Page 47 of The Lord Next Door
She knew that he must be remembering his own mother. But all she could think about were the lies her parents had told, and the desperation it had led to.
“Every day I work diligently to keep my mother close to me,” she said.
He arched a brow. “And you’re suggesting I do the same? Believe me, there is nothing left to repair in the Banstead family.”
She didn’t believe it but saw no use in telling him that tonight.
They stood there awkwardly, the threshold a barrier between them. Victoria clutched her dressing gown to her throat against a draft, and she was reminded of what they’d been doing before the interruption. Her movement seemed to remind her husband, too, because his gaze dropped down her body. She stilled, and her anticipation slowly grew. A shudder swept through her, leaving her stunned. She felt weak with the need to be held in his strong arms.
“It’s been a long evening, Victoria,” he said, his voice unusually husky. “Sleep well.”
She watched him walk down the dark corridor and disappear inside his room. Shutting her door, she leaned against it in thought.
She found herself wondering what it would be like to be comforted by him. Sometimes he actually seemed sensitive. Would his strong arms around her make everything all right? But maybe only she could do that for herself.
She took out her private journal to record the day’s events, especially her frustration with her husband. And that eventually led to her problems with the earl. As always, writing calmed her, forced her to think and plan. She had to persuade the earl to tolerate her, and he would only do that by getting to know her. If he wouldn’t come out of his room, then she would just have to walk into the lion’s den.
~oOo~
In the morning, Victoria awoke early enough to hear her husband speaking with his valet in the next room. She was finally going to have breakfast with him. As she dressed, she tried to pay attention to when he left his room. Instead, she actually heard him bathing. That seemed far too personal, but of course, all she really heard was the splash of water.
He was probably using the same hip bath she used, and the thought made her feel warm. Her bare skin touched the same places his did. She should go to the far side of her room to ignore the sounds. But she remained frozen where she was, letting scandalous images of him play in her mind. She’d seen his throat—what did his naked chest look like?
She’d forgotten to inform Anna that she was awakening extra early, so she chose a gown that buttoned up the front allowing her to dress alone. It was a simple morning gown with tiny brown and yellow stripes, and she reminded herself that her husband liked looking at her. It was a good feeling.
She soon heard him walking briskly down the hall, then let him get to the stairs before she followed him. When she reached the dining room, he was already seated at the table, his newspaper held up before his face, a cup of coffee and biscuits on the table before him.
The footmen wished her a good morning, and her husband looked up with a sharp rattle of paper.
“Good morning, Lord Thurlow.” She set her notebook on the table, then took a plate to the sideboard to choose her breakfast.
“Good morning, Victoria.”
When she turned around, he was glancing at his paper again, but this time he’d lowered it so that she could see him.
“Don’t let me disturb your reading,” she said, sitting down to his right. “I imagine one needs to know what’s going on in the world when one is a member of Parliament.”
He nodded and sipped his coffee. “Do you read the paper, Victoria?”
“Not often enough. We had stopped receiving it, of course, after my father died. And before that, it seemed so…depressing.” She did not mention that education had not come easily to her.
“Young women do not discuss the news with each other?”
“No, my lord. From what I remember, it used to be gossip and fashion. My sisters were better at keeping up on that than I was. Although Meriel could converse with any man on the news of the day. Maybe I should read the paper, because that would be something you and I could talk about.”
“There are even papers devoted to the railway, if you’d be interested.” He smiled. “So do we need planned conversation topics? I could come up with a few, if you wish.”
Ah, she liked this relaxed side of him and hoped to see it more. It made his eyes sparkle like blue diamonds. She leaned her chin on her palm and regarded him. “Then what should we talk about?”
“Not the railway?”
She smiled. “Perhaps something different.”
“Did you know the Ojibwa Indians were coming from our Canadian colonies this summer? They’re going to demonstrate their archery skills in Regent’s Park.”
“Really? Maybe they’ll have a contest. That was one skill I almost excelled at.”
“Almost?”
