The Skilled Seduction (25 page)

Yes, her mother knew. It was the secret she had taken to her grave. The same secret Victoria had hidden from Sebastian for years.

Tristan and she were far too much alike, more so than he would ever know, though their similarities begot their biggest differences. While Tristan publically raged against his parents’ injustices, Victoria hid hers from the world. Little did those closest to her know what a wonderful liar she had been. Fearless, confident, carefree Victoria belied her genuine self. No, hidden in the depths of her soul was still the scared little girl who screamed for help when the monster came to her room in the dead of night.

“I kept my promise to you, Mama,” Victoria whispered, her words slicing the thick, damp air. “I never told anyone.”

Victoria’s heart weighed heavy whenever she recalled her last conversation with her mother, the many secrets and lies that were expected of her. “I never told Sebastian, just as you instructed,” she whispered, removing her gloves, gently tugging one finger at a time. “It wasn’t easy hiding it from him, Mama.”

Victoria thought of the times she acted brave and strong, remembering all those nights that her father prowled the halls, until the evening when he entered her room.
 

It was the first time her father had hit her.
 

In truth, he intended to do much worse.

But, Mama had followed in his wake, a mask of fury contorting her beautiful features. Victoria often wondered what would have happened if her mother hadn’t come to her bedchamber that evening. What would her father have done to her?
 

Her blood ran cold in mere contemplation.

Mama had come, her own crazed expression mirroring that of Victoria’s drunken father. Mama knew what he wanted to do and she stopped him.

It was the one and only time Tori had witnessed her father hit her mother. He never expected her mother to strike back.
 

On that very night Rachel Montgomery taught her daughter an invaluable lesson, one Victoria never forgot. Her mother’s strong cadence reverberated through Victoria’s memories …

Never let a man own you. Men will tell you that females are helpless but we do have choices. Never relinquish your right to choose. Scandal is far better than the pain that marrying the wrong man can cause you.

Victoria could no longer control her tears, choosing instead to let them flow freely now.

“Oh, Mama, I’ve made such a mess of my life! I’ve chased after Tristan for so long that I lost myself. Worse yet, I’ve disgraced Sebastian.” Victoria searched the gray clouds that hung heavy above. “You suspected this would happen, didn’t you? It is why you convinced Sebastian to defy convention and put those funds aside for me. You knew I was going to destroy my life long before I ever did.”

As if in response, a cool, light rain began to gently fall as if the heavens themselves were weeping with her. Victoria allowed the cold shower to wash away her own tears, until there were no more tears to shed. Because she knew her mother understood.
 

Just as she knew her mother was the one person who would forgive her scandalous actions.

* * *

Tristan watched Victoria from afar, his heart breaking with every tear that she shed. Though hurting her was the last thing he had wanted to do, he had done so, just the same.
 

He would continue to do so if he followed through with his plan, but it was too late to retreat. Sebastian and Gwen now knew the truth. God only knew who overheard Tristan’s scuffle with Sebastian.
 

No, his orders had already been dispatched. He had no choice but to proceed and hope that someday Victoria would forgive him.

Standing stock-still, he witnessed Tori pouring her heart out to the only person, he suspected, she thought would understand. At last it dawned on him.

Victoria was just as lost as he was.

Until this moment, Tristan had no idea why he wanted to marry Victoria so much, why she tugged at his heart, why she weighed on his conscience. But then he followed Victoria to her mother’s grave and it suddenly made sense to him, the fog had lifted, at least in his mind, if not over the grounds.

She needed him as much as he needed her.
 

And he did need her.
 

He had admitted as much to Colin but that wasn’t the extent of it. Tristan needed her so much, in fact, that the prospect of living his life without her robbed him of his very breath. He needed Victoria to believe in him, to support him, to make him want to be a better person. He needed her to save him from a life without meaning.
 

Victoria was his heart’s purpose.

Their romance, if you could call it that, seemed to be a never-ending story beginning with their kiss on the morning of Colin’s wedding. Ever since then, he had been under her spell and try as he might, he couldn’t break free. Theirs was a relationship she willed into existence with her stubborn faith in him. Surely she must see what he already knew beyond a shadow of a doubt?
 

Living apart just didn’t make sense.

As he bridged the gap between them, Tristan knew he couldn’t say that he loved her. He also understood that there was a strong chance he might never be able to express his affection for her in words. But he could show her that he cared, he would, as soon as she would allow him.

Tristan passed through the gate, which had been left ajar, intently studying Victoria. Did she sense he was there? He thought not.

She knelt at her mother’s mausoleum with her back to him, wearing a midnight blue cloak. Surrounded by an ethereal mist, the sight caused a sharp, stabbing pain to seize his heart.

He’d never seen anyone more beautiful or more tragic.

Tristan’s boots sunk into the damp earth as he rounded the tomb. Her eyes were closed, her long lashes fanning her tear-stained cheeks. That same smooth, porcelain visage he’d caressed in his dreams at least a dozen times since their night together.
 

Her hood had fallen, pooling at her neck now, and her auburn tresses were wet, spiraling into tight ringlets. It was something he’d never before known about her. He longed to learn every intimate fact about Victoria.

She had fallen silent, leading Tristan to wonder if she’d found the answers she sought.

A twig snapped beneath his boot and he halted dead in his tracks, not two feet in front of her. Victoria’s eyes met his, the color of rich sapphires, and his skin prickled.
 

He’d never seen her so tortured.

Not until he had shaken her world to its core.

In those brief few seconds, realization struck Tristan, as fast and furious as the lightning that streaked through the dark gray sky just beyond them.
 

Victoria was his purpose.
 

Though she may not believe she needed his protection, he was fated to take care of her. All along, Victoria was the one he was meant to marry. He’d just been too blind to see it before.

Tristan knelt in front of her, his knees sinking into the wet grass as he cupped her face in his hands.

Her skin was cold, he noted, as he kissed the top of her head, his heartbeat increasing to a maddening rate as Tristan slid his arms under her cape and wrapped her in a tight embrace.
 

No words. He had none to offer. Instead, Tristan held her as she sobbed, his resolve strengthening with every tear she shed.

He was no longer sorry about what happened on that fateful night. His only regret lay in the fact that he was embroiling Victoria into his own scandals, ones she knew nothing about, though he no longer had a choice.
 

As he had learned from firsthand experience, fighting his attraction to her was futile.
 

It was time to begin his life with Victoria. He silently vowed to protect her until the end of time if she allowed him. He held her closer, his arms encircling her while she wept.

Thunder rumbled low and ominous in the distance, threatening a turbulent rainfall that hadn’t yet materialized.

Tristan was indeed destined to marry Victoria. How else could it feel so right when everything else had gone so terribly wrong?

He kissed her damp curls again and wrapped her in a cocoon of warmth and protection.

Victoria welcomed it, leaning against his chest, her eyes closed, trying to shut out everything that had transpired over the course of the past few days.
 

If she wanted to, she could believe that Tristan cared for her. Why else would he be holding her like this, kissing her, caressing her back and neck in such a gentle manner, if he didn’t? But that was a dangerous path to follow and Tori knew all too well where it would lead … with her heart breaking into thousands of tiny fragments.

He doesn’t love you
, she had to remind herself, over and over again.
He will never allow himself to love you.

“Don’t you see that this is right?” he whispered into her hair. “We were destined to need each other, Victoria.”

She inhaled deeply to steady her frantic pulse, the scent of his familiar cologne calming her taut nerves while his rich baritone lulled her into a respite from her tumultuous emotions.

“Sebastian is disgusted with me and your sister has disowned you.” Victoria leaned back, studying the violet bruise on his jaw. “I’m so very sorry about Gwen,” she said, tracing it with her fingertips. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“It will be all right,” he whispered, caressing her cheek idly with his thumb. “After we’re wed, they will accept us.”

Victoria remained unconvinced, both about her brother’s acceptance and about marrying Tristan. “I made my decision, Tristan. I chose to confess to Sebastian and disappear.”

The sorrow behind his eyes made her suspect that Tristan never expected this news.
 

“Do you honestly think that is the best course of action, after all that has occurred today?” he asked, his tone sincere and tender.

Even she had to concede that Tristan had a point. Their tryst was now common knowledge. Marrying Tristan would make it more respectable, would save Sebastian and his family from further disgrace.

Snuggling her face against Tristan’s chest, Victoria tried to block out her conscience and all of the questions it was conjuring. Would their families ever truly accept such a union? Could she really marry Tristan knowing she cared for him much more than he would ever care for her? Would he even want to marry her if she wasn’t pregnant?

“What if I’m not carrying your child, Tristan?” she whispered into his vest. She couldn’t bear to see his disappointment or, worse yet, his relief at the prospect.

Tristan kissed her temple. “There is a possibility that you are.”

“But if I’m not,” she said, struggling to keep her voice calm. “You will feel trapped and will despise me for it.”
 

Tristan tipped her chin until she met his rich mahogany gaze once again, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “If you’re not, then we’ll start a family the conventional way … by marrying first.”

Victoria shivered, not from the chill but from the fear of marrying him, opening her heart to him, laying it bare for him to splinter into a thousand pieces.

She would be sacrificing the tightknit control her mother warned her not to relinquish. But then again, she had done just that the night they made love.

As if sensing her inner turmoil, Tristan coaxed, “We belong together, you and I.” After pausing to kiss her forehead, he then added, “Marry me. I’ll be faithful and will cherish you. Can’t that be enough?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, afraid to break the spell he was weaving, one of sweet words and seemingly heartfelt promises. She wanted it to be true and, even more so, she wanted it to be enough. Victoria had never wanted to believe anything or anyone so much in her entire life.

A light mist again began to fall and Tristan adjusted her hood, guarding her from the chill.
   

“Come with me,” he helped her up before leading her away from the mausoleums. She wasn’t certain just how far they had walked before the downpour finally began but it was long enough for the mausoleums to be well out of sight.

Tristan guided her underneath a large leafy tree, one that shielded them from the downpour. “Marry me,” he said in a husky whisper, pulling her closer to him, his hand resting on the small of her back. “You want to. I know you do.”

Tori willed her frantic heartbeat to slow. His nearness and the intensity of his hooded gaze set all of her nerve endings on edge. She swallowed hard, afraid to admit the truth, careful not to change course, her decision already made. “I don’t.”

“Yes, you do,” Tristan grinned, tracing her jaw with his fingertips. “You want me, just like you did that night.”

Tristan’s fingertips traced a path down her neck then lower, skimming the neckline of her gown, the flesh above her bodice.

Victoria’s breath caught in her throat.

His lips claimed hers, the gentle massage of his tongue coaxing her lips to part. Drugged by his sensual kisses and hungry caresses, Tori explored the recesses of his mouth with her tongue as Tristan’s hands, warm and strong, trailed down her neck, then up again.