She handed Sally her calling card and then ducked out of the small apartment.
The rain had let up a bit, so she didn’t have to run back to the carriage. Except she probably should have. She’d been gone far too long. Victoria only hoped no one noticed that upon her return, or the fact that she was sweaty and dirty and soaked to the bone.
By the time they arrived back in Marylebone, Victoria’s exhaustion had set in. She could barely keep her eyes open, especially in the darkness of the carriage with its lulling motion through the London streets. The pitter-patter of rain against the roof didn’t help her cause, either. Her body ached with the desire for sleep. And it just plain ached from her morning of manual labor. With any luck, no one would bother her once she arrived home, and she’d be able to get a few hours of sleep before afternoon calls began.
However, as soon as she walked through the front door, Victoria knew she was in trouble.
“Lord Leyburn here to see you, miss .”
Fourteen
Fin waited in the drawing room of Victoria’s townhouse, pacing the floor in anticipation. What was he going to say to her? What could he say to her? He’d told her they couldn’t be friends anymore, not until she told him what was going on. But now he knew. Did that mean they could be friends again? And did he really want to be? Could he be friends with her again, knowing what he knew?
Damnation ! Why the devil was he here?
Deciding he didn’t want to see her after all, he marched from the drawing room and headed toward the front hall. And there she was, looking as though she’d been through some kind of tempest. She was soaked, her hair matted to her face in dark clumps, and there were dark circles around her eyes. For some reason all Fin wanted to do was wrap her in a blanket and hold her until she fell asleep.
Clearly, there was something wrong with him. The effects of sleep deprivation were monumental.
“Please tell him I am not at home, Davis,” she said to the butler.
Davis was about to acquiesce, but Fin cut him off. “It’s a bit late for that.”
Her eyes met his, wild and almost scared. She said nothing.
“Come.” He motioned for her to follow him back to the drawing room. “The fire is warm in here.”
She held her tongue, but her footsteps padded on the marble behind him. He still didn’t know what he meant to say to her, but there was no avoiding a confrontation now. Though Victoria didn’t look as though she was up for one at the moment. So unlike her.
Once they were in the room, Fin shut the door and turned the key in the lock. Victoria looked at him as if he’d gone mad.
“What are you doing?”
“Do you really want your parents to be privy to this conversation?” he asked.
“Well, no, but . . .”
“I want the truth, and I want it now.” His earlier demands hadn’t held much sway over her, but for the first time, Victoria actually looked scared. Good.
“You already know it.”
“No,” he corrected her. “I know what I saw last night. I know that I saw you in Southwark the other day. I know you’ve been out all morning doing God-knows-what. But I don’t know why.”
“Fin—” She crossed the room in a few long strides and took both his hands in hers. They were frigid, and she shook rather violently. Whether it was from cold or fright or anger, he couldn’t be certain. “Please. You must forget about all this. You must forget that you saw me anywhere other than proper places for a young lady to be.”
“I can’t, Victoria. How could you even ask such a thing?”
“Because . . . because I care about you,” she said, and Fin wondered if she’d wanted to say something else.
“How kind,” he replied, his tone leaden with sarcasm. “However, I don’t need looking after, and— Damn it, Victoria, we’ve already had this discussion!”
“And now you understand why I begged you not to go looking, don’t you?” She squeezed his hands even tighter. If
The rain had let up a bit, so she didn’t have to run back to the carriage. Except she probably should have. She’d been gone far too long. Victoria only hoped no one noticed that upon her return, or the fact that she was sweaty and dirty and soaked to the bone.
By the time they arrived back in Marylebone, Victoria’s exhaustion had set in. She could barely keep her eyes open, especially in the darkness of the carriage with its lulling motion through the London streets. The pitter-patter of rain against the roof didn’t help her cause, either. Her body ached with the desire for sleep. And it just plain ached from her morning of manual labor. With any luck, no one would bother her once she arrived home, and she’d be able to get a few hours of sleep before afternoon calls began.
However, as soon as she walked through the front door, Victoria knew she was in trouble.
“Lord Leyburn here to see you, miss .”
Fourteen
Fin waited in the drawing room of Victoria’s townhouse, pacing the floor in anticipation. What was he going to say to her? What could he say to her? He’d told her they couldn’t be friends anymore, not until she told him what was going on. But now he knew. Did that mean they could be friends again? And did he really want to be? Could he be friends with her again, knowing what he knew?
Damnation ! Why the devil was he here?
Deciding he didn’t want to see her after all, he marched from the drawing room and headed toward the front hall. And there she was, looking as though she’d been through some kind of tempest. She was soaked, her hair matted to her face in dark clumps, and there were dark circles around her eyes. For some reason all Fin wanted to do was wrap her in a blanket and hold her until she fell asleep.
Clearly, there was something wrong with him. The effects of sleep deprivation were monumental.
“Please tell him I am not at home, Davis,” she said to the butler.
Davis was about to acquiesce, but Fin cut him off. “It’s a bit late for that.”
Her eyes met his, wild and almost scared. She said nothing.
“Come.” He motioned for her to follow him back to the drawing room. “The fire is warm in here.”
She held her tongue, but her footsteps padded on the marble behind him. He still didn’t know what he meant to say to her, but there was no avoiding a confrontation now. Though Victoria didn’t look as though she was up for one at the moment. So unlike her.
Once they were in the room, Fin shut the door and turned the key in the lock. Victoria looked at him as if he’d gone mad.
“What are you doing?”
“Do you really want your parents to be privy to this conversation?” he asked.
“Well, no, but . . .”
“I want the truth, and I want it now.” His earlier demands hadn’t held much sway over her, but for the first time, Victoria actually looked scared. Good.
“You already know it.”
“No,” he corrected her. “I know what I saw last night. I know that I saw you in Southwark the other day. I know you’ve been out all morning doing God-knows-what. But I don’t know why.”
“Fin—” She crossed the room in a few long strides and took both his hands in hers. They were frigid, and she shook rather violently. Whether it was from cold or fright or anger, he couldn’t be certain. “Please. You must forget about all this. You must forget that you saw me anywhere other than proper places for a young lady to be.”
“I can’t, Victoria. How could you even ask such a thing?”
“Because . . . because I care about you,” she said, and Fin wondered if she’d wanted to say something else.
“How kind,” he replied, his tone leaden with sarcasm. “However, I don’t need looking after, and— Damn it, Victoria, we’ve already had this discussion!”
“And now you understand why I begged you not to go looking, don’t you?” She squeezed his hands even tighter. If
Similar Books
