in Southwark that morning, she didn’t have to.
Then why did it bother him so damned much?
The five of them entered The Grove, making small talk until they reached their supper box. The concert would start shortly, but first dinner would be served, along with free-flowing wine and champagne. Fin thought he might drink an entire bottle himself. He hoped it would make things less awkward with Victoria, so when the bottles arrived, he claimed one and hid it on the floor beside his chair.
“What are you doing?”
He looked up to see Victoria staring at him, her brow crumpled with curiosity.
“Ah, nothing,” he said, casually placing the bottle back on the floor and bringing his glass to the table.
Her brows rose. Clearly, he wasn’t very good at covert operations.
“I suspect you’ll want to share that.” She held her glass out to him.
“Of course.” He was careful not to touch her hand as he took her glass, and just as careful when he handed it back.
Damn it, this was awkward. They had touched hands, brushed shoulders—they’d had plenty of physical contact over the years and it had never felt uncomfortable. They were like brother and sister, for God’s sake.
Only they weren’t actually, were they?
“I’ve never seen the Handel statue up close. Would you care to escort me there to have a look, Fin?”
That wasn’t true. The first time they visited Vauxhall, she spent nearly thirty minutes studying the statue. That was many years ago, when she was but a girl of sixteen, and he still saw her as a child, being twenty-four himself at the time. Somehow, though the years between them remained the same, the gap seemed far smaller.
But who was he to turn down an opportunity to clear the air between them?
“Well, you’re not leaving now, are you? The music is about to start.” Lady Grantham stared back at them with a shrewd look in her eye.
“I need to stretch my legs, Mother, or I’ll be too uncomfortable to enjoy the music.”
“Your brother will go with you, then.”
Victoria’s lips pressed together in a thin line. She was clearly perturbed. But she held her tongue, turned abruptly and then left the box. With a quick glance at one another, Fin and Tom both rose from their seats and followed her.
“What’s the matter with my sister?” Tom asked as they walked side by side, Victoria just a bit ahead of them.
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Fin replied. “I won’t lie to you, she’s been acting rather strangely. I had hoped she might confess the problem to me on this walk.”
“Lord Leyburn , what a pleasant surprise.” Satan’s daughter herself stepped in front of them on the path. She was turned out in black and crimson, her breasts thrust forth for all the world to see.
Fin rolled his eyes, but managed to suppress his groan. “Lady Beecham, we meet again.”
“Indeed.” She batted her eyelashes as she shifted her gaze to Tom. “Would you mind if I stole Mr. Barclay from you for a few moments.”
Fin was sure he’d never been so happy to see Lady Beecham. “By all means.” He stepped around her and left Tom to his own devices. It seemed his friend might not mind being left in the woman’s clutches, so Fin didn’t feel terribly guilty for abandoning him.
In a few long strides, he had caught up to Victoria, and he fell into step beside her, taking her elbow as he did. She looked up at him, her face more open and vulnerable than he had ever seen it.
“Victoria,” he said, his tone soft and beseeching, “will you please tell me what this is all about?”
She was quiet for a few moments, but when she spoke, her words sounded almost pained. “I cannot, Fin.”
She cannot? “Then why did you ask me to walk with you?”
“To tell you just that.” She glanced about, and then stopped just before the statue. “And you must stop trying to figure it out.”
“Like hell I will.” Fin was getting upset now. What the devil was this mad girl up to?
“Fin,
Then why did it bother him so damned much?
The five of them entered The Grove, making small talk until they reached their supper box. The concert would start shortly, but first dinner would be served, along with free-flowing wine and champagne. Fin thought he might drink an entire bottle himself. He hoped it would make things less awkward with Victoria, so when the bottles arrived, he claimed one and hid it on the floor beside his chair.
“What are you doing?”
He looked up to see Victoria staring at him, her brow crumpled with curiosity.
“Ah, nothing,” he said, casually placing the bottle back on the floor and bringing his glass to the table.
Her brows rose. Clearly, he wasn’t very good at covert operations.
“I suspect you’ll want to share that.” She held her glass out to him.
“Of course.” He was careful not to touch her hand as he took her glass, and just as careful when he handed it back.
Damn it, this was awkward. They had touched hands, brushed shoulders—they’d had plenty of physical contact over the years and it had never felt uncomfortable. They were like brother and sister, for God’s sake.
Only they weren’t actually, were they?
“I’ve never seen the Handel statue up close. Would you care to escort me there to have a look, Fin?”
That wasn’t true. The first time they visited Vauxhall, she spent nearly thirty minutes studying the statue. That was many years ago, when she was but a girl of sixteen, and he still saw her as a child, being twenty-four himself at the time. Somehow, though the years between them remained the same, the gap seemed far smaller.
But who was he to turn down an opportunity to clear the air between them?
“Well, you’re not leaving now, are you? The music is about to start.” Lady Grantham stared back at them with a shrewd look in her eye.
“I need to stretch my legs, Mother, or I’ll be too uncomfortable to enjoy the music.”
“Your brother will go with you, then.”
Victoria’s lips pressed together in a thin line. She was clearly perturbed. But she held her tongue, turned abruptly and then left the box. With a quick glance at one another, Fin and Tom both rose from their seats and followed her.
“What’s the matter with my sister?” Tom asked as they walked side by side, Victoria just a bit ahead of them.
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Fin replied. “I won’t lie to you, she’s been acting rather strangely. I had hoped she might confess the problem to me on this walk.”
“Lord Leyburn , what a pleasant surprise.” Satan’s daughter herself stepped in front of them on the path. She was turned out in black and crimson, her breasts thrust forth for all the world to see.
Fin rolled his eyes, but managed to suppress his groan. “Lady Beecham, we meet again.”
“Indeed.” She batted her eyelashes as she shifted her gaze to Tom. “Would you mind if I stole Mr. Barclay from you for a few moments.”
Fin was sure he’d never been so happy to see Lady Beecham. “By all means.” He stepped around her and left Tom to his own devices. It seemed his friend might not mind being left in the woman’s clutches, so Fin didn’t feel terribly guilty for abandoning him.
In a few long strides, he had caught up to Victoria, and he fell into step beside her, taking her elbow as he did. She looked up at him, her face more open and vulnerable than he had ever seen it.
“Victoria,” he said, his tone soft and beseeching, “will you please tell me what this is all about?”
She was quiet for a few moments, but when she spoke, her words sounded almost pained. “I cannot, Fin.”
She cannot? “Then why did you ask me to walk with you?”
“To tell you just that.” She glanced about, and then stopped just before the statue. “And you must stop trying to figure it out.”
“Like hell I will.” Fin was getting upset now. What the devil was this mad girl up to?
“Fin,
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