LITMIR.BIZ

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      Some two hours later, Victoria had seen to innumerable matters, including her approval of the distribution of extra funds to the orphanage she supported. She had also refused to increase the amount paid to the greedy blackguard who transported the coal from her mines to the railroad. She’d done some checking and found that the man already earned more than most of his counterparts. ‘Victoria had an innate sense of fairness that would not allow her to cheat others, but she was equally careful about not being swindled herself.

      When Mr. Fuller had gathered up his books and notes, she left the study and went to her own bedchamber to freshen up before luncheon. Victoria’s room was adorned in ivory and varying shades of rose. She and her mother had decorated the room together when she was sixteen. Even if it hadn’t been such a pleasant and peaceful decor, Victoria did not think she would ever be inclined to change it. Just waking up and seeing the deep rose hangings above the bed called to mind her mother’s delicate floral scent and the sound of her gentle voice as they had viewed bolt after bolt of fabric, until they found just the right shade to match the rosebud centers in the brocade upholstery on the chairs.

      Victoria sighed with unconscious longing. The wound of her parents’ passing was not so fresh as it had once been, yet she still missed their loving presence in her life.

      Enough, she told herself. There was no sense bemoaning her fate. It was fortunate that she had little time to dwell on her loneliness. Besides, she would soon have a husband to lessen the sadness, she reminded herself with determination, though the thought did little to soothe her.

      Going to the dressing table, “Victoria sat down and viewed herself in the gilt-edged mirror. For the first time since she was a young girl, she found herself wondering how she would appear to a man.

      There was certainly no hint of fashionable beauty in her regular features. She lacked the pursed lips, blue eyes and sweetly rounded face that found such favor in the eyes of those who decided such things.

      Her own gray eyes, though pleasant enough and thickly lashed, were too direct, her mouth was too full, her cheekbones were too high. No, she thought, shaking her head regretfully, there was not a hint of great beauty in her. Then her full mouth thinned in irony as she acknowledged that this lack did not mean she was completely undesirable. The vast fortune and social position she had been left were attractive enough for many to seek her out.

      Since her very earliest realizations that she would someday marry, Victoria had wished to be treated as a woman first and the daughter of a duke second. No man besides Jedidiah McBride had ever done that. For that was exactly what he had done by coming to her aid with no notion of who she was or what she stood for.

      Her hand drifted of its own accord to smooth the soft dark curls at her temples. What would Jedidiah have done if he had not found out that she was a noblewoman, one of the breed he so clearly disdained?

      For a brief moment last night in the carriage, when he looked at her, she’d thought… But no. Not since discovering who she was had he given any hint that he might be attracted to her.

      She frowned at her reflection, her fingers tracing the lace collar that edged the neckline of her yellow gown. Even though the hooped confection was of the very latest design, with its wide lace-trimmed sleeves and multitiered skirt, it certainly was not her best color.

      Surely she had something more… But she resisted the urge to summon Betty to her chamber. The maid would wonder what was amiss if her mistress changed for the midday meal. She never did so.

      She stood abruptly, knowing there was no time for such frivolity, and absolutely no need for it. There was no reason to worry about her appearance simply because a man happened to be in residence, even if he was undeniably handsome and made her heart turn over when he smiled at her. Victoria already was overdue in meeting with the head cook to go over the next week’s menus. By the time she was finished with that, the luncheon would be ready to serve.

      It would not be polite to keep either the servants or Mr. Jedidiah McBride waiting. She felt a strange fluttering in her belly at the thought of seeing him again. Her immediate attempts to still the sensation were not as successful as she would have wished.

      

      ‘Victoria was just giving the cook one final suggestion for a change in menu when there was a knock on the drawing room door. She called out, “Enter,” then turned to finish what she had been saying as one of the footmen came into the room. “Beef on Tuesday, I think, Mrs. Everard, rather than the usual chicken.” Something about Jedidiah McBride told her he was a man who preferred beef to chicken.

      The cook looked at her mistress in obvious surprise. “Beef on Tuesday, my lady?”

      Victoria was aware that they had been eating chicken on Tuesdays for as long as she could recall. “As I’m sure you are aware, my cousin from America is visiting us. I wish to make him comfortable and content while he is here. His visit comes as a welcome surprise to me. Who would have thought that Great-uncle Lionel’s grandson would make an appearance here in England. For years no one had any clue as to what had become of the family adventurer.”

      Mrs. Everard smiled at her mistress with the proper mixture of fondness and deference. “It is a true wonder, and very good to see that you have family again.” The cook lowered her blue eyes and nodded her gray head. “I will see that there is a nice roast laid on that day.”

      Victoria nodded in return, glad to have the housekeeper accept her explanation for Jedidiah McBride’s presence so readily. She could only hope it would go so well once they began to introduce him to society. “Thank you, Mrs. Everard. You are, as ever, most accommodating. Also, I wish to inform you that there will be no need to prepare a menu list for the next week. We will be going to the London house to attend some of the events of the season.”

      The head cook curtsied and turned to go with a selfsatisfied smile at the compliment. Victoria halted her. “One last thing, Mrs. Everard.”

      The robust woman swung back to face her. “Yes, my lady.”

      “Coffee.”

      “Yes, my lady?”

      “My cousin prefers coffee to tea. I would appreciate your seeing that he has some of that beverage each morning.”

      Another curtsy. “As you wish, my lady.” She left the room.

      Victoria then turned to the footman. “Yes, Charles?”

      “I have been sent to inform you that Miss Mary has arrived.”

      Victoria made a soft noise of surprise even as she stood and hurried across the room to the door, which the footman opened for her. She had forgotten having asked Mary to lunch with her. Which, she told herself, was not completely irresponsible of her, considering the events of the past twelve hours.

      Should she tell Mary the sea captain’s true identity? Not since they’d become friends as children had Victoria kept any secret from her.

      Hurrying across the foyer to where her best and only true friend awaited her, Victoria held out her hands. “Mary, how good it is to see you. How is your father?” She studied her friend with true concern. There were faint shadows beneath her golden-brown eyes, and Mary sighed as she removed her straw bonnet and ran a hand over her goldstreaked brown hair. The hat was prettily decorated with dried flowers from her garden, and was simple in design, as Mary preferred things to be. She wore no hoop beneath her dark blue skirts, having told Victoria that she had no use for such conceits when the device made its appearance the previous year. She felt it did not offer her enough freedom in her walks across the moors, but there was little of the accustomed energy in Mary’s movements as she turned back to her friend.

      Victoria knew that the reverend’s illness was beginning to take its toll on his daughter, though she would never complain. Mary’s unstinting devotion to the sick man was one of the very reasons she insisted on having her friend to luncheon on a regular basis. Knowing how important this weekly outing was to Mary’s well-being made Victoria flush with shame at having forgotten it.

      Victoria tried

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