by Julia Quinn
He looked up at her sheepishly. “Oh yes, of course.”
Neville coughed, clearly wanting to steer the conversation back to the matter at hand. “Today,” he said firmly, “we are discussing green.”
“Green, you say?” Robert lifted his arm and pretended to look at his sleeve with great interest. “I am wearing green.”
Neville beamed at the attention he was receiving from Robert. “Yes, we were just talking about you.”
Robert leveled a rather knowing look in Victoria's direction. “You were?”
“Yes.” Neville turned to Victoria. “Miss Lyndon, weren't we talking about his lordship's coat?”
“You certainly were,” Victoria retorted, not enjoying herself in the least.
The boy tugged at her sleeve. “What kind of green is it?”
Victoria regarded Robert's coat, an article of clothing so expertly tailored it might well be classified as a piece of art. “Bottle green, Neville. It is called bottle green.”
“Bottle green,” he repeated. “Thus far I have learned moss green, and bottle green, and brackish green, which I shall call icky green—”
“Neville!” Victoria reprimanded.
“Very well.” He sighed. I shan't call it icky green. “But—” The boy looked up sharply at Robert. “Do you know what color the stripe on Miss Lyndon's dress is?”
Robert stood, letting his eyes rest on the stripe, which happened to be on her bodice. “No,” said, not looking back down to Neville. “I don't know.”
Victoria fought the urge to cover her breasts with her hands. It was absurd, she knew, because she was fully dressed. But she felt as if Robert could see straight to her skin.
“It's forest green,” Neville proclaimed. “And Miss Lyndon should know, because she has been in the forest at night.”
Robert arched a brow. “Has she?”
Victoria swallowed painfully, trying not to remember the magical evenings she'd sneaked out of her room and run through the forest in Kent with Robert. It was impossible, of course. Those memories played poignantly through her mind every day. “One can't see colors in the dark,” she said peevishly. “The earl said so.”
“But you said that forest green was as dark as the forest at night,” Neville persisted.
“Perhaps if the moon was out,” Robert mused. “One could see a bit of color, and it would be so very romantic.”
Victoria glared at him before turning back to the boy. “Neville,” she said, her voice sounding odd to her ears. “I'm sure the earl is not interested in our color games.”
Robert smiled slowly. “I'm interested in everything you do.”
Victoria tugged at Neville's hand. “We really should not keep his lordship. I am certain he has many important things to do. Things that don't involve us.”
Neville didn't budge. He looked up at Robert and asked, “Are you married?”
Victoria coughed and managed to get out, “Neville, I'm sure that is none of our business.”
“No, Neville, I'm not,” Robert replied.
The boy cocked his head. “Maybe you should ask Miss Lyndon. Then you could come live here with us.”
Robert looked as if he was trying very hard not to laugh. “I asked her once.”
“Oh, God.” Victoria groaned. Life didn't get very much worse than this.
“You did?” Neville said.
Robert shrugged his shoulders. “She wouldn't have me.”
Neville whipped his head around to face Victoria. “You said no?” His voice rose to a horrified shriek on the last word.
“I-I-I—” Victoria was spluttering, quite unable to get a word out.
“Miss Lyndon?” Robert prodded, looking as if he hadn't enjoyed himself quite so heartily in many years.
“I didn't say—Oh, for God's sake.” Victoria looked at Robert with a ferocious expression. “You should be ashamed of yourself, my lord.”
“Ashamed?” He feigned innocence.
“Using a young boy like this to satisfy your…your…”
“My what?”
“Your need to hurt me. It is unconscionable.”
“Why, Miss Lyndon, I'm insulted that you would think I would stoop to such levels.”
“There is no need to stoop,” she said icily. “You have always been lodged somewhere between the gutter and hell.”
“Did you say hell?” Neville screeched.
Robert began to shake with silent laughter.
“Neville, we are going back to the house this instant,” Victoria said firmly.
“But my colors! I want to finish with green.”
She snatched his hand and started hauling him toward the house. “We shall have our tea in the green salon.” Victoria didn't bother to look back. The last thing she wanted to see was Robert hunched over with laughter.
If Robert's intention was to torture her into insanity, Victoria thought wryly later that day, he was doing a rather good job of it.
She never dreamed that he would dare seek her out in her room again; she had made it abundantly clear that such behavior was unacceptable. But obviously he didn't care, because at one o'clock, while Neville was taking his riding lesson, he slipped into her room with nary a guilty look.
“Robert!” Victoria exclaimed.
“Are you busy?” he asked, his face a picture of innocence as he closed the door behind him.
“Busy!” she nearly screeched. “Get out!”
“If you didn't want company, you should have locked your door.”
“You can be certain I will adopt that habit in the future.” Victoria paused, trying to unclench her jaw. She wasn't successful. “What are you doing here?” she ground out.
He held up a plate. “Bringing you a piece of chocolate cake. I know how much you love it, and I didn't think Lady H. was the sort to share her sweets with the governess.”
“Robert, you must leave.”
He ignored her. “Although I cannot imagine that Lady H. is unaware that you are far more beautiful than she is, and I would not put it past her to purposefully try to make you fat.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Really, Victoria, you are most unappreciative. Very bad manners. I'm surprised at you.”
Victoria thought that she must be in the middle of a very strange dream. That could be the only explanation. Robert, lecturing her on propriety? “I must be insane,” she muttered. “If you're not, then I must be.”
“Nonsense. What could be wrong with two friends enjoying each other's company?”
“That is not our situation, and well you know it.” Victoria planted her hands on her hips. “And I'm going to have to ask you not to play your silly games with me in front of Neville anymore. It isn't right.”
He held up his hand as if making a solemn vow. “No more games in front of Neville.”
“Thank you.”
“Although I did convince him to call you Miss Lyndon, did I not?”
Victoria let out a sigh. She was beyond annoyed with him for that afternoon's antics, but her sense of fair play demanded that she thank him. “Yes, Robert, I do thank you for your intervention with Neville yesterday, but—”
He waved his hand. “It was nothing, I assure you.”
“Nevertheless, I thank you. However—”
“The boy needed a firm hand.”
“I agree with you, but—”
“It is really too bad that I had to be the one to do it, as that task ought to fall to his parents.”
She planted her hands on her hips again. “Why do I get the idea that you are trying to stop me from speaking?”
“It may be”—he leaned casually against the doorjamb—” because I know you're trying to dismiss me.”
“Exactly.”
“Bad idea.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“I said it's a bad idea. Most inadvisable.”
She blinked in aggravation. “It is quite possibly the most advisable idea I've had in a long time.”
/>
“But you wouldn't want to be deprived of my company,” he returned.
“That is precisely the end I am trying to achieve.”
“Yes, but you'll be miserable without me.”
“I am quite certain I can judge my own emotions with greater clarity than you.”
“Would you like to know what your problem is with Neville?”
“Would you like to tell me?” she asked, with no small amount of sarcasm.
“You don't know how to be stern.”
“I beg your pardon. I am a governess. I make my living by being stern.”
He shrugged. “You're not very good at it.”
Her mouth opened in consternation. “I have spent the last seven years working as a governess. And in case you don't recall, just yesterday you said I was quite good at it.”
“At the lesson plans and that sort of thing.” He waved his hand nonchalantly in the air. “But discipline—Well, you'll never excel at that.”
“That is not true.”
“You've never known how to be properly stern.” He chuckled and touched her cheek. “I remember it so clearly from before. You would try to scold me, but your eyes were always too warm. And your lips always turn up just a bit at the corners. I don't think you know how to make a serious frown.”
Victoria eyed him suspiciously. What was he up to? He had been so furious with her yesterday morning when he stole into her room. But since then he'd been positively congenial. Utterly charming.
“Am I correct?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.
She leveled a shrewd state in his direction. “You're trying to seduce me again, aren't you?”
Robert wasn't eating or drinking anything, but he choked nonetheless, requiring Victoria to give him a hearty whack on the back. “I cannot believe you said that,” he finally said.
“Is it true?”
“Of course not.”
“So it is true.”
“Victoria, are you listening to a word I am saying?”
Before she could reply, a knock sounded at the door. Victoria instantly panicked. She threw an agonized glance at Robert, who responded by putting his forefinger to his lips and grabbing the plate of cake as he tiptoed to her wardrobe and climbed in. Victoria blinked in disbelief as she watched him squeeze in. He looked most uncomfortable.
“Miss Lyndon! Open this door at once!” Lady Hollingwood sounded most displeased. “I know you're in there.”
Victoria ran to the door, silently thanking her maker that Robert had been rude enough to lock the door behind him. “I'm so sorry, Lady Hollingwood,” she said as she pulled the door open. “I was taking a nap. I often do while Neville is at the stables.”
Lady Hollingwood's eyes narrowed. “I am certain I heard you speaking.”
“It must have been in my sleep,” Victoria said quickly. “My sister used to tell me that I kept her up half the night with my mumblings.”
“How perfectly bizarre.” This was said with disgust, not interest.
Victoria gritted her teeth into a smile. “Was there anything in particular you wanted, Lady Hollingwood? An update on Neville's lessons, perhaps?”
“I shall quiz you on his progress on Wednesday, as is our habit. I am here for a far graver reason.”
Victoria's heart dropped. Lady Hollingwood was going to dismiss her. She had seen her with Robert. Perhaps she had even seen him enter her room not ten minutes earlier. Victoria opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn't think of any words in her defense. At least none that Lady Hollingwood would pay heed to.
“Miss Hypatia Vinton has taken ill,” Lady Hollingwood announced.
Victoria blinked. That was all? “I trust it is not serious.”
“Not at all. A putrid stomach, or something of the sort. It is my opinion that she will be well by morning, but she insists upon going home.”
“I see,” Victoria said, wondering what this had to do with her.
“We are now short a lady for my dinner party tomorrow evening. You will have to take her place.”
“Me?” Victoria squeaked.
“It is the worst of possible situations, but I cannot think of any other course of action.”
“What about this evening's dinner? Surely you'll need another lady.”
Lady Hollingwood fixed a supercilious stare on Victoria's nose. “As it happens, one of my male guests has offered to escort Hypatia home, so we will be evenly matched. It is no use angling for another invitation, Miss Lyndon. I do not want you bothering my guests any more than necessary.”
Victoria privately wondered why Lady Hollingwood had bothered to ask her if she was such an embarrassment. She murmured, “It was only a question, my lady.”
Her employer frowned. “You do know how to comport yourself in polite society, do you not?”
Victoria said frigidly, “My mother was every inch a lady, Lady Hollingwood. As am I.”
“If you disappoint me in this endeavor, I shall not hesitate to throw you out. Do you understand me?”
Victoria didn't see how she could do anything but understand her. Lady Hollingwood threatened to dismiss her every other day. “Yes, of course, Lady Hollingwood.”
“Good. I don't suppose you've anything to wear.”
“Nothing suitable for such an occasion, my lady.”
“I shall have one of my old frocks sent up. It shall fit you well enough.”
Victoria declined to mention that Lady Hollingwood was a good stone heavier than she. It just didn't seem in her best interest. Instead she opted for a noncommittal, “My lady.”
“It will be a few years out of style,” Lady Hollingwood mused, “but no one will comment on it. You are the governess, after all.”
“Of course.”
“Good. We will be serving drinks at eight, and dinner thirty minutes thereafter. Please come at twenty-five minutes past the hour. I do not want my guests to be forced to socialize with you for any longer than is necessary.”
Victoria bit her tongue to keep herself from speaking.
“Good day, then.” Lady Hollingwood stalked from the room.
Victoria had barely shut the door behind her when Robert bounded out of the wardrobe. “What a cow!” he exclaimed. “How can you bear her?”
“I haven't any other choice,” she ground out.
Robert eyed her thoughtfully. “No, I don't suppose you do.”
More than anything, Victoria wanted to slap him just then. It was one thing for her to be aware of her miserable lot in life. It was quite another for him to comment on it. “I think you had better leave,” she said.
“Yes, of course,” he concurred. “You have things to do, I'm sure. Governess things.”
She crossed her arms. “Don't come here again.”
“Why not? The wardrobe was not uncomfortable.”
“Robert…” she warned.
“Very well. But first a small token of thanks for the chocolate cake.” He leaned down and kissed her hard and fast. “That should get me through the afternoon.”
Victoria wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and bit out, “Contemptible swine.”
Robert only chuckled. “I look forward to tomorrow evening, Miss Lyndon.”
“Don't seek me out.”
He raised a brow. “I don't see how you're going to be able to avoid me.”
Chapter 7
When that evening and the following morning passed without any contact from Robert, Victoria let herself be lulled into thinking that he might have decided to leave her alone.
She was wrong.
He found her a few hours before supper was due to begin. Victoria was walking briskly down a hall when Robert suddenly materialized before her. She jumped about a foot, startled out of her wits. “Robert!” she exclaimed, one of her hands pressing against her breastbone to calm her racing heart. She took a deep breath and looked both ways down the hall to be sure that no one else was about. “Please don't creep up on me like that again.”
His lips formed a masculine smile. “I like to surprise you.”
“I really wish you wouldn't,” she muttered.
“I merely wanted to know how you are faring with your preparations for your grand debut.”
“It isn't my grand debut,” she snapped. “If you must know, I am dreading every moment of it. I have no love for the nobility, and the thought of spending several hours in your ranks makes my blood run cold.”
“And what have the nobility ever done to you to warrant such distaste? Failed to marry you?” His eyes narrowed to slits. “Tis a pity your plans went so awry. You toiled so tirelessly to achieve your goal.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about,” she said, utterly baffled.
“Don't you?” he mocked.
“I need to be going.” She moved to her left to try to get around him, but he blocked her. “Robert!”
“I find myself loath to part with your company.”
“Oh, please,” she said disdainfully. That was a lie if ever she heard one. His eyes were clearly showing his disgust for her.
“Don't you believe me?” he asked.
“Your words and your eyes are not in agreement. Besides, I learned long ago not to trust a word out of your mouth.”
Robert sparked with fury. “What the hell does that mean?”
“You know very well.”
He advanced, forcing her to back up against the wall. “I was not the one who lied,” he said in a low voice, jabbing his forefinger against her shoulder.
Victoria glared at him. “Get out of my way.”
“And miss this extremely edifying conversation? I think not.”
“Robert! If someone sees us…”
“Why the hell are you always so concerned about appearances?”
Victoria's anger grew to the point where she was shaking. “How dare you ask that?” she hissed.
“I dare a lot, darling.”
Her hand itched. His cheek was very close, and it would look so good with a nice red welt on it. “I will ask you one last time—”
“Only one more time? Good. You're getting most tedious.”
“I shall scream.”
“And alert the masses whom you are so assiduously trying to avoid? I think not.”
“Robert…”
“Oh, for God's sake.” He whipped open a door, snatched her hand, and hauled her into a room, slamming the door behind him. “There. Now we're alone.”