Chapter 13
Victor paced the small green salon back and forth, trying to focus on the air wafting in through the open doors that went out into the gardens. He had not paced in a very long time. He, in general, was not a pacer.
No, not at all.
He was a doer.
People who paced usually had a great deal of pent-up energy inside them and it needed to be let out. He never had an issue with energy being let out through pacing. No, he boxed. He pummeled things. He hit faces that needed to be hit.
But this sort of energy that he had now was new. Yes, he had known many amorous affairs over the years, but he had never felt the sort of curiosity and desire for a young woman that was so entirely separate from what one might consider to be his usual thing, which was to have affairs.
He wanted her for his wife.
He didn’t wish to have an affair with Miss Ernestine Foxley. He’d known it from their first meeting, and he wasn’t going to pretend otherwise. He was seeking, pursuing, and now tempting her.
Not in the usual sort of way, with silks and jewels and chocolates and beautiful things. Oh no. She was not like that, and so he had to tempt her in uniquely singular ways. He prayed that the invitation had done the trick.
If it had not, he would be pacing the salon for a good long time. And if she did not show up, he was likely going to have to storm across the room, pick up the decanter of brandy, and drink until he had gone brainless, because everything that he was accustomed to working was not.
His usual ability to speak to ladies had not aided him. She seemed determined to stay away from him, though that seemed uniquely arrogant of him to think. Perhaps she was simply in her room because she did not feel well, but he’d rather suspected it was because he had pursued her.
She had other plans.
Plans that did not include him, and she seemed determined to stick to those plans. Perhaps it was devilish of him to wish to tear her away from said plans, and yet somehow he felt that he must.
The door snicked open.
“My lord,” Miss Foxley said as she slipped in, her pale blue gown with its full skirt whispering over her curved frame.
A thrill washed through him and he stopped his pacing, closed his eyes for a few moments, and simply savored the sound of that voice slipping over him.
It was better than any caress. Better than any jewel, better than any crown or coronet or title. That voice, her voice.
He turned to her then, his long coat swinging about his legs. “Miss Foxley,” he said, “you did come.”
She cleared her throat. “Well, I must admit, sir, that your invitation piqued my curiosity.”
He smiled slowly. “I thought it might, and you are quite a curious young lady.”
She arched a brow. “Do you mean to say that I am curious, or that curiosity is one of my virtues?”
“Both,” he said.
She snorted a laugh.
Oh God, how he loved how she looked.
“You’ve done something to your hair,” he suddenly blurted.
She winced. “You don’t like it? Wait…” She straightened as if she found her question to be most silly. “Of course, I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me and the Duke of Rivers.”
“The Duke of Rivers?” he queried.
“Yes,” she explained, clutching her parasol and fan.
“He sent me a lady’s maid and I didn’t want to offend him, as I was clearly on the verge of doing, and she wanted to do my hair.
And if I told her no, the poor duke would have been dismayed.
And how could I repay him thus? He did invite me and my cousins and my aunt and I would hate…
” She suddenly stopped. “I’m rambling,” she said. “It seems I have a case of nerves.”
“Why are you nervous?” he asked softly.
She bit her full, pink lower lip, then said quite frankly, “Because I’m with you.”
“I make you nervous?” he said softly.
“Of course you do,” she said.
“Why is that?” he asked, astonished. He thought he had done such a good job all his life of making ladies comfortable with him, but she was not.
“Because you make me question everything that I’ve always thought I wanted,” she said. “How could that not make me nervous or uncomfortable?”
He sucked in a soft breath. “You do the same to me, you know.”
“I make you nervous?” she queried.
“I don’t know if I’d use that word exactly,” he said. “But everything you described? I feel it. You make me want things that I didn’t know I wanted before. Of course, every earl must marry, but you’ve made me awaken to the fact that I get to marry, and I can choose who I marry, and I—”
“I beg your pardon,” she cut in, her eyes flashing with a hint of panic. “We are not discussing marriage, are we? Between us? I did not think—”
He lifted a hand. “I am getting far too far ahead of myself. No. Of course not,” he said. “But I must let you know that I admire you deeply. I have admired you since the moment you wielded your parasol at that fool of a man.”
“I brought it with me,” she said, whipping it up.
“Good,” he said, “because it is extremely important for what I have planned.”
“A walk?” she asked brightly. “I have been feeling rather trapped, so I do hope it is a good long one.”
He winced. “Well, that was not exactly…”
But then he stopped.
If she wanted to walk, by God, he would take her on one. She deserved whatever she wanted, and if all she was asking for was a good stretch of the legs, well, he’d start there.
“The walk,” he said, “will be a precursor to what I have in store for you. Will you take my arm?”
“I suppose that’s what a lady is meant to do with a lord such as yourself.” She strode forward in her simple gown and placed her hand atop his.
“Then off we go,” he said, thrilling at the touch of her small hand atop his.
And he guided her outside and began to walk, remembering to shorten his stride.
Much to his surprise, her pace began to outdo his.
“Must you walk quite so slowly?” she asked with some consternation. “Are you feeling unwell? If you are, of course, I shall slow down.”
“Not a bit,” he said, unable to stop his laugh. “I am simply used to ladies wishing to take their time.”
“I cannot go too slow,” she confessed. “It will drive me positively mad. Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” he said. If anything, he enjoyed it. And it reminded him a bit of Viscount Skyburn and his endless need to be on the move.
Victor picked up his pace, leading her to a small, walled Italian garden. He headed down along the lake and found the walled area that bore what looked like a small round castle.
“What a delightful folly,” she breathed, taking it in.
“It is, isn’t it?”
“I have to admit,” she gushed, her face softening, “I do like the fantastical nature of such things. They make me, for a moment, feel like a little girl again.”
“In what way?” he asked, thrilled that he had found something to please her.
“Didn’t you ever play knights and ladies and all that sort of thing when you were little?”
He considered, but he couldn’t recall. He had vague recollections of sticks as swords. “I suppose I did, yes, when I was very small. I loved to pretend to wield a sword.”
“And you?” he queried. “Were you a maiden fair in the tower?”
“No, not at all,” she said, beaming. “I was a knight who charged in to rescue my cousin.”
He laughed. “That fits,” he said. “I think it wonderful.”
“Yes, so do I. I did enjoy the idea of rescuing her.”
He wanted to rescue Ernestine, but he rather wondered if she needed it at all. Yes, she had needed assistance from the aspersions cast by the Duke of Lindly’s son, but she seemed quite content without anyone telling her what to do.
If anything, his attempts to help her recently had caused her distress, and he felt quite terrible about that.
“I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable,” he said, “in the last days. It’s just that I enjoy your company so much, and I wanted more of it. Is that so very terrible?”
She swallowed. “Not at all, especially when you say it like that. I feel quite the bounder for having avoided you. It’s simply…”
“Yes?” he said gently.
“I don’t like England,” she rushed, her gloved hand twisting about her parasol, “and I’ve wanted to escape for so long. I can’t have anything getting in the way of that, you see?”
He nodded, quite relieved she’d been so honest with him. “I understand your sentiment. even if I don’t understand the cause.”
“You don’t have to understand,” she said. “It’s simply that I feel terribly strange about all of this. Why did you ask me to bring my parasol and a fan?” she asked bluntly. “For once, there’s not a cloud in the sky.”
He laughed. “Yes, it’s rather marvelous, isn’t it?”
“It’s hot,” she said, grinning. “I adore it. But you still haven’t explained.”
“I thought that it would be good form for me to teach you how to use female articles effectively.”
She stared at him for a long time, cocked her head to the side, and said, “Forgive me, my lord, but I cannot see you twirling a parasol or waving a fan to better effect than myself, even though I am not particularly ladylike when it comes to such things.”
He stared at her for a long moment and then burst out laughing. Again. “You’ve mistaken me,” he said. “I do not intend to teach you how to shield yourself from the sun or flutter your fan in a flirtatious manner.”
“Oh?” she asked, her brows rising. “Then what do you propose?”
“I will teach you how to use these items to ward off men like Allworthy.”
“Oh,” she said. “That does sound appealing. I’ve never been allowed to learn how to fight, but it does seem like a terribly useful thing for a young lady.”
“I won’t teach you fighting,” he said, “though I can teach you some grappling if you want. But things like boxing or fencing? They won’t aid you.
You see, anything that has a great deal of rules cannot be used in real life.
You’re also never going to be as big or as strong as your opponent.
Your parasol and a fan, on the other hand, are splendid weapons. ”
“Are they?” she breathed. “The parasol was fairly good, though I feared it would break. But how can the fan be?”
He waggled his brows. “If you’d like, I can give you the name of an excellent weapons maker who will put a blade into the end of your parasol. And then you can make certain that someone like Allworthy never bothers you again.”
“Are you suggesting murder, sir?” she asked with a touch too much enthusiasm.
“Dissuasion,” he said with a smile.
“You are artful in your words.”
He smiled. “Just wait and see.”
God, he wanted her to see how he could be good with words, how he could be good with her. But he had a rather strong feeling that with Ernestine, seduction was not going to be effective in wordplay or gentle looks, but through practical actions in everyday life.