Page 9

She felt as if she were being… observed. Stalked. Hunted? Like a fawn under the penetrating gaze of a Siberian tiger.

Suddenly cold, she wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her upper arms. One thing was certain, though: this sensation had nothing to do with the man before her, who, for some unfathomable reason, elicited no feelings from her whatsoever.

“Do you want me to bring you a drink?” Lord Porter’s voice jolted her out of her stupor.

How long had she been standing there silently? Victoria shook her head and stepped closer. “No. I’d rather you stayed.”

She needed to stay focused. What else had her sister said in her letters about seduction? Everything you need to know about a man is in his kiss. Lean closer with your face tilted toward him. If he takes you enthusiastically and shivers cover your arms at his touch, relax and enjoy the rest. If his kiss makes your head spin and his hands lead your body in a sensual dance, then he shall make certain you will enjoy the rest.

Remembering further instructions, she reached out and touched his arm lightly, her finger only grazing his coat. There. His gaze followed her finger’s movements. Subtly leaning into him, her face tilted up, she silently asked for a kiss.

Or at least, that was what she thought she was doing. She was following her sister’s instructions, and if anyone knew anything about seduction and liaisons, it was her sister.

She’d had two lovers at the same time who adored her, and her husband, who was jealous of that attention, yet still bowed to her every whim. And she was incredibly happy with her relationships prior to her imprisonment.

And if her sister could find three people to bed, surely Victoria could get one person to kiss her.

Instead, Lord Porter furrowed his brows and steadied her, pushing her away, “Are you unwell? Are you about to swoon?”

“What?” Victoria flushed from embarrassment. Had she done it wrong?

“I don’t have smelling salts on me, but I surely can—”

Oh, Boje! Victoria couldn’t take it any longer. “Kiss me, Gregory! Please!” And although she had said please, as English people always did when they asked for anything, it wasn’t a plea. It was a demand.

“Kiss you?” He looked confused and rather shaken to the core. “Now? Here?”

“Yes, here.”

His cheeks turned deep red, and finally, he stepped closer, his eyes flickering with anticipation.

Snap!

The sound of a breaking branch nearby jolted them apart.

“Forgive me, Princess,” Lord Porter stammered. “But we may be caught here.”

Interesting. If he was worried about getting caught, then perhaps he wasn’t interested in marriage at all. Another good sign. Although his cowardice left a lot to be desired.

He offered his arm. “Perhaps we should—”

Victoria shook her head, not letting him finish his sentence. She wasn’t ready to go back to the suffocating ballroom. “I would like to be left alone.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes, I still feel rather warm,” she lied.

As he sketched a low bow and skittered away, Victoria cursed under her breath.

What did I do wrong?

Was she just not enticing enough to kiss? Was she to spend the rest of her days completely alone?

The sound of crunching leaves alerted her to approaching footsteps. Had he returned? Was he finally going to kiss her?

Victoria turned, but instead of Lord Porter, enveloped by the shadows stood the silhouette of a man she could never mistake for anyone else.

Her husband.