***
“You have paint all over your fingers.”
Fin stared back at Victoria, wondering how that answered his question. “I don’t see why that should have any bearing on whether or not you take a walk with me.”
“It doesn’t,” she replied. “I was simply observing. And now I will answer your question. Yes.”
She pulled her pelisse and parasol from the hook in the hallway. She really was a queer girl. Pretty as hell, but queer. Lord help the man who took her on as wife. If she ever married, of course. It really wasn’t looking all that likely for her. She was twenty-four and incredibly headstrong—not the most appealing characteristics for a gentleman of the ton. Victoria was good and shelved, and something told Fin she liked it that way. Queer indeed.
Once they were out on the street, Fin ventured conversation. “Tell me, Vickie, did you suffer temporary amnesia last night?”
She turned to look at him, but then immediately faced forward again. “Oh, goodness, you’re not going to be cross about that, are you? I had to tell Gil that you were taking me home, but then I figured, why make you go out of your way—”
“I live next door, Vickie.”
“Even so,” she said.
Fin rolled his eyes. “I’m not an idiot, Vickie, I know what you’re doing.”
There was a beat of silence, and then, “I don’t know what on earth you’re talking about.”
“Victoria, your parents love you, you know that—”
“Actually, I don’t. But go on. I’m curious to see where this is leading.”
Fin sighed and started over. “All right, your parents probably love you—really deep down—and all they want is for you to be happy—”
“Funny, I just don’t see it that way.”
“Vick—”
“No!” She held up her hand in protest. “If this is what you want to talk about, then I’m going home. You may be able to charm my parents and bring out the best in them, but you don’t know them. Not the real them, anyhow. And why are you bringing this up? What does this have to do with last night?”
“It has to do with you needing to exercise your independence, which is why you left alone last night.”
“I wasn’t alone, I had Gil.”
Fin gritted his teeth. What an obstinate little—
“Is the lecture over now?” she asked.
“For now.”
“Good. Now, what have you been working on?”
“What makes you think I’ve been working on anything?” He didn’t care to share the subject of his most current work—not after their discussion. As a matter of fact, he might just toss the whole bloody thing out the window just to spite her.
“I’m not an idiot, either, Fin. Your hands are covered in paint.”
“It’s nothing important, really,” he said evasively. “Just another boring still life.”
They walked in silence for a few blocks, and Fin was grateful that it wasn’t uncomfortable. Not that it ever had been. Victoria was practically his closest friend. It was just that silences with most other women were uncomfortable. They always seemed nervous and desperate to fill the silence. But not Vickie. No, she was more than happy to keep her thoughts to herself.
Suddenly, that idea annoyed Fin. What the devil was she thinking about? Would she tell him if he asked? “A penny for your thoughts?” he ventured.
“What? Oh, they aren’t worth that much,” she replied with a nervous laugh.
How uncharacteristic of her. “Care to share them, anyway?”
She thought for a moment before replying. “No. At least, not until you tell me what you’re really working on.”
“You’re too smart for your own good, you know?”
Her self-satisfied smile made Fin want to laugh. “I know.”
The Robber Bride (Regency Historical Romance) Page 4
