The Skilled Seduction (31 page)

“Oh, I would have loved to have witnessed the readings of those missives,” she teased. “Need I remind you that Sebastian physically assaulted you? I dare say he isn’t blissful about any of this.”

Tristan unbuttoned his jacket. “They will be in time. So will you, Victoria.”

He no longer addressed her by her nickname. No, she was too sensual, intelligent, and seductive to ever be called
Tori
again – at least not by him.

She was magnificent.

What had taken him so long to act upon it?
 

Victoria turned to face him. “What happens now?”

“Whatever feels natural,” Tristan rolled onto his side then flattened his palm against her cheek.

Sighing, Victoria leaned into his hand. “Today felt so strained. We presented a jovial performance for your grandfather and Meg, but that was for show. I miss you, the friend you have always been to me. And I mourn the loss of our former selves.”

“Here’s an idea,” Tristan propped his head, leaning on his elbow. “Tonight will be a new beginning. No pressure, no expectations. We use this night to get to know one another. No pretenses. Just you and me. Here.”

“A fresh start?” she arched her auburn brow. “You make it sound so simple.”

He laced his fingers through hers. “We can make it work. I have faith in us.”

“You and faith in the same statement, and lightning hasn’t struck your townhome? Imagine that,” she quipped.

His hearty chuckle bolstered her desire to make the attempt, though she remained skeptical.

Rising from the bed, Victoria headed towards the door. “There is no time like the present but, first, I need to locate my maid. I rang for her ages ago.”
 

Victoria reached for the knob and tugged the door open. “Do you think she is lo—”

Meg tumbled into the room, landing on the floor with an audible “ouch.” Clearly she had been leaning against the door, eavesdropping on the private conversation between husband and wife.

“For heaven’s sake, are you all right?” Victoria asked, offering her hand to help the woman to her feet.

Tristan hid his laughter behind a cough.

“Y- yes, quite right, my Lady,” she stuttered. “I take it you’ll be residing here tonight?”

Victoria crossed her arms over her chest. “How did you ever guess?”
 

A bright scarlet crept over her maid’s cheeks. As if desperate to subvert her mistress’s scrutiny, Meg averted her eyes, instead intent on smoothing her skirts. “Shall I help you dress for bed, then?”

Glancing from her maid to her husband, the sight of Tristan’s wide grin caused Victoria to roll her eyes before returning her attention to Meg, who was now studying the pleats in her apron. Waiting for Tristan to leave the room, Tori suspected, though it was evident that he was enjoying this comedy of errors far too much to make it easier on poor Meg by departing his own suite.

“Let us head into the changing room, Meg,” Victoria instructed. Once she had the woman’s attention, Meg took her time causing her mistress to reach for her arm with an exasperated sigh before dragging her into the rather large room.

“If you insist on spying, Meg, might I suggest you join military intelligence?” Victoria’s admonishment was laced with exasperation.

Her maid bowed her head in compliance then dared to add, “Your husband appears to be behaving amiably under the circumstances, my Lady.”

Tori placed her hair clip on the dresser, “Indeed, he does.”

“But of course he is an absolute scoundrel,” Meg countered.

Victoria offered her friend a reluctant grin. “Thank you for saying so, but I am married to the man and he does appear to be making an effort.”

“Then why are you so pensive?”

Rubbing her eyes, Tori spoke what was gnawing at her heart. “Can I trust him? He portrayed the doting groom to perfection today. What if this, too is an act?

“If I may, he seems rather taken with you.”

Tori opened the wardrobe, noting that only some of her gowns fit inside. She then knelt beside her two trunks, which were now propped up against a free wall, removing several items from one of them. The wide expanse of the room was rather cozy, with a dresser, wardrobe, and shaving stand. As she knew from this morning, a claw-foot tub and basin were behind another door, just past the changing screen.
 

Tossing several items onto the chaise beside her trunks, Victoria continued her search until she found just what she was hoping to find, a cream colored silk peignoir with gold embroidery and a matching robe with more embroidery and four silk covered buttons at the waist. Both the peignoir and matching robe had v-necklines that would accentuate just the right amount of bare flesh. Since Victoria hadn’t made any wedding preparations, nor did she own anything even close to appropriate for a wedding night, this set was the closest she would be able to find.
 

“This will do nicely,” she held it up for Meg to see.

“Refresh my memory, my Lady. Why is that?”

“The peignoir is for me to sleep in,” Tori found the notion quite obvious and quickly became concerned for her maid’s mental state.

Meg grimaced. “No, why aren’t you trusting your heart? Look at the man’s actions. In spite of your elopement, he seems to have silenced any chance of rumors by having both me and his grandfather, a viscount, chaperone you both. You are under the viscount’s protection. He expressly told Tristan so last night. How could there be scandal when he and your brother, a duke, both support the union? Besides, Mr. MacAlistair doted on you throughout the ceremony. Not to mention the conversation that I didn’t overhear—”

“He was quite convincing, was he not?” Tori gathered her tresses with her fingers so Meg could unbutton the back of her gown.

A new beginning …

The room began to spin at the thought. After Meg unlaced her corset, Victoria walked behind the changing screen, clutching the soft fabric against her chest in an attempt to calm her erratic heartbeat.

God, how she wanted to believe her husband.

“You have nothing to lose,” Meg called to her mistress.

Tori craned her neck from behind the screen, “Other than more tears and heartache?”

Once she had donned her night clothes, Victoria walked from behind the screen, her maid’s audible catch of breath causing Tori to halt mid-step. “What is it?”

Turning towards the long mirror, she studied her reflection. The floor length, ivory colored silk peignoir and matching robe were beautiful, flawlessly showcasing her curvy silhouette. It was just the look Victoria had hoped to achieve.
 

“I dare say, his honesty will become quite evident once he’s seen you in that,” Meg pointed to Tori.

Victoria contemplated her friend’s statement as she surveyed her reflection Yes, Tristan was attracted to her but this evening wasn’t about artifice. Tori decided to take a risk as she scrubbed her face at the basin.

Tonight Tristan would witness her true self. That would be enough to judge his sincerity.
 

Meg brushed Tori’s long, wavy mane. “Loving your husband isn’t foolish.”

“It is when one’s husband doesn’t love her in return,” Tori said with a tinge of regret. She turned to her maid. “Thank you for your help, Meg. You may retire now.”

“Good luck,” Meg curtsied before shutting the door to the dressing room behind her.

Victoria studied her reflection. The time for judgment had drawn near. Soon she would learn if Tristan truly wanted to get to know the woman he married.

“No more artifice,” she winked at her reflection.

* * *

The door to the adjoining changing room closed with a loud
thud
and Tristan turned in time to catch Meg scurrying across the floor of his bedchamber.

Once she reached the door, she bent as if to curtsey. Instead she paused, her hand stilled atop the knob.

“Is there something you require?” he asked.

For a fleeting second her eyes darted towards the door she had just closed. Meg then met his gaze once again. “Don’t you dare take her for granted.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“No, but you will if you hurt Lady Victoria,” Meg warned in a menacing voice before curtsying then exiting from the room posthaste.

Tristan walked to the hall and peered at the maid’s retreating figure. Had he just been properly trounced by a servant? And what was this feeling bubbling within him?

Amusement?

Tristan was becoming soft, he thought, a guffaw escaping his throat as he shut the door behind him.

I’ll be damned.

“What do you find so amusing?” Victoria asked, standing in the center of the room, the firelight illuminating her voluptuous form. Her beauty looked ethereal in this light and Tristan was afraid to speak, afraid to move, in case she vanished like vapor.

“Well?” she prompted, placing her hand upon her hip. What a lovely hip it was, Tristan knew from experience, longing to become reacquainted with it.

“Your maid,” he snapped himself back from his impure thoughts. “She just threatened me.”

Victoria beamed a bright smile. “Bodily harm or was she speaking figuratively?”

“It was indisputably bodily harm,” he replied, his tone teasing.

“Ah, well, she gets a raise in the morning. Retroactive, I dare say,” Victoria removed one of her earrings, a simple, everyday gesture, yet one that caused a lump of emotion to lodge in Tristan’s throat at the mere sight.
 

She is a goddess
, he thought.

One who robbed him of all reason.

“Meg has left you speechless,” Victoria continued, now removing her other pearl drop earring. “I shall double her salary.”

Tristan crossed the room. “You’re mighty generous with my money, I see.”

“It’s our money, darling,” her tone was silky sweet as she dropped her earrings into a dish upon the table. “Not legally, of course, but you knew what you were getting into when you married me. After all, if we are to lobby for women’s rights, we must begin at home. You’ll be the talk of London.”

Yes, he could hear them laughing from here.

She reached behind her neck, for the clasp of her necklace but Tristan grasped her hand.

“Don’t,” he caressed her hand with his thumb. “Leave it on.” His fingers traced a path down her neck, underneath her choker of three rows of pearls. “You look stunning just the way you are.”

Victoria’s eyes searched his and the expression reflected within his mahogany gaze terrified her. It was the need, the desire, the same raw emotion she saw that fateful night she spent with him – that tenderness she once construed as love.
 

But it wasn’t.

Though tonight was a new beginning, she couldn’t forget that one simple fact.
He doesn’t love you.
Four words, her lifeline. She must never forget them.

They would save her from further heartache.

“I have something for you,” Tristan said, his tone more gentle than she had ever heard it. He took her hand, leading her towards the bed. Victoria grabbed one of the wide mahogany four posters. It anchored her as Tristan opened a small drawer underneath one of the bedside tables, withdrawing a miniature box made of what looked like dark velvet. A small cornflower blue bow was tied with a ribbon around it. He sat on the bed and placed it beside him.

Tori joined him upon the soft mattress, noting how the corners of his mouth curved in a slight smile when she did so. She then glanced at the box that now rested upon the hunter green and gold coverlet between them.

“Open it,” he prodded, picking it up and holding it out to her.

As Victoria reached for her gift, her fingers grazed his palm, her skin prickling from the mere touch.

Again, she studied the velvet box in her hands before gently untying the ribbon. She never expected a gift and the surprise gesture threw her off balance. So much so that her fingers shook slightly as she opened the box.

Her breath caught in her throat as she surveyed its contents. Resting in the plush velvet setting was the most exquisite ring she had ever seen. Delicate round emeralds were encrusted in the band, jetting out like leaves, while sapphires comprised what appeared to be a bluebell. This was a flower in every sense, complete with petals and leaves. The artistry of the piece left her breathless.

“Before you comment, I chose it all by myself,” Tristan’s tone was laced with a combination of pride and humor.

Victoria gently touched the magnificent design with her fingertips.

“I requested it be designed before our betrothal, as a gift. I saw a flower similar to this on one of your murals and wanted something that represented your art. After the fiasco of the ruby, I asked my jeweler to work overtime and complete his task for you.”

Tristan shifted closer to her, placing his warm hand on her knee in a possessive gesture. The fact that his heat permeated her skin, even through her silk robe, caused Victoria’s pulse to quicken.

“You were right about the ruby. It doesn’t suit you. I think this one reflects the creative, unique woman I married. At least that was my intention.”