Meet Me at Midnight by Suzanne Enoch Page B

fluffed one of the lace sleeves she’d crushed. “You might have given us a bit more notice. Lucien nearly had to run his team to the ground to get us to London in time. Our coach won’t even arrive until tomorrow.”
    “If this were up to me, it wouldn’t be happening at all,” Victoria returned, plunking herself down on the edge of the bed.
    “My lady, your gown,” Jenny protested.
    “Excuse us for a few moments, won’t you, Jenny?” Alexandra asked, glancing from the maid to Victoria.
    The maid bobbed a curtsy. “Lady Victoria is to be at the Cathedral by eleven.”
    “And she will be.”
    As Jenny left the room, Alexandra took a seat beside her friend. She was wearing her “I told you so” look, and Victoria scowled. “I don’t need a lecture,Lex. At least no one had to lock me in a cellar to get me to cooperate.”
    Her friend chuckled. “Point taken. So what happened?”
    “Everything—nothing. Take your pick. I kissed the Marquis of Althorpe at the Franton soiree, and everyone saw, and my father decided I had to marry him.”
    “So why did you kiss him in such a public setting?”
    Victoria flopped backward on the bed. “I don’t know! He’s handsome, and—”
    “You’ve had handsome men begging at your feet since you turned twelve. You never kissed any of them at Lady Franton’s party.”
    “He kissed me first.”
    “Hmm.”
    “All right, I’m an idiot. That’s why I kissed him.” She beat her fist against the mattress. “I make trouble without meaning to. I always have.”
    “You leap before you think.”
    Victoria glowered at her friend, not feeling the least bit comforted. “Is this your way of telling me that I deserve this? Because I’ve had quite enough of that over the past week, thank you very much.”
    “Actually, I was going to say that in all the time I’ve known you, including when you attended Miss Grenville’s Academy, and after that when I tutored you, you led. You never followed, and you never did anything you didn’t want to.”
    “So you think I want to marry Althorpe? Lord Sin? Well, I don’t. He’s impossible. His reputation is worse than mine, and he does it on purpose. He wants to marry me—but only because it’s saved him from the inconvenience of actually looking for a bride.”
    “He told you that?” Alexandra eyed her skeptically.
    “Yes. In those words.”
    Slowly Alexandra stood. “Then he doesn’t deserve you, Vix. But it seems a bit late to stop anything.”
    “I’ve tried to stop it. I can’t, unless I’m willing to flee and become a fugitive actress or something.”
    “Well, I can’t see that.” Her expression rueful, Alexandra fluffed the skirts of Victoria’s gown again.
    “Neither can I.”
    “All I can tell you is that I would never have married Lucien on first meeting him. I fell in love with what lay underneath. If you feel compelled to go through with this, all I can advise is that you give yourself some time before you decide to dislike Lord Althorpe. He must have some intelligence, or he would never have survived five years in Europe with Bonaparte racketing about.”
    “He lived in a brothel for six months.” Victoria sighed. “I’ll marry him, Lex, because otherwise Father—and the rest of London—will think I care nothing for our family’s standing. But I won’t have anything further to do with Sin Grafton. Not unless he proves to be something more than what he appears.”
    Alexandra kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t give up hope, Victoria. You constantly surprise me; perhaps he’ll surprise you.”
    “I hope so.”
     
    “Are you insane?” John Bates hissed.
    “That’s possibility,” Sinclair admitted, and turned to view the set of his cravat in the dressing table mirror. “Splendid, Roman. You’ve outdone yourself.”
    “Aye,” the valet grunted. “Have to make you look pretty for the executioner.”
    “Sin, you can’t get married! What happened to avoiding all attachments