He cleared his throat, his eyes going wide. Had she shocked him yet again? She was known in her family always to speak her mind, to have opinions that not everyone wished to hear all of the time, and yet, such disapproval never deterred her. She simply persisted with her ways.
"I hope that our kiss has not discouraged you from helping me gain a wife. I would still like your help if you're willing to continue."
Relief poured through her like a balm. "Of course I'm willing to help still. In fact, we can pick up the lessons after breakfast if you would like. Perhaps we could meet in the music room. There is a pianoforte in there, and I would like to give you instruction on what to say and how to act when your particular young lady takes a seat to play for an audience."
His head cocked thoughtfully, and she hoped they could move forward from today. They were friends, after all. Surely male and female fellows could remain so, even after sharing such an intimate act.
"That would be most helpful."
The milk on the stove started to boil, and Albert stood, picking up a nearby mitten before clasping the pot. He poured the milk into her mug with care, not a drop spilled.
"Would you like sugar in your milk?" he asked her, placing the pot in the sink.
"No, thank you. The milk will be enough." She sipped her drink, watching him. "You are sure that you wish to take a wife, Albert? I do not want to force these lessons on you if you're not ready to settle down."
He sat again across from her, folding his hands in his lap, his legs a little parted in his ease of seating. "I am ready to marry. Out here in Hampshire, there isn't much to do most of the year, and the company would be nice. I also long for children to make the house sing with giggles and squeals. I cannot wait for those days to come."
Victoria found herself entranced by his words, his ideals. His future sounded so very pleasant, and once, maybe, there was a time she too wanted such things. Her first days of marriage had been lovely, but it wasn’t long before disillusionment creeped into her world. The whispers of Paul and where he spent his nights, the spending, the not seeing him for days on end. Never again would she be a man’s property, uncared for and treated like rubbish. Now she wished for adventure—independence above all things, a life of her own on her own.
"I hope you get your wish and with my help, maybe sooner rather than later. I may not teach you everything you need to know to gain a wife. Some things like today's kiss should never happen again. But most etiquette and proper conversation skills I can help with. And my connections, of course, while we're staying here with you in Hampshire, will help draw suitable ladies to your side."
He reached out, picking up her hand. He did not wear gloves, and her attention shifted to his arms, his rolled-up shirtsleeves that gave her an advantageous view of his muscled arms. His fingers were long and warm, strong, and she shivered, remembering what they felt like against her back, holding her firmly upon his chest.
His eyes met hers, and as if in slow motion, his mouth lowered to her hand and kissed her fingers. She sucked in a breath, feeling his lips, the touch of his mouth against her flesh as if he had kissed her a second time on the lips. Her nipples beaded, and she became aware of how little she was wearing.
Oh dear Lord, what was happening to her? She could not react to this man. Albert was her friend, possibly her favorite author in all the world. She could not lust after him.
That would never do at all.
"I must go," she said, wrenching out of his hold and fleeing the room. "Goodnight," she said at the door, not waiting to hear his reply. Lord Melvin was starting to be a danger, and she needed to calm herself before she saw him again. His reply, husky and low, made longing rip through her. Damn it all, this plan of hers may have been a bad one after all, and she never had bad ideas. Ever.
Chapter 13
As agreed, they met in the music room the following morning. Albert walked into the chamber and steeled himself for spending some time with Victoria.
Alone.
She was the epitome of perfection. She stood gracefully beside an open window, the sheer curtains floating past the bottom of her dress, her hair up in curls, several loose and bouncing against her slim shoulder. As for her gown, it fell against her form in the most flattering of ways, revealing her luscious curves and bountiful breasts.
Albert should look away, should not be torturing himself with designs on a woman who did not want a husband, but he could not help himself. She was all that he wanted. He would play her game of instruction if only to win her heart with seduction if need be.
He cleared his throat, and she turned, the pensive, thoughtful expression immediately replaced with one of welcome, her smile warming the room even more than it already was.
"Good morning, Lady Victoria. I hope you slept well."
She nodded once, starting for the pianoforte where she sat on the leather stool. "I did, thank you. I hope you're ready for your next lesson?"
He joined her, leaning over the pianoforte and one that had been in his family since he could remember. "What is it you wish to instruct me on today?"
"Well, as to that. I wanted to talk to you about what you could do
