Page 50 of Not the Duke's Virgin

“Indeed. So much has transpired, it’s difficult to believe it all occurred within a week.”

Madeline nodded, fiddling with the bed covers. She hesitated before speaking again. “Do you… do you think we’ll see him before we leave?”

Him. She could only be referring to one person—Oliver Reynolds. The horrid man who had ensnared Victoria in his deceitful ploy.

Victoria shook her head. “I cannot say. Though I dare hope we do not.”

Madeline looked worried. “What if he tries to stop us from leaving? Tries to insist you uphold your end of the… arrangement.” She said the last word delicately, clearly still upset over Victoria’s predicament.

“He cannot dare do that. His Grace would not let him.”

Victoria hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.

A knock interrupted them then, and a maid entered upon Victoria’s bidding. The young lady helped Victoria wash and dress for their departure.

As the maid fixed her hair, Victoria’s thoughts wandered to the events of the previous day. The chaos that ensued when Oliver publicly announced their betrothal. Her fabricated tale of courtship and romance. And the way Simon had stared her down with unveiled contempt.

She suppressed a shiver at the memory of his cold, dark gaze. He did not believe a word of her well-concocted story, for reasons she did not fully comprehend. He seemed determined to despise her, though he hardly knew the truth.

Once she was fully dressed and ready to go, she and Madeline headed downstairs to break their fast. As they entered the dining room, hushed voices caught Victoria’s attention. She recognized one as belonging to Simon’s friend and solicitor, Mr. Carter. He sounded quite flustered.

“This is most irregular, Your Grace! Most irregular, indeed!”

Simon’s calm reply followed. “I understand your concern, Carter. However, I assure you the matter is well in hand.”

“But, Sir, we cannot simply pretend nothing is amiss! The money, the duel, your brother’s disappearance… this does not bode well, I daresay.”

Victoria watched Simon unfold a napkin over his lap, entirely unruffled. “All will be sorted in due time. Come, let us discuss it no more this morning.”

Mr. Carter opened his mouth as if to argue, then thought better of it with a shake of his head. “Of course. My apologies, Your Grace.”

Victoria exchanged a puzzled glance with Madeline. It seemed Oliver’s absence had been discovered. Wherever could he have gone? Knowing what she did about his character, it was doubtful any explanation would reflect well on him.

Madeline appeared similarly concerned, but neither of them dared discuss it there in mixed company. They quietly took their seats and ate, ruminating over the worrisome news.

After Simon took his leave, Madeline leaned in with wide eyes. “Where do you suppose Lord Oliver has gone?” she whispered dramatically.

Victoria shook her head. “I’ve no idea. Though I cannot claim to be surprised.”

“Nor I. Lord Oliver has proven himself to be of questionable morals.” Madeline hesitated, looking troubled. “You don’t think he’s fled for good, do you?”

“If he has any sense at all, he will not return,” Victoria replied frankly.

Though in truth, she doubted Oliver had fully considered the consequences of his actions thus far.

Madeline bit her lip anxiously. Before she could respond, raised voices sounded from the hall outside the dining room. Victoria instantly recognized Mr. Carter’s strained tenor mingling with Simon’s deeper baritone.

“Your Grace, please, I must implore you to take this seriously!” Mr. Carter was saying in obvious agitation. “The solicitors in London have just sent an express. Your brother… he has somehow accessed the money. All of it!”

Victoria gasped softly. Madeline’s hand flew to her mouth. They stared at one another in dismay.

Simon’s voice was too low to make out his exact words, but his tone radiated calm control.

“I realize that,” Mr. Carter responded desperately, “But… but… this changes everything! Who knows where he has gone… he could be halfway across the Continent by now!”

“Carter,” Simon interjected, his voice sharpening. “As I already said, this changes nothing. Return to the study and see that all is ready for our departure.”

“Y-yes, Your Grace,” Mr. Carter acquiesced, though he still sounded ill at ease. “Right away, Sir.”

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