To Catch a Countess (16 page)

“What would you have done with a magic wand?”

“Point, circle, point.”

Victoria pretended to hold a wand in her hand and demonstrated. She pointed at an invisible object, made an invisible circle, and pointed at the unseen object again.

Alexander laughed. “Why did you want to do that?”

“I wanted to turn the other children to stone.”

Alexander smiled. “What a naughty chit.”

“I wanted to stop the other children from making fun of Samantha and me,” Victoria said. “Whenever I had trouble with directions, the other children called me stupid.”

Alexander lost his smile. The poignancy of her story tugged at his heart, and he regretted calling her stupid. If he could get his hands on the insensitive urchins—

“As you see, I survived.” Victoria rose from her perch on the cot. “I hope that isn’t pity I see. I prefer stupidity to pity.”

“You aren’t stupid,” Alexander said, standing when she did. “You accepted my marriage proposal, didn’t you?”

“I suppose that means I’m not hopeless.”

Determined to slay the dragons hiding in the shadows of her memory, Alexander pulled her against the hard, muscular planes of his body and imprisoned her within the protective circle of his embrace. He dipped his head and captured her lips in a slow, breath-stealing kiss that seemed to last forever.

Victoria sighed. “I thought we’d never be alone again.”

“This could be the last time we are alone until the wedding,” Alexander told her.

Victoria groaned with disappointment.

“Thank you, my love. Since we are alone, I would like to tutor you on right and left.”

“You are doomed to failure.”

“Darling, cooperate with me.”

Without giving her a chance to reply, Alexander captured her lips again. His kiss was long and languorous. “This is your left ear.” He slid his lips across her cheek to nibble on her earlobe. “And this is the left side of your throat.” His lips followed his words.

“I never knew learning could be such fun,” Victoria whispered, savoring the sensations he was creating.

Alexander captured her lips again. Flicking his tongue across the crease in between her lips, he sought and gained access to the sweetness within. She was soft, and her delicate scent of vanilla and jasmine inflamed his senses.

Her gown fluttered to the floor when he stepped back. She stood in chemise, stockings, garters, and slippers.

“Left shoulder,” Alexander said, unfastening the chemise’s ribbons. “Right shoulder now.”

Her chemise fell to the floor and pooled at her feet. Victoria stood in her stockings and garters only, enjoying his perusal.

Alexander unpinned her hair, letting the curly mane of fire cascade almost to her waist. Then he stepped back to admire her nakedness. With a smile on his lips, Alexander studied her lovely face with its alabaster skin and pink lips, her breasts with their pink-tipped nipples, her slender waist, her curvaceous hips . . .

Victoria knew the instant he spied the small dagger inside the leather garter strapped to her calf.

Alexander lost his smile. “What is that?”

“I think it’s my leg.”

Alexander snapped his gaze to hers. “Tory, I am serious.”

“Old habits die hard.”

His expression softened on her. “You look like a pagan princess with your red curls and that dagger.”

“Continue with my lessons.”

With a groan, Alexander lifted her into his arms and placed her across the cot. He spread her thighs and stepped between them, running a finger along her moist crease, eliciting a gasp from her.

“Left breast,” he whispered, leaning over her to suckle upon one pink nipple. “Right breast.”

Victoria moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer. Closer. Closer.

Alexander freed his manhood and rubbed its tip against her nub. “Tell me what you want, Tory.”

“I want you inside me.”

Alexander thrust forward and pushed himself deep inside her until their groins touched. Then he moved . . . slowly, enticingly, inviting her to move with him.

Catching his rhythm, Victoria kept her legs wrapped around him. She moved with him, hands clutching his back, his powerful muscles flexing beneath her silken touch.

Her throaty moans incited him to thrust harder, deeper. Victoria cried out as her body shuddered with contractions of pleasure. Only then did Alexander join her, flooding her womb, collapsing upon her.

Long, silent moments passed. The only sound each heard was the life blood singing through their bodies, the rhythm of their heartbeats.

Alexander lifted his weight off her. Supporting himself on his elbows, he looked down at her.

“What direction was that?” Victoria asked, her voice a breathless whisper.

“That, my love, was dead center.”

*    *    *

Victoria dressed with special care that evening, wanting Alexander’s attention fixed on her, not the voluptuous widow. She chose a midnight blue silk gown, its bodice cut in a V in front, hinting at cleavage. High-waisted, the gossamer silk clung to every curve. The only jewelry she wore was her diamond betrothal ring. Her aunt’s maid had styled her fiery mane in an upswept fashion.

“Darling, you are more dazzling than the noonday sun and more enchanting than the silvery moon,” Aunt Roxie drawled, walking into her bedchamber. “Come, Alexander is waiting.”

After one final peek at herself in the cheval mirror, Victoria turned to her aunt. Her smile was sunny, but worry clouded her eyes.

“I have some advice,” Aunt Roxie said.

For the first time in her life, Victoria appreciated her aunt’s experience. “I need all the advice you can give.”

“First of all, there is nothing to worry about,” Aunt Roxie said, taking her hand in hers. “If either of those two witches insults you, return the insult sweetly, putting them on the defensive. Look them in the eye as if you were superior to them in every way. Which you are, darling. Do not disagree with Alex in any way. If he does or says something you don’t like, wait until you are alone to criticize him.”

“What if the widow flirts with Alex?”

“If you aren’t in close proximity to cling to him physically,” her aunt answered, “then you must flirt with Venetia’s husband. That will bring Alex scurrying to your side.”

“How do I flirt with Mr. Gibbs?” Victoria asked, beginning to panic.

“Trust your instincts, darling,” Aunt Roxie said, touching her niece’s cheek. “You carry my blood in your veins. Flirting will come naturally once you start. Imagine you are the greatest actress in the world performing before an audience of four. Throw yourself into the role with aplomb.”

“I love you, Aunt Roxie.”

“I love you, too, darling.”

Walking down the stairs to the foyer, Victoria caught Alexander’s first glimpse of her. She crossed the foyer to stand before him and gave him an inscrutable smile.

“You look beautiful,” Alexander complimented her, “but I do not trust that smile. What are you planning?”

“I am planning an enjoyable evening with you.”

A short time later, the Gibbs’s majordomo greeted them at the door. After taking Victoria’s silk cape, the man escorted them upstairs to the drawing room where the others had already gathered.

“Welcome to our home.” Harry Gibbs met them midway across the drawing room and shook Alexander’s hand. Then he lifted Victoria’s hand to his lips before escorting them across the room.

Venetia and Diana sat together on the settee. Alexander bent to kiss his sister’s cheek and then lifted the widow’s hand to his lips.

Victoria felt disheartened when she looked at the widow. Diana Drummond wore a black low-cut gown. She wondered how she could compete with the widow’s voluptuous sophistication. Then Victoria thought of her aunt and gave herself a mental shake, telling herself she was just as good as the widow. Especially if reading was not required.

Think aplomb, Victoria told herself.

“How delightful to see you again,” Victoria said, an insincere smile pasted on her face.

She glanced at Alexander. His lips quirked as if he wanted to laugh.

“Is that your betrothal ring?” Diana asked, her gaze on the enormous diamond.

Victoria held her hand out for their inspection.

“My devoted husband-to-be has vowed to drench me in diamonds,” she told them. “I do believe he has made a good beginning.”

“Alexander always did have excellent taste,” Venetia said.

“Especially in my choice of a bride,” Alexander added.

“Well said.” Harry Gibbs gestured to the doorway. “Shall we go down to dinner?”

Venetia and Diana rose from the settee. As if they had planned their moves, the two women slipped an arm through Alexander’s, trapping him between them, and escorted him out of the drawing room.

Victoria narrowed her gaze on their backs. Harry Gibbs offered her his arm. Walking beside him, Victoria noted the widow was unacceptably close to Alexander, close enough to press her breast against his arm.

“Is something wrong?” Harry Gibbs asked, his voice low.

Victoria managed a smile for him and thought aplomb. “Whatever could be wrong when I am escorted to dinner by such a handsome man as you?”

“Don’t let my sister bother you,” he whispered. “Diana is an incorrigible flirt.”

Beneath the majordomo’s supervision, two footmen served dinner. They dined on cucumber soup, dandelion salad with sharp vinaigrette, stuffed meadow mushrooms, and roasted chicken with potatoes. There were lemon barley water and wine.

“Would you prefer warmed milk?” Venetia asked, eliciting a smile from her sister-in-law, when Victoria declined the wine.

There was nothing subtle about the woman’s insult. In her mind’s eye, Victoria pictured her aunt gesturing dramatically and saying, “Think aplomb.”

“Lemon barley water will suffice,” Victoria said, her smile sweet. She flicked a glance at Harry Gibbs, adding, “I admit I have not acquired a taste for wine or spirits. I’m certain my appreciation will grow with advancing age like Ladies Venetia and Diana.”

Harry Gibbs grinned. “My dear, you need never acquire such a taste in order to be delightful.”

“Thank you, sir.” Victoria willed herself to blush and dropped her gaze as if shy. She slanted a glance at Alexander, who was smiling as if he knew her ploy.

“I adore opera,” Diana Drummond said to Alexander. “Would you be amenable to my using your box one evening?”

“You are welcome to use it whenever you wish.”

“Do you still attend the opera every Thursday?” Venetia asked.

“Yes, I do.”

Diana Drummond laughed throatily. “I am still tickled by the chit who thought Mozart was Mo Sart.”

“I am the chit who said that,” Victoria announced, her expression placid.

Aplomb. Aplomb. Aplomb.

Their surprised expressions told her that she had caught them all—including Alexander—off balance. She could have kissed her aunt for the sound advice.

Harry Gibbs was the first to recover. “I daresay, Lady Victoria hasn’t the experience of you older ladies.”

With a come-hither expression, Victoria turned to him. She leaned close, her smile conspiratorial. “Did you know that Beethoven was a woman? Her name was actually Bea Toven.”

Harry Gibbs burst out laughing. “Lady Victoria, you’re a breath of fresh air after an evening in a smoky tavern.”

“Call me Tory,” she said. “All my friends do.”

“Tory, then.”

“Are you implying that I am a smoky tavern?” Venetia asked, her irritation apparent.

“Dearest, a compliment to one lady isn’t necessarily an insult to another,” Harry Gibbs told his wife.

“Diana loves to read,” Venetia said, turning to her brother. She looked at her sister-in-law, saying, “Alexander has an extensive library.”

“I would love to see this library and, perhaps, borrow a few books,” Diana said.

“A beautiful widow entering a bachelor’s home is not done in England,” Victoria said, before Alexander could speak. “You will be most welcome to browse in our library after we marry. Until then, London boasts numerous bookstores and lending libraries.”

“I’m certain Diana could come to the library if I accompany her,” Venetia spoke up. “After all, Alex and I are siblings.”

“Estranged siblings.” Victoria couldn’t imagine why Alexander was letting her do all the talking. His expression was pleasantly surprised rather than placid.

“They aren’t estranged any longer,” Diana said.

“That remains to be seen,” Victoria drawled. “Your behavior may be as innocent as a babe, but vicious rumors will spread if anyone sees you entering his house. Besides, Alex and I will be busy between now and the wedding. Won’t we, darling?”

“We do have a full social schedule until then,” Alexander agreed, amusement lighting his eyes.

Victoria smiled at Diana. With her hands in her lap, Victoria pointed her index finger at the widow, made a circle with it, and then pointed it toward her again as if she had a magic wand. In her mind, she had just turned the widow to stone.

Alexander chuckled. Lifting his gaze from her lap, he leaned close and whispered, “Bravo, Tory.”

“What is so amusing?” Venetia asked.

“I apologize for my rudeness,” Alexander said to his sister. “It’s a private joke between my bride-to-be and me.”

Victoria knew Alexander didn’t trust her to be alone with the two women when he said, “Harry, there are only the two of us. Why don’t we have our brandy in the drawing room?”

“I’m amenable,” the other man said, and rose from his chair.

Alexander pulled Victoria close as they climbed the stairs to the drawing room. “You naughty minx,” he whispered against her ear. “You are beginning to remind me of your aunt.”

“I thank you, darling, on behalf of my aunt,” Victoria drawled.

Alexander and Victoria sat together on the settee as brandy, coffee, and tea were served. “Oh, drat, no warmed milk,” she said, making the men smile.

When Alexander put his arm on the settee in back of her, Victoria cuddled close to his body. She ignored the two women and feigned attention to his conversation with Harry Gibbs concerning shipping lines, the wool trade, and other subjects.