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“I certainly feel cooler around my face.” Rafe looked at Victoria, who was still staring at him like she had never seen him before. “May I speak with Miss Hayward? We’ve got a few things we need to clear up.”
“Of course.” Selkirk gestured at the garden. “Why don’t you have a walk?”
“Father, I don’t….” Victoria began to protest, but her father gently cut her off.
“We’ll stay here, but you two should get an opportunity to talk alone.” Selkirk gestured for his daughter to stand up. “Go on, off you go.”
Victoria’s jaw tightened. She shot to her feet, glaring at Rafe with such hatred that Rafe almost cowered back. It had been a while since someone had looked at him with that much fury. Then she turned and swept away, jumping off the terrace and onto the grass, storming across the lawn. Lady Selkirk sighed.
“Forgive our daughter, Lord Blackmore. She’s not normally so….”
“I’m not going to be upset about that, Lady Selkirk. This is all a big shock for her.” Rafe moved away. “I’ll catch up with her. Do not worry about it.”
Although Rafe had a feeling that he was going to need to be worried about Victoria’s actions towards him. Why did the woman he had to marry have to be the most beautiful person he had ever come across, and she despised him?
***
Victoria needed to get away as quickly as she could. Her head was spinning as realisation set in. This couldn’t be happening. He wasn’t Rafe Mowbray. That wasn’t possible.
But it made sense. The man who had saved her from social embarrassment had mentioned having lived in America, and Victoria knew that Mowbray—Blackmore, she had to remember his title, no matter how much she hated to give that to him—had been sent to the New World. How had she not put the two together?
What she hated the most was the way her heart fluttered at the sight of him. There was something feral but attractive about that full beard he had been sporting, but now he was clean-shaven. It was like looking at a different person. He was good-looking—very good-looking. And Victoria felt something tighten in her belly at the sight of him.
She could have been imagining it, even without her mother mentioning it. But then Blackmore had turned his gaze onto her, and he saw his eyes and that slight curve to his mouth. It was the bearded man, without a doubt.
This could not be happening. This had to be yet another bad dream.
Stumbling away, Victoria went to the fence and almost collapsed against it, her head spinning when she realised she was almost tipping over and was in danger of falling. While she was angry and in despair about her situation, she wasn’t that desperate to throw herself off the cliff. Clutching onto the fence post, Victoria closed her eyes and took deep breaths. Now was not the time to panic. She couldn’t.
How had this bad situation somehow gotten worse?
“Miss Hayward?”
Victoria froze. He sounded far closer than she was comfortable with. Opening her eyes and turning slowly, she saw Blackmore approaching her, moving branches of a low-hanging tree aside as he ducked his head. How was it he seemed far taller than she remembered? Her heart racing, Victoria straightened up, still holding onto the fence.
“Get away from me.”
Blackmore sighed. He approached her, at which Victoria flinched.
“Keep away from me!”
“All right.” He stopped, holding up his hands. “I won’t come any further, I promise.”
“You promise?” Victoria snorted. “Why don’t you promise to go back to America and leave me alone for good?”
“I’m afraid there’s not really an option for that.”
“Really? Because I’m not going to marry you so you’re wasting your time.”
Blackmore arched an eyebrow.
“Well, I’m not too keen on marrying you either, but you don’t see me complaining about it like a spoiled brat.”
“Excuse me?” Victoria gasped. “Spoiled brat? Is this how you talk to women?”
“Not normally, but if you’re going to behave like one….”
Victoria couldn’t remember the last time someone had insulted her, and it wasn’t coming from the man before her. She glared at him.
