“But now…Well, you know how ordered my life is. I am, as you like to say, the most organized man in Britain. I always have a plan, and I always follow it. It feels quite nice to do something spontaneous again.”
“You abducted me,” Victoria pointed out. “That was spontaneous.”
“Not at all,” he replied, waving away her comment. “I planned that quite carefully, I assure you.”
“Not carefully enough to feed us,” she responded just a touch acerbically.
“Ah, yes, the food,” he mused. “A small oversight.”
“It didn't seem small at the time,” she muttered.
“You didn't perish of hunger, did you?”
She swatted him playfully on the shoulder. “And you forgot the special license. When one considers the fact that the entire purpose of the abduction was to marry me, that constitutes a large gap in the plan, indeed.”
“I didn't forget to plan for the special license. I just forgot to bring it. I certainly meant to.”
Victoria peered out the window. Twilight hung in the air, as it would for several hours. They would not make it to London that evening, but they would get more than halfway there. “Actually,” she said, “I'm rather glad you forgot the license.”
“You want to put off the inevitable as long as possible, I gather?” he said. He was clearly teasing, but Victoria sensed that her answer was important to him.
“Not at all,” she replied. “Once I make a decision I like to carry it out immediately. It's just that it is nice to see you do something wrong every now and then.”
“Excuse me?”
She shrugged. “You're nearly perfect, you know.”
“Why doesn't that sound like a compliment? And more importantly, if I'm so damned perfect why has it taken me so long to convince you to marry me?”
“It's because you're perfect,” she said with a sly smile. “It can grow annoying. Why should I do anything if you're going to do it better?”
He grinned devilishly and pulled her against him. “I can think of many things that you do better.”
“Oh, really?” she murmured, trying not to get too aroused by the way his hand was stroking her hip.
“Mmm. You kiss better.” To prove his point, he let his lips drift down onto hers.
“You taught me.”
“You look much better without any clothes on.”
She blushed, but she was growing comfortable enough with him that she dared to say, “That is a matter of opinion.”
He pulled back with a loud sigh. “Very well. You sew better.”
She blinked. “You're right.”
“And you certainly know more about children,” he added. “When we are parents I shall constantly have to defer to your better judgment. I'm liable to launch into a lecture on Newton's three laws of motion before they're out of the cradle. Most inappropriate. You'll have to teach me all the nursery rhymes.”
Victoria's heart soared at his words. Her brief life as a seamstress had shown her the joy of being able to make important decisions for herself. More than anything she was afraid that marriage would mean she would lose all of this. But now Robert was telling her that he valued her judgment.
“And you have a bigger heart,” he said, touching her cheek. “I often get swept up in myself. You always notice the needs of others first. It's a rare and lovely gift.”
“Oh, Robert.” She leaned toward him, eager for the warmth of his arms. But before she reached him, the carriage hit a deep rut in the road, and she slipped.
“Oh!” she called out—in surprise.
“Aargh!” Robert grunted—in pain.
“Oh dear, oh dear,” Victoria said, her words rushed. “What is wrong?”
“Your elbow,” he gasped.
“What? Oh, I'm sorry—” The carriage jolted again, and her elbow slid deeper into his midsection. Or at least she thought it was his midsection.
“Please…move…it…NOW!”
Victoria scrambled and managed to disentangle her limbs from his. “I'm so sorry,” she repeated. Then she looked at him more closely. He was doubled over, and even in the dim light she could tell that his skin looked quite green. “Robert?” she asked in a hesitant voice, “are you going to be all right?”
“Not for several minutes.”
She watched him for a few seconds and then ventured, “Did I hit you in the stomach? I assure you it was an accident.”
He remained hunched over as he said, “It's a male sort of pain, Victoria.”
“Ohhhh,” she breathed. “I had no idea.”
“I wouldn't have expected you to,” he muttered.
Another minute went by, and then Victoria suddenly got a horrible thought. “This isn't permanent, is it?”
He shook his head. “Don't make me laugh. Please.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Stop saying you're sorry.”
“But I am.”
“Cold, hunger, and then mortal injury,” Robert said under his breath. “Was ever a man as plagued as I?”
Victoria didn't see any reason to reply. She kept her gaze scrupulously on the window, watching as Kent rolled by. There was no sound out of Robert for at least ten minutes, and then, just when she was certain he must have fallen asleep, she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Yes?” she said, turning around.
He was smiling. “I'm feeling better now.”
“Oh. Well, I'm so happy for you,” she replied, not really certain what type of comment passed for appropriate in this situation.