Page List


Font:  

At that, Taviston decided retreat was the best course of action. She had decided to stay and nothing else mattered right now. He nodded curtly and strode out of the room.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING Taviston lay in his huge bed, alone, as he had every morning of his life except one. One night he had spent with his wife and now he didn’t think he could ever again sleep without her. After having passed the night longing for Victoria’s presence, he would have paid a king’s ransom to have her there beside him, even with the condition that he couldn’t touch her.

As yesterday afternoon had worn on, Taviston House had cleared of most of its occupants. All of his relatives, including his mother and sister, had beaten a hasty retreat. Even James, claiming he needed a change of scenery for a while, had taken himself off to Peyton’s townhouse.

Victoria had avoided him for the remainder of the day, going so far as to have a dinner tray sent to her bedchamber. Bravely, he had knocked on her door once, only to receive a harsh command to “go away.”

While his head, his heart, and yes, his body had ached for Victoria, the time alone had nonetheless provided him an opportunity to think. He found it much easier to think rationally when the woman he loved wasn’t in the same room.

Sitting up, he slid off the bed and dressed quickly, without Dunne’s assistance. He could make this right, somehow. He didn’t have a sound plan as of yet, but something would occur to him soon. He had never expected to fall in love with the woman he married, but now that he had, he wasn’t going to settle for a marriage of convenience.

An empty breakfast room greeted him. He hadn’t really expected Victoria to be there, but it would have been a nice surprise. After filling his plate, he sat down and picked up the newspaper. Beneath it lay a copy of Hither and Yon. The edition with the two of them making sheep’s eyes at each other plastered on the front. Looking at the utter devotion on his face, he wondered if the artist had known his true feelings before he ever did. No, this sketch was a fantasy from start to finish because except for her night of play-acting to save his reputation, Victoria had never looked at him with such adoration. The way things were going, that wasn’t likely to change.

Unless he could make her fall in love with him. Must he resort to taking lessons from Peyton on wooing a woman?

Arthur, lover of all things edible, waited patiently below Taviston’s chair, with the full knowledge that he would consciously drop tasty tidbits his way. As Taviston dangled a bite of ham toward the cat, Victoria sailed into the room as if she’d been duchess for a decade and not a day. His beautiful, lovely wife, who did not at all resemble either the woman in the gossip rag or the ideal bride he had wanted for himself, took the seat the footman held for her, her chin regally set. He couldn’t have loved her more than in that moment. Despite what she thought of him, she wasn’t going to back down. Victoria would give him no quarter when he didn’t deserve it.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully as he rose.

She wore a subdued morning dress of palest grey which hugged her body closely in all the places Taviston wished he could. With a scathing look in his direction she set a piece of paper beside her plate. Taviston sat again, stifling a sigh.

Halston approached her. “Would you care for tea or chocolate, Your Grace?”

“Chocolate would be wonderful, Halston.”

“May I fill your plate, my lady wife?” Taviston offered.

She pursed her lips and shot him a dismissive glance. “Halston, would you please dish me up some eggs, two slices of ham, three kippers, and two of those delectable buns?”

Taviston wisely said nothing. After Halston delivered her plate and she began to eat, he attempted to start a conversation.

“How are you this morning?”

“Well enough.” After those two terse words she paid him no heed but consumed her breakfast and occasionally glanced at the sheet of paper beside her plate.

Taviston withdrew behind his newspaper. The breakfast room table was comparatively small and he sensed her relax slightly. Truthfully, he was eyeing the scandal sheet again. He couldn’t bear to look at their picture, however, so he flipped it over. An item in the corner caught his eye. He chuckled, quietly at first, but then he couldn’t contain a burst of laughter.

“What is so amusing?” Irritation marked her very word.

Lowering the newspaper, he met her blue gaze. “Lady Tessa Colvin has become engaged to the Earl of Lytham.”

“Is he a friend of yours?” Her voice still harbored annoyance but at least she spoke to him.

“No, I don’t know either of them,” he said happily. Thank God he had never chanced to meet Lady Tessa Colvin. She couldn’t possibly compare to the imperfect, yet perfect woman who sat across from him.

Victoria clearly thought him addled. “Then why does their engagement amuse you so?”

“Perhaps one day I will tell you, when your mood is more charitable. I am not at all sure of your reaction right now.”

He had never seen her in such a prolonged snit before. Did she really hate him? Until yesterday he would never have thought so. Perhaps she didn’t love him, but she had seemed to tolerate him fairly well.

She answered with a withering look and rose from the table. Taviston quickly followed suit. “What are your plans for today?”

She adopted a haughty expression he couldn’t help but admire. “I am planning my first dinner party. Everyone” —she gave him a contemptuous glare— “will expect the Duchess of Taviston to entertain, will they not?” She waved her piece of paper at him. “I am refining my guest list.”

God help him. A revenge dinner party. He managed to keep his voice neutral. “May I inquire as to who has made your list?”

She named two dukes, a marquis, an earl, three prominent members of parliament, two society matrons, and the Prince of Wales. Taviston gulped and gripped the back of his chair for support. His next words slipped out before he could stop them. “Perhaps you are being too ambitious.” An aggrieved look slashed across her face then quickly disappeared into one of outrage. “We could always start with a smaller affair and build up to your guest list in a few months.” His words faded as he saw the uselessness of his plea.


Tags: Charlotte Russell His and Hers Historical