Victoria grew suspicious.
He was waiting for her, as usual, at the end of the day. Victoria had long since given up arguing with him when he forced her to accept his escort. It required too much energy, and she hoped that eventually he'd give up and leave her alone.
Whenever she pondered that possibility, however, she felt an odd stab of loneliness in her heart. Like it or not, she'd grown accustomed to having Robert about. It would be quite odd once he was gone.
Victoria tightened her shawl around her shoulders for the twenty-minute walk home. It was late summer, but there was a chill in the air. When she stepped through the door and onto the street, however, she saw Robert's carriage parked outside.
“I thought we might drive home,” Robert explained.
Victoria raised a questioning brow.
He shrugged. “It looks as if it might rain.”
She looked up. The sky wasn't particularly overcast, but then again it wasn't particularly clear either. Victoria decided not to argue with him. She was feeling a bit tired; she'd spent the entire afternoon catering to an extremely demanding countess.
Victoria allowed Robert to help her up into the carriage, and she settled back against the plush squabs. She let out an audible sigh as her tired muscles relaxed.
“Busy day at the dress shop?” Robert inquired.
“Mmmm, yes. The Countess of Wolcott came in today. She was rather exacting.”
Robert raised his brows. “Sarah-Jane? Good God, you deserve a medal if you managed to keep yourself from clouting her over the head.”
“Do you know but I rather think I do,” Victoria said, allowing herself a little grin. “A vainer woman I have never met. And so rude. She called me a clodhead.”
“And what did you say?”
“I couldn't say anything, of course.” Victoria's smile turned sly. “Out loud.”
Robert chuckled. “What, then, did you say in your mind?”
“Oh, any number of things. I expounded upon the length of her nose and the size of her intellect.”
“Small?”
“Very small,” Victoria replied. “Her intellect, that is. Not her nose.”
“Long?”
“Very long.” She giggled. “I was quite tempted to shorten it for her.”
“I should have liked to have seen that.”
“I should have liked to have done it,” Victoria retorted. Then she laughed, feeling giddier than she had in a long time.
“Goodness,” Robert said wryly. “One might actually think you were enjoying yourself. Here. With me. Imagine that.”
Victoria clamped her mouth shut.
“I am enjoying myself,” he said. “It is good to hear you laugh. It has been a long time.”
Victoria was silent, not sure how to respond. To deny that she had been having fun would clearly have been a lie. And yet it was so difficult to admit—even to herself—that his company brought her joy. So she did the only thing she could think to do, and yawned. “Do you mind if I nod off for a minute or two?” she asked, thinking that sleep was a good way to ignore the situation.
“Not at all,” he replied. “I'll shut the curtains for you.”
Victoria let out a sleepy sigh and drifted off, never noticing the wide smile that had broken out on Robert's face.
It was the quiet that woke her. Victoria had always been convinced that London was the noisiest place on earth, but she didn't hear a sound save for the clop-clop of the horses' hooves.
She forced her eyelids open.
“Good morning, Victoria.”
She blinked. “Morning?”
Robert smiled. “Just an expression. You fell quite asleep.”
“For how long?”
“Oh, about half an hour or so. You must have been very tired.”
“Yes,” she said absently. “I was quite.” Then she blinked again. “Did you say half an hour? Shouldn't we be at my home now?”
He didn't say anything.
With an extremely ominous feeling in her heart, Victoria moved to the window and pulled back the curtain. Twilight hung in the air, but she could clearly see trees, and shrubs, and even a cow.
A cow?
She turned back to Robert, her eyes narrowing. “Where are we?”
He pretended to flick a piece of lint from his sleeve. “Well on our way to the coast, I imagine.”
“The coast?” Her voice rose to a near shriek.
“Yes.”
“Is that all you're going to say on the subject?” she ground out.
He smiled. “I suppose I could point out that I've abducted you, but I imagine you've already figured that out on your own.”
Victoria went for his throat.
Chapter 14
Victoria had never thought of herself as a particularly violent person—indeed, she didn't even have much of a temper—but Robert's oh-so-casual statement pushed her right over the edge.
Her body reacted without any direction whatsoever from her brain, and she launched herself at him, her hands clutching perilously close to his neck. “You fiend!” she screamed. “You godawful, bloody, blasted fiend!”
If Robert wanted to comment upon her less-than-ladylike language, he kept it to himself. Or perhaps his reticence had something to do with the way her fingers were pressing into his wind-pipe.
“How dare you?” she shrieked. “How dare you? All that time you were just pretending to listen to my talk of independence.”
“Victoria,” he gasped, trying to pry her fingers from his throat.
“Have you been plotting this all along?” When he didn't answer she began to shake him. “Have you?”