“Taviston!”
Victoria started, nearly spilling her tea right down her gown. So much for sense and composure.
TAVISTON NAVIGATED his way to the drawing room, having been summoned by his mother, via a message from Halston. He wasn’t aware they had a visitor until he opened the door and heard his mother’s surprised exclamation and then a muttered phrase sounding suspiciously like, “Oh, drat.”
The devil was surely chuckling at this moment. Taviston wanted nothing more right now than to avoid Miss Victoria Forster. And here she sat in his drawing room, having tea with his mother. For a mere second he contemplated being rude and turning around and leaving but found he just couldn’t. He approached the sofa.
“Mother.” He nodded toward his parent and afterward turned to their guest. “Miss Forster.”
The object of his morning’s musings had stood up as he had crossed the room. She gave him a negligible curtsy and then mumbled the words “Your Grace” without ever looking up at him. She retook her seat with lightning speed.
“Do join us for some tea, son. Is there something you needed?” his mother queried.
Taviston gave her a baffled look. She acted as if she hadn’t requested his presence. He took a seat in the chair next to the sofa and waved toward the tea service. “Tea would do nicely. There is nothing I need, Mother.” Except for this petite female to be transported to a deserted island, from where she wouldn’t be able to cast her spells over his body.
She had kissed him last night. The little minx. Over the past few days, he had drawn on every last drop of his willpower to stop himself from hauling her into his arms and wrenching the innocence from her lips. And look what she had done. She had grabbed him by the coat and kissed him. Her inexperience had not dulled his desire at all. Oh, no. Her initiation of the embrace had only driven him more mad. Her desire was clearly a match for his, that much had been determined.
Fortunately, sanity had pricked his brain. He had suddenly realized the complete stupidity and wrongness of what they were doing. If they had been discovered by anyone, his name would be beyond scandalized right now. Exactly why he needed to avoid her at all costs. She wasn’t some lightskirt he could tumble and move on from. She was off limits, out of bounds. Off limits, out of bounds. He repeated the mantra over and over.
He had enjoyed their discussion of the Roman Empire and was impressed by her intelligence and her willingness to argue with him over certain points of contention. Hopefully he could find the same kind of intellectual stimulation in his future wife.
Now, she rose and went to the tea table without ever looking his way. As she poured she said, “How do you like your tea, sir?”
Why was it when Victoria spoke the words “Your Grace” and “sir” he felt like grinding his teeth?
“A splash of milk and a dash of sugar, please.”
He looked her over while she kept her head down and readied his cup. A lovely blue gown showed a great deal of her slender neck and the very tops of her smooth breasts. Thank God she had not been wearing such a thing last night. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Kissing her the night before had not diminished his desire in any way, which was why he had tried to prevent such an occurrence in the first place.
She carefully walked his tea over to him. Her short stature brought her velvety skin right to his eye level. Taking the cup, he swept his gaze toward the fireplace. If he didn’t rein in his illicit thoughts, he was going to thoroughly embarrass everyone in the room. He took a drink of his tea and looked across at his mother. That did the trick.
“Miss Forster has thoughtfully paid me a visit on this wretched day. I certainly did not expect her to take our little deceptive conversation from the other night seriously. However, I am truly delighted she did.” The duchess flashed them both a brilliant smile.
Miss Forster turned a murderous glare his way. He gave her a small shrug. So he had misled her about his mother’s state of mind. Perhaps she would gain a little cachet with the ton and her cousin from the visit.
She didn’t appear at all pleased with his lackadaisical response to her angry stare, but he did not care. At least she wasn’t looking at him with hot desire in her eyes.
“It is a pleasure to have you in our home,” he said to her in his most agreeable tone.
She redirected her deadly stare to the fire, and he could have sworn he saw the flames jump. Her hands fisted in her lap, no doubt to keep from strangling him.
“Taviston attended the Burtons’ ball last evening. He is looking for a bride,” the duchess announced brightly.
“Mother.” She needn’t trumpet the information about. She had more than a little bit of the devil in her and had unfortunately passed that trait straight to Peyton.
“I do beg your pardon, my son. You have attended two balls in the space of a week. I assumed after our previous conversation you must be wife shopping. Am I wrong?” she asked with a glint in her eye.
Taviston blatantly ignored her and drank his tea.
The duchess turned to Victoria instead. “How did you spend last evening, Miss Forster?”
Without a smile she answered, “I attended the Burtons’ ball as well.”
“Indeed,” the duchess said with interest. “Did you chance upon my son there?”
The put-upon young woman sighed, almost inaudibly. “Yes, I did. We discussed the decline of the Roman Empire at length.”
“Really,” his mother said with disbelief.