The Robber Bride (Regency Historical Romance)
Page 6
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“You wished to see me, mother?” Victoria crossed the threshold into her mother’s favorite room. Victoria didn’t understand why she favored it so much. It was quite manly, with dark woods and fabrics, and it abutted to the next house—Fin’s house—so it got very little sunlight.
Victoria preferred the front drawing room, which looked out onto the street. It was sunnier and far more interesting than this dungeon.
“Sit down,” Lady Grantham instructed. Once Victoria had done as she bade, her mother finally looked up at her with a serene smile on her face. “Your brother has returned from Jamaica.”
Victoria’s eyes widened with her surprise, but she wasn’t quite sure what to say to the news. Of course, she was happy her brother had returned safely from abroad, but . . . well, part of her wished he hadn’t returned at all. At least, not yet, anyway.
“I know, this comes as quite a shock,” her mother continued, not bothering to wait for a reaction from her daughter. “We really thought he’d be there forever. His letters indicated he was quite happy. Nonetheless, we must make the most of his return.”
Oh, no. Victoria had an idea of where this was leading and she didn’t like it one bit.
“I will alert him to your social schedule so that he may accompany you from now on. It isn’t good that you’re seen practically everywhere with Lord Leyburn. I know he fancies himself like an older brother to you, but the fact of the matter is that he is not. Other gentlemen must see him as your suitor, and who would dare challenge the earl? He’s more handsome than the other gentlemen by leaps and bounds . . .”
As her mother carried on, Victoria’s mind churned with all the tactics she would have to use to escape her brother. And Fin. Good heavens, how would she evade two of them? And why did they care so much about what she did? She was twenty-four years old, for goodness sake; she could take care of herself.
Of course, she couldn’t tell her mother that she only maintained a social calendar in order to rob the richest and the rudest, so she simply smiled and nodded her head whenever her mother looked her way.
“Well, that is all. You are excused. Oh, and I’ve had Lily set out your white gown for this evening.”
White? “White, mother?”
Lady Grantham didn’t look up from the menu she perused when she replied, “Yes, of course. It’s high time you started acting like a debutante instead of an old maid.”
“I hardly think wearing yellow or green places me in the category of old maid—”
Her mother turned sharp eyes on her. “I thought perhaps with age you would come to respect me better, but I see you only grow more defiant with each passing day. However, you still live here, in my house, and therefore you will follow my orders. Is that understood?”
Victoria’s shoulders twitched with the effort of keeping her hands by her sides rather than wrapping them about her mother’s neck. It took her a moment to gain control of her voice, but at last she said, “Perfectly,” and then left the room.