Hearts Entwined (Victorian Love Book 3)

by M. A. Nichols

  Yet there had to be some possibility.

  Victoria was well aware of one. Likely the best one. A gentleman who met her and her family’s needs, and though he would never compare to a certain gentleman who was beyond her reach, Victoria felt their marriage would be successful. That knowledge poked and prodded her, pestering her with all the unwavering annoyance of a child wishing to get his mother’s attention, begging her not to waste any more time.

  But the same conscience that demanded she do what needed doing for her family’s sake quivered and shook at the thought of approaching him. Though to all appearances Victoria looked at ease with the world, she felt as though her corset was laced too tight and the ballroom was a sweltering jungle. The doors were open wide, yet not a single trickle of fresh air reached her to calm the sweat beading at her temple.

  Mr. Dixon understood her motives. She knew that. Even now, he seemed ready to honor his previous statements, accepting that her actions were not from callousness or selfishness. Yet her heart warned her that such a step might hurt him irreparably. It was one thing to flirt with one of the young gentlemen, but Mr. Flemming was Mr. Dixon’s employer. His mentor. As much a father figure as the man who’d raised him. Could Mr. Dixon hold onto his equanimity if she pursued Mr. Flemming?

  A group of ladies and gentlemen were gathered around her, but Victoria did little more than nod and smile at intervals, her thoughts traveling across the ballroom to where Mr. Dixon and Mr. Flemming stood, deep in debate with a few of the other politically minded. Their conversation would be far more diverting than that which surrounded her, but Victoria did not trust herself to approach. Not yet.

  Surely there must be another option. Victoria’s gaze traveled to Mr. Dixon, and she marveled at his profile. Perhaps some ladies would not see the beauty there, but she could not imagine a more handsome figure. Even his ears, which had the unfortunate tendency to stick out beneath his shaggy black hair, added to the appeal. Victoria had never thought ears handsome before, but they were on Mr. Dixon.

  Victoria’s corset constricted, the boning and lacing digging into her skin. With shaky breaths, she forced air in and out, her muscles tensing, and she fought to keep her expression calm.

  This was the only way. That thought ought to calm her racing heart, but it only seemed to cinch her wretched gown tighter. If there were any other choice, she would gladly take it. There was none.

  But Mr. Dixon. Elijah…

  It was silly to dither. Indecision was a weakness of character, and Victoria couldn’t remember the last time she had allowed herself to be so torn. And what good was to come from avoiding the inevitable?

  As if she needed another reminder of the stakes at hand, Miriam swept by in the arms of some gentleman. Her sister beamed, batting her eyelashes like hummingbird wings as the pair moved through the dance steps. For Miriam, she would do it.

  Victoria gave another vague answer and a smile as someone prodded her about some subject or another, but her gaze rarely left Mr. Flemming. As the current dance ended, several of his set wandered off in search of their dance partners, while others wandered off in search of other pursuits. Then it was just Mr. Flemming and Mr. Dixon standing together, their hands tucked behind them as they watched the dancing begin anew.

  And though she knew she had no right to such a blessing, her silent prayers were answered, and Mr. Dixon nodded at his employer, striding off to some other corner of the ballroom, leaving Mr. Flemming alone. Giving a hasty goodbye, Victoria left her companions before her courage failed her. With unhurried but purposeful steps, she wound her way through the crowd and slipped into the space beside Mr. Flemming.

  “Miss Caswell,” he said with a nod.

  “Good evening, Mr. Flemming. Are you not dancing?” Victoria’s insides twisted at the bold question; though subtle in wording, it had been used by so many ladies to prod a gentleman into a dance to be anything but pointed. No gentleman would misunderstand the subtext shouting at them.

  Mr. Flemming’s graying eyebrow drew upwards. “I fear I’ve lost my taste for it.”

  “That is a shame, for I find gentlemen such as yourself make the best partners.” And, heaven help her, Victoria gave him a coy smile.

  Head tilted to the side, Mr. Flemming examined her with knowing eyes. “I would think someone closer to your age would be more appealing.”

  “Nonsense. Their conversation is always so lacking unless one wishes to discuss hunting or the bloodlines of their horses.”

  Mr. Flemming crossed his arms, those intelligent eyes of his holding hers as Victoria clasped her hands to keep them from fidgeting. For several long moments, they stood there silently as she held fast to her poise with a white-knuckled grip.

  A spark of a smile entered his expression, and he offered up his arm. “Dance with me, Miss Caswell.”

  The pressure in her chest eased, though her insides twisted as she took the proffered limb and joined him for a waltz. Standing close to him, Victoria couldn’t help but feel as though she was dancing with her father or uncle, and with every turn, she found her gaze drifting to the crowds, wondering if Mr. Dixon was among them.

  Mr. Flemming said nothing for a few steps, but then he turned his gaze to her.

  “You are a forthright and intelligent creature, Miss Caswell, so I will honor that by being direct. What are you intending?”

  Victoria’s mouth felt like she’d drunk sand, but she feigned a smile. “Whatever do you mean?”

  With a chuckle, Mr. Flemming shook his head. “You have many talents, Miss Caswell, but coyness and flirtation are not among them.”

  Gathering her courage about her, Victoria clung to the fact that he’d spoken of her forthrightness and intelligence with clear admiration and hoped he’d still find them so after this conversation.

  “If you wish for a more direct approach, I will oblige,” she said with a nod. “I think I would make you the perfect wife.”

  Chapter 34

  Victoria had expected a look of surprise or stupefaction, but she hadn’t counted on a bark of laughter.

  “I fear I’ve already had the perfect wife, Miss Caswell. And though she is gone these four years, none can hope to compare to her.”

  Despite their odd conversation, Mr. Flemming did not miss a step as he guided her around the ballroom, each movement flowing into the next with a grace that spoke of someone who had spent much time on the dance floor despite his earlier reticence.

  “I am not speaking of a love match, Mr. Flemming—”

  “I hadn’t thought so, Miss Caswell.”

  Victoria chose to overlook that comment and continued, “Your political career would benefit from a wife to assist with the social aspects of your duties, and I assure you I am more than capable of fulfilling that role. To say nothing of the possibility of an heir. And I would gain a husband and the security that comes with that. It would be beneficial to us both.”

  Mr. Flemming gave a choking laugh. “It appears you’ve thought of everything.”

  “Do not mock me, sir,” she said with a frown.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with an arched brow. “But you overlook a crucial detail.”

  When he did not offer it up freely, Victoria prodded him with a silent raise of her brows.

  “You are in love with Elijah Dixon.”

  Victoria stumbled, and only Mr. Flemming’s skill and strength stopped her from tumbling to the floor. With a quick turn, he covered her misstep and kept her upright as she fought to regain her footing. When she was certain she would not take another tumble, Victoria turned back to the subject at hand, and though a denial came to her lips, she could not speak that lie. Like everyone, she had much in her life to be ashamed of, but Victoria could not bring herself to add that sin to her repertoire. She could not betray Mr. Dixon in that manner.

  Besides, it would do little good for her to feign ignorance, as it was clear from Mr. Flemming’s expression that he knew far more than she’d anticipated.

/>   “My dear wife and I were never blessed with children, a fact that caused us both much pain in our younger years. However, I learned long ago that the mantle of fatherhood is one that can be donned regardless of our childless state.” Mr. Flemming’s words were sad, but he spoke them with a brightness of spirit one would not expect from such a mournful subject. There was a peace and acceptance in his gaze that Victoria longed to snatch up for herself. “Both Mrs. Flemming and I spent our lives aiding and fostering those in need, taking those unfortunate young people into our circle. You speak of heirs, but Mr. Dixon is but one of many men I think of as a son.”

  Mr. Flemming shook his head and sighed. “Even if he hadn’t confided in me, I have the evidence of my own eyes, Miss Caswell. The fact that no one else has surmised your feelings is beyond me, but people too often overlook the obvious.”

  Casting a glance around her, Victoria leaned closer. “If Mr. Dixon has spoken to you, then you must understand my situation.”

  For the first time in the conversation, Mr. Flemming’s eyes dimmed. “Too many are left to bear the burdens of their parents’ unfulfilled dreams or shortcomings. You deserve better than that.”

  “I disagree.” Pain in her chest accentuated those words, pulsing with each syllable.

  “Come now, none of us is perfect, but surely you’ve done nothing so terrible to have earned such censure.”

  “I just asked you to marry me, despite knowing how that would devastate Mr. Dixon. I think that has earned me plenty of censure,” she replied with a narrowed gaze. “If anyone deserves better than his lot, it would be him.”

  Mr. Flemming’s brows rose and he gave a nod. “Indeed, your actions have not been as admirable as they ought to be, but neither are you wholly villainous, either. But that is all the attention your first statement deserves. Regarding the second, we are of a like mind. I’ve known many fine men in my life, and Mr. Dixon is among the finest of my acquaintance. If I were you, I would not surrender him so easily.”

  His expression shifted, that spark of humor rekindling in his gaze. “Besides the fact that he is utterly and irrevocably devoted to you, young lady, you were correct in saying that a successful politician needs a good lady at his side to assist in his ascent. My dear wife did much for me, as you could do for your Mr. Dixon.”

  “You would encourage me even after how I’ve behaved?”

  Despite the seriousness of her question and the sincerity with which she asked it, Mr. Flemming laughed. “My dear, we are all fools in matters of the heart. No sweethearts escape courtship without some ludicrous decision or behavior on the part of one or the other. When those matters are compounded by family expectations and fear, that foolishness is compounded.”

  Mr. Flemming’s brows pulled tight together, his gaze growing heavy. “I only wish there were something I might do to ease the way for you and Mr. Dixon. As it is, I am doing all I can to ensure he has a bright future.”

  Victoria dipped her gaze to the floor. “I don’t know if there is any way to ease the way for Mr. Dixon and myself, but I would ask you to forget my proposition. I’m ashamed for having approached you about it, and I would prefer it undone.”

  “Consider it forgotten, Miss Caswell,” he said with a fatherly smile. “But I would ask something of you in return: reconsider your course of action. You’ve acted rashly of late, and nothing good comes from desperation.”

  Her chin wobbled, and Victoria sucked in a deep breath, forcing her heart back under her control before she replied. “You are entirely correct, sir. For all that I like to think myself a rational creature, my actions of late testify that I am flighty and desperate. I will no longer allow my fears to drive my decisions.”

  Mr. Flemming nodded, his smile warming. “The true test of character is how we behave when we believe all is lost.”

  “And I expected better of myself,” mumbled Victoria.

  “Even the best of us falter, so do not judge yourself so harshly. No one can navigate such treacherous waters without getting wet. Begin again and learn from your mistakes.”

  The pair wound their way across the dance floor in silence, and while a flush of shame plagued Victoria, she could not wholly regret the moment: clarity was often difficult to find amid such trials, and she had been given a heaping dose of it.

  Had she truly thought to marry Mr. Flemming? Regardless of the logic behind such a choice, Victoria couldn’t believe she’d chosen to betray Mr. Dixon in such a manner. She still bore the burdens of her family’s future but seeing herself as the desperate creature she’d become helped clear away the panic strangling her.

  The music came to a close, and Mr. Flemming offered up his arm again to escort Victoria from the floor. Before he released her, he bowed low over her hand and met her eyes with the sort of tenderness a father might bestow on a daughter.

  “Do not give up on a future with Mr. Dixon. There may be yet a solution that brings you two together.”

  Squeezing his hand, Victoria felt like embracing the gentleman and basking in the affection steeped in his words. But even as it warmed her through, a shudder ran down her spine and settled into her stomach with a sickening thud.

  “I do not see how we can be together—no matter how I may wish differently,” she whispered. “My family depends upon me, sir, and I cannot sacrifice their happiness for mine.”

  Mr. Flemming straightened and nodded, though his expression seemed to say he refused to accept her statement. “I wish you well, Miss Caswell. I truly do.”

  And with a final nod, he strode away, leaving Victoria alone. Skirting the wall, she avoided her usual groups of people in favor of a bit of solitude. It was not something she often craved, but at present, it seemed a little bit of paradise. A moment to clear her mind and to simply stand apart and not think about anything but the swirl of dancers and the strains of the music.

  Victoria spied Mr. Dixon long before he appeared beside her. She felt his presence drawing closer, though he did not speak as he stood there, his shoulder brushing against hers. When the song ended and the next dance began, he slanted a gaze in her direction with a silent invitation written in his expression.

  “I do not think it wise, Elijah—” Victoria winced and amended, “Mr. Dixon.”

  Leaning close, he whispered, “It is just a dance, Victoria.”

  When she opened her mouth to argue, Elijah wrapped his hand around hers, the warmth of his skin seeping through the fabric.

  “For one night, can we not pretend there are no impediments? Play the part of a courting couple lost in the joy of their love?” he whispered as his thumb brushed against her palm. That delicate touch raised goosebumps along her arms, and her cheeks flushed with the warmth that swept through her.

  Victoria’s mouth attempted to answer, but her thoughts couldn’t stray from the feel of his touch and how desperately she wanted to be wrapped in his arms.

  “If we are bound to a tragic fate, can we not spend one evening embracing that fantasy?” he asked.

  “And break our hearts all the more when reality comes crashing in?” Victoria hated herself for asking the question, but one of them had to keep a level head. No good could come from ignoring reality. Yet, her feet moved closer until his shoes brushed the edges of her skirts; Victoria knew she ought to put some distance between them but could not force her body to comply.

  “My heart is no more at risk than it was before,” he said with a sad smile. “And should I be denied the joy of having you as my wife, at least I would have the memory of tonight.”

  No matter how she might steel her heart, Victoria could not remain unmoved by such a declaration. Slipping her arm through his, she allowed him to escort her to the dance floor and took her place in his arms, unwilling to think of the consequences of holding him closer than was altogether seemly.

  If tonight was all they’d have together, Victoria wouldn’t waste another moment of it.

  ***

  A ball was not an exciting thing. Sophie had neve
r found much enjoyment in the noise and hubbub of crowds. But with Mr. Kingsley at her side, she couldn’t think of a finer way to spend an evening. Even when she was forced to dance with another, Mr. Kingsley was there with her, watching from the side, and it was easy to pretend it was he who squired her about the dance floor. And once over, he awaited her with a glass of punch at the ready, should she need it.

  Clinging to Mr. Kingsley’s arm, Sophie avoided looking at any other gentleman, lest even a fleeting acknowledgment might induce the fellow to ask for her dance and pull her away from the preferred partner. But no matter where she went, Mr. Kingsley’s gaze followed her. Even if she couldn’t see him, Sophie felt his eyes following her like a silent partner skipping alongside every reel, mazurka, and quadrille.

  Mr. Kingsley leaned closer to whisper, “It is a shame I cannot monopolize every dance. It seems monstrously unfair that I am denied the pleasure of standing up with you for every set.”

  “If I recall correctly, you gave little heed to propriety when we first met.”

  His brows rose in mock affront. “That is a terrible slander, dear lady. I did not engage you in conversation until after we were introduced.”

  Sophie laughed at that as he turned them towards a corner in which his mother and father stood with another pair. Greeting both couples, Mr. Kingsley introduced her to his aunt and uncle.

  “How wonderful that you could join us tonight,” said Sophie, giving both the Kingsleys and Ashbrooks a gracious smile. “I understand you’ve been traveling abroad.”

  Mr. Graham Ashbrook met her polite inquiry with a terse reply, giving her the barest of answers before lapsing back into silence, though he gave a far more welcoming response than Mrs. Tabby Ashbrook, who leveled a cold look at Sophie. Squeezing her Mr. Kingsley’s arm, Sophie wondered what she’d done to offend these strangers. Turning her gaze to Mr. Kingsley’s parents, she received more discomfort. Mrs. Kingsley was not outright rude (Sophie suspected the lady didn’t know how to behave in such a manner), but the goodwill that had grown over the past sennight and a half had disappeared.