"It is you who ought to be careful, or you'll be made my wife." A little crow of satisfaction shouted in his mind when she paused at his words. He would not look upon tonight as a misguided, utterly reprehensible action that he'd done, but a step to making her see they fit like kid leather gloves. She may not see just yet, but she would. He would win his Victoria still, and tonight had been the first official stepping stone along that path.
The following morning Victoria sat at the breakfast table and fought not to think about what the marquess, who sat at the head of the table eating bacon, eggs, his steaming-hot black coffee to the side, had done to her.
What they had done together last night in her room.
Her stomach knotted at the memory of her release. It had been different to her times with Paul. The intensity had been higher with Albert, even thinking about it now made her squirm. Her body had broken free at that moment. She had become a woman free of restraint, of wifely duties. She was simply a woman who had found pleasure with a man, and it was Lord Melvin who had driven her there.
She stirred her tea, wondering how they could go forward after such an event, how she would steer her instruction of him toward finding a wife and not toward finding a vacant room in the house and making him make love to her.
"Darling, I think your tea is stirred," her mama said, pulling her from her thoughts. She dropped the spoon, and it clattered on the small dish the cup sat on.
Heat crept up her neck, and she looked to where Albert sat and maddeningly found him behind his paper, ignoring the commotion she had made.
"Apologies," she said, her brother watching her intently. Victoria picked up her tea and sipped it, a congenial smile pinned on her lips. "What are we doing today, Mama? Should we travel into the village and cast our eyes over the shops?"
"That sounds like a lovely idea, my dear. I shall have our carriage brought around after breakfast."
"May I join you?" Albert asked, folding his paper and laying it on the table. "I feel as though I have not been out of the house in an age."
"Really?" Victoria queried sweetly. "I thought you and my brother were out only last evening?"
Her mama cast a curious glance at Josh before turning her attention to Lord Melvin. "Did my son take you out last evening, Lord Melvin? I hope he was not too much of a bad influence on you," she teased.
Josh sputtered, affronted. "I would never be a bad influence on my oldest friend. We had a beer at the local tavern, and it was an enjoyable night all around."
"It was indeed," Albert said, his gaze catching hers quickly.
Need, hot and senseless, thrummed through her, and she wished they were alone. Victoria swallowed, schooling her features. "We shall be looking for a modiste, my lord. Are you sure that is what you would like to escort us to?"
Albert's lips twitched. "I shall accompany you if only to escort you as I should since you are my guests. I will, however, leave the modiste up to you to visit alone."
"I wonder if they have any gowns fit for the country dance, Mama. I do not wish to look too high in the instep."
Her mother raised her brow. "Really, Victoria, your gowns are lovely and new. While we shall look, I do not think you need a new wardrobe."
Victoria stared out the window in the breakfast room. She had not been looking for a new wardrobe, just a gown that was less opulent than the ones she owned. She would stand out against the townsfolk and local gentry, and as much as she adored her family, sometimes blending in helped a little. Made one's night much more pleasant, and she wanted to be approachable for Lord Melvin's potential brides. If they were scared of speaking to her, she would not be able to vet them for the position of his wife.
Chapter 20
Albert greeted some of the townsfolk who wished him good morning as he strolled before the modiste's window waiting for Victoria and the duchess.
The groom held the horses while the driver sat atop the box, waiting patiently for them all. He wasn't so patient. He needed to speak to Victoria and be alone with her if he could manage such a thing before expiring. He did little these days but think of her, and tonight he would have to make an effort to ride out to his hunting box and get some words down on his next manuscript. The muse was well alive within his mind, Victoria giving him plenty of ideas and plot fodder to write onto the page. It would also help keep his hands off her person, which he was wont to do at any opportunity that arose.
He started back up the pebbled path before the shops and inwardly groaned when he spotted Miss Nancy Eberhardt, only daughter and heiress to a local gentleman and whose mother had passed during her birth. The young woman was pretty and sweet-natured, all the elements a gentleman would want in a wife, but unfortunately for Nancy, he had never had eyes for her.
The only woman he'd ever taken note of was currently looking at gloves near the window of the modistes.
Miss Eberhardt spied him and smiled warmly. He bowed when she came to stand before him, her broad smile and bright eyes putting him on guard. Her maid, a sickly little creature, stood back, demure and quiet as always.
"Lord Melvin, how wonderful to see you about.
