“I heard what you said!” She smacked his shoulder with the heel of her hand. “How dare you even presume to tell me not to strain your temper. You sent a thug after me! A villain. I could have been injured.”
The burly man who had grabbed her bristled. “Milord,” he said, “I really must interrupt.”
Robert's lips twitched. “Victoria, MacDougal objects to being called a villain. I believe you have hurt his feelings.”
Victoria just stared at him, quite unable to believe the direction the conversation had taken.
“I was most gentle with her,” MacDougal said.
“Victoria,” Robert said. “Perhaps an apology is in order.”
“An apology!” she screeched, having just been pushed a mile past her boiling point. “An apology! I think not.”
Robert turned to his servant with a long-suffering expression. “I don't think she's going to apologize.”
MacDougal sighed magnanimously. “The lassie has had a distressing day.”
Victoria tried to figure out which one of them she wanted to punch first.
Robert said something to MacDougal, and the Scotsman quit the scene, presumably to ready the carriage waiting around the corner.
“Robert,” Victoria said firmly. “I am going home.”
“A fine idea. I'll escort you.”
“Alone.”
“Much too dangerous for a woman by herself,” he said briskly, obviously trying to keep his temper in check under a facade of efficiency.
“I have managed admirably for the last few weeks, thank you very much.”
“Ah yes, the last few weeks,” he said, a muscle starting to twitch in his check. “Shall I tell you how I have spent the last few weeks?”
“I'm sure I can't prevent you from doing so.”
“I spent the last few weeks in a state of sheer terror. I had no clue as to your whereabouts—”
“I can assure you,” she said acerbically, “that I had no idea you were looking for me.”
“Why,” he bit out, “didn't you inform anyone of your plans?”
“And just whom was I supposed to tell? Lady Hollingwood? Oh, yes, we were the best of friends. You? You, who have shown such regard for my well-being?”
“What about your sister?”
“I did tell my sister. I penned her a note just last week.”
Robert thought back over the past month. He had gone to see Eleanor two weeks ago. She couldn't have heard from Victoria by then. He recognized that much of his temper was due to the fact that he'd been scared out of his mind for the past few weeks, and he tried to gentle his tone. “Victoria, would you please come with me? I'll take you to my home, where we might talk in private.”
She stamped on his foot. “Is this another one of your horrid, insulting offers? Oh, I'm sorry, would you prefer to call them proposals? Disgusting, degrading—”
“Victoria,” he drawled, “you're going to run out of adjectives very soon.”
“Oh!” she burst out, quite unable to think of anything better, then threw up her arms in exasperation. “I'm leaving.”
His hand closed around the collar of her cloak, and he reeled her back in. “I believe I told you,” he said coolly, “that you are not going anywhere without me.” He began to drag her around the corner to his carriage.
“Robert,” she hissed. “You are causing a scene.”
He cocked a brow. “Do I look as if I care?”
She tried a different tactic. “Robert, just what is it you want of me?”
“Why, to marry you. I thought I'd made that clear.”
“What you made clear,” she said furiously, “is that you want me to be your mistress.”
“That,” he said firmly, “was a mistake. Now I'm asking you to be my wife.”
“Very well. I refuse.”
“Refusal is not an option.”
She looked as if she might go for his throat at any moment. “Last time I checked, the Church of England did not perform marriages without the consent of both parties.”
“Torie,” he said harshly, “do you have any idea how worried I have been about you?”
“Not a bit,” she said with false brightness. “But I'm tired and really would like to be getting home.”
“You fell off the bloody face of the earth. My God, when Lady Hollingwood told me she'd dismissed you…”
“Yes, well, we all know whose fault that was,” she snapped. “But as it happens, I am now exceedingly happy with my new life, so I suppose I should thank you.”
He ignored her. “Victoria, I found out…” He stopped and cleared his throat. “I spoke to your sister.”
She went white.
“I didn't know your father had tied you up. I swear I didn't.”
Victoria swallowed and looked away, painfully aware of the tears pricking her eyes. “Don't make me think about that,” she said, hating the choked sound of her voice. “I don't want to think about it. I'm happy now. Please, let me have a bit of stability.”
“Victoria.” His voice was achingly soft. “I love you. I have always loved you.”
She shook her head furiously, still not trusting herself to look at his face.
“I love you,” he repeated. “I want to spend my life with you.”
“It's too late,” she whispered.
He whirled her around. “Don't say that! We are no better than animals if we cannot learn from our mistakes and move forward.”
She lifted her chin. “It isn't that. I don't want to marry you anymore.” And she didn't, she realized. Part of her would always love him, but she'd found an intoxicating independence since she'd moved to London. She was finally her own woman, and she was discovering that having control over her life was a heady feeling, indeed.