Everything and the Moon (The Lyndon Sisters #1)(85)

Victoria's heart soared at his words. Her brief life as a seamstress had shown her the joy of being able to make important decisions for herself. More than anything she was afraid that marriage would mean she would lose all of this. But now Robert was telling her that he valued her judgment.

“And you have a bigger heart,” he said, touching her cheek. “I often get swept up in myself. You always notice the needs of others first. It's a rare and lovely gift.”

“Oh, Robert.” She leaned toward him, eager for the warmth of his arms. But before she reached him, the carriage hit a deep rut in the road, and she slipped.

“Oh!” she called out—in surprise.

“Aargh!” Robert grunted—in pain.

“Oh dear, oh dear,” Victoria said, her words rushed. “What is wrong?”

“Your elbow,” he gasped.

“What? Oh, I'm sorry—” The carriage jolted again, and her elbow slid deeper into his midsection. Or at least she thought it was his midsection.

“Please…move…it…NOW!”

Victoria scrambled and managed to disentangle her limbs from his. “I'm so sorry,” she repeated. Then she looked at him more closely. He was doubled over, and even in the dim light she could tell that his skin looked quite green. “Robert?” she asked in a hesitant voice, “are you going to be all right?”

“Not for several minutes.”

She watched him for a few seconds and then ventured, “Did I hit you in the stomach? I assure you it was an accident.”

He remained hunched over as he said, “It's a male sort of pain, Victoria.”

“Ohhhh,” she breathed. “I had no idea.”

“I wouldn't have expected you to,” he muttered.

Another minute went by, and then Victoria suddenly got a horrible thought. “This isn't permanent, is it?”

He shook his head. “Don't make me laugh. Please.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Stop saying you're sorry.”

“But I am.”

“Cold, hunger, and then mortal injury,” Robert said under his breath. “Was ever a man as plagued as I?”

Victoria didn't see any reason to reply. She kept her gaze scrupulously on the window, watching as Kent rolled by. There was no sound out of Robert for at least ten minutes, and then, just when she was certain he must have fallen asleep, she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Yes?” she said, turning around.

He was smiling. “I'm feeling better now.”

“Oh. Well, I'm so happy for you,” she replied, not really certain what type of comment passed for appropriate in this situation.

Robert leaned closer, a hungry look in his eyes. “No, I meant that I'm feeling much better.”

Victoria wished he'd stop speaking so cryptically. “Well, then, she said, “I'm very happy for you.”

“I'm not certain you understand,” he murmured.

Victoria wanted to say that she was certain she didn't understand, but before she could get a word out, Robert had yanked her legs onto the seat, and she was lying on her back. She gasped his name, but he silenced her with a kiss.

“I'm much improved,” he said against her mouth. “Very”—kiss—“very”—kiss—“ much improved.” He raised his head and gifted her with the slowest and most languorous of smiles. “Would you care for a demonstration?”





Chapter 21



H ere?” Victoria croaked. “In the carriage?”“Why not?”

“Because…Because…It's indecent!” She tried to pull herself away, then muttered, “It must be.” Robert lifted his head a fraction of an inch. His blue eyes twinkled mischievously. “Is it? I don't recall your father ever delivering a sermon on the topic.”

“Robert, I am certain that this is most irregular.”

“Of course it is,” he said, nuzzling the underside of her chin. She was soft and warm and still smelled like his sandalwood soap. “Normally I would not indulge here in the carriage, but I did want to set your mind at rest.”

“Oh, so this is for my benefit?”

“You were so concerned about possible permanent effects of my injury…”

“Oh, no,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “I am confident of your recovery, I assure you.”

“Ah, but I want to make certain you have no lingering doubts.” His hands wrapped around her ankles and began to slide up her legs, leaving twin trails of fire that burned right through her stockings.

“None, I assure you.”

“Shhh, just kiss me.” He nibbled at her lips, his hands sliding up and over the soft curve of her hips. Then he rounded them behind her, cupping her soft backside.

“I thought—” She cleared her throat. “I thought you didn't want to do this again until we were married.”

“That,” he said, moving to the corner of her mouth, “was when I still thought we could be married this evening. I have discovered that there is a time and a place for scruples.”

“And this isn't one of them?”

“Most definitely not.” He found the bare skin of her upper thighs and squeezed, eliciting a gasp of delight. He groaned, loving the sounds of her desire. Nothing had the power to inflame his passion quite so much as the sights and sounds of her pleasure. He felt her arching beneath him, and his hands moved to her back, where they furiously worked at her buttons. He needed her…God, he needed her now.