Everything and the Moon (The Lyndon Sisters #1)(64)

She sat on the bed for several minutes until her eyes fell on the package she'd so carelessly thrown aside several hours earlier. It seemed a lifetime had passed since then. What, she wondered with a shaky laugh, was Robert's idea of appropriate nightwear?

She untied the strings holding the box together and lifted the lid. Even in the dim light of her single candle, she could see that the lingerie was made of the finest silk. With careful fingers Victoria lifted the garment out of the box.

It was dark blue—a shade hovering somewhere between royal and midnight. Victoria didn't think it was an accident that the silk was the exact color of her eyes.

She sat down on the bed with a sigh. Her mind held a picture of Robert, examining a hundred nightgowns until he found one he deemed perfect. He did everything with such care and precision.

She wondered if he made love with the same quiet intensity.

“Stop!” she said aloud, as if that would rein in her wayward thoughts. She rose to her feet and crossed the room to the window. The moon was high, and the stars were twinkling in a manner that could only be called friendly. Suddenly, more than anything, Victoria wanted another woman to talk to. She wanted her friends at the dress shop, she wanted her sister, she even wanted Robert's aunt Brightbill and cousin Harriet.

Most of all, she wanted her mother, who had died so many years earlier. She stared up into the heavens and whispered, “Mama, are you listening?” then scolded herself for foolishly hoping that a star would shoot through the night. Still, there was something soothing about talking to the darkened sky.

“What should I do?” she said aloud. “I think I might love him. I think I might have always loved him. But I hate him, too.”

A star glinted sympathetically.

“Sometimes I think it would be so lovely to have someone to take care of me. To feel protected and loved. I went for so long without feeling that way. Without even a friend. But I also want to be able to make my own decisions, and Robert is taking that away from me. I don't think he means to. He just can't help it. And then I feel so weak and powerless. All the time I was a governess I was at the mercy of others. God, how I hated that.”

She paused to brush a tear from her cheek. “And then I wonder—do all these questions mean anything, or am I just afraid? Maybe I am nothing but a coward, too scared to take a chance.”

The wind whispered across her face, and Victoria took a deep breath of the clean, crisp air. “If I let him love me, will he break my heart again?”

The night sky made no response.

“If I let myself love him, can I still be my own person?”

This time a star twinkled, but Victoria wasn't sure how to interpret that gesture. She stood at the window for several minutes more, content to let the breeze caress her skin. Finally exhaustion claimed her and, fully clothed, she climbed into bed, not even realizing that she was still clutching the blue nightgown Robert had given her.





Ten feet away Robert stood at his own window, silently contemplating what he had overheard. The wind had carried Victoria's words to him, and, much as it went against his scientific nature, he couldn't help but believe that some benevolent spirit had pushed that wind along. His mother. Or maybe Victoria's. Or perhaps both, working together from the heavens to give their children another chance at happiness.

He had been so close to giving up hope, but then he'd been given a gift more precious than gold—a brief glimpse into Victoria's heart.

Robert raised his eyes to the sky and thanked the moon.





Chapter 16



T he next morning was almost surreal.

Victoria didn't wake up feeling particularly refreshed. She still felt drained, both emotionally and physically, and she was just as confused as ever about her feelings for Robert. After she had washed her face and smoothed out her clothing, she knocked softly on his door. There was no answer. She decided to enter anyway, but she did so with a certain degree of apprehension. She well remembered his fit of temper the night before. Nibbling on her lower lip, she pushed open the door.

Only to be frightened out of her wits by MacDougal, who was dozing comfortably on Robert's bed.

“Good Lord!” she managed to say after she let out a shriek of surprise. “What are you doing here? And where is Lord Macclesfield?”

MacDougal smiled at her in a friendly manner as he rose to his feet. “He's seeing to the horses.”

“Isn't that your job?”

The Scotsman nodded. “His lordship is rather particular about his horseflesh.”

“I know,” Victoria said, her mind traveling back seven years to when Robert had—unsuccessfully—tried to teach her to ride.

“Sometimes he likes to inspect the animals himself. Usually when he's thinking about something.”

Probably how to most effectively flog me, Victoria thought. There was a beat of silence, and then she said, “Is there any particular reason why you came up to his room?”

“He wanted me to escort you to breakfast.”

“Ah, yes,” she said with a slight tinge of bitterness. “Keep the prisoner guarded at all times.”

“Actually he mentioned something about your being accosted last night. He didn't want you to feel uncomfortable—a woman alone and all that.”

Victoria smiled tightly, duly chastened. “Shall we be off, then? I am famished.”