He wanted her to join him in his bedchamber.
He wanted her to walk into his arms and hold him with the same care and devotion she showed the children.
But none of that happened.
Rafe nodded. “Very good,” he said stiffly. “I’m sure we are all fatigued from traveling. Perhaps supper in our rooms is in order.”
A hint of surprise shone in her wide eyes, but it was masked quickly. Before she could respond, Rafe forced himself to turn on his heel and cross the hallway to the final bedchamber and shut himself away.
Leaning back against the door and closing his eyes did nothing to erase the knowledge of just how tantalizingly close Victoria was.
Chapter Eighteen
Victoria took adetour through the kitchen gardens after speaking to the cook about that evening’s meal. She was determined that Dominic’s ninth birthday supper would consist of all his favorite foods, bountiful desserts, and a special surprise. The idea had been planted in her mind weeks earlier, but now she had an excuse to act upon it. Following a day filled with all the outdoor adventures a boy could imagine, presents hidden away in trunks carried from London, and lovingly crafted decorations she and the staff had made from patterned wallpaper remnants, Dominic would join her and Rafe for a meal in the dining room.
Indeed, it had been confirmed to Victoria that children did not typically join adults at the dinner table, but he really had been remarkably well-behaved as of late, and it was his birthday, besides. What better way to celebrate than to make him feel special and grown up?
She hadn’t bothered asking Rafe’s permission for her plan, but it was less out of fear that he would naysay it, and more so because she enjoyed keeping her own confidence and witnessing the reactions. She wanted to believe her husband would welcome the change on this special occasion and bend tradition for his nephew’s sake.
She hoped Rafe would not prove her wrong.
Victoria was so lost in her plans that she did not realize she was no longer alone until she nearly collided with Rafe at the end of a row of turnips. The solid wall of male muscle was as immovable as the ancient garden boarder. She would have fallen back to her rear had his hands not caught her shoulders and steadied her.
“That must have been quite the wool you were gathering.” Rafe’s chuckle sent a thrill of awareness dancing from the head to her toes and then settled beneath the warmth of his hands on her. “I said your name twice as I approached. I did not mean to catch you unaware.”
“I—I did not hear you,” she stammered lamely.
“So I’ve learned.” His smirk was maddeningly attractive.
Victoria gave herself a little shake, but it was ineffective at resetting her equilibrium because he had yet to release her shoulders. “Is there something you needed?”
“I was going to invite you for a walk, but I can see you’re already enjoying one. Unless I can convince you to prolong your outing?”
The tilt of his head.
The glitter in his eye.
That blasted charming lock of dark hair falling across his forehead.
The closeness of his warmth.
The woodsy scent.
Those hands on her shoulders.
The thumbs gently stroking her collarbone.
How could she resist?
“I might.”
The pleased grin he gave her weakened her knees so swiftly, they might have buckled completely had he not been so swift and smooth in pulling her arm through his and tugging her into motion.
“I did not realize you had such an interest in vegetables,” he remarked, toeing a drooping cabbage leaf out of their path.
“It’s less about the gardens and more about the fresh air. I was waylaid on my way back from the kitchens,” she explained. “The weather seemed far too fair not to enjoy.”
“And you decided to walk amongst the peas and the…what are those?”
