Page 72 of The Lord Next Door
“Yes, Henry?” he asked, realizing that the servant seemed different without his wig and livery. A person, instead of just someone to meet David’s needs.
More of Victoria’s influence.
“I was to bring ye this letter, my lord,” Henry said, holding up a folded piece of parchment spotted with rain.
“Who is it from? And why the urgency?”
“It’s from Your Ladyship’s mother, my lord. And she told me it was important.”
David nodded, even though his insides clenched. “Is something wrong with my wife?”
“No, my lord.”
David tried to relax. “Very well. Did she need a response?”
“No, my lord.”
“Then you may go. Have something hot to drink when you get home. It’s the devil of a night.”
Looking confused, Henry left. David broke the wax seal on the letter and spread it open beneath the desk lamp.
The letter seemed to wander as if Mrs. Shelby needed an explanation of her point. She wrote that her daughter was trying to be a good wife to him and had even gone on morning calls the other day. Out of eleven people, only Lady Fogge would see her.
David imagined sweet Victoria waiting outside house after house, trying to make friends with people who didn’t know how to be friends. Did she understand that the rejections were because of his family, and not her?
And then finally Mrs. Shelby explained the real reason that she’d written. Victoria had to do what she felt was best, so she’d gone to Dalton’s dinner party—without him.
David slowly crumpled the paper in his fist but felt no satisfaction. His wife had gone—alone? Didn’t she understand what might be said about her, showing up without her husband? Why was she letting herself be hurt like this?
It had started to rain, but he wouldn’t find a hack in this part of town at night. So he rode his horse and hoped his overcoat absorbed most of the rain.
When he arrived at Dalton’s, he handed his wet top hat and coat to the butler and managed to greet Mrs. Dalton with civility, even as she told him she was glad he was feeling better.
Feeling better? Victoria had told them he was ill?
He was shown to the drawing room, where various people acted surprised and pleased to see him. But he didn’t have time to exchange inanities; he had to find his wife.
He almost didn’t recognize her, though surely he’d watched her try on that gown last week. Back then he’d only noticed how attracted he was to her. But tonight he saw the confidence that had been blossoming within her.
It was the gown with the neckline Madame Dupuy had altered. Victoria filled it out so well that he was uncomfortable with other men staring at what was his. But he was proud, too. She looked…beautiful, her blond hair in ringlets about her ears, tiny diamonds glittering from the mass of her hair at the back of her head every time she moved. And she moved often, because she was freely laughing.
And it was Simon who was making her laugh. David felt a flare of jealousy that was positively…primitive.
Chapter
Eighteen
Lord Wade could always make Victoria laugh. He was the only person she’d known at the party, but he’d made her feel at ease, introducing her to several women who had shown her curiosity, but no disdain.
Lord Wade’s smile turned rather thoughtful.
“Well, look who’s here,” he murmured with satisfaction. “It’s about time.”
Victoria followed his gaze, and to her shock, David was walking toward them, rain speckling his face and evening coat. He was easily the tallest, most powerful-looking man there. And he was…hers. She felt foolishly satisfied by that. Did that mean she was falling in love with him?
For a moment, she thought he was angry. How had he discovered her plan?
And then that display of his emotion was just…gone, wiped off his face as if it had never been there. He nodded to Lord Wade, took her gloved hand, and brushed a kiss on the back of it. Lord Wade was showing the open curiosity she was feeling, but David didn’t respond to it.
