Page 69 of The Lord Next Door
“Yes, you’re a rational man” was all she said.
“I’m sorry that I don’t have time to ride this morning,” he said, standing up. “I’m going to calm Perry down. Have a pleasant day.”
Victoria watched David leave, feeling an aching sweetness toward him that had nothing to do with physical intimacy. She wanted to be his confidante; she wanted to unburden him of his painful secrets. He was trying to be such a good man.
And he needed friends among his political acquaintances—even friends among the ton, though he didn’t believe it now. The longer he held a grudge against the more mean-spirited people, the harder it would be on him.
David seemed to respect her wishes in every other way. Perhaps he felt he was sparing her ridicule. If she made it obvious she really wanted to go to this dinner party, he would escort her, wouldn’t he? If she accepted, he couldn’t refuse without making her look foolish.
She sent out a footman with her acceptance before she could change her mind.
~oOo~
That afternoon, Victoria took her next step in being the wife David needed. If he planned on having a future in the House of Lords someday, he had to be at ease with them, and put the past behind him. She would start by introducing herself to as many women as she could, in hopes that she’d begin a new reputation for the name of Banstead. She’d begin with the women who’d sent them wedding gifts. Even if those ladies were only being polite, perhaps they’d be open-minded as well.
That afternoon at precisely three o’clock, Victoria and Anna set off in the Banstead carriage with a footman clinging to the back. It took six stops before Wilfred the footman returned to inform her that the lady was at home.
The small, neat town house near Hyde Park was the home of Sir James Fogge, a member of Parliament. Victoria was shown up to a lovely gold and cream drawing room, which was occupied by two ladies, obviously mother and daughter.
The older woman came forward and curtsied. Victoria curtsied in return.
“Lady Thurlow, I am Lady Fogge. May I present my daughter Miss Fogge.”
More curtsying followed, and Victoria studied their pleasant, round faces with relief as they invited her to sit. Maybe this wouldn’t be so difficult. “Thank you so much for receiving me—and for sending a wedding gift.”
Lady Fogge waved a bejeweled hand. “Sir James speaks so highly of your husband, my lady. They sit on committee together. We were thrilled that Lord Thurlow found a suitable match. Having a lady at home always makes a man happier.”
Victoria smiled and imagined their reaction if they only knew the truth. As they discussed the weather, she noticed that Miss Fogge often glanced at a piano in the corner of the room.
In a moment’s silence, Victoria asked, “Do you play, Miss Fogge?”
The girl, not more than eighteen, gave a guilty start. “I do, Lady Thurlow.”
“So do I. I would love to hear you play sometime.”
Miss Fogge studied her, then after glancing guiltily at her mother, began to speak quickly. “Lady Thurlow, do you play at the piano in the Banstead drawing room?”
Victoria smiled at the girl. “I have. But I usually use the one in the music room. Are you familiar with the house, Miss Fogge?”
Lady Fogge frowned at her daughter and shook her head. “No, Lady Thurlow, we have never been to Banstead House. Please forgive my daughter for being so forward.”
“But, Mama,” Miss Fogge said plaintively, “that piano has such a titillating history! And I heard about the parties that used to be held there—”
“That is enough, my girl. We do not repeat unsubstantiated rumors.” Lady Fogge turned back to Victoria. “Have you been to the new dressmaker on Regent Street?”
The final few minutes passed uneventfully, with Lady Fogge always finding something new to say. She was obviously giving her daughter no chance to speak, and no chance for Victoria to ask questions.
When Victoria finally took her leave, she tried five more residences, and no one was at home to her. She refused to be disheartened. It would take time to overcome her former state as a businessman’s daughter. Victoria was a liability to David’s social position in the world of the ton, so she had to do everything possible to overcome that.
Chapter
Seventeen
Instead of thinking about how to tell David about the dinner invitation, the arrival of night made Victoria remember what had happened between them the last time they were alone together.
When he arrived, obviously nude beneath the robe, she was so flustered, she could barely think. His eyes lingered on her in a smoldering way, silently saying that he wanted to show her the next stage in their intimate journey.
His hands were sliding up her arms, then his fingers tugged at the dressing gown clasp at her throat. She felt hot and needy, and already her breasts tingled as she remembered what he’d done to them last night.
