by Liana Lefey
“Victoria?” said Amelia from behind her. “What is going on? Let him go—people are beginning to stare!”
Taking Withington’s hand, Victoria grabbed her sister’s and slapped the two together. “Lord Withington asked me to dance, but I’m afraid I have a prior obligation elsewhere. You’ll have to take my place.” And she fled, leaving the pair standing there in the middle of the ballroom floor with their hands linked and everyone staring at them.
From a distance, she watched as the two of them looked at each other for a long moment. Her heart sank as their hands fell to their sides, as he turned away.
Damn.
Then her sister said something—and Withington stopped.
She held her breath as he turned back, the hardness in his face crumbling. When he offered Amelia his arm and she took it, Victoria felt like cheering.
“You won’t be content until they marry, will you?” said her husband, coming alongside her.
“No,” she answered, reaching up to hold the hand he laid on her shoulder. “I won’t. They’re right for each other. I know it. He does, too.”
“Your reasons for wanting her to marry have changed drastically since we met,” he observed.
She heard the smile in his voice and turned into his arms. “Things are very different between us now that I understand why she acted as she did.”
“Dance with me.”
Happy to oblige, she gave him her hand, relishing the now-familiar tug at her insides as she looked into his eyes. She knew the love and desire between them would never get old, would never diminish. “I love you, Julius.”
“And I love you, Victoria.” Suddenly, he looked up and began to laugh.
She followed his gaze and to her astonishment saw her sister and Withington engaged in a very passionate—and very public—kiss.
Everyone around them was staring in open-mouthed shock. A split second later, the whispers began to ripple toward the edges of the room.
Victoria laughed quietly. “I suppose ours will not be the most scandalous match made this Season after all.”
“What say we give them a bit of competition?” he suggested, pulling her close.
Glancing over her shoulder at her sister and Withington, who were still kissing, she grinned. “Do you know, I don’t believe my dear sister would much care at the moment.” Even so, she wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck and tilted her head back. “But I certainly won’t tell you not to give it your best effort.”
The crowd gasped yet again as the new Lady Cavendish was swept up in her husband’s arms and carried, laughing, from the room.
As always, my darling husband, for encouraging and facilitating my obsession.
My parents, for being my cheering section and wise counsel.
My “Gang”—Niecey, Monnie, Kim, and Tommy—for the last twentysomething years and counting (but we’re not really counting, are we?). I love y’all fiercely!
My fabulous agent, Barbara, who continues to help me fly.
My Montlake/Amazon team, for their sheer fabulousness.
Photo by Glamour Shots, 2012
An exciting new voice in historical romance, Liana LeFey loves to tell stories that capture the imagination and bring to life the splendor of the Georgian era. Liana lives in Texas with her husband/hero, one spoiled-rotten “feline master,” and several tanks of fish. She has been devouring historical romances since she was fourteen and is now delighted to be writing them for fellow enthusiasts. To learn more or drop Liana a line, visit www.facebook.com/writerliana.
