With a jerk, he sat up straight. That slippery thought of a moment ago formed into a damning conclusion.
He loved her. He loved Victoria.
He staggered out of his chair feeling slightly nauseous.
He was in love with his wife. How the devil had that happened? He had spent so much time trying to find the ideal duchess that Victoria had been able to sneak right into his heart, catching him unaware. She might be everything he never wanted in a wife, but she was perfect for him. She made him laugh, and more importantly, kept him from being too serious.
Looking back over the last month, he granted that the signs were all there, at least in hindsight. At Northfield’s dinner party he had been terribly jealous. Even now he could not forget the heartache and despair he had suffered when Victoria had at first refused to marry him.
What to do now? Find her, of course. What more could he need, then to be with the one he loved? He was halfway to the door when a knock resonated.
Halston entered, accompanied by another investigator. This could not wait.
Taviston spent the next hour and fifteen minutes caged inside his study. He usually considered the room a sanctuary, but not today. The rest of his men, four in all, arrived with reports of their activities, one after the other. He was, of course, extremely intrigued with all the information the men relayed—especially the fact that Victoria’s maid had not ridden in the carriage with her.
But more than anything he wanted to go to Victoria. He had no idea whether or not he would tell her about his feelings. He couldn’t contemplate how this would all play out, but he wanted to be by her side. Now. Or rather, seventy-five minutes ago.
He tidied up the sheets of paper he had taken notes on and laid them in a desk drawer. As he closed the drawer another knock resounded on the thick door. He stared at it malevolently. Would he never get out of there?
Checking a growl of frustration, he rose to greet his mother. He had held out a small hope it might have been Victoria. The more fool he.
After exchanging brief pleasantries mother and son sat. Taviston eyed her across the expanse of his desk with impatience.
“What do you need, Mother?” he asked, more curtly than he meant to.
“You don’t look well, Taviston,” she replied with concern, not answering his question at all.
“I am fine. What is it you need to speak to me about?” He had drained his supply of patience completely in the last hour.
“I wouldn’t think a newly married man would be so irascible one day after his wedding,” she said amiably, clearly unperturbed by her eldest son’s manner.
Good God, he loved his mother dearly, but he didn’t care for her company right this moment. He sat back, crossed his arms tightly over his chest and leveled a glare at her.
“It is past two o’clock and this married man has yet to see his wife this day. I have somewhere else I would like to be, so if you could kindly tell me what you need, I would be most appreciative.” He admitted to himself his tone was a little harsh, but again his mother didn’t seem to notice.
“I apologize for keeping you. I have decided to accompany Harriet back to Hampshire this afternoon. I haven’t seen my grandchildren in too many months.”
Once again Taviston’s thoughts had drifted to Victoria—specifically her beauty, both inside and out—and he hadn’t comprehended anything his mother had said. Something about his sister and a hamper. A picnic perhaps?
“Dearest.” The word was affectionate, her tone not nearly so. “Your sist
er has invited me to visit her in Hampshire and I believe I will stay a few weeks.”
Ah, that made more sense. “You, the Duchess of Taviston, are going to leave London in the midst of the Season?”
She smiled. “I am now the dowager duchess, my darling, but yes, I am. You and your duchess need some time to yourselves. Since you have postponed your wedding trip until later in the summer, this seems a perfect solution.”
“Very well.” They both rose and exchanged a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Do be careful traveling.”
“Do not worry about me. Enjoy your private time with Victoria.” She paused then added, “I believe she will make you a fine wife indeed.”
“Yes, she will.”
His mother blinked repeatedly, surprised at his affirmation, but she didn’t comment. She did, however, leave with a smile on her face.
Finally.
Taviston straightened his waistcoat and tugged on his coat sleeves, making sure his appearance was worthy of the woman he loved. Before he could take one step toward the door another fist met the solid wood in a firm rap.