Page 35

Moreland

A fter Victoria and her brother climbed into the carriage, I couldn’t stand to watch her leave without me. So I turned to walk away.

It was not yet evening when I returned to my empty townhouse. I’d always enjoyed the solitude that came with living alone, but the house seemed unnaturally still. I couldn’t help but feel as though I no longer belonged there. I belonged wherever Victoria was.

So little time had passed since Victoria had come to King’s to see Rexford, yet my life was forever changed.

I was no longer the man who never spent more than one night with the same woman.

That man would have felt trapped by the situation in which I found myself.

I was not yet thirty, after all, and before this week, I hadn’t given serious consideration to the idea of marrying.

By all accounts, I should be dreading my upcoming nuptials.

But while I found myself filled with anxiety, it wasn’t because I was about to lose the freedom that came with bachelorhood. I was unsettled because Victoria wasn’t here with me.

I made my way to the study and headed straight for the sideboard, where I kept my brandy.

After pouring a healthy measure, I sank into an armchair.

I had to pace myself. Tomorrow, we would meet with Victoria’s father, and I had to perform my part.

Victoria was already lowering herself by marrying a mere baron.

I wouldn’t embarrass her further by attending that meeting while suffering from the obvious aftereffects of having indulged in too much alcohol.

So I slowly drank the one glass I would allow myself while I tortured myself with thoughts of how much I wanted to race to her side.

It seemed impossible that Rexford’s sister could become so important to me in such a short time.

I smiled as I recalled that first moment when our eyes had met at King’s. Never had I felt such an immediate and visceral attraction to a woman before. Was this fate? Were we always meant to be together?

I tossed back the last of the brandy and reclined in the chair.

I closed my eyes, settled my hands on my waist, and ordered myself to think about anything but Victoria.

Instead, scenes played in my mind’s eye of all the time we’d spent together.

The conversations we’d had, how adorable she’d looked that first day when she’d been playing with her paints.

I hadn’t told her that she had a splash of red paint on her cheek.

But seeing it there had made me content because it meant that I’d made her happy.

I’d given her something that she so clearly enjoyed and that had been kept from her.

I would spend the rest of my life trying to make her happy.

That thought should have terrified me. Instead it filled me with pleasure.

Neither of us wanted a large society wedding.

As soon as tomorrow’s meeting was over, I would procure a special license.

One way or another, Victoria Wright would soon be my wife.

I couldn’t spend another day away from her.

But for tonight, I needed to inform the staff that they should prepare my home to receive the next Baroness Moreland.