Page 40 of Not the Duke's Virgin

Simon caught Victoria’s eye as she moved to exit. “Might I have a quick word, Lady Victoria?” He gestured discreetly to a secluded alcove.

Victoria hesitated, nerves skittering, but allowed him to draw her into the privacy of the window nook. She waited mutely, no idea what to expect after the kiss they had recently shared.

But Simon simply searched her face with an inscrutable look. “You seem… more at ease today,” he observed quietly. “I am glad to see it.”

Before she could respond, he bowed gracefully over her hand and turned away.

Victoria stared after him, skin tingling from his light kiss. That was all? She had steeled herself against teasing remarks or untoward suggestions. But the Duke continued surprising her at every turn. Shaking her head, she went to join Madeline upstairs.

Following a cold luncheon, most of the guests desired a rest in their chambers. Victoria decided to take advantage of the deserted halls to write a letter to her dear sister, hoping news from home might lift Aurora’s spirits. Madeline settled on the settee with a book, content to rest indoors.

Seated at the writing desk in the corner, Victoria poured her heart out onto the parchment. She wrote of missing Aurora terribly, of longing for her soothing company and wise counsel during these trying days. She wished desperately she could unburden herself fully without fear of consequences. But she would never betray a confidence, even in a letter that was sure to be read by their father before reaching Aurora’s hands.

A timid knock interrupted her fervent scribbling. Expecting a maid, Victoria called, “Come in.”

When the door creaked open, she looked up in surprise to see Madeline hovering anxiously.

“Do not be cross, Cousin, but I simply had to come speak with you.” She closed the door behind her. “I have held my tongue as long as I can, but the tension in this house is stifling! Secrets that I feel I have the right to know are being kept.”

Victoria sighed, laying down her pen. She patted the ottoman near her feet. When Madeline was seated, she asked gently, “What is troubling you, dear?”

Madeline clasped her hands tightly in her lap. “It is clear you and His Grace share some history, some entanglement beyond your engagement to his horrid brother Lord Oliver.” She hesitated, then blurted out, “Victoria, are you in love with His Grace?”

Victoria reeled back, heartbeat thudding. “Goodness, whatever makes you say that?”

Madeline fixed her with an earnest look. “I see the way you look at one another, how he singled you out last night. Please, Cousin, if you have developed an attachment, you must tell me!”

Victoria stood up abruptly, moving to stare sightlessly out the window. How had intuitive Madeline read them so clearly? She wrung her hands, pulse racing. What could she say?

Madeline came up behind her and grasped her arm beseechingly. “I only wish to help. This web of secrecy cannot end well. If you have fallen in love with His Grace, we shall find a way!”

Victoria turned, eyes pooling with tears. “You have a generous heart, dear Madeline. I wish the world was kinder, that love alone could conquer all.” She caressed her cousin’s cheek. “For now, have faith that I will find my way through this maze, wherever the path may lead.”

Madeline still looked troubled but nodded slowly. “I do have faith in you, Victoria, more than anyone. I only hope you also have faith in your own heart.”

She squeezed Victoria’s hands and then took her leave.

Alone again, Victoria crumpled onto the settee, equal parts warmed and weighed down by Madeline’s devotion. But her wise cousin was right—secrets had a way of coming to light, one way or another. And Victoria could not deny her growing attachment to Simon. Whatever would come next, she must have the courage to follow her heart, though it might lead to ruin. With that daunting resolution, she picked her pen back up and continued her letter.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Victoria, Simon, and the other guests ventured into the nearby village as part of the day’s house party activities. The quaint shops and cottages with their thatched roofs made for a pleasant change of scenery.

They strolled down the dusty village road, having wandered away from the rest of their party. Victoria watched a flock of geese waddle across the path ahead, their feathers fluttering in the gentle breeze.

“Admit it, Your Grace, we are quite lost,” she teased, shooting him an arch look. “I don’t believe you know where we are going at all.”

Simon scoffed, his boots kicking up dirt as they walked. “Nonsense. I know this village like the back of my hand.”

“Oh? Then where is the village square?”

He gestured vaguely. “Just up ahead.”

“And the smithy?” Victoria persisted, lips twitching.

“To the left, naturally.”

“Truly? Because I do believe it is to the right.”

---