Page 16

Moreland

A fter meeting with Rexford, I returned to the townhouse.

I’d intended to go about my normal activities, namely going to Gentleman Jackson’s for a round of boxing. I could certainly use the exercise to work out my physical frustrations. But the information Rexford had shared put an end to those thoughts.

A small corner of my mind whispered that I was lying to myself, that I always planned to return to the townhouse to keep an eye on Victoria. I ignored that voice. The matter was out of my hands so there was no point in dwelling on what might have been.

When I let myself into the townhouse, I was heartened to see the three burly footmen who waited at the entrance. I gave them a curt nod, and they melted away, back to their positions. I’d felt guilty leaving Victoria here alone, but the staff’s alertness did much to set my mind at ease.

I wandered through the main floor. When I didn’t find her in any of the rooms, I made my way upstairs. I wanted to believe that I wouldn’t intrude if she was in her room, but I knew that was a lie. Still, first I made my way to the music room.

What I saw stopped me in the doorway, and I smiled.

It appeared as though the small art supply store I’d visited on my way to King’s had exploded in here. Packages and boxes were everywhere. My gaze settled on Victoria, who sat on a chaise, her brow furrowed as she concentrated on sketching.

I must have made a small sound because she looked up at me. A smile spread across her face, one that filled me with an unexpected emotion—contentment that I’d been able to do something to make her happy.

“Moreland!” she exclaimed, setting aside her sketchbook and rising to her feet.

I expected her to curtsy, but instead, she flung herself into my arms. I couldn’t resist wrapping my arms around her and drawing her into a tight hug. To my disappointment, she pulled back all too soon, and I released her.

“I apologize for my exuberance, but you purchased art supplies for me!”

I shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed by the obvious excess. “I asked the shop owner to send one of each type of art medium they possessed.” I glanced around the room at the bounty of supplies. “I didn’t realize there would be such a large variety.”

In truth, I doubt I would have held back even if I had known. Victoria’s happiness in that moment eclipsed everything.

“I thought I’d start with what I already knew…

sketching.” She made a small circle, taking in the array of items that surrounded us.

“I suppose I’ll have to decide on a few items and put the rest away.

There simply isn’t enough room here.” She turned back to face me, clasping her hands at her waist. “But I can experiment to my heart’s content now, work on my drawing.

Perhaps I’ll have time to practice drawing people.

I’m afraid my skills are quite weak in that area. ”

An offer to model for her was on the tip of my tongue, but somehow I resisted.

I was becoming far too immersed in Victoria Wright’s life.

I needed to remind myself that this arrangement was temporary.

When it was deemed safe, she would move on with her life.

I didn’t want to imagine what that would involve.

Rexford would probably set her up somewhere far away from London and their father’s country seat.

Thinking of Rexford brought me back to why I’d returned so soon. “I’m afraid I have more news for you.”

Her smile dimmed, and she released a soft sigh. Her whole being seemed to deflate before my eyes, and I hated that, for two days in a row, I’d arrived with bad news for her.

“What’s happened now?” she asked.

“I spoke to Rexford. He confirmed that your father is searching for you.”

She shook her head. “That isn’t exactly news.”

“He visited your brother this morning.”

She wrapped her arms tighter around herself. “I thought he would issue a summons to my brother, but if he actually went to King’s…” A shudder went through her. “He must be very angry.”

“He’s most definitely displeased,” I agreed. “But your brother did learn something important. Your father is making it known that you left London to care for an ill family member.”

She dropped her arms and looked away from me.

“Of course he did. At the first whispers of speculation, he would have done everything in his power to quash it.” She met my gaze again after several seconds.

“Which means what we’re doing here is pointless.

” She chewed on her lip. “Does Rexford think I should move to the country?”

“That is an option, of course. But not the only one.”

She tilted her head to the side, waiting for me to continue.

“We can move forward with plans to hide you somewhere outside of London. Or…” I hesitated. “We can continue as we started and ensure everyone learns you’re my mistress.”

She turned away and began to pace. “I don’t see how. I’m not about to go out into the streets and proclaim it to everyone. And I can’t exactly call on my acquaintances for the purpose of announcing that I’m now a fallen woman. Perhaps that makes me weak, but I can’t do that.”

I crossed to where she’d stopped at the pianoforte and placed my hands on her upper arms, turning her to face me.

“No, of course not. But there’s still that ball we discussed.

The one held for members of the demimonde.

When you’re seen…” I trailed off, letting her fill in the rest for herself.

“Despite your father’s efforts to hide what is happening, word will spread.

First among men, but eventually, among women as well.

Before long, everyone will hear the gossip. ”

I could see the wheels turning in her head as she pictured the scenario. I far preferred this option to having her disappear forever. She’d agreed to attend the ball when Rexford had first mentioned it, but I had to ensure she hadn’t changed her mind.

“Your father’s actions have given you a way to end this. You can leave London with your reputation intact, and Rexford will do everything in his power to keep you safe.”

She was shaking her head before I’d finished.

“Father will never give up. He will do everything in his power to find me. And once he does, he will force me to marry the man of his choosing. He hasn’t given up on Rexford yet.

A son can perform many ills, and all will be forgiven when they inherit.

But a daughter…” She shook her head again.

“No, he will not easily allow me my freedom. I serve only one purpose, and that is to form an alliance for him. The path to freedom lies in sullying my name. Only then will he have no use for me.”

I examined the determined young woman standing before me, her chin high. “You’re certain?”

When she nodded, I released my grip and took a deep, fortifying breath.

She tilted her head to one side. “What do we do now?”

Never in my life had I expected to utter my next words. “We need to see a modiste so you’ll have a gown for the ball.”