Page 2 of Not the Duke's Virgin

I trust this letter finds you well. I am very much looking forward to furthering the acquaintance we began at Lady Wentworth’s ball. The upcoming dinner will provide an excellent opportunity to solidify our new friendship. Do be on your most charming behavior for my family. I would hate for this happy occasion to become less pleasant due to any unfortunate misunderstandings between us.

Yours, Oliver Reynolds.

Victoria read it twice, a furrow slowly etching itself between her eyebrows. Beneath the solicitous language lay a thinly veiled threat. She ought to have expected such after their last unsettling conversation when he had seemed to take unseemly delight in her discomfiture. This letter smacked of the same mocking malice.

“Is something the matter?”

Victoria started. Her father had paused, letter opener in hand, watching her from across the table.

Hastily, Victoria folded the unpleasant missive and reached for her cold tea. “No, not at all,” she murmured before taking a bracing sip. The porcelain cup rattled ever so slightly against the saucer. “It is only a brief welcome from Lord Oliver.” She strove to keep her tone light, as though the letter had merely expressed anticipation of their visit. “He looks forward to our visit.”

“Hmm.” The Earl did not seem entirely convinced, but he returned to opening his correspondence.

Victoria bit the inside of her cheek, vexed with herself for reacting so transparently.

Whatever Lord Oliver was scheming, she could not refuse the family invitation without casting impertinent suspicion on the Duke and Dowager Duchess. Which had likely been Lord Oliver’s very aim. She would simply have to endure the visit, and his company, with as much poise as she could muster. And try to determine what fresh trouble the younger Reynolds brother was concocting before she found herself mired too deep in it.

The rest of breakfast passed uneventfully. Once the dishes had been cleared away, Victoria prepared to leave her father to his business and seek out her lady’s maid. She wished to pen a quick letter to Aurora before their modiste appointment.

Movement caught her eye as she reached the door, and glancing back, she saw her father unfurl a scroll with an intricate seal. His estate business frequently involved such documents.

With a rustle of her skirts, Victoria departed, weighing whether or not to mention the imminent visit to Hayward Manor in her letter. She disliked worrying Aurora needlessly during her convalescence.

CHAPTER1

Victoria sat rigidly in the carriage as it bumped and jostled its way down the long drive leading to Hayward Manor. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap to keep them from trembling. This was it. The moment she had been dreading for weeks.

“My, what a grand estate this is!” her father exclaimed as he peered out the window. “The Duke has done well for himself.”

Victoria glanced up at him, surprised by this sudden exclamation. Her father sat, with his newspaper forgotten on the bench, gazing out at the manicured lawns and gardens of the Duke’s sprawling country manor.

Madeline, her cousin, nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes, I’ve heard Hayward Manor is one of the finest in the county. We’re so fortunate to be invited!”

Victoria said nothing. She knew the real reason they were here. The false courtship she had been blackmailed into by the horrid Oliver. Just thinking about that manipulative snake made her blood boil. She glanced down at the ostentatious ruby ring on her finger, a prop for their charade. How she wished she could hurl it out the window.

The carriage rolled to a stop. A footman opened the door, and her father nearly leapt out in his excitement. Madeline followed, straightening her gown. Victoria took a deep breath. It was time to face the music.

Oliver awaited them at the entrance, wearing a charming grin that made Victoria’s skin crawl. “Welcome, welcome!” he cried jovially, clasping her father’s hand.

As predicted, the Earl became putty in his hands.

“Magnificent to see you again, Lord Oliver!” her father gushed. “I must say, your brother keeps an extraordinary estate.”

Oliver smiled. “Why, thank you. I shall give him your compliments.” His eyes flicked to Victoria. “Come, my darling. Let us go inside.”

Victoria forced herself to take his arm. She felt sick at his touch. Madeline shot her a sympathetic look as they entered the grand foyer.

“Brother!” Oliver called out. “Our guests have arrived.”

A tall figure emerged from a side parlor. Victoria’s breath caught in her throat. So, this was Simon Reynolds, the Duke of Hayward, Oliver’s older brother.

He was perhaps the most imposing man she had ever seen. Broad-shouldered and chiseled, with dark hair and piercing dark brown eyes. Everything about his demeanor oozed power and arrogance. When his dark stare fixed on her, she had to suppress a shudder.

“Welcome to Hayward Manor,” the Duke said coolly.

Her father practically tripped over himself greeting the Duke. Madeline dropped into a deep curtsey.

Victoria managed the briefest of curtsies, struggling to find her voice. “A pleasure to meet you, Your Grace,” she finally managed.

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