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“It is not impossible,” he countered, smiling a little. “It is merely a challenge.”
“You don’t know my sister.”
“Well, actually, I’ve spent a little time talking to her, and I know a bit more than you think.”
She shook her head. “I’ve spent my entire life with her. She has told you what you wished to hear so that she may use you to achieve her ends. When your usefulness has come to an end, she will be rid of you. You will only be tolerated as long as it is to her benefit. The moment she is sure of Withington’s affections…”
“He knows what he is up against.”
Her lips thinned and she shook her head. “He is enamored of her, and that makes him vulnerable to manipulation. Amelia is very good at getting what she wants.”
“Yes, he is quite taken with her,” he agreed. “But he is also aware of her ulterior motives. He will not let her believe she has won him over until the time is right.”
“You place a lot of faith in him. And you are taking an enormous risk for something that is very uncertain. What if we do not suit after all?”
“You question it?” he said, taking a step closer and watching as her eyes darkened to smoke.
“How can you be so sure this is what you want?” Her voice shook. “That I’m what you want?”
“I have never been more certain,” he said, reaching out to caress her face.
“And if it turns out that we are not truly suited?”
He smiled, knowing it was about as likely as finding a unicorn. “Then we can end the charade. You can release Withington so that he can still try to win Amelia, if that is his wish. And I will remove myself from his path. Please, Victoria. At least try it my way.”
Tears formed in her eyes. “I am flattered by your determination, and I want to think that this will come to a happy end, but too much can go wrong, the risk of being discovered is—”
“Trust me, Victoria. I will not fail you. Either way, I will not fail you.”
His lips were warm and gentle, and his arms felt so good around her. It was insane, she knew, to allow herself to feel this way for a man who had done nothing but cause trouble for her. Desire pounded through her, obliterating her reason, her excuses, her guilty conscience.
He pulled away and looked down at her with sparkling eyes the color of moss. “You worry too much, you know. Everything will be fine. And once we are married, things will change between you and your sister. You’ll see.”
Marriage. She’d wanted it for so long, had worked so hard to attain it, but now the prospect seemed almost daunting. She looked at him, at his strong form and handsome face. She wanted him, it was true, but she wanted to feel more for her husband than just desire. “We must both be in accord for that to happen,” she said carefully. “I want to be absolutely certain before I agree to such a commitment. I’m sure you must feel the same way. It is a decision that will affect us both for the rest of our lives.”
“By the time we must decide, there will be no doubt for either of us,” he promised.
This time when he kissed her, Victoria let go and simply experienced the pleasure of it. His hands roamed over her back, spreading fire across her flesh through the silk of her gown. Her breasts began to ache pleasantly, and her body began to move of its own accord, pressing into him.
The sound of laughter from around the corner ended the embrace far too soon. Her legs were as unsteady as her heartbeat as he quickly led her away. All it had taken was five minutes, perhaps less, for every bone in her body to become molten. Had desire been the only factor to consider, she would have married him that instant.
How on earth was she to conceal her feelings from her sister? Or from anyone else, for that matter?
“Remember now, you find me intolerably dull,” he whispered in her ear as they rejoined the gathering.
She bit back a giggle and concentrated on her countenance rather than the tingling of her ear. He was right. She needed to look like someone who’d been subjected to unendurable tedium—not irresistible kisses.
Across the room, Withington sat with her sister, his expression rapt. That is a disaster waiting to happen, she thought unhappily. But even as she approached, he looked up and gave her a quick wink.
Her spirits rose, and she smiled back. Perhaps Amelia had finally met her match. Only time would tell. Withington, should he ever manage to get under her sister’s carefully crafted facade, would have to decide whether he actually liked the person beneath it. Surprisingly, she rather hoped he would, and not just for her own sake.
“I do hope I haven’t monopolized too much of your time, my lady,” said Cavendish, jarring her from her reverie.
“Not at all, my lord,” she said, keeping her voice flat. “I so enjoyed learning about the various grasses of the world. I had no idea there were so very many.”
He picked up the thread effortlessly.
“Indeed, and only a few grow properly in English—”
