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“Thank heaven you ordered tea,” he puffed. “I overheard a servant girl speaking to another about ‘Lady Victoria needing something to help her rest, poor soul,’” he warbled in a comic falsetto. “When she came back from the kitchens, I simply followed her and counted the doors. When I realized yours was the chamber with the tree outside, I blessed my good fortune.”
“It was a damned foolish thing to do,” Victoria hissed. “You could have broken your neck—and heaven only knows what Amelia will do if she finds you in here. She’ll kill me.”
“I’m touched by your concern,” he replied drily.
“What was so urgent that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
“I need your advice,” he told her, his cheeks reddening. “I’ve no idea how to go about winning your sister’s heart. After tonight, I think she’d just as soon see me hang as anything. She positively loathes me, and you cannot tell me differently.”
“Yes, well, I’m not exactly in her good graces, either,” Victoria grumbled. “She believes I attempted to sneak out and meet with you tonight. According to her, you’ve corrupted me and overthrown my morals.”
His face grew even more dejected.
“We’ll find a way,” she said, patting his arm awkwardly. “In any case, she’ll learn the truth of the matter once Julius and I are wed. I’ll tell her everything, and she’ll see how awfully you’ve been used by us both. I shall paint you a shining hero, I promise.”
“I doubt anything would make me shine in her eyes at this point,” he said gloomily.
“Come,” she commanded, leading him away from the window. “There is enough tea for two. I shall be glad to tell you anything you want regarding my harridan of a sister.”
HEARING A SCRABBLING noise above him, Julius paused in his evening walk, suddenly alert. Thieves often targeted high-society parties like this, where the temptation of so many ladies’ jewels under one roof was an irresistible lure.
He looked up just in time to see the silhouette of a man entering a second-floor room from among the branches of the large tree beneath it. He smiled wistfully as the woman inside helped her clumsy lover over the sill. At least someone was finding a way to be with their light o’ love tonight.
The woman came back to the window a few seconds later. As she drew the shutters closed, the light inside momentarily lit her face.
Hurt and rage flooded through him. He now remembered seeing Victoria climb out of this very tree the day he’d followed her to the downs. At the time, he’d not thought anything of it—it might have been any random window from which she’d escaped—but now he knew it must be her b
edchamber, for he could not imagine her being anywhere else at this hour. And there was no doubt regarding the identity of her clandestine caller.
Withy was a dead man.
Grim determination filled him as he reentered the house and climbed the stairs. He would run Withy—no, Withington—through at the first light of dawn. Or better yet, wring the life from his body with his bare hands.
My best friend! And as for Victoria, she was no better than the light skirts he’d tupped in Paris. He’d thought she was different. He’d thought himself in love with her. Fool!
He padded stealthily down the hall until he stood at Victoria’s door. Taking a deep breath in anticipation of the worst, he turned the knob slowly and pressed against the door to test the strength of the latch. To his surprise, however, it was not locked. Careless, considering that her lover was inside with her.
He eased it open and peeked inside. The bed was empty, the coverlet still crisply turned down awaiting its occupant.
Hearing Victoria’s soft voice, he ventured farther and turned.
There before the fire, fully clothed, drinking tea and chatting softly—about Amelia, he noted—she and Withington sat opposite one another.
His heart slowed. Quietly closing the door behind him, he gently cleared his throat.
Withington leaped to his feet, his teacup falling to the floor. “N—now, Julius,” he stammered, backing slowly away. “It isn’t what you think, I swear!”
Julius advanced, keeping his face expressionless.
“I’ve no romantic interest in Victoria whatsoever—she’s like a sister to me,” Withy said desperately. “She’s as safe with me as my own mother!” He eyed the window as though wondering whether he could manage the leap without killing himself.
Victoria stepped between them. “He’s telling the truth, Julius. He came to discuss tomorrow and to learn more about Amelia. That is all.”
“I saw him enter your window like a thief in the night,” Julius told her. “And you helped him in.”
“Well, I couldn’t very well come knocking on her door in the middle of the night, now could I?” interjected Withy, looking wounded. “I’m watched like a damned criminal in this place, in spite of having committed no crime. Amelia thinks I’m the devil incarnate! And now you think I’m, I’m—”
“Oh, sweet merciful heavens above,” whispered Victoria, paling. “You came through the door—Amelia—she’ll have heard you!”
