It couldn’t be avoided.
Staring out the window, Tristan wished that his intricate scheme wasn’t necessary but he couldn’t take the risk that Victoria would change her mind or that Sebastian would indeed make good on his threat to send her away.
This was his only option.
Just as he predicted, her questions began as soon as they’d passed through the final set of gates.
“Tristan, where are we going?” she asked, leaning forward to peer out the window. She then turned to face him. “Where are you taking me?”
“Don’t worry about that. Why don’t we discuss our wedding ceremony instead?”
“Where are you taking me?” Panic began to rise in her voice as Victoria studied him, her chest rising and falling, her breathing becoming erratic.
Though his attempt at changing the subject failed, it was a valiant effort nevertheless.
“Darling, we discussed this,” he reached for her hand, his tone calm and cool, like this was a normal, everyday occurrence. “We’re getting married.”
Tori clutched the seat to steady her mounting anxiety as realization set in at last. “You said Sebastian and Gwen would accept our marriage. Oh my God, you said they would do so after we’re married. Tristan, we can’t elope.”
“Of course we can,” Tristan smiled at her, one of his dazzling smiles that used to make her melt.
It now infuriated her.
“I’m not a child. You cannot force me to elope with you.”
“Darling,” Tristan pulled her towards him. “You are no child. You’ve proven that to me on numerous occasions.”
Darling. She would have once given anything to hear him call her darling. Now, it grated on her nerves, as her molten anger boiled to the surface.
“Tristan, pull this carriage over this instant!” she demanded. “Order the driver to return me to my brother’s estate.”
“I can’t do that. My driver has explicit instructions.”
Victoria reached for his coat, tossing it upon the floor but Tristan picked it up, covering her with it once again.
“Leave it on. You’ll catch cold if you don’t,” he said, his tone now different – possessing a sudden protectiveness.
He leaned closer to her, his shirt so wet it was all but transparent. “Please stop arguing and agree to marry me,” it was as if he was asking her a favor, his full lips curved into a boyish grin. “Please, Victoria.”
In spite of her anger and frustration, she actually imagined the possibilities. The joy they could share, a life filled with endless banter and children running around the house. A life complete with birthdays, anniversaries, crowning achievements celebrated together.
He wants this.
She saw it reflected in his brown eyes, now sparkling, his dimples etched with deep indentations when he smiled.
He wanted her.
Hope took flight, soaring in Victoria’s soul. Even if she could never have the great love her brothers found, she could be happy with Tristan. They could have the relationship they did before, that of friends, bantering back and forth. It could work but only if she protected her heart.
She wouldn’t be a fool ever again.
No, she must feign indifference.
“If I marry you, it won’t be by elopement. If I marry you, and I’m not saying I will, I won’t be complacent,” she began, listing her demands. “I will speak my mind, even if it means doing so in front of your colleagues. I will do so tactfully, of course but will do so nevertheless.”
Tristan smiled, twice in one day, for the first time in what felt like ages. “I expect nothing less from you.”
“We will be equals,” she added, “I don’t care what society thinks. I will be your partner and you will be faithful to me.”
“Absolutely,” he said with a nod. So far, this sounded like heaven. “Anything else?”
“I know you don’t love me and I don’t love you,” her shaky pitch belied her proclamation.
It was subtle, but Tristan noticed it.
“I will not love you,” she declared, this time with more authority. “You must accept that fact if I am to marry you.”
She was lying. Tristan knew her too well. Victoria did still love him, but to make such an admission would wound her pride. So she would lie to him instead. It wouldn’t deter him, though. Tristan would settle for what she now offered aware that he wouldn’t rest in his pursuit until she changed her mind.
“I understand,” he said. “Is there anything else?”
Tori shook her head.
“Now it’s my turn,” he said. “First, I want children, and we will get started on that immediately following our nuptials. I will need an heir for my title, after all, and you will play with and read to our children just like you do with Emma and Nicholas.”
A slight pink tinge crept across her cheeks at the mention of starting a family. It was so adorable, so unexpected, so … Victoria, that Tristan couldn’t help but smile. Then he pulled her closer and brushed his lips against hers.
Her kiss, with lips soft as a rose petal, conveyed that she still loved him. It was just a matter of time before she admitted it. Once married, Tristan would fully seduce his wife and she would eventually admit her love for him.
He wouldn’t relent until she did.
Tristan reluctantly tore his lips from hers before reaching into the pocket of his greatcoat, the same one that was still draped over Victoria, and fumbled as he removed a crimson velvet ring box.
“This is for you,” he said as he opened the box, offering it to her.
Victoria studied the ostentatious, blood red oval-shaped ruby. “I told the jeweler I wanted something fit for a queen.”
“That it is, Tristan.”
“It reminded me of you. Bold and regal,” he whispered.
Victoria smiled, one that never met her eyes, which were usually full of life and emotion. In an instant she was distant and it was breaking his heart in two.
“What?” It was all he could manage.
“You never had any intention of complying with my request that we not elope, did you?” she traced the large stone with her finger. “You would have agreed to anything in order to get us as far from Kellington Manor as possible.”
Tristan rubbed his temples. “Yes.”
At least he was honest in this regard.
“It is only fair. I manipulated you and now you have done the same. There is a perfect symmetry to it.” Victoria closed the ring box.
“Sebastian threatened to send you away before my exile,” Tristan admitted.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
“How did you know?” Tristan brushed a stray curl clinging to her face.
“The ring,” Victoria’s tone was flat. “Based upon the grandeur, it is evident that you want a wife to display on your arm at social functions, wearing a ring the size of a small country.”
Tristan was speechless. The ring was his way of impressing Victoria. After all, what do you get the woman who already possesses everything?
“Perhaps you planned to impress your colleagues by choosing it for me?” Victoria surmised aloud. “It couldn’t have been for my benefit because, if you knew me at all, you would know that the size of a gemstone fails to impress me. It is the sentiment that I find endearing. A less ostentatious ring with heartfelt significance would have meant more to me than a thousand rubies of this size and quality.”
Tristan pulled her closer to him. “Tell me you want to marry me, Victoria.”
“And if I don’t?” she asked in a matter of fact tone, “You will abduct me and insist I elope with you? That has been your plan all along, has it not?”
“Yes,” he admitted.
Victoria met his gaze. “I understand now and I dare say not even Shakespeare himself could plot a better ending. By misleading me, you deprived me of the one thing that remained – my choice.”
A vast emptiness washed over her. Tristan was forcing her hand! Once he’d taken her to wherever their desti
nation may be, Victoria would disgrace their families if she didn’t marry him. Lest she forget, although more couples eloped now, it was still scandalous. With that said, not marrying after being taken to London or Gretna Green unaccompanied was grounds for complete ruination.
She had planned to wait until she knew if she were pregnant before marrying him, still not fully trusting that he wanted to marry her with or without a child.
Now she was left with no choice in the matter.
“Victoria—”
“You are quite clever,” she turned, staring out the window, her vision blurred. Though objects passed, her eyes failed to focus. “Just think of it … you’ll have a wife, your sister will be relieved that you’ve found your way, and Colin will be able to renew his relationship with you again. What could be better?”
“I want to marry you—”
His betrothed scoffed. It was then that Tristan knew God did indeed exist and He was punishing Tristan for his sins.
Tori turned to face him. “Don’t look so dejected,” she smoothed the line of worry etched in his forehead. “You didn’t expect a love match. This is what you wanted.”
Opening the box, Tori pulled the ring from its velvet bed, studying it for several seconds before placing it unceremoniously on her finger.
She briefly considered her brothers. Colin chose a stone the color of his wife’s eyes for her betrothal ring while Sebastian had chosen a sapphire for Gwen. It was their mother’s favorite stone, Victoria remembered. Whether it held a more private significance between husband and wife, Tori knew not, but the sentimentality of what she did understand made her want to chuck her own gaudy stone out the window. Tristan chose an expensive ring, possibly the most expensive the jeweler had and for what purpose?
To purchase her complacency?
The thought sickened her.
“The more I consider it, perhaps you intended to purchase me with this ruby?” her gaze held his. “Am I a prostitute now? According to the servants, my own brother believes me to be a whore, so that must be the next logical step.”
Tristan cupped her face in his hands. It wasn’t until this particular moment that Victoria noted his ashen complexion and sunken eyes. His appearance was made even worse by the bruise on his jaw from his altercation with Sebastian, deepening in color now to a dark purple hue.
“Don’t ever speak of yourself in such a way again,” his tone was shaky and almost unrecognizable to her, tinged with an emotion she’d never heard –
Could it be regret?
His mahogany eyes deepened to a smoky black as he continued, “You are no whore nor do I consider you to be a prostitute. I wanted to impress you, not my colleagues. I couldn’t care less what anyone thinks of us. You are all I care about.”
He was entering dangerous territory, opening his heart too much to her yet Tristan couldn’t stop himself. Hearing Victoria utter the words whore and prostitute in relation to herself had made him wanted to vomit. Instead, he swallowed hard against the bile rising in his throat.
“Congratulations, Tristan,” she said, her flat tone contradicting her merry words. “You’re getting everything you hoped for.”
But he wasn’t.
Far from it, in fact.
Tristan released her face before leaning against the plush squabs, the thick silence that hovered within the carriage stifling. Victoria was furious with him. He was now more convinced than ever that the sooner she married him the better. One question remained – how many more times would they argue between now and then?
It was a bet he was unwilling to place.
If Tristan knew anything about his betrothed, it was that she would not readily capitulate. No, Victoria was already plotting to find a way to reclaim her control over their present situation.
Tristan steeled himself for the battle ahead.
Little did his bride realize that he was even more determined than she. While Tori may have forged their relationship into existence, he would now protect it with all his might.
Yes, Lady Victoria Montgomery had met her equal and by this time on the morrow, she would be wed to him.
It was Tristan’s turn to orchestrate their match.
Chapter 11
By the time Tristan’s carriage swayed to a halt in front of his London brownstone, Victoria was beyond livid. She twirled the extravagant ring Tristan had given her, contemplating her dwindling choices, unwilling to relent without one final attempt at escape.
Where could she go?
Oliver had a home in London, but was he in town? It was worth a try. She had to get there, though, and Tristan’s driver would be of no use to her. She’d have to bide her time and wait for the right moment to flee. It must be soon, before witnesses uncovered that she was staying with Tristan sans chaperone, before she further disgraced her brother and his family.
The thought of her beloved brother, Sebastian, caused Victoria’s hands to shake ever so slightly. What would Sebastian think of her once he learned that she had run off with Tristan without one word to him? If he thought her a wanton before, Victoria trembled at what he must think of her now.
“I know you’re angry with me,” Tristan interrupted her inner turmoil, his voice rich with emotion. “But this is the right course of action. Someday you will see it.”
Like hell she would.
He helped her alight from the carriage. Though Tori took his hand out of necessity as she descended the carriage steps, she tossed it aside as soon as her feet touched the ground.
Appearing unaffected by their arrival, Tristan’s butler led them inside his townhome, straight into a study on the first floor. A fire was glowing within the grate and a tray was waiting on the center table complete with a pot of tea and a plate of sandwiches.
It was obvious that Tristan had sent word that they would be arriving. He’d planned this whole elaborate ruse and she’d walked right into his trap, just as he predicted she would. Victoria’s unadulterated rage reached a fever pitch both at Tristan and herself, for being so gullible.
“Who else knows I’m here?” Victoria demanded in her most haughty tone once they were alone, vehemently tossing her gloves on top of a mahogany Rococo table on the far wall, accentuated with scrolls and a fruit motif. “Aside from your barbaric driver and butler, that is.”
Tristan leaned against the desk, “My grandfather.”
“Your grandfather?” she hadn’t expected that.
“He’s coming to town for the ceremony. As is your maid—”
“Meg knows I’m here?” her every muscle tensed. If Meg was cognizant, she would tell Sebastian or at the very least Colin. Victoria would soon be saved.
Tristan must have sensed her train of thought, for he added, “Your brothers do not know where you are, nor will Meg tell them. She is unaware of her destination as of yet.”
Victoria was back to square one. “But Sebastian knows where you live. He will come looking for me.”
“I sent your brother a note explaining that you and I are eloping. I mentioned taking you to Gretna Green so, if he does look for you, he will travel in the wrong direction.”
“You sent Sebastian on some fruitless search?”
He nodded. “I’m not proud of it but, yes, I did. It was—”
“If you say that this was the right course of action one more time, Tristan, I swear I will slap you.” Victoria’s hand twitched, yearning for him to provoke her into action. The man she once loved was now a stranger to her. She couldn’t even speak his name without it leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. It didn’t feel the same, nor did it sound the same.
It was as if she had never known him.
“What are your plans for me?”
“You and I will marry tomorrow, in the presence of my grandfather and your maid, who will act as your chaperone. We shall then write Sebastian and Gwen, announcing our union.”
Victoria assessed her dire situation. She had one night to flee and she’d do just that.
“Eat som
ething, you must be famished,” he said, his rich timbre sincere. That was twice in the same day that Tristan’s tone was more heartfelt than she had heard it in a long time. If she weren’t so angry and so anxious, the realization might have caused her to consider the reasons behind it. But not now because Victoria was currently in self-preservation mode and in desperate need of some time alone.
“I’d rather dine in my room. I’d like to retire for the evening.”
“Very well,” Tristan said, lifting the tray and escorting her up a staircase carpeted in crimson and gold threads.
This was new territory since she’d never before entered this section of his townhome. Tori memorized the floor plan for her departure as Tristan led her to the third floor, to a door at the far end of the hall. He crossed the large room before placing the tray on a Queen Anne table near the window beside an overstuffed leather chaise.
Victoria stood stock-still in the doorway as she noticed the intricate details. The room was masculine and ornately adorned, far too much for a guest room in a bachelor’s home. Rich rosewood paneling accentuated the walls while matching hardwood flooring could be seen beneath a large Persian rug upon which rested a massive four poster bed swathed with a deep hunter green and gold coverlet and matching pillows. Her eyes continued their quick assessment, noting matching rosewood furniture, heavy damask curtains hanging against what she assumed was a bank of windows at the far wall, and two large leather chairs on either side of the massive fireplace.
The walls were aglow with several wall sconces, giving the room a warm feeling, resembling what she always suspected a men’s club would look like.
It was undoubtedly Tristan’s suite of rooms.
He wouldn’t dare expect her to stay here tonight, would he? She suspected the answer long before Tristan instructed her, over his shoulder, “Come in and close the door behind you.”
“I am not staying in the same room with you,” she insisted, anxiety rising within her chest.
Tristan sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Please enter the room, Victoria.”
“No,” she shook her head with vehemence. “I will not stay in your suite tonight. That is not negotiable.”
The Skilled Seduction Page 19
