Everything and the Moon (13 page)

“It won't happen again. I am older and wiser now. We are both older and wiser.”

“Don't you see? It has already happened twice.”

“Twice?” he echoed, thinking that he very much didn't want to hear what she had to say.

“At the Hollingwoods,” she said, her voice oddly flat. “When you asked me to be your—”

“Don't say it.” His voice was curt.

“Don't say what? ‘Mistress'? It's a fine time for you to suddenly develop scruples.”

He paled. “I never knew you could be so vindictive.”

“I'm not being vindictive. I'm being honest. And I didn't just fall off the moon that time. You pushed me.”

Robert took a deep and ragged breath. It was not in his nature to beg, and part of him wanted desperately to defend himself. But he wanted Victoria more, and so he said, “Then let me make amends, Torie. Let me marry you and give you children. Let me spend every day of my life worshipping the ground you walk upon.”

“Robert, don't.” Her voice was shaky, and he knew he'd seen something flare in her eyes when he mentioned children.

“Don't what?” he tried to joke. “Worship the ground you walk upon? It's too late. I already do that.”

“Don't make this so hard,” she said, her voice only slightly more than a whisper.

His lips parted in amazement. “And why the hell should I not? You tell me why I should make it easy for you to walk out of my life again.”

“I never walked out on you,” she shot back. “
You
left. You.”

“Neither of us is blameless. You were quick to believe the worst of me as well.”

Victoria didn't say anything.

He leaned forward, his eyes intense. “I will not give up on you, Victoria. I'll haunt you day and night. I'll make you admit that you love me.”

“I don't,” she whispered.

The carriage came to a halt, and Robert said, “We seem to have arrived at your home.”

Victoria immediately gathered up her belongings and reached for the door. But before she touched the polished wood, Robert's hand descended onto hers.

“Just one moment,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“What do you want, Robert?”

“A kiss.”

“No.”

“Just one kiss. To get me through the night.” Victoria stared into his eyes. They were hot ice, burning straight into her soul. She licked her lips; she couldn't help it.

Robert's hand moved to the back of her head. His touch was achingly soft. If he had applied pressure or tried to force her, she knew she could have resisted. But his gentleness was disarming, and she couldn't pull away.

His lips touched hers, brushing back and forth until he felt her soften beneath him. His tongue moistened one corner of her mouth, then the other, then outlined the edge of her full lips.

Victoria thought she might melt.

But then he pulled away. His hands were shaking. Victoria looked down and realized that hers were, too.

“I know my limits,” he said in a low voice.

Victoria blinked, realizing with despair that she didn't know her own. Another second of his sensual torture and she would have been on the floor of the carriage, begging him to love her. Shame colored her face and she left the carriage, letting MacDougal take her trembling hand in his to help her down. Robert followed immediately after her, and then swore viciously when he realized where he was.

Victoria didn't quite live in the worst part of town, but it came damn close. It took Robert a good ten seconds before he was calm enough to say, “Please tell me you don't live here.”

She gave him an odd look and pointed to a fourth-story window. “Right there.”

Robert's throat worked violently. “You…are not…going to remain here,” he said, barely able to get the words out.

Victoria ignored him and began to walk toward her building. Robert had his arm around her waist within seconds. “I don't want to hear another word out of you,” he barked. “You are coming home with me this instant.”

“Let go of me!” Victoria struggled under his grasp, but Robert held firm.

“I will not permit you to remain in such a dangerous neighborhood.”

“I can't imagine I'd be any safer with you,” she retorted.

Robert softened his grip, but refused to relinquish his hold on her arm. Then he felt something on his foot and looked down.

“Bloody frigging hell!” He kicked his foot out wildly, sending a good-sized rat out into the street.

Victoria took advantage of his predicament by wrenching her arm from his grasp, and she ran to the relative safety of her building.

“Victoria!” Robert bellowed, following her. But when he yanked the door open, all he saw was a fat old lady with blackened teeth.

“And 'oo might you be?” she demanded.

“I am the earl of Macclesfield,” he roared, “and get the hell out of my way.”

The woman planted her hand against his chest. “Not so fast, yer lordship.”

“Remove your hand from my person, if you please.”

“Remove yer sorry ass from my house, if
you
please,” she cackled. “We don't allow men in 'ere. This be a respectable house.”

“Miss Lyndon,” Robert bit out, “is my affianced bride.”

“Didn't look that way to me. In fact, it looked like she didn't want anything to do with you.”

Robert looked up and saw Victoria peering at him through a window. Rage poured through him. “I will not stand for this, Victoria!” he bellowed.

She merely shut the window.

For the first time in his life Robert truly learned the meaning of seeing red. When he'd thought Victoria had betrayed him seven years earlier, he'd been too pathetically heartbroken for this brand of fury. But now—God
damn
it, he'd been bloody frantic for more than two weeks, not knowing what the devil had happened to her. And now that he'd finally found her, not only had she thrown his proposal of marriage back in his face, but she insisted on living in a neighborhood peopled with drunks, thieves, and whores.

And rats.

Robert watched as a street urchin picked the pocket of an unsuspecting man across the street. He exhaled raggedly. He was going to have to get Victoria out of this neighborhood, if not for her safekeeping then for the sake of his sanity.

It was a miracle she hadn't been raped or murdered already.

He turned back to the landlady just in time to see the door slam in his face and hear a key turn in the lock. He crossed the short distance to the spot just below Victoria's window and started to eye the side of the building, looking for possible footholds for his ascent to her room.

“Milord.” MacDougal's voice was soft but insistent.

“If I can get my foot up to that still, I should be able to make it all the way up,” Robert growled.

“Milord, she's safe enough for the night.”

Robert whirled around. “Do you have any idea what kind of neighborhood this is?”

MacDougal stiffened at his tone. “Begging your pardon, milord, but I grew up in a neighborhood like this.”

Robert's face immediately softened. “Damn. I'm sorry, MacDougal, I didn't mean—”

“I know you didna.” MacDougal grasped Robert's upper arm and gently began to lead him away. “Your lady needs to stew on this for an evening, milord. Leave her be for a touch. You can talk to her on the morrow.”

Robert gave the building one last scowl. “Do you really think she'll be all right for the night?”

“You heard the lock on that door. She's as safe as if she were tucked away in Mayfair with you. Probably safer.”

Robert gave his next scowl to MacDougal. “I'm coming after her tomorrow.”

“Of course you are, milord.”

Robert put his hand on the carriage and exhaled. “Am I mad, MacDougal? Am I completely, utterly, incurably mad?”

“Well, now, milord, that's not my place to say.”

“How delightfully ironic that now would be the time you finally decide to exercise a bit of verbal circumspection.”

MacDougal only laughed.

 

Victoria sat on her narrow bed and hugged her arms to her body, as if curling herself into the tiniest ball possible would make all this confusion go away.

She had finally begun to carve out a life with which she could be content. Finally! Was it so much to want a bit of stability? Of permanence? She'd had seven years of rude employers threatening her with dismissal at every turn. She'd found security at Madame Lambert's dress shop. And friendship. Madame clucked about like a mother hen, always concerned about the welfare of her employees, and Victoria adored the camaraderie among the shopgirls.

Victoria swallowed as she realized she was crying. She hadn't had a friend in years. She couldn't count the number of times she'd fallen asleep clutching Ellie's letters to her chest. But letters couldn't give a gentle pat on the arm, and letters never smiled.

And Victoria had been so very lonely.

Seven years ago Robert had been more than the love of her life. He'd been her very best friend. Now he was back, and he said he loved her. Victoria choked on a sob. Why did he have to do this now? Why couldn't he leave well enough alone?

And why did she still have to care so much? She didn't want to have anything to do with him, much less marry him, and still her heart raced with every touch. She could feel his presence across a room, and one heavy-lidded gaze had the power to make her mouth go completely dry.

And when he kissed her…

Deep in her heart, Victoria knew that Robert had the power to make her happy beyond her wildest dreams. But he also had the power to crush her heart, and he'd already done so once—no, twice.

And Victoria was so tired of the pain.

R
obert was waiting on her doorstep when she left for work the next morning. Victoria wasn't particularly surprised; he was nothing if not stubborn. He'd probably been planning his return all night.

She let out a deep breath. “Good morning, Robert.” It seemed infantile to pretend to ignore him.

“I've come to escort you to Madame Lambert's,” he said.

“That is very kind of you, but wholly unnecessary.”

He stepped directly in her path, forcing her to look up at him. “I beg to differ with you. It is never safe for a young woman to walk in London unescorted, but it is especially dangerous in this area.”

“I have managed to get myself to the dress shop every day for the past month,” she said.

His mouth settled into a grim line. “I can assure you that does not set my mind at ease.”

“Setting your mind at ease has never been at the top of my list of priorities.”

He clucked at her. “My, my, we have a pointy tongue this morning.”

His condescending tone ate at her. “Have I ever told you how much I detest the use of the royal ‘we'? It reminds me of all those odious employers I had over the years. Nothing like a good ‘we' to put the governess in her place.”

“Victoria, we are not discussing being a governess, nor are we discussing pronouns, either singular or plural.”

She tried to push past him, but he stood firmly in her way.

“I am only going to repeat this one more time,” he said. “I will not permit you to remain in this hellhole for another day.”

She counted to three before she said, “Robert, you are not responsible for my welfare.”

“Somebody damn well has to be. You obviously don't know how to take proper care of yourself.”

She counted to five before she said, “I am going to ignore that comment.”

“I cannot believe you took lodgings here. Here!” Robert gave his head a disgusted shake.

She counted to ten before she said, “This is all I can afford, Robert, and I am perfectly happy with it.”

He learned forward in an intimidating manner. “Well, I am not. Let me tell you how I spent last night, Victoria.”

“Please do,” she muttered. “As if I could stop you.”

“I spent last night wondering how many men have tried to attack you in the last month.”

“None since Eversleigh.”

He either didn't hear her or didn't want to hear her. “Then I wondered how often you have to cross the street to avoid the prostitutes loitering on the street corners.”

She smiled archly. “Most of the prostitutes are very nice. I had tea with one just the other day.” That was a lie, but she knew it would needle him.

He shuddered. “Then I wondered how many damn rats share your room with you.”

Victoria tried to force herself to count to twenty before responding, but her temper wouldn't allow it. She could take his insults and his overbearing attitude, but an attack on her housekeeping skills—well, that was really too much. “You could eat off the floor of my room,” she hissed.

“I'm sure the rats do,” he replied with an acerbic twist of his lips. “Really, Victoria, you cannot stay in this vermin-infested area. It isn't safe, and it isn't healthy.”

She stood ramrod straight, holding her hands stiffly at her sides to keep herself from smacking him. “Robert, have you noticed that I am beginning to get just a trifle irritated with you?”

He ignored her. “I gave you one night, Victoria. That is all. You're coming home with me this evening.”

“I think not.”

“Then move in with my aunt.”

“I value my independence above all things,” she said.

“Well, I value your life and virtue,” he exploded, “and you're going to lose them both if you insist upon living her.”

“Robert, I am perfectly safe. I do nothing to attract attention, and people leave me alone.”

“Victoria, you're a beautiful and obviously respectable woman. You can't help but attract attention every time you step foot out of the house.”

She snorted. “You're a fine one to talk. Look at you!”

He crossed his arms and waited for an explanation.

“I was doing a fine job of keeping to myself before you came along.” She waved her hand at his carriage. “This neighborhood hasn't seen such a grand vehicle in years, if ever. And I'm sure that at least a dozen people are already planning how to rid you of your wallet.”

“So you do admit that this is an unsavory area.”

“Of course I do. Do you think I'm blind? If nothing else, this should prove how very much I don't want your company.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?”

“For God's sake, Robert, I'd rather stay here in this slum than be with you. Here! That ought to tell you something.”

He flinched, and she knew she'd hurt him. What she didn't expect was how much it hurt herself to see his eyes fill with pain. Against her better judgement, she put her hand on his arm. “Robert,” she said softly, “let me explain something to you. I am content now. I may not have much in the way of material comforts, but for the first time in years I have my independence. And I have my pride back.”

“What are you saying?”

“You know I never liked being a governess. I was constantly insulted by my employers, both male and female.”

Robert's mouth tightened.

“The customers at the dress shop aren't always polite, but Madame Lambert treats me with respect. And when I do a good job she doesn't try to take the credit. Do you know how long it has been since anyone has offered me any praise?”

“Oh, Victoria.” There was a world of anguish in those two words.

“I have made lovely friends, too. I truly enjoy the time I spend in the dress shop. And no one makes any decisions for me.” She shrugged helplessly. “They are simple pleasures, but they are dear to me, and I don't want to upset the balance.”

“I had no idea,” he whispered. “No idea.”

“How could you?” Her words were not a retort, but a real and honest question. “You have always had complete control over your life. You have always been able to do whatever you wanted.” Her lips curved into a wistful smile. “You and your plans. I always loved that about you.”

His eyes flew to her face. He doubted that she even realized she'd used the word “love.”

“The way you would attack a problem,” she continued, her eyes growing nostalgic. “It was always so much fun to watch. You examined the situation from all four sides, and then from the top and the bottom and upside down and inside out. You would find the shortest route to a solution, and then you went and did it. You always figured out how to get what you wanted.”

“
Except you
.”

His words hung in the air for a long minute. Victoria looked away, and then finally she said, “I must be getting to work.”

“Let me take you.”

“No.” Her voice sounded odd, as if she might cry. “I don't think that is a good idea.”

“Victoria, please don't make me worry about you. I have never felt so helpless in all my life.”

She turned to him with wise eyes. “I felt helpless for seven years. Now I'm in control. Please don't take that away from me.” Straightening her shoulders, she began to walk to the dress shop.

Robert waited until she was about ten feet away and then began to follow her. MacDougal waited until Robert was about twenty feet away and then began to follow him in the carriage.

All in all, it was a strange and solemn procession to Madame Lambert's

 

Victoria was kneeling before a dressmaker's dummy with three pins lodged between her teeth when the bell over the door rang at noon. She looked up.

Robert. She wondered why she was surprised. He was holding a box in his hands and had a familiar look on his face. Victoria knew that look. He was up to something. He'd probably spent the entire morning making plans.

He crossed the room until he was standing next to her. “Good day, Victoria,” he said with a genial smile. “I must say you look rather frightening with pins hanging from your mouth like fangs.”

Victoria found herself wanting to take one of those “fangs” and jab him with it. “Not frightening enough,” she muttered.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Robert, why are you here? I thought we reached an understanding this morning.”

“We did.”

“Then why are you here?” she ground out.

He crouched beside her. “I think we reached different understandings.”

What on earth was he talking about? “Robert, I'm very busy,” she said.

“I brought you a gift,” he said, holding out the box.

“I cannot accept a gift from you.”

He grinned. “It's edible.”

Victoria's traitorous stomach began to rumble. With a muttered curse she turned her back to him and began to attack the hemline of the gown she'd been working on.

“Mmmmm,” Robert said tantalizingly. He opened the box and waved the contents before her. “Pastries.”

Victoria's mouth watered. Pastries. Her biggest weakness. She supposed it would have been too much to hope that he'd forgotten.

“I made sure to get the kind without nuts,” he said.

No nuts? The man never forgot a detail, blast him. Victoria looked up to see Katie craning her neck, examining the pastries over Robert's shoulder. Katie was eyeing the sweets with an expression that could only be called intense longing. Victoria didn't imagine that Katie often had occasion to partake of delicacies from London's most exclusive confectioner.

Victoria smiled at Robert and accepted the box. “Thank you,” she said politely. “Katie? Would you like one?”

Katie was at her side in less than a second. Victoria handed her the entire box and went back to work on the hemline, trying to ignore the scent of chocolate that now pervaded the room.

Robert pulled up a chair and sat beside her. “That gown would look lovely on you,” he said.

“Alas,” Victoria replied, viciously jabbing a pin into the material, “but it is spoken for by a countess.”

“I would tell you that I would buy you one just like it, but I don't think that would win me any points in my favor.”

“How astute of you, my lord.”

“You're annoyed with me,” he stated.

Victoria's head swiveled slowly around until she faced him. “You noticed.”

“Is it because you thought you'd rid yourself of me this morning?”

“It was a hope.”

“You're eager for your life to return to normal.”

Victoria let out a funny little sound that was part laugh, part sigh, and part snort. “You seem to be exceedingly proficient at stating the obvious.”

“Hmmm.” Robert scratched his head, looking for all the world like a man deep in thought. “Your logic is flawed.”

Victoria didn't bother to reply.

“You see, you
think
this is normal.”

Victoria jabbed a few more pins into the hemline, realized that her irritation was making her careless, and had to pull them out and reposition them.

“But this isn't a normal life. How could it be? You've only lived it for a month.”

“I was only courted by you for two months,” she was compelled to point out.

“Yes, but you spent the next seven years thinking about me.”

Victoria didn't see any point in denying this, but she did say, “Weren't you listening to anything I said this morning?”

He leaned forward, his light blue eyes startlingly intense. “I listened to everything you said. And then I spent all morning thinking about it. I believe I understand your feelings.”

“Then why are you here?” she ground out.

“Because I think you're wrong.”

Victoria dropped her pins.

“Life isn't about crawling under a rock and watching the world go by, desperately hoping it won't touch us.” He knelt down and began to help her gather the pins. “Life is about taking chances, about reaching for the moon.”

“I took chances,” she said flatly. “I lost.”

“And you're going to let that rule your life forever? Victoria, you're only four and twenty. You have years ahead of you. Are you saying that you're going to take the safe road for the rest of your life?”

“As pertains to you, yes.”

He stood. “I can see that I will have to give you some time to reflect on this.”

She glared at him, hoping that he didn't notice how her hands were shaking.

“I will return at the end of the day to escort you home,” he said, and she wondered whether he meant her home or his.

“I won't be here,” she said.

He only shrugged. “I'll find you. I'll always find you.”

Victoria was saved from having to ponder that ominous statement by the bell over the door. “I have to work,” she muttered.

Robert executed a smart bow and waved his hand toward the door. His courtly gesture faltered, however, when he saw the dress shop's latest customers.

Mrs. Brightbill bustled in, pulling Harriet along behind her. “Ah, there you are, Miss Lyndon,” she trilled. “And Robert, too.”

“I had a feeling we might find you here, cousin,” Harriet said.

Victoria bobbed a curtsy. “Mrs. Brightbill. Miss Brightbill.”

Harriet waved a hand at her. “Please do call me Harriet. We are to be relations, after all.”

Robert beamed at his cousin.

Victoria scowled at the floor. Much as she would have liked to scowl at Harriet, store policy did not allow her to make faces at customers. And she had just spent all morning trying to convince Robert that she wanted to keep her position at the dress shop, hadn't she?

“We have come to ask you to tea,” Harriet announced.

“I'm afraid I must decline,” Victoria said demurely. “It wouldn't be proper.”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Brightbill declared.

“My mother is considered an authority on what is proper and what is not,” Harriet said. “So if she says it is proper, you can be sure that it is.”