He had finished his book early and had locked himself away at Rosedale during the winter months, plotting his next release and hoping his publishers enjoyed his latest manuscript. He wanted to tell Victoria of his secret, but he did not know where to find the words.
If he thought that she would contact him, write to him, he had been mistaken. Not that he had not thought about writing to her, but then did not want to look as desperate as he was currently feeling.
"Congratulations on becoming an aunt once more. I hope Lady Arundel is well."
"She is very well, thank you." Victoria sidled closer. "I'm sorry that I did not write to you, Albert. I did think of you often and missed you a great deal. I know after all that I said, I should not be saying these things now, but they are the truth."
His gut clenched, and a small spark of hope caught alight. "I wanted to write to you too," he murmured, "but then did not send any of my letters. I did not think you would have time to miss me with all that you were experiencing."
"My sister charged me to travel abroad and to be in London this Season to determine my future."
"Are you certain of what you want?" he couldn't help but ask, even though the possibility of her reply could break him.
"Not anymore."
He turned to face her and stopped at the sight of Victoria’s brother-in-law Gerald Armstrong making his drunken way over to them. The gleeful light in the man's eyes raising the hairs on the back of Albert's neck.
"Oh dear," he heard Victoria say, just as Gerald bowed, almost tumbling into them. The cur was due a comeuppance such as the one his late brother never received, and Albert was just in the mood to deliver one.
Victoria looked down her nose at Gerald as best she could, considering the man was several inches higher than she, it was no mean feat. Even so, Albert at her side, a pillar of strength, made her feel safe and above the nuisance of a man she used to call family. After Paul’s betrayal, he had mocked her, taunted her that it was her fault his brother had fled to Europe. How she hated the man as much as the one she married.
Albert's dislike of Gerald radiated off of him and she was surprised the man did not flee.
"Mr. Armstrong," she said, giving him her hand. "Where is Bertha this evening? I do not see her with you."
"Gerald, my dear. We are family after all."
"We were family, sir. Not anymore," she returned, her tone bored. "You did not answer my question. Where is your wife? Are you so disillusioned at being married such as your brother that you have locked her away out in the country already?"
The man's cheeks turned a ruddy red, and she was glad of it. He had embarrassed her for months before Paul had been killed in a duel. She owed him no friendship or respect.
"She did not wish to attend the Season. She has little reason to be here."
"Really?" Victoria smirked. "Please pass my regards the next time you see her."
Mr. Armstrong's eyes narrowed. Albert chuckled and covered his laugh with a cough.
"Lord Melvin. I see you are now chasing my sister-in-law’s skirts. Are you not an imbecile who cannot speak to a lady without, oh," he said, slapping his forehead, "I forget. You do not speak at all to begin with, to make a fool of yourself more." Gerald let out a bellowing, phony laugh, pulling the attention of other guests their way.
Victoria ground her teeth, not willing for the little weasel to get away with such rudeness.
"Your brother was a fool to let such a rare gem go, and I'm glad to see you here this evening to acknowledge your brother’s folly to your face," Albert said, leaning close to Mr. Armstrong for only him to hear his last words. “Your presence here is not welcome,” he added, his tone deadly.
Gerald looked between them, and Victoria could see his calculating gaze taking in everything he saw. So, like Paul, always wanting to cause trouble and strife. "You will not get too far with this one,” Gerald said, gesturing to her. “She's a prickly, cold, miss and a bad lay, so my brother declared. You would have to grow fur, bark, and neigh for her to like you."
The crunch of bone hitting bone sounded before Victoria had any idea of what had occurred. She stared at the vacant location before her that was once occupied by Gerald.
She looked down, seeing him sprawled on the floor, a bloody nose for his troubles. He groaned but did little else. Victoria looked back to Albert, having not expected him to act so heroically.
Having not expected his act to make her pulse race.
"You hit him." She chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand. It was never polite to laugh at someone else's misfortune, but for Gerald, she’d make an exception.
"I would do more than that to him should he dare speak to you again," Albert said, turning to her. "I would slay anyone who mistreats or talks down to you."
Victoria stared at Albert, and the months slipped away, and they were once again alone at Rosedale. His sweetness touched a part of her that no one else ever had, and it was time she admitted to that emotion. For it did have a name. And once spoken, there was no tearing it back.
No ripping her from the man she spoke those words to.
Not ever.
Chapter 38
Victoria pulled Albert away from Gerald, who continued to lay about the parquetry ballroom floor, moaning about his bloody nose and his calling to face Lord Melvin at dawn.
"You will not be dueling with Mr. Armstrong, so do not even consider it," she said, leading them away from the kafuffle and out onto the terrace. The outdoor terrace area had not
