“Your father wishes to see you,” said her mother.
Closing the cookbook, Victoria rose from her chair. When she reached her mother’s side, the duchess took the book from her hands, saying, “You won’t be needing this, my clever girl.”
With growing trepidation, she followed Lady Anne out of the sitting room and downstairs to the Duke of Mowbray’s study. When they reached the door of her father’s private room, Victoria caught the sound of male voices. The tone of the conversation was light and friendly. Her father had a guest; that was nothing unusual.
The door opened and Victoria stepped back, making way for her father’s visitor whom she expected must be about to leave. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied the male figure exiting her father’s study.
It was Robert Tolley, the Duke of Saffron Walden. Heart racing, she immediately lowered her gaze.
Oh, god why is he here?
“Your Grace.”
“Your Grace.”
Victoria’s afternoon tea churned in her stomach as she was forced to endure listening to her mother and the Duke of Saffron Walden greet one another. It was all so polite, so formal.
If Mama had the foggiest about what he and I got up to last night, she’d have her hands at his throat. Then she’d come for me.
“You remember my daughter Lady Victoria, Your Grace. The two of you met at the dinner party the other night.”
Teeth gritted, Victoria raised her head and looked once more into those eyes. The glint of something dark and dangerous stared back at her.
Robert bowed. “Lady Victoria. What a delight to see you again. And I trust I shall see you again very soon.”
She bobbed a brief curtsey, fearing that if she dropped into a full dip, she would faint. “Your Grace,” whispered Victoria.
From out of his study, the Duke of Mowbray appeared. He nodded to his wife. “Dearest, would you please see His Grace to the front door. I need a private moment alone with Victoria. Then you and I shall talk. We have many plans to discuss.”
Robert gave Victoria a low bow, then taking Lady Anne by the arm, the two of them headed for the stairs.
She turned her gaze from them to her father, who held out a hand and ushered her into his study. “Victoria.”
The Duke of Mowbray’s study was a small, warm space with dark oak bookshelves lining all the walls, right to the ceiling. It was rare for any of the Kembal offspring to enter this place willingly. If one was summoned to Clifford’s study, a paternal lecture was usually in the offing. The only other time Victoria made it her business to be in this room was when she was busy stealing one of her father’s bottles of whisky.
Hands clasped gently in front of her, Victoria stood just inside the doorway. It was a fool’s notion to think she could flee, but if Robert had been here to see her father, she didn’t want to make herself too comfortable.
“Make yourself comfortable.” Her father motioned for her to take a seat in one of the overstuffed black leather couches which sat in the middle of the room. She’d always found it odd that every man’s study she’d ever been in was set out exactly like this one, a desk and a pair of low sofas in the center.
Hands fisted tightly into nervous balls, Victoria sat perched on the edge of the couch cushion. Her father crossed the floor and went to his liquor tray. “Whisky?” he asked.
She was about to make mention that she didn’t drink strong liquor, but the look the duke gave her was enough to tell her that he knew full well who the whisky thief was in their household.
“Just a sniff, please Papa.”
He handed her a drink, before taking up a seat on the couch opposite to hers. He raised his glass. “Congratulations. The Duchess of Saffron Walden. That’s a solid title. Well done, Victoria. Your Mama is thrilled beyond words.”
She set the glass on the nearest low table, fearing that her trembling hands might not be able to hold it. “What did he say?”
The duke sighed. “He offered for your hand, and after he had explained a few of the things which took place between the two of you last night, I felt it only right to accept on your behalf.”
Heat burned on her cheeks. Just what exactly had Robert told her father? She’d die if it was everything. Victoria swallowed deep, quietly praying that a large chasm would open up in the floor and take her.
Her father sat forward on the couch. “I know that he found you in his garden in the middle of the night. That you and he spent time alone together in his house. He vaguely alluded to something else having happened but didn’t say what. But you having been alone with him is more than enough reason for His Grace to come here today and offer for your hand in marriage.”
Robert had succumbed to an attack of noble urges and decided to offer for her. The man who had tied her to a chair last night was now about to become her fiancé.
This wasn’t the first time in their extended family that a marriage had occurred after such an incident. Her cousin Lucy, the daughter of the Duke of Strathmore, had faced a similar situation only a year ago. She and her now husband had been caught red-handed, in flagrante, in the garden at a party. And they had only been kissing. But Lucy and Avery had been in love, they just hadn’t realized it.
