“In three days.”
Lydia dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin. Victor glanced at her and became extraordinarily concerned with a dollop of jam that lingered in the corner of her mouth. It was trapped between her lips, a glistening scarlet drop. It was the color of passion, desire, and danger.
Victor felt something stirring within him. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and yet he could not force his gaze away. It was as though that speck of jam had cast a spell upon him although, of course, it was not the jam at all that was so captivating but rather the lips on which it had been captured.Those soft, pillowy lips were slightly parted and pursed, and for some reason, they loomed large in his mind.
There was a whisper of a memory, a feeling that somehow, he knew how they felt. Color rose to his cheeks, and he sipped his tea as he tried to hide this most unwanted reaction. It came out of nowhere, and he could not understand where it had emerged from. He certainly did not know how Lydia’s lips felt, and yet the ghost of them haunted him.
“Of course, we should attend, but I do worry about leaving John. Would it be possible to take him, along with the maids and Georgia?”
“I see no reason why not. In fact, it will probably be a promising idea, for then it will add legitimacy to our family.”
“Indeed,” Lydia said although again there was a guarded quality to her tone.
“Lydia, have I done something wrong?” he asked.
“Do you feel as though you have done something wrong?” she countered.
He stared in her eyes. The way she looked at him implied that he had made a mistake somewhere along the way, but he honestly could not think of what he might have done to offend her.
“No,” he replied honestly.
Lydia clenched her jaw. He watched it shift as she grinded her teeth.
“Then you have your answer,” she said. Victor exhaled deeply. The ways of women would always confound him. Why his brother wanted to throw his heart into that kind of chaos eluded him completely.
“I have made arrangements for a modiste to visit you. I’m sure she will be able to alter a gown for you in time,” Victor said.
Lydia tilted her head to the side.
“I already have suitable gowns.”
“Appearances must be exact, not merely suitable. The gowns you own were made for someone attempting to attract suitors. The gown of a wife must be different from the gown of a debutante.”
Lydia arched an eyebrow. “I did not realize you paid so much attention to gowns,” she said.
“I pay attention to everything that concerns my household.”
“I see, so I assume that you will judge the gowns before I choose one. I would hate to make a choice that offends you,” she said. There was an added weight to her words, and he wondered if she was alluding to his treatment of Harry. If she was, he certainly was not going to rise to the bait. She seemed to be in a surprisingly combative mood, and he was not sure why.
Victor thought that things had improved between them, especially after he had taken a more active role in caring for John. There was no pleasing some people, however, and he feared that Lydia was one of these fastidious people.
Given that he was aware she was testing him and likely did not want him to judge the gowns at all, he decided to call her bluff.
“Actually, that is not a bad idea. Thank you for suggesting it. I shall indeed choose the most appropriate gown. We must put our best foot forward after all.”
“Indeed, we would not want to cause any further scandal.”
“Then might I suggest that you refrain from entering any forbidden parts of the estate. I would hate for you to get into trouble again.”
“Then you should not burst into rooms without knocking, and you might like to keep a closer eye on everything that happens under your roof. For someone who appears so concerned, you missed a baby,” Lydia replied.
Victor cleared his throat and drummed his fingers on the table. She had a rejoinder for everything he said, and it was the most annoying feature of her attitude. More to the point, she was right. It vexed him how a child could have invaded his home without him knowing. The ball had taken all of his attention, but if he had been just a little more observant…
Well, it did not matter now. The deed had been done, and the child was not going anywhere.
“Is there anything else you would ask of me to ensure that we make a good impression at the ball?” Lydia asked.
“Nothing comes to mind, but I shall consider the matter and let you know if something arises.”
