmund as well and add cake to our trays? We'll eat in here."

"Of course, my lady, I'll do that right away." Mrs. Beechum smiled brightly at Victoria's words. "May I introduce Nurse Parkerton? She's responsible for Master Edmund."

The woman dropped a quick curtsey. Her expression looked pinched, which did little to enhance her already plain looks. When the nurse spoke, it was in a high, nasal tone.

"I don't wish Master Edmund to trouble you, my lady. I'll be happy to take him back to his rooms."

"It's quite all right. I don't mind his company at all."

"We'll leave you then, my lady." Mrs. Beechum curtseyed. "Dinner will be brought up shortly, and I'll have Molly come light your lamps for you as well." When the nurse appeared ready to argue, the housekeeper gently pulled the woman out of the room. As the door closed behind them, Victoria moved back to the bed. Crouching down, she pulled the bedspread up to peek under the bed and smile at Edmund.

"It's safe for you to come out now. Dinner will be here soon, and afterward we'll have cake. Would you like that?"

"Yes, please."

For a man his size, Edmund nimbly crawled out from under the bed frame. As he got to his feet he looked down at her and grinned. He looked quite pleased with himself, and she couldn't help smiling back. Despite his obvious handicap he was still a charmer. Victoria moved to the chair next to the chaise lounge where he stood waiting for her to sit down.

"What's your favorite kind of cake, Edmund?"

"Apple cake," he exclaimed. "Mrs. Babcocke makes it when the apples fall off the trees. Nicholas helps me pick them sometimes, but he won't let me climb the trees. He says I might fall and hurt myself."

"That makes him a good brother. I wouldn't like to see you hurt either."

"You were mean before you came back."

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. Victoria wanted to find the countess and rip the woman a new one for being such a bitch.

"You're nice now, you're getting me cake."

She laughed. His face reminded her of Nicholas' in its shape, but there the similarities ended. Edmund's mouth did not have a stern line to its form, and his body was lanky and thinner than his brother's. For the next half-hour, Edmund entertained her with stories of his life at Brentwood Park until Molly arrived with their dinner. As Victoria prepared a plate for Edmund, she instructed him to sit on the lounge sofa. Flinging himself onto the striped daybed, he laughed with glee.

"My mother used to tell me about this chair," he said with a trace of bewildered sadness. "She said she used to take naps on it."

"Well, now you can eat here. How about that?"

Pulling a small table from beside her bed over to the couch, Victoria smiled at him. She wasn't sure why he'd talk as if he'd not been in his mother's room as a child, but she put it down to his inability to process information well.

"I like you now." Edmund bit into a piece of roasted chicken. "You didn't like to talk to me before, except when you told me your secret."

"Secret?" Victoria stiffened at his odd statement.

"I found your book, and you got very angry with me." Edmund glanced around the room as if afraid someone might be listening. "You told me never to tell about the book."

"Do you know what's in the book, Edmund?"

He gave her a funny look before he looked around the room again. There was a distinct expression of fear on his face as he leaned toward her. When he seemed certain that they were alone he nodded his head.

"Names. Lots of them. Ben's name was in it too." Edmund's expression was worried as he stared at his plate. She smiled.

"It's all right, Edmund. Thank you for telling me about the book. I had forgotten what was in it."

Satisfied with her explanation, Edmund turned his attention to the potatoes on his plate. Victoria resumed eating as well, trying to make heads or tails out of what Edmund had shared with her. Why in the hell would the Countess have a book with lots of names, and who the hell was Ben? Was it a diary maybe? No, it had lots of names according to Edmund. A ledger of some kind... A little black book. The woman had a fricking little black book. No wonder the woman wanted to hide it.

"I didn't tell anyone, not even Nicholas." The pleading note in Edmund's voice jerked Victoria out of her contemplation. She smiled reassuringly at the man and reached out to squeeze his hand.

"I believe you, Edmund. You kept your promise, and I'm sure that was hard to do. I know I would have a hard time keeping a secret."

"Really?" Eyes round with surprise, Edmund looked at her with an odd expression.

"Really," she said with a nod. "Let's celebrate how good you are at keeping secrets."

Victoria picked a plate with chocolate cake on it and handed it to the man. He eagerly accepted the treat and proceeded to take a large bite out of the desert. His eyes closed in obvious pleasure and Victoria laughed.

"I thought apple cake was your favorite."

"Chocolate cake." He swallowed the bite in his mouth. "Is my second favorite."

Edmund washed his cake down with a huge gulp of milk. The end result was a milk mustache on his upper lip. With a laugh, Victoria reached for a napkin to help him clean his face. A sharp rap on the door connecting her room with Nicholas' made her call out for the visitor to enter as Edmund scrunched up his face so she could wipe the chocolate off his cheeks. As she worked, she glanced over her shoulder and saw the man the doctor had referred to as Roberts staring at them in astonishment. The man quickly cleared his throat as he met her gaze.

"My lady, his lordship would like a word with you. I'll stay here with Master Edmund until you return," he said quietly. Uncertainty made Victoria grimace as she turned back to Edmund.

"I'll be back in a minute, okay?" She waited for Edmund's nod of understanding then with a smile at Roberts, she walked down the short corridor to Nicholas' room.

The difference between her room and Nicholas' was dramatic. It exuded the same strength, power, and commanding nature of its owner. Sage curtains bordered tall windows, while green wallpaper covered the walls. Equine paintings were displayed in various spots, and a wardrobe stood open on the far left wall. A large bed, situated between the windows, faced the dark cherry fireplace, which had a table and chair set in front of the hearth. Nicholas sat in the chair, his leg stretched out in an obvious effort to warm the appendage.

"I understand my brother is dining in your room." The book he held made a loud crack as he snapped it shut, and Victoria jumped slightly at the sound.

"Yes. Is that a problem?" she said with a frown as she remembered the nurse's expression when Victoria had insisted on letting Edmund join her for dinner. Had the woman thrown a fit about Edmund eating dinner with her? "If I screwed up his schedule, I'm sorry."

"In the future, you're not to invite my brother to have dinner with you again," Nicholas replied coldly as he stood up. Although he was at least four feet away, his anger vibrated in the space between them.

"I don't understand." She stared at him in confusion.

"Edmund is different from ordinary people. He has special needs."

"Of course he's different," she said with frustration. "But he still has feelings. He's sweet and extremely well-mannered."

"Nonetheless, you'll refrain from associating with him."

"Why?" she snapped.

"Because the last time you were with him, you told him everyone would be better off if he were dead," Nicholas snarled.