He was living a lie, at least portraying one. But then, he supposed his books were a work of fiction, and his characters had nothing to prove. But soon, he would need to search for a wife in earnest. Court her, as awkward and clumsy as he was when in verbal conversation with females. The thought made him frown. Next week he would see Lady Victoria, and his ineptitude would be even more noticeable. Her vivaciousness for life, her confidence shamed his introverted self. For years he had wanted the gumption to implement some of the things he'd found in the sketches with her, seduce her into marriage with him.
A dream that was unlikely to come true. He required a wife who at least wished for a husband. Lady Victoria Worthingham, as much as he longed for the position to be filled by her, was the one woman in England sworn off ever marrying again. Everyone knew it, and so did he. Someone else would have to do.
Chapter 2
Dunsleigh, 1811
The guests to their country ball and short house party arrived a week after the 1811 Season had come to an end. After their return, Victoria had the following day walked up to the family mausoleum and paid her respects to her papa, a man she missed more with each passing year, especially when she saw all that he missed by being gone. The many grandchildren being born, the happy marriages, the balls, and parties that she knew he loved so very much.
Tonight was the formal dinner the night before the ball, where the guests could relax and enjoy a more intimate get together after their journeys to Surrey. There would be music and games, cards for the gentlemen, and of course, the guests could stroll the extensive grounds, or enjoy the billiards room or conservatory if they chose.
It seemed all of London had descended on Dunsleigh for the ball, including a lot of the local gentry, some of whom rarely went up to London at all.
Lord Melvin one of them. After dinner, Victoria stood beside Alice, discussing those who were in attendance. Her sister was positively glowing with a second pregnancy in as many years, and Callum, her adoring husband, kept vigil from across the room, speaking to her two brothers-in-law, the Earl of Muir and the Duke of Moore.
"What do you think of Lord Melvin? He does seem most uncomfortable with Miss Fletcher, do you not think? Why," Victoria said, sipping her ratafia with amusement, "I do believe he is sweating. Look." She shook Alice's arm a little.
Her sister cast a cursory glance, not wanting to be too obvious in their appraisal of him. "Oh dear, he's pulling at his cravat. What do you think Miss Fletcher has said to him to make him so uncomfortable?
Something about the gentleman had always drawn Victoria. She supposed as a lover of animals, of dogs especially and horses, to see a man who looked as downtrodden and as uncomfortable as a puppy surrounded by wolves would make one feel bad for the man.
Feel sorry for the unfortunate.
As one of her brother's closest friends since school, they knew him well, and for many years. In the two years since she'd seen him last, his lordship appeared even more uneasy around company. As if society made him physically ill.
She cringed when he fumbled for his handkerchief and dabbed at his brow. "He's nervous. Maybe he likes Miss Fletcher."
Victoria narrowed her eyes at the idea of Lord Melvin seeking to court the young heiress. From the way Miss Fletcher controlled the narrative of their conversation, she couldn't help but think the poor man would never get a word in.
But then he probably wouldn't get a word in with her either, so there was that. Even so, as she studied him, she couldn't help but think he'd like to bolt like one of her mares when let out of the stables after a few days. "Do you think I should save him and pull Miss Fletcher away for a turn about the room?"
Alice cast her a cursory glance. "Why the interest in Lord Melvin?" She tipped her head to the side, regarding the gentleman. "I suppose he is quite sweet-looking. A little bookish perhaps, but that is nothing if he has other skills."
Victoria snorted and covered her inappropriate lapse of ladylike manners by covering her mouth with her hand. She took several moments to stop chuckling. "I'm not even going to ask what you mean by that, Alice. But let me enlighten you, dear sister. I have seen you and your husband when you think you're alone, and so I can assume very well what 'skills' you mean."
Alice did not bat an eyelash, nor did she blush. She simply grinned, sipping her wine. "I suppose what one does not know can be taught. Myself included. I was quite enlightened after marrying Callum."
"And what are we to do should both the couples be clueless?" Not that she was or that she thought Lord Melvin would be so very naïve when it came to seduction and women. He was a man, after all. A marquess. He could not have been so secluded and innocent, no matter if he spent all of his time in the country. He probably had a gaggle of women willing and able to warm his bed in Hampshire.
She narrowed her eyes at the thought. At that very moment, his lordship glanced away from Miss Fletcher, his attention colliding with hers. The fear, the uncomfortable mess he was just an instant before vanished, and a determined light entered his eyes that she’d never seen before. What did that mean?
Alice cleared her throat, grinning over the top of her crystal glass. "Well, well,
