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“Very well,” agreed Amelia, the words slipping weakly from between her pale lips. “I am willing to try your plan.”
“Then I shall go at once,” he said, bowing. He then excused himself to await Withy’s release from captivity.
He would speak with him first, convince him to press suit for Victoria, and then gain consent to court Amelia. He would figure out how to make the switch later.
“A SUCCESSFUL EVENING all around,” Papa announced as their carriage rolled away from Devonshire House. “Although you, Victoria, owe me an explanation regarding the state of your gown.” He sighed. “Though I suppose it is a moot point now. Yes. A most successful night, indeed.”
Moot point? “You are not angry?” Victoria ventured meekly.
“How can I be?” her father chuckled. “I could not have asked for a better outcome than this, certainly.”
“Do you think Mama would approve?” asked Amelia, earning an unseen glare from Victoria.
“Your mother would be quite proud, I think,” he answered. “Cavendish is an excellent catch.”
Victoria jerked her head up as the bottom fell from her stomach. What? Cavendish had gone and done exactly what she’d begged him not to do! The fact that her father wasn’t exploding with rage, however, was mystifying.
“I confess I am a bit surprised you’d settle for a second son, but it matters not to me as long as you are pleased,” he continued blithely, further stunning her. “As for you, Victoria, Marquess Withington’s request to court you could not have come at a better time, and though I hold the motivation for his petition highly suspect, I shall count it a blessing.”
Her confusion was complete. “Marquess Withington has asked to court me, as well?”
“Both Withington and Cavendish approached me this evening, and I have given my approval. You are both to be commended for a successful campaign.”
Victoria was utterly flabbergasted. Both to be commended…the words struck her as strange. “Wait, you are certain Lord Withington asked permission to court me?”
“You seemed well aware of his interest when you introduced him,” her father replied, an edge to his voice.
“Of course, Papa,” she said, striving not to let her panic show. “But I certainly didn’t expect him to come to scratch so very quickly. We’ve only just met, after all.”
He grunted agreement. “Yes, well. You seem to have made quite an impression on the lad. One must hope it was the right kind of impression. In the future, I expect you to conduct yourself with all the propriety you lacked this evening.”
“And…Lord Cavendish? He also asked permission?”
He chuckled with genuine pleasure. “Ah, yes. Now there’s a fine match, if I do say so. Splendid lad. Well done, Amelia.”
Amelia? What the devil is going on here? A lamp on the street cast its faint glow into the carriage, and she ventured a cautious peek at Amelia. A faint smile hovered about her sister’s lips. The distinct odor of a double cross yelled in Victoria’s nostrils. When Amelia arched a knowing brow at her, she knew she’d been had.
Cavendish!
She didn’t know how he’d done it, but somehow the man had gotten Amelia to cooperate with him in some awful scheme. As for Withington, she had no idea whether or not he was complicit, but she suspected the worst. The men were friends, after all.
Her temper flared at the thought of being made a fool. “Why, Amelia, I’d no idea you were so interested in flowers,” she simpered. “I thought they made you sneeze.”
“One can tolerate many things for the sake of love,” replied Amelia with a nasty smile. “The fact of the matter is that I find Lord Cavendish’s knowledge of the natural world most intriguing.”
Victoria ground her teeth. His knowledge of the “natural world” was quite extraordinary, indeed. “I’m so very glad for you, Amelia,” she sighed. “I found him terribly dull, myself; but then our interests are quite different. I imagine the two of you will make a fine match in every way.”
“As will you and Marquess Withington, I expect,” said Amelia. “Your mutual love of gardening, particularly of mazes, should keep you well in conversation for many years to come.”
Victoria’s mouth fell open—the little sneak had been spying on her! So, that’s how it was to be. Well, if it was war Amelia wanted, then war she would have. “I can indeed envision us happily growing old together, even as I can see you and Lord Cavendish doing the same. Although, at your age, you’ll see your decline somewhat sooner than I.”
Her sister sucked in a sharp breath, but her next salvo was cut off before it could be launched.
“Enough!” interjected their father. “You should be grateful, Victoria. Had your sister not intervened and vouched for Withington, I should never have allowed his suit. The man is a piece of work and no mistake—but he is a friend of Cavendish’s, and I dared not endanger her prospects by refusing him. Now, I want no more bickering between you! A man can hardly think in the presence of such carping. God forbid that these gentlemen ever hear the two of you squabbling like a pair of angry fishwives!”
Victoria seethed. It was a mistake, a horrible mistake! And to top it off, her father had all but sold her to Withington, a man he didn’t even approve of, all for the sake of Amelia’s “match” with Cavendish!
“When may we expect to see Lords Cavendish and Withington?” her sister asked smoothly.
