“Do you know how to cook?” Robert asked hopefully.
“I'm a wonder when I have food.”
“You'll have food.”
She didn't say another word as she left the room.
Robert remained in bed, shivering and feeling altogether sick. It hadn't been so bad when Victoria was there. She—and that devilish nightgown he was beginning to wish he hadn't purchased—took his mind off the fact that ten little icicles were attached to his feet and that he used to call them toes.
A few minutes later Victoria reappeared in his doorway, two steaming mugs in her hands. Robert's entire face lit up. “Broth?” he said. He couldn't remember a time when broth sounded so good.
Victoria smiled sweetly. A little too sweetly. “This is your lucky day, Robert.”
Robert sniffed the air, searching for an aroma. “Thank you, Victoria, for—” He stopped when she handed him a mug. “What is this?”
“Hot water.”
“You brought me hot water? Isn't one supposed to receive some sort of nourishment when one is ill?”
“You're not ill, just cold. And hot water is, by definition, hot. I'm sure it will warm you up.”
He sighed. “There wasn't any food, was there?”
“Not even a biscuit.”
He took a sip of the water, shuddering with delight as the heat traveled down his insides. Then, his mouth never leaving the rim of his mug, he looked up. “No tea?”
“Nary a leaf.”
He drank some more, then said, “I never thought I'd see the day when an English household would be out of tea.”
Victoria smiled. “Now do you feel warmer?”
He nodded and held out his empty mug. “I don't suppose there is more?”
She picked up his mug and stood, motioning to the window. Rain was still pelting the house furiously. “I don't think we're in any danger of running out of water. I have some heating on the stove and a bucket outside catching more.”
He looked up sharply. “Surely you don't intend to go outside in this weather. I want you to stay dry.”
She smiled and waved away his concern. “There is no need to worry about me. The overhang will keep me dry. Only my hand will get wet.” She started to leave.
“Victoria, wait!”
She turned around.
“Are you still cold? You have done nothing but take care of me. I don't want to see you catch a chill.”
“The water has helped. I—”
“Your hands are still shaking.” It sounded almost like an accusation.
“No, I'm fine. Really. It just takes a bit of time for me to warm through and through.”
He frowned, but before he could say anything more, she had darted from the room. She reappeared a few minutes later. The blanket around her shoulders slipped, and Robert tried to ignore the way the blue silk nightgown clung to her curves. It was the oddest thing he had ever encountered. His mind was racing with every sort of erotic fantasy, and his body refused to respond.
Robert cursed the cold with remarkable fluency.
As Victoria handed him his hot water, she asked, “Did you say something?”
“Nothing fit for your ears,” he muttered.
She raised her brows, but other than that did not question him further. They sat in companionable silence for several minutes, Victoria perched on the opposite side of the bed from Robert.
Suddenly she sat up straight with such abruptness that Robert nearly dropped his mug. “Where is MacDougal?” she asked, tightening the blanket around her.
“I sent him back to London.”
She relaxed visibly. “Oh. Good. I shouldn't like anyone to see me in this state.”
“Mmm, yes. Of course, if MacDougal were here we could send him out for food.”
Victoria's stomach growled loudly in response.
Robert shot her a sideways glance. “Hungry?”
“Oh, just a little,” she said, patently lying.
“Still angry with me?”
“Oh, just a little,” she said in the same tone.
He laughed. “I never intended to starve you, you know.”
“No, I'm sure ravishment was at the top of your agenda.”
“Marriage was my primary goal, as you well know.”
“Hmmph.”
“What is that supposed to mean? Surely you don't doubt my intentions.”
She sighed. “No, I don't doubt you. You have been most enthusiastic.”
There was a long silence. Robert watched her as she set her mug down on the bedside table and rubbed her hands together. “You're still cold, aren't you?” he asked.
She nodded, pulling her legs toward her body to conserve her heat.
“Get into the bed,” he said.
Her head swiveled slowly in his direction. “Surely you jest.”
“We will both be warmer if we pool the heat from our bodies.”
To his surprise, she laughed. “I had no idea you'd grown so creative, Robert.”
“I am not making this up. You know that I studied the sciences extensively at university. The dynamics of heat was one of my favorite subjects.”
“Robert, I refuse to compromise my—”
“Oh, come now, Torie, you couldn't possibly compromise yourself any further.” Wrong thing to say, he decided, once he saw the stricken expression on her face. “What I meant to say,” he continued, “is that if anyone learns you have spent the night here with me, they will assume the worst. It doesn't matter whether or not we behave with propriety. No one will care.”
“I will care.”
“Victoria, I am not going to seduce you. I couldn't even if I tried. My body is so damned cold—trust me, I'm not exactly in optimum working order.”