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Victoria

T he day started much like every other day. I became aware of Lily moving about my bedchamber, performing her customary actions prior to helping me dress for the day. I lay in bed and listened to her, taking comfort in the familiarity of our routine.

She poured fresh water into the washstand bowl, then moved to my dressing table, where she opened the top drawer to take out the brushes and hairpins she would use to pin up my hair.

When she shifted to the wardrobe to select an item of clothing, everything that had happened yesterday came flooding back.

All my belongings were still at my father’s house, but Rexford had anticipated every one of my needs. Or at least, I assumed it was my brother who had arranged for the trunk filled with dresses and undergarments that had arrived last night.

I lay there with my eyes closed, remembering every detail of yesterday’s escape and waiting for panic to set in. I had completely upended my life. I was no longer Lady Victoria Wright, daughter to the Duke of Sherbourne. Today, I was a ruined woman, another man’s mistress.

A smile spread across my face, bone-deep relief sweeping through me. I had spent my whole life trying to make Father happy—and when that didn’t seem possible, I tried to stay out of his way. But I had never had an opportunity to discover who I was outside of my relationship to him.

I rose from the bed and greeted Lily, who waited patiently by the dressing table. She smiled back at me. Today, I began my new life.

After dressing I had my breakfast downstairs in the breakfast room, something I never did at home. Normally, I had a light meal brought up to my bedroom since I ate alone.

Father only spent time with me when he needed something, and usually, it was to inform me about what he expected from me before an outing.

Today, there would be no trips to Bond Street, and no trips to the lending library to see what new novels might be in circulation.

There would be no calls from acquaintances.

The few women I’d begun to consider friends would turn their backs on me now, refusing to acknowledge my existence.

But that thought didn’t really bother me, because I would make new friends.

Lily, for one. The unassuming young woman, who was only a few years older than I, had always been reserved and proper when she’d served as my maid.

But now, freed from the constraints of trying to appear as the perfect lady’s maid for a duke’s daughter, she seemed much younger, and certainly freer with her opinions.

I quite liked this version of Lily. The old Victoria Wright would never think of calling a servant a friend.

And while we weren’t there yet, I felt we were headed in that direction.

After breakfast, I made my way to the small library in the back of the house in search of something to read to pass the time. I settled in the drawing room, telling myself that I was not waiting for Moreland’s arrival.

It was a dry tome, but it served to pass the time since I didn’t have anything else to do.

My paints weren’t here, and I had nothing with which to draw.

I had no preparations to make for visiting friends or attending any entertainment that evening.

The day stretched before me, empty of duties and expectations.

While I felt a twinge of guilt at not being productive, a small part of me enjoyed the fact that I was free to be as selfish with my time as I wanted.

When I heard a key turning in the front door lock, I couldn’t help but worry that Father had somehow found me. I held my breath as the door opened. A footman had gone to intercept whoever it was.

I let out my breath when I recognized Moreland’s voice.

My gaze went to the clock above the mantelpiece.

It was only two in the afternoon. He wasn’t supposed to arrive until early evening.

That was the schedule we’d decided on last night.

He would call and spend a few hours here to keep up the appearance of a man visiting his mistress.

I set the book on the end table and stood, folding my arms at my waist. When Moreland stepped into the doorway, peace settled over me.

But that sense of calm evaporated when I saw the look on his face. “Is something the matter?”

He closed the distance between us. “I have news.”

My insides twisted. “You’ve changed your mind.” Of course he had. He’d arrived to tell me that he didn’t want to continue with our pretense. “I don’t blame you. My father is a powerful man. I know very well what hell befalls those who cross him.”

When he scowled, I pressed my lips firmly together. I was babbling, something I hadn’t done in years, because it annoyed Father. He’d disciplined that nervous habit out of me years ago.

The silence stretched for several seconds before he shook his head. “No, I haven’t changed my mind. I gave you my word.”

He’d given my brother his word, but who was I to quibble about semantics? Especially when I was the one benefiting most from the arrangement.

He inclined his head to the settee. “Have a seat, please.”

Apparently, my manners had fled. We had both been cast into this unusual situation, but that didn’t mean I should throw away all social niceties.

“Of course. I’ll just ring for tea?—”

“Sit down, Victoria.”

He’d called me Victoria, not Lady Victoria. If his goal was to shock me into silence, it worked. I lowered myself onto the edge of the settee and waited for him to settle into one of the two armchairs placed across from where I sat. Instead, he sank onto the settee next to me.

He’d left space between us, but nothing about sitting this close to an unmarried man could be called respectable—a handsome man who was filled with vitality and to whom I was very much attracted.

An image popped into my mind that threatened to steal my breath.

Moreland leaning toward me, closing that negligible amount of space, and pressing his mouth against mine.

“I apologize for distressing you just now.”

The image faded, and for a disorienting moment, I couldn’t remember to what he was referring. “Your news,” I said finally.

His gaze hadn’t left mine, and it felt as though he was trying to see right through me.

“I’ve learned that news of our arrangement has made it into the gossip columns.”

I gasped. “Which ones?”

His brows drew together. “I was told the news secondhand. Why?”

My heart raced in earnest. “Father reads The Mayfair Chronicle .”

“Of course he does.” Moreland rolled his eyes.

We both knew why Father chose to read the gossip column in that particular newspaper.

He hated that Rexford had escaped his control and was obsessed with any news related to his son.

The Mayfair Chronicle had taken a particular interest in Rexford, giving his circle of friends the moniker by which everyone now knew them. The Legendary Lords of the ton.

Every time Father read that paper, his mood soured. And since news about their exploits was an almost daily event, he was always in a foul mood.

He would be apoplectic with rage when he learned that I was being kept as one of their mistresses. It also meant that Moreland’s life could be in danger. That distressing thought hadn’t occurred to me until that moment.

“We need to stop this. I should have taken up Rexford’s offer to hide me away in the country.”

Moreland shook his head. “We’ve already discussed this. We both know that your father could explain away your sudden absence. Manufacture a family emergency while he turned England upside down looking for you.”

I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t deny the truth of Moreland’s words.

“And when he found you, he would continue with his plans undeterred.”

After I’d had a chance to recover from the beating he would no doubt give me. But he would be careful not to mar my face or arms. He wouldn’t want to damage the property he intended to barter for a powerful alliance. But he would have no such qualms when it came to Moreland.

“I’m afraid for your safety.”

He barked out a laugh, and I wanted to shake him. Couldn’t he see that he was in danger?

“Victoria—”

“You’re not safe. You might think you are because Father has done nothing to hurt Rexford.

But my brother is his heir. Father labors under the mistaken impression that he can still bring him to heel.

But you… He would have no misgivings about doing whatever was necessary to hurt the man who dared to impugn the family’s honor. ”

His face softened. “Not your honor?”

This time I laughed. “ His honor. We are but walking, talking extensions of his name. Rexford has some leeway because he is a man. Men are allowed to sow their oats, get into all manner of scrapes in their youth, but all is forgiven when they wish to return to the fold.”

Moreland shook his head. “Rexford will never return to the fold.”

“Perhaps not, but he will become the next Duke of Sherbourne. And no one will care what he did before that time—or after, for that matter. He has full impunity. But me?” With each word, I became more convinced about the futility of this whole exercise.

“Father will have you killed for trying to ruin me and thwart his plans.”

“He can try, but I’m an excellent shot. And I can hold my own with a blade.”

This time, I feared my laughter held more than a hint of hysteria.

“You think he’ll call you out? No, there are other ways to take a man’s life.

” I’d read more than a few horrid novels, and in that moment, I could recall every ghastly death that had befallen those who’d wandered into the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Victoria—”

“No, we must stop this now. There’s still time if our names weren’t mentioned…”

My protests died when Moreland placed his hands on my cheeks and physically turned me to face him. We remained like that for what seemed like an eternity, his hands cupping my face and our thighs pressed together.

I already knew that his eyes were a light gray—it was impossible not to notice such an uncommon color.

But now I could see that darker flecks swirled within them.

And as we continued to stare at each other, I could see the way his pupils grew larger.

If I were capable of speech, I would have asked him why.

It seemed like such an odd thing to notice, but I couldn’t help but wonder if something significant was happening between us.

Surely I was imagining things, but the very air that surrounded us seemed to grow thick with tension.

“I’m going to take care of you.”

A soft whimper escaped, and I wanted to sink through the floor. What was wrong with me?

But the sound seemed to bring about a strange reaction in Moreland. His lids grew heavy, and his face came closer.

The sharp knock at the front door sent both of us scrambling backward.