Everything and the Moon (The Lyndon Sisters #1)(89)

Robert sighed and looked over at Victoria. She tried very hard to keep the terror out of her eyes, and she feared that she must have succeeded, for he let out another sigh—this one infinitely more weary—and said, “Very well, Aunt Brightbill. We will make one appearance. But just one, mind you. We are still newly wed”.

“This is so romantic”, Harriet whispered, fanning herself with her hand.

Victoria grabbed her cup of chocolate and lifted it to her mouth in an attempt to hide the fact that she absolutely could not manage to pull her lips into a smile. But this action only served to show how badly her hands were shaking, so she set the cup back down and looked at her lap.

“Naturally”, Mrs. Brightbill said, “I shall have to take Victoria shopping for a new wardrobe. She will need the guidance of one who is familiar with the ways of society”.

“Mother!” Harriet interjected. “I am certain that Cousin Victoria will be more than able to choose her own wardrobe. After all, she worked for many weeks at Madame Lambert's the most exclusive dressmaker in London”.

“Euf!” Mrs. Brightbill said by way of reply. “Do not remind me. We shall have to do our best to hide that little episode”.

“I am not ashamed of my work”, Victoria said quietly. And she wasn't. Of course this didn't mean she wasn't terrified of Robert's social peers.

“And you shouldn't be,” Mrs. Brightbill said. “There is nothing wrong with a hard day's work. We just needn't speak of it”.

“I do not see how it would be possible to avoid it,” Victoria pointed out. “I assisted a great many ladies at the shop. Madame always liked to have me out in front because my accent is gentle. Someone is bound to recognize me”.

Mrs. Brightbill let out a long-suffering sigh. “Yes, it will be unavoidable. What am I to do? How to avoid a scandal?”

Robert, who was clearly feeling somewhat henpecked, turned back to his breakfast and ate a bite of his omelet. “I am certain you are up to the task, Aunt Brightbill”.

Harriet cleared her throat and said, “Surely everyone will understand once they realize what a romantic past Robert and Victoria have”. She sighed. “Young lovers, separated by a cruel father—even the best of my French novels cannot compare”.

“I do not intend to drag the marquess's name through the gutter”, Mrs. Brightbill said.

“Better his name than Victoria's,” Robert put in caustically. “He is more to blame for our separation than we are”.

“We are all equally to blame”, Victoria said firmly. “As is my own father”.

“It matters not who is to blame”, Mrs. Brightbill stated. “I am only interested in minimizing the damage. I do think that Harriet has the right idea of it”.

Harriet beamed.

“Just inform me where I have to be and when”, Robert said with a bored expression.

“You can be sure I shall also tell you what to say”, Mrs. Brightbill returned. “As for particulars, I believe that the Lindworthy bash tomorrow evening shall suit our purposes”.

“Tomorrow?” Victoria mouthed, her stomach suddenly feeling so fluttery that she couldn't manage to make her voice work properly.

“Yes,” Mrs. Brightbill replied. “Everyone will be there. Including my dear, dear, dear Basil.”

Victoria blinked. “Who is Basil?”

“My brother,” Harriet replied. “He's not often in London.”

“The more family the better,” Mrs. Brightbill said briskly. “Just in case Victoria is not received favorably and we have to close ranks.”

“No one would dare cut Victoria,” Robert growled. “Not unless they want to answer to me.”

Harriet gaped at her cousin's uncharacteristic ferocity. “Victoria,” she said, “I think he really does love you.”

“Of course I love her,” Robert snapped. “Do you think I would have gone to the trouble of abducting her if I didn't?”

Victoria felt something warming in her chest—something that felt suspiciously like love.

“And no one would want to cross my dear, dear, dear Basil, either,” Mrs. Brightbill added.

Victoria turned to her husband with a secret smile and whispered, “I'm afraid Basil is closer to her heart than you, darling. He gets three ‘dears,’ whereas you only received two.”

“A fact for which I thank my maker every day of my life,” Robert muttered.

Mrs. Brightbill's eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I don't know what you two are saying, but I vow I do not care. Unlike some of those present, I am able to keep my thoughts focused on the goals at hand.”

“What are you talking about?” Robert said.

“Shopping. Victoria will have to come with me this very morning if she is to have a proper gown for tomorrow evening. Madame is likely to have a fit at such short notice, but there is nothing to do about it.”

“Aunt Brightbill,” Robert said, eyeing her over his cup of coffee, “you might want to ask Victoria if she is free.”

Victoria stifled a smile at the way he stood up for her. Robert showed her in so many ways how much he loved her. From his passionate kisses to his unflagging support and respect, he couldn't have made his love more clear if he shouted it out. Which he did, actually. The thought made her grin.