“He’s right. You will be ruined.”
“I don’t care. What life awaits me, what awaits you? It’s all so meaningless. Parties. Balls. And rules.”
Ignoring her sister’s self-pity, Victoria crossed to the wardrobe and flung it open. “Come and help me choose a gown for you to wear. You have less than an hour to make yourself presentable. If you are not ready by then, I shall come back and drag you downstairs myself.”
She would leave it up to Coco as to whether she would risk walking in Hyde Park in a state of anything less than perfect dress.
The blankets were mercifully tossed back, and Coco swung her legs over the side of the bed. “You are just like everyone else, beastly to me,” she huffed.
The only person who is horrible to you, is yourself.
How many times had she wished to say that to Coco. To confront her with the truth that she was indeed her own worst enemy. That this was all going to end in tears. Only sibling loyalty kept Victoria from telling their parents. But the longerthis went on, the more the worry that she might also be contributing to the problem was growing on her.
Coco now stood beside the bed, head lowered. Misery and the miasma of alcohol seeped from her pores. Victoria’s pity stirred. She came to her sister’s side and took a gentle hold of her hand. “Let me fetch you some tea and a dry biscuit. You need to get something in your stomach. Get out of your street clothes, then ring the bell for your maid. I shall let Mama know you will ready to leave at eleven.”
She got a nod and a soft, “Yes, thank you,” before she let go of Coco’s hand and headed for the door.
Coco had rallied by the time they alighted from the Mowbray town carriage at Hyde Park little over an hour later. It was only a fifteen minute stroll from Berkley Square to the gates of Hyde Park, but Victoria convinced Richard to speak to the stablemaster and have the carriage brought round. Her brother had initially protested, but when his gaze landed on the ashen-faced Lady Coco, he had immediately caved.
“Lord help us, if Mama or Papa catch sight of her. There will be an immediate inquisition, and we will all be dragged in front of it,” he grumbled.
Lord Richard wasn’t a fool. If Coco received a grilling by their parents, there was every chance she’d throw one of her siblings into the mix in order to save herself. Richard’s gambling habit would be the perfect foil for her own misdeeds.
At the park, the two brothers walked a little way ahead of their sisters. Close enough to stamp their authority aschaperones, but at a distance where their own conversations couldn’t be overhead by Victoria or Coco. It suited everyone.
The sisters walked slowly arm in arm. Coco was clearly struggling, but to her credit was making an effort. “How did your dinner party go last night?” asked Coco.
Getting her sibling into a presentable enough condition to leave the house had concentrated Victoria’s mind for the past while. Her sister’s question brought the painful humiliation rushing back.
“The food was fine. Though it could have done with more seasoning.”
Coco gave her a sideways glance. “I might be a little hungover, but even I know you were meant to be concentrating on more than just the table offerings last night. Did you meet the Duke of Saffron Walden?”
Victoria slowed her steps, letting a little more distance grow between them and their brothers who continued along the path. She leaned in close and whispered, “Yes, I met the duke. To say that the man was a rude pig would be an understatement.”
Coco’s red-rimmed eyes grew wide. “Do tell. I’d heard he was rather handsome. Well turned out thighs and a pleasant physique.”
She sincerely wished his grace wasn’t as ruggedly good-looking as he was—it would make hating him all that much easier. Memories of the moment he’d bowed his head and moved close to her, took hold in her mind. His scent, the spice of his cologne. Those lips.
Damn it, why did he have to be so…
Her brain was still scrambling to finish that thought as Victoria shoved against it with all her might. She was not going to let herself think of him that way.
“Well, what happened?”
Coco wasn’t going to let the subject go. Her sister was a great one for finding out secrets, for knowing the power they held.
Victoria sighed. “When I offered my opinion on the subject of a dish, he didn’t engage me in conversation, rather he spoke down to me. Like I was a child. Then he mocked me in front of the other guests.”
Coco let out a low whistle. “I’m surprised you didn’t stab him with a fish knife. Or a blunt spoon. Tell me you didn’t let him get away with such an outrage.”
“I can’t understand why some men think that we females don’t have an appreciation of good food. That somehow being a woman renders my palate mute.”
The fingers of her left hand tightened on the strings of her reticule. Frustrating self-important males were the bane of her life.
“Go on.”
“He was just horrible to me, and it took all my strength not to burst into tears at the table.”
