might be more cautious but would most likely tell her the same thing.
But what would Sophie think? Of all her friends, Victoria had always felt the closest to Sophie. Perhaps it was the fact that Sophie’s upbringing was only slightly better than hers. And not as good as Victoria’s pretend upbringing, which all her friends believed was true.
“Everything all right?”
Victoria blinked her eyes open and then repressed a sigh. Dressed in his black jacket and trousers, the man looked dark and entirely too handsome. “Why do you ask?”
He smirked like only Somerton could. “You had your eyes closed.”
“I was thinking of my friends, nothing more.”
“Ah, I thought you might be regretting the three glasses of wine.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “I already did that.”
Somerton chuckled softly. “Then I believe the rest of the trip shall be a nice quiet ride.”
“That it shall.” Now she just had to figure out how to resist the man when they actually had to sleep together.
Anthony tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the groomsman to open the carriage door. After another six hours closely enclosed with Victoria, he needed room to breathe without the tempting scent of her filling his nostrils. Finally, the door opened and he clamored out. He held out his hand and steeled himself for the shock of excitement that skipped up his arm every time he touched her.
She placed her hand in his and there it was again.
After stepping down, she gasped. “That can’t really be Farleigh’s home,” she turned to stare at him, “is it?”
Anthony glanced at the light brown granite home and then back to her. “Of course, this is his home.”
She tilted her head. “I mean, someone actually lives in this place?”
“Well, yes,” his patience getting the best of him, “Farleigh.”
Victoria only shook her head.
He started to take a step but stopped when she didn’t move with him. “What is wrong?”
“Look at the size of this place,” she whispered. “It’s as big as a castle.”
Anthony glanced back at the house again and shrugged. “It’s truly not that big. My father’s home in Dorset is larger than this.”
Her mouth gaped. “Your father’s house is larger? What does he do with all the space?”
“Mostly he keeps the place closed up.”
“What an incredible waste,” she mumbled. She took a step forward and sighed.
He finally understood why she was acting this way. “You have never been inside a home like this, have you?”
“Never. The closest thing I have ever been in is Elizabeth’s home in London.”
While the ducal townhome was large for London, it was insignificant when compared to most of the country estates of the ton . “Victoria, you must not appear in awe of this place. Everyone would expect that as my mistress you are a woman of some means.”
Her face reddened slightly but she nodded her agreement.
“If you would like, once we get to our room, you can gush about the place to me.”
“Thank you, Somerton.”
He smiled down at her. “Very well then, Mrs. Smith. Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
The snow covered gravel crunched under their boots as they walked toward the door. A butler opened the door and ushered them into the warm house. Anthony glanced down at Victoria and suppressed a smile. Her look of awe outside had turned to ennui as they entered the hall.
“Good afternoon, my lord,” the butler said and bowed to Victoria. “Good afternoon, ma’am. The footman will take you to your room. Dinner is at seven but sherry will be served in the salon at six.”
“Thank you,” Anthony replied and then followed a footman upstairs.
The footman opened the door and allowed them to enter the suite of rooms. A small salon, with a sofa and two chairs, preceded the large room with an enormous mahogany bed taking up most of the space. At least that bed was large enough for them both to sleep in without touching each other.
“Your trunks will be
But what would Sophie think? Of all her friends, Victoria had always felt the closest to Sophie. Perhaps it was the fact that Sophie’s upbringing was only slightly better than hers. And not as good as Victoria’s pretend upbringing, which all her friends believed was true.
“Everything all right?”
Victoria blinked her eyes open and then repressed a sigh. Dressed in his black jacket and trousers, the man looked dark and entirely too handsome. “Why do you ask?”
He smirked like only Somerton could. “You had your eyes closed.”
“I was thinking of my friends, nothing more.”
“Ah, I thought you might be regretting the three glasses of wine.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “I already did that.”
Somerton chuckled softly. “Then I believe the rest of the trip shall be a nice quiet ride.”
“That it shall.” Now she just had to figure out how to resist the man when they actually had to sleep together.
Anthony tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the groomsman to open the carriage door. After another six hours closely enclosed with Victoria, he needed room to breathe without the tempting scent of her filling his nostrils. Finally, the door opened and he clamored out. He held out his hand and steeled himself for the shock of excitement that skipped up his arm every time he touched her.
She placed her hand in his and there it was again.
After stepping down, she gasped. “That can’t really be Farleigh’s home,” she turned to stare at him, “is it?”
Anthony glanced at the light brown granite home and then back to her. “Of course, this is his home.”
She tilted her head. “I mean, someone actually lives in this place?”
“Well, yes,” his patience getting the best of him, “Farleigh.”
Victoria only shook her head.
He started to take a step but stopped when she didn’t move with him. “What is wrong?”
“Look at the size of this place,” she whispered. “It’s as big as a castle.”
Anthony glanced back at the house again and shrugged. “It’s truly not that big. My father’s home in Dorset is larger than this.”
Her mouth gaped. “Your father’s house is larger? What does he do with all the space?”
“Mostly he keeps the place closed up.”
“What an incredible waste,” she mumbled. She took a step forward and sighed.
He finally understood why she was acting this way. “You have never been inside a home like this, have you?”
“Never. The closest thing I have ever been in is Elizabeth’s home in London.”
While the ducal townhome was large for London, it was insignificant when compared to most of the country estates of the ton . “Victoria, you must not appear in awe of this place. Everyone would expect that as my mistress you are a woman of some means.”
Her face reddened slightly but she nodded her agreement.
“If you would like, once we get to our room, you can gush about the place to me.”
“Thank you, Somerton.”
He smiled down at her. “Very well then, Mrs. Smith. Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
The snow covered gravel crunched under their boots as they walked toward the door. A butler opened the door and ushered them into the warm house. Anthony glanced down at Victoria and suppressed a smile. Her look of awe outside had turned to ennui as they entered the hall.
“Good afternoon, my lord,” the butler said and bowed to Victoria. “Good afternoon, ma’am. The footman will take you to your room. Dinner is at seven but sherry will be served in the salon at six.”
“Thank you,” Anthony replied and then followed a footman upstairs.
The footman opened the door and allowed them to enter the suite of rooms. A small salon, with a sofa and two chairs, preceded the large room with an enormous mahogany bed taking up most of the space. At least that bed was large enough for them both to sleep in without touching each other.
“Your trunks will be
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