Victoria glanced at the island, thankful it was not too far away, having never been too fond of deep water. Certainly not when attired in the dress and stays she currently wore. “You needn’t ask my mama for permission. I’m a widow, my lord. Have you forgotten?”
Lord Melvin cleared his throat, a blush rising on his cheeks. “No, of course not. I was merely being polite.”
She smiled, amused. “I forgive you. Now, what would you like me to do?”
“Ah,” he stammered, “I shall help you into the boat if you like.”
She strode over to the craft, pushing it into the water. She jumped in before it went too far off shore. "Are you coming?" she asked him. Lord Melvin chuckled, the sound gravelly and deep, and Victoria decided she liked the sound. It was warm and honest. So different from how the ton and its elite members often behaved. There had always been something about Paul’s laughter that she never trusted, never thought it quite genuine.
"Right behind you, my lady," he said. He jumped into the vessel, and it wobbled precariously for a moment or two.
Victoria clutched at the sides, not wanting to particularly go for a swim, not in one of her new gowns at least. Her mother would be cross for a week if she did such a scandalous thing. Lord Melvin grinned at her, taking up the oars, and soon they were rowing across the pond toward the island.
"What is over here?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at the tree-filled island. The banks were grassed, and it looked like his lordship's gardener also kept the island grounds well-maintained.
"Roman ruins, as a matter of fact. Quite the find many years ago when my grandfather was planting the oaks. They excavated the site and decided to leave them exposed. The trees, of course, were planted around the site so as not to disturb their history.
"How wonderful. I look forward to viewing them." A few rows farther and the boat scraped along the shore, and they were docked on the island. Lord Melvin helped Victoria alight, surprising her when he swung her up in his arms, carrying her to the grassy bank.
Victoria gasped, having not expected him to do such a thing. No gentleman ever manhandled her in such a way other than her husband and he’d only touched her for six weeks before moving on to someone else. Her stomach fluttered at his sweetness.
Lord Melvin was more unpredictable than she thought him to be, but then that should not surprise her, not really. If he was indeed the gothic romance author she adored so much, then he was well-versed in how to swoop a lady off her feet, keep her from harm.
"Thank you," she said when he set her down. Her hands slid down his arms, strong and surprisingly muscular. He had masculine hands too, some fingers callused as if he held a quill for long hours. She had never particularly liked men having soft hands, they had always reminded her of dandies in London. Paul had been a dandy. She should never have married him.
She glanced back at the house and saw Josh now in conversation with her mama. "You may call me Victoria, Lord Melvin. With Mama giving you leave to call her Sarah, I see no harm in dropping titles when we're rusticating in the country."
Pleasure crossed his features before he schooled his reaction. Even so, she had seen his joy. What an odd gentleman he was, possibly one of the most intelligent and clever she knew, and yet he blushed, stumbled on his words, and shunned social events—an enigma.
"I would like if you called me Albert in return, Victoria," he said, using her given name and making her miss a beat.
She smiled and took his arm, letting him lead her into the small forest and toward the ruins. Through the trees, she could see them now. Foundations really were all that was left. A stone wall here and there, cobbled flooring, but no mosaic. What a shame the ancient tile did not survive the centuries.
"We're here." He stopped them at the side of the ruins. They were rectangular in size and large.
"The family who lived here must have been powerful. The dwelling is quite large, and no doubt there would be others still unearthed, I would assume."
"You are right. My grandfather left those buried, and you can see the trees are planted away from the ruins to keep them preserved. He did not, however, take into account the root system of the Oak tree, and we have had a little damage over the past few years."
"Well," Victoria said, stepping down into the ruins. "At least you have tried your best. That is all anyone can do."
They strode about the space for a few minutes. Victoria kneeled down and ran her hand over a stone, rubbed smooth in a circular way at its center as if it were used for grounding flour or different foods. How wonderful that such things were possible to see even now, after all this time.
"This makes me want to travel and see all the wonderful historical sites around the world." She stood, coming back to stand near Albert, who was leaning against one of the walls, content to let her explore.
"I would like to travel one day. The world is full of adventures if one is game enough to step into the unknown."
She thought about his words a moment, unsure if he really meant such a thing. He certainly didn't appear to be a person who would enjoy travel, meeting new people, the disturbance of it all. "Are you certain that is true?" She ignored his raised brow of surprise. "May I speak plainly, my lord?"
He nodded, his eyes guarded. "Please," he said.
Victoria clasped her hands before her. Could his lordship be saying everything she wanted to hear, but believing none of it? After Paul and all his lies, it was difficult to trust anyone outside of her
