Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Iam confessing entirely too much information to a stranger, Victoria shook her head. Do not be a fool, Victoria.
She could not decide the reason why the man had decided to follow her back to the manor, nor why he continued to engage in conversation with her. For a moment, she feared that he was another man whom her father had offered her hand to—assuming that that was what he was up to.
But he was smiling at her in a way she did not expect, as though he was inviting her to continue her sorry tale. There was an earnestness in his blue eyes that was endearing, if not a bit unsettling. When he smiled at her, dimples flashed in his cheeks, and she couldn’t help but find him handsome.
“I think it is a brave thing to be an unmarried woman by choice,” the man said. “It cannot be an easy life for you.”
Victoria swallowed the lump in her throat and looked away from him again, back toward the gardens she’d tried to escape to.
It wasn’t an easy life, but she’d have chosen it over and over again at every opportunity.
Her father was trying to take that choice away from her; she could feel it deep in her bones.
“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. “I did not mean to imply earlier that you were not a worthy suitor. I’m sorry if I insulted you.”
The man laughed, the sound carefree and tinged with surprise. “My lady, you have done nothing of the sort,” he said.
“And if you were interested in the young woman I deterred, I apologize for that as well,” she continued. “I acted rashly. It is marriage that I am against, sir, not you or her.”
“For good reason, I’m sure,” the man said.
Those dimples were still visible, though the smile had softened.
“And I was not interested in the debutante—in fact, thank you for saving me from her actions.” He chuckled.
“Or her mother’s, I suppose. Forgive me for taking so much of your time this evening. ”
Victoria shook her head, felt a loose strand of hair tickle against her cheek.
Hurriedly, she brushed it back behind her ear.
His blue eyes followed the movement, and heat rose in her cheeks.
“No, no,” she said to the ground. “Not at all. In fact, you’ve…
” She cleared her throat. “You’ve been rather pleasant to chat with. For a man.”
The man laughed, but a feeling not unlike guilt and disappointment swam in the pits of her stomach. She didn’t like that she found him pleasant; she would have preferred to find him abhorrent, like many of the other men she’d encountered in her life.
But she couldn’t deny that the subtle support he gave for her desire to remain unwed did much to charm her in his favor.
She still was unwavering in her need to stay separate, but perhaps having someone to talk to on occasion at these balls would not be wholly unwelcome.
At the very least, she felt heard in a way that she had not in some time.
“I appreciate the compliment,” he was saying, drawing her attention back. “You have been pleasant to talk to as well.”
“Victoria?”
It was Ivy. She was at the other end of the veranda, searching for her sister in the darkness. A sudden rush of panic filled her. What if her sister saw her speaking with this man? What would she —
Quicker than she could have imagined and without a word spoken, the man pressed his hands against the veranda railing and vaulted himself over and into the bushes.
With a gasp, Victoria leaned over the railing, searching for him, just as Ivy spotted her and rushed over. “There you are!”
She felt her sister’s hand against her back, rubbing in small circles. “Oh, are you not feeling well?”
Victoria’s eyes scanned the dark foliage, looking for any sign of the man. “I… I’m all right,” she said, finally turning away and toward her sister. “What are you doing out here?”
“I was looking for Father; I thought perhaps he was out getting some air.”
Her stomach dropped at the mention of her father. Pushing the thought aside, she gave her sister a wan smile. “I haven’t seen him out here,” she said. “Let’s go and search for him back in the ballroom.” The sooner she could get Ivy away, the sooner the man could escape from the bushes.
Ivy gave a nod and started back toward the ballroom. Before following her, Victoria looked down into the bushes once more and caught sight of a pair of deep blue eyes staring back at her. A grin broke through the darkness, and he winked at her.
Heat rising in her cheeks, she rushed away.
As she walked back inside, she was engulfed by the sound of music and chatter once more. No sooner had she stepped inside than there was the sound of a booming voice above it all.
“Victoria.”
She nearly jumped out of her skin. Her father was standing there, just inside the door, as if he’d been waiting there for her return. There was a neutral expression on his face. He hardly looked at her, but smiled down at Ivy, who curtsied and inclined her head. Victoria was frozen to the spot.
“You look dreadful,” Lord Corvin said, dark eyes returning to Victoria. “My wife says that you’re not feeling well this evening, and I can see she was correct. I shall escort you home so you may rest.”
“Mother and I will come, too,” Ivy said, but their father held up a hand.
“No, as I said, I’ve already spoken to her,” he said. “Stay and enjoy the ball, dear Ivy; this is your debut season, after all. Victoria and I will see you both back at home.”
Victoria could do nothing but try not to stumble after her father, her wrist held firmly in his hand. She felt Ivy’s gaze on her back, and glanced back at her sister to find her brows knit with worry. Victoria gave her a small, reassuring smile.
Once again, she was outside in the night air, and she allowed herself one deep breath to steady herself. Finally, she was going home. She was more than ready to put the night's events behind her.
“Have I done something wrong?” Victoria asked, noting the tight way he held her wrist. “Are you angry with me?”
“I am just eager to be going home,” he said.
Victoria gave a wistful smile. There was not a lot that she had inherited from her father, but his dislike of the ton and its social events was one.
He ushered her toward their carriage, and she climbed in and settled herself on the bench seat.
He took the spot across from her, and moments later, the driver was pulling away from the manor and into the night.
Lord Corvin drew the curtain across the window so that she could not see out, which made it awfully dark inside the carriage.
“Thank you for escorting me home,” Victoria said hesitantly after a few beats of silence.
Her father scoffed. “You’re of no use to me ill,” he said.
Use. She hadn’t been of use to him in quite some time if you were to ask him, she was certain.
“Still, though,” she tried again. “I am sorry that I caused you to cut your evening short.”
“My business for the evening had already concluded; I would not cut an occasion short otherwise.”
Her heart sank, and she leaned her cheek against the padded interior of the carriage. What business? She was sure she knew, and that it wasn’t business she was going to like.
I’ll have to prepare myself to deter potential suitors once more, I suppose, she mused, a low thrum of dread settling into her bones. It has been a while since gentlemen callers were sent my way, but I will find a way around them. I always have.
Never mind the mental and emotional toll it had taken on her to do so, but that was beside the point.
“Victoria.”
Her father’s voice was firm, drawing her out of her thoughts. “Yes?”
“It is time we had a talk about your future in this family.”
And there it is. She sighed quietly. “My future?”
“I will not tolerate your ridiculous notion of remaining a spinster anymore—it is time you were married and out of my hands.” If she had expected there to be any gentleness to his words, she did not find any.
She tried to keep her voice from wobbling. “Father, I thought we had settled this matter,” she said calmly, deferentially. “I have already moved out of our home—”
“My home.”
“—your home and into a home of my own.” Her palms were sweating; she twisted her fingers together in her lap. “I cause you no trouble that I can think of, but if you have any complaints for me, I am happy to remedy them.”
She could practically hear the rolling of eyes in his voice. “The complaint I have is that you refuse to marry. What self-respecting earl allows his daughter to remain so defiant? No, Victoria. You will marry. It is no longer a request.”
If the carriage floor had dropped out from beneath her feet, it would have caused her less pain. “But, Father— ”
“I have already spoken to some of the gentlemen from the ton. You are fortunate that they would even consider the prospect of marrying you, given your plainness.”
The blows kept coming, and Victoria shrank back against the seat, silently grateful that it was dark enough in the carriage that her father couldn’t see her tears.
This was not the first time he had insulted her looks, nor would it be the last, she was sure.
That did not mean the words stung any less.
She squeezed her eyes shut, felt her fingernails biting against her palms. He was never going to understand her.
She was a fool to think that her father was ever going to come around to loving her.
When she was younger, it was something she’d dreamed out; now, a quarter of a century into her father appearing to hate her, she could take no more.
“All right,” she said quietly, cutting off her father’s tirade.
He paused. “All right?”
Her eyes were still shut, though she imagined she wouldn’t have been able to decipher his expression even if she could see it. “I… I will try. With whichever men you send my way. I will try courting them.”
He was silent for a moment, as if waiting for her to declare she’d only been joking. Then, “Good. I am glad to hear it. Perhaps you’ll turn out not to be such a disappointment after all.”
His parting shot was unnecessary; she knew he had said it only to further destabilize her, and he wasn’t entirely unsuccessful. Still, though, determination lingered. She would find a way around the men that would try to court her, she was sure that she would. She had to.
Somehow.
The carriage rolled to a stop. Victoria straightened up, eyes opening. “Is something the matter?” she asked, looking toward her father. “We cannot have arrived home yet.”
Her father said nothing, just opened the carriage door and stepped outside, holding out his hand to her to help her down. Victoria took his hand as bidden and stepped carefully out of the carriage, looking around.
Voices filtered out from the building they now stood across from, masculine and rowdy, occasionally interrupted by a chorus of cheers. Victoria had never been there, but she recognized the type of establishment immediately.
This was a gentlemen’s club.