by Gill, Tamara
"I would like to travel one day. The world is full of adventures if one is game enough to step into the unknown."
She thought about his words a moment, unsure if he really meant such a thing. He certainly didn't appear to be a person who would enjoy travel, meeting new people, the disturbance of it all. "Are you certain that is true?" She ignored his raised brow of surprise. "May I speak plainly, my lord?"
He nodded, his eyes guarded. "Please," he said.
Victoria clasped her hands before her. Could his lordship be saying everything she wanted to hear, but believing none of it? After Paul and all his lies, it was difficult to trust anyone outside of her family. Believe anyone at their word. "For the past several years, I think I could count on one hand the number of times we've seen you in town. You rarely attend events when you are in London, and this house party has a grand amount of guests equalling three. One of whom you've been friends with since you were in short coats. I cannot help but wonder," she continued, "that you're nervous when around crowds. That the London season is too much of a crush, too chaotic for you to bear. And so, I also cannot believe traveling the world would be something you would enjoy. Would I be right in that estimation?"
His mouth opened and closed several times before he said, "You're very astute, Victoria. Is my bumbling about in society so very obvious."
"Not at all. You are a most sought-after gentleman when you do attend events, even if you stumble at times. You enjoy being here at Rosedale, and I can see why you do. The house and gardens are spectacular, but to leave it all, for months on end, travel and mingle as one does abroad, I do think you would hate.”
“Oh no,” he argued. “I would like to travel. Who would not, but I do see why you would think that of me.”
“When one gets to know you, such as I do, as little as that is, one cannot help but pick up on nuances. I want to help you if you would allow it."
"You wish to help me? In what way?”
“I’m a widow, and with that unfortunate event, it also grants me some freedom that other unmarried ladies do not have. While I have no wish to marry again, I think you would like a wife. Is that correct?”
“I have always wished to marry, to have a family, fill my home with love. You think me a foolish romantic, do you not?”
She could never think him so. If only she had married such a man as Lord Melvin and not Paul. What a disastrous mistake and one she could never repeat. “With my guidance and help, my connections, I think I could have you wed before the end of next season. Find you the perfect bride. Are you willing to allow me to train you in the art of courtship? It could also help in building your confidence so you too can travel someday.”
Lord Melvin stared out at the ruins a moment, mulling over her words. His lips pulled into a pensive frown. He had lovely lips, supple and the shadow of stubble along his jaw drew the eye. Oh yes, the women would be falling at his feet, panting with want after she was finished with him.
“Very well, we have an agreement.”
"Excellent, then we shall start with lessons on how to make you a rake of the first water."
He frowned. "Is it not supposed to be diamond of the first water?"
Victoria waved his words away. "Never mind that, whatever it is, we'll have you prepared for next year's season in no time. Even if you cannot find a wife, you will be more confident in crowds and open to conversation with people you have just met."
"You're only here for a few days. That will not be long enough, I fear, to help me."
"Leave that with me. I can ask for more time. If Mama thinks that I fancy you, she will want to stay. Not that I am," she reminded him, wanting the rules to be clear before they started. "Do not concern yourself. We shall have enough time."
Victoria wrapped her arm about Albert’s, ready to return to Rosedale and to start their lessons. He glanced at her with a knowing look and already he appeared more roguish than she’d ever seen him before Her stomach fluttered. "Come, let us return to the house. We have much to do."
“Indeed,” he drawled. “We do.”
Chapter 8
Albert waited for Victoria to meet him in the conservatory the following morning. After dinner the night before, she told him she wished to meet him in that particular room for some suggestions on making a woman more likely to swoon into his arms.
Whatever that meant.
He waited on the wrought-iron seat that sat against a matching chair and small, round table. His conservatory was aflush with flowers, scents, and even a couple of orange trees, a fruit that he enjoyed best.
The sound of slippered feet echoed out in the corridor, and he stood, bowing when Victoria entered the room.
She looked as sweet and natural as the plants surrounding them. Her soft-pink muslin gown accentuated her figure, and he wasn't without so many rakish wiles not to notice she filled her gown out in the most advantageous way. He may be a nervous, clumsy man, but he still enjoyed the sight of breasts on a woman, and Victoria had a lovely handful. He sighed. If only he would be the lucky chap to win her heart.
He'd conclude that with her helping him, it would at least put him in close quarters to her, and maybe he could have a chance of winning her affection. Not that she saw him as anything but a clown in need of guidance to find a wife. To be more socially capable and travel without having to have his hand held.
"Good morning, Victoria." He took her hand, kissing it. She wore no gloves today, and he reveled in the softness of her skin and the sweet blush that stole over her cheeks.
"Good morning, Albert," she returned, taking back her hand and sitting down on the vacant chair at the small table he was occupied at before. "You are already showing an improvement to your gentlemanly wiles."
He joined her, throwing her an easy smile, while his innards were all a-twist. She did that to him. Made him as nervous as a virgin on her wedding night. What would she say should she know that he had never slept with a woman? He hated to think of such a reaction. Would she believe him? Or worse, laugh?
"I am trying," he replied, ready for his lesson.
"I thought this morning, while Mama is sleeping in, we could have our first lesson." She waved her hand around the conservatory. "This room not only smells divine, but it can also be a place for a tryst between couples. Not that I partook in one. Mr. Armstrong, before our marriage, was quite respectable, I must add for clarification, but the delicious scents, the beautiful outlook, the calming sound of the fountains, which you're lucky enough to have, all help in creating an atmosphere simply perfect for seduction."
Albert shifted on his chair, not realizing with all this talk of seduction from the very woman he'd love in his bed would make his body misbehave. Victoria certainly knew what she was speaking of and could help him. She had been married after all. Not in winning another woman, but winning her. If he found out what she liked, what made her swoon when a gentleman called, there was a chance he could court her, convince her that marriage to him would be so very different than her first.
"Go on," he urged, wanting to know more.
"If you were at a ball and happened to stroll with the woman you intend to marry, and I must stress this, you must not simply walk off to seduce anyone who takes your fancy. That will never do. I shall not like such underhanded, cruel actions toward an unmarried maid."
"I would never do such a thing," he promised, crossing his chest in the hopes that she would believe him.
She studied him a moment, her perfectly straight teeth biting her bottom lip in thought. Albert swallowed hard. Dear God, these lessons would be torture. "Very good. I'm glad you agree. Now, should you stroll into such a room, you may pick a flower, give it to the lady, tell her she is as sweet as the rose you gifted her, or whatever plant that takes your fancy."
Albert couldn't think of anyone he would rather stroll with than the woman before him. "Shall we try it now?" he suggested. “Practice makes perfect, do you not agree?"
Victoria stood, pulling him up to join
her. "Oh yes, you are right."
They strolled for several steps, Victoria's arms entwined with his. "Let us pretend that you wish for me to be your wife. That we're at a ball, and you've been courting me for several weeks. Talk to me with what you think a suitor may say to the woman he adores."
Albert pushed down the nervous flutter at having to say anything romantic, especially to Victoria, whom he did, in fact, want as his own. What if she realized what he said was heartfelt? He would never get over the shame should she not want the same. Which from previous conversations, and rumor about town, she did not.
He cleared his throat. "A lovely night for a stroll. Thank you for escorting me here this evening. I know that you risk much by doing so."
She looked up at him, her eyes alight. "Hmm, very good, Albert. And I particularly liked how your voice sounded an octave lower than normal. A seductive quality that you didn't know you had, I would assume."
She would assume right. He hadn't realized he'd dropped his voice to a lower octave. "Have I mentioned how very beautiful you look this evening?" he continued, meaning every word. Even though Victoria was not adorned with jewels or an opulent silk gown, having her here at Rosedale in his arms, she was simply the most perfect lady he'd ever met.
"Thank you. You look very handsome too." She stopped and turned to face him. Victoria reached up to clasp the lapel of his jacket, her hand warm through his shirt and waistcoat.
Could she feel his heart beating madly in his chest? His mind whirled with what she was doing. Was this part of the lessons, or had his words had more effect on her than he thought they would? Shit, he did not know.
"A lady may touch you like this if you have been courting for several weeks. Even so, it would help if you did not give in to your urges. Remain the gentleman always, let the lady decide the pace of courtship."
Albert watched her lips move, but he heard very little. His body had a mind of its own, and all he could think about was kissing those sweet lips that were trying to help him.
"She may even try to lean up and kiss you. Whatever will you do then," Victoria said, leaning upon her tiptoes and placing her but a breath away from him.
His gaze dipped to her lips, and he realized he was holding her hips. "I would kiss her back."
"You could," Victoria said, stepping out of his hold, all business and teacher-like once again. "If you had been courting and you wished her to be your wife. If not, you should excuse yourself and remove your person from the room before you’re embroiled in scandal."
The idea of their lessons, of what else she would teach him, made him long for more. The scandal could go hang. He wanted her back in his arms, her sweet lips tempting his.
"Tell me what else I should know when courting a woman. I must know all the secrets if I'm to marry a woman and keep her content."
They walked on, and Victoria picked a rose, handing it to him. "This is for you," she said, "as a token of my affection. You could say something similar. But you cannot send a letter or gift, flowers only. I would suggest keeping your time alone with any lady to a minimum, even with a chaperone unless you do indeed wish to marry her."
"I'm alone with you right now without a chaperone," he couldn't help but add, wondering if she had realized such a thing.
"Oh, that does not signify. I was married and there is nothing that will shock or insult my sensibilities. I think I’m well and truly immune to anything of the sort after Paul.”
Albert gave her a half smile, but inside, disappointment stabbed at him. He'd love nothing more than to kiss her, to shock her sensibilities into wanting him. Being so close to her, the desire and need she wrought was unbearable.
"You must know that for me, courting a woman is difficult. I'm not equipped with the easy manners, the words that a lot of gentlemen have when flirting with a lady. I fear all of your lessons, your help will be in vain, Victoria." Especially since he did not want any other woman on his arm but the one beside him, precious in her attempt to make him more suitable to the opposite sex.
"They will not be in vain," she said, meeting his eye. "I'm determined to have you at your best, to show other ladies what I see in you. A lovely kind and attractive gentleman who is ready to settle into a life of domesticated bliss. A man capable and confident. I will not fail in my quest."
Albert pinned an easy smile to his lips as they walked out of the conservatory, but a weight sat atop his shoulders. He needed to figure out a way to use Victoria's lessons to his own advantage, not on others but on her.
Chapter 9
Later that day, Victoria sat in the upstairs parlor that Lord Melvin had given her mama to use during their stay. She sat, sketching one of her wolfhounds, Pickle, from memory, but her mind kept wandering to Lord Melvin.
As much as he was interested in her lessons for him, she could not help but feel that his heart was not in it. Did he not want to marry? Or perhaps he had loved another several years ago and lost her to another gentleman. How terrible if that were the case and he was cradling a broken heart all this time, and she did not know it.
It would certainly explain the heroine in his first book, should he turn out to be Elbert Retsek, who had been grief-stricken at the death of her betrothed.
"Darling, you're scowling most severely at the parchment. Your drawing cannot be so terrible that you would glare so," her mama mentioned, catching her eye over the top of her knitting. She was making little mittens for Alice's baby due in several months.
Victoria laid the sketchpad in her lap. "You know that I’m to help Lord Melvin be prepared to court a lady next season. He's terribly shy and awkward in social situations, and I mean to assist him with that floor. But I feel he's a little distracted. He thinks it will not work."
"While I think your motivations are honorable, do remember widow or not, to be alone with Lord Melvin during your lessons does not put you in a welcome light."
Victoria sighed, wondering when her mama would see her as a woman who had married and buried a husband. “Mama, nothing untoward will occur and I am not a virginal miss. Stop acting as though I am.”
“Really, Victoria. The way you speak leaves me wondering if you had any lessons in manners at all growing up.”
She grinned, knowing she often ran away whenever lessons were held. The thought of Albert flittered into her mind once more. Had she been searching for a suitable match after Paul, she may have considered him herself, but she had no desire to be anyone's property, not a second time. To trust and be so wrong with that gift was not an easy jump to make. The embarrassment she endured at Paul’s affairs she had sworn never to subject herself to again. And she would not.
Not that she thought Lord Melvin would be so cruel to his wife as Paul had been. He was kind, honest, where Paul had been deceitful and ungentlemanly. A bastard through and through.
In the conservatory this morning as odd as it was, the idea of kissing him had entered her mind. He was a tall gentleman, fitted her own height well. His superfine coat tailored to perfection over his wide shoulders. His cutting cheekbones, his dark, hooded eyes that stared at her with such meaning that her heat had fluttered.
She shook the thoughts aside. He wasn't meant for her. That was not why she was here. He was meant for someone else, someone who actually wanted a spouse.
"Have you ever considered that Lord Melvin isn't interested in any other lady? He did, in particular, invite you and your family to his estate." Her mother’s knowing smile as she continued her knitting was worrisome.
Victoria frowned, having thought the invitation was due to friendship, nothing deeper than that. That they were now partaking in lessons, an idea suggested by herself, no, her mama was wrong. She shook her head, rejecting the idea. "No, he is not looking at me as a possible candidate as the future Marchioness Melvin. Do not be irrational, Mama."
"What is there to be unreasonable about? You're a duke's daughter, a sister to one. You are Lady Victoria Worthingham. There are not many men in London who would not seek su
ch an arrangement."
"Except you forget I'm a widow to a man most of England despises since he’s slept with half our acquaintances wives’. I hate that marriage is so sterile and formulaic. If I should allow a gentleman to court me again, I will only be induced into giving myself to him before God by the strongest, unbreakable love." All things that would never happen, for Victoria was determined never to allow herself to be seduced a second time into a bad match.
Her mama raised one disagreeable eyebrow. "You have been reading too many novels or listening to your sisters too much. While I wish for you all to make love matches, that is not always possible. And not all men are rakes and ravish their brides to be. You should not speak in such a way."
Victoria huffed out a breath, knowing there were no such men left in England. Her sisters had married all the best men in England.
She dismissed the thought as soon as she had it, knowing it for the falsehood it was. Lord Melvin was a good man, handsome and kind, and while he may not ravish a lady, curl her toes in her silk slippers, he certainly had the ability to, should he know what to do...
"Sorry, Mama," she said, hating to disagree with her mama. "But I'm sure you're incorrect. Lord Melvin is merely wanting company and thought to invite one of his oldest friends to his estate. Not that we'll be here long enough for me to train him in the art of courtship. We leave in under a week."
"Oh yes, that reminds me, my dear." Her mama placed down her knitting. "Your brother wants to extend it a month. Lord Hammilyn, a nearby neighbor of Lord Melvin, is having a ball, and there is a country dance at Camberley the week prior to this. Your brother wishes to attend both events, and Lord Melvin has welcomed us staying the few extra weeks."
The news could not be better, and Victoria masked the little squeal of delight at knowing they would be here and have events to attend as well. This would be the perfect time for Lord Melvin to practice all that she taught him in the art of courtship. She would have to double her efforts if she wanted to get him ready for a ball in a matter of weeks.
