His Duchess (His and Hers 1)

His low-pitched voice rumbled on for some time and Victoria sank against the wall. Scandalous, unsuitable, incapable—he couldn’t think much less of her. The tiny hope she had embraced that she might someday gain his love disappeared into—

Her crushing thoughts were interrupted by Peyton’s voice. “A few days ago, you were certain she couldn’t even host a simple dinner party or a—”

Taviston must have cut Peyton off. Tears threatened to surface in her eyes, but she had had years of practice in suppressing them. Enough of this. Shoving away from the wall, she strode down the hall, turned left and then stopped. What was she to do? She had been prepared to suffer, living with the man she loved, but she had never imagined he thought so poorly of her.

“Victoria!” Peyton hailed her from behind.

Fie. Inhaling deeply, she faced him. “Good afternoon, Peyton. Could you direct me to my bedchamber? I seem to have lost my way.”

“Of course.” He offered her his arm then spoke again. “Victoria, did you marry Taviston just because he’s a duke?”

Her gaze snapped up to his face. The question itself surprised her, as did the grave tone in which her usually carefree brother-in-law had delivered it.

She said stiffly, unsure of the tenor of the conversation, “I married your brother for numerous reasons.”

“That isn’t a denial.”

Wrenching her hand away she increased her speed, despite having no idea where she was.

Peyton easily caught up to her. “I’m sorry if that was harsh. I only want to know the truth. I believe you have the potential to hurt my brother. I won’t stand by and watch that happen.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” she muttered.

“Of course it is. He has feelings.” His voice hardened considerably in defense of Taviston.

His vehemence drew a measure of admiration from her. Peyton clearly cared for his brother. Unfortunately, the irony of the entire matter stunned her. Here she was, with a heart shriveled by Taviston’s words and yet his brother warned her against hurting him.

She lashed out. “I’m sure I do not know what you are speaking of, Lord Peyton. What goes on between your brother and me is no concern of yours. I would thank you very much to stay out of our marriage. You may rest assured; I have no intention of wounding Taviston.”

Emotionally anyway. She did have an overpowering urge to slap both her new husband and his brother. Peyton’s face immediately softened at her chilly manner, but she turned and ran down the hall, ignoring the pleading call of her name.

With a sense of direction, she didn’t know she possessed she found her way back to her bedchamber. A new plan for her married life popped into her head, fully formed. She would quit London and go to Taviston Hall. Taviston could resume his old life, without worrying about her ruining his social status and she could suffer in private. Perhaps steel herself to one day live under the same roof as her husband, unwitting keeper of her heart. She knew she couldn’t stay away forever, but right now she deemed it necessary.

She resolved to pack up her things and leave as soon as possible.

TAVISTON SLIPPED HIS watch out of his waistcoat pocket as he headed for the privacy of his study. Half past noon. He had yet to see his new wife today but that didn’t concern him overly much. She had to be exhausted after yesterday—and last night. He couldn’t stop a smile. Married life suited him very well indeed. He had fought all morning to concentrate on the kidnapping instead of what he planned for tonight.

Victoria’s kidnapping troubled him. Someone, and it most certainly wasn’t Frank or Spade, had put much effort into taking her. The motive could not have been money. Otherwise, those two buffoons would not have contemplated abandoning her or killing her. Taviston shuddered at the idea.

Entering his study, he strode to his desk. Early that morning he had dispersed men to find out as much as they could about Frank, Spade, the carriage, anything. His coachman had validated Victoria’s theory. The man had arrived at No. 6 Somerset Street at precisely nine o’clock and been told by the Brownes’ butler that Victoria had just left. The coachman had assumed there had been some confusion regarding her transportation and had returned the carriage to the stables.

Now Taviston intended to wait in the quiet comfort of his study for reports from his investigators. He had already spent time today with his visiting relatives, most of whom he hadn’t seen since Christmas. Indeed, some of his relatives must have driven at breakneck speed in order to arrive in time for the wedding. Apparently, the family was much relieved to finally see him settled and they were downright giddy that he had made a “love match.” No one had been told the truth, which left him feeling uneasily guilty in their presence.

But everyone seemed to approve of Victoria. She had certainly impressed Taviston yesterday with her dignified behavior during the long hours after the wedding. He admired her all the more after learning of her ordeal. She had an inner strength that would carry her through many a difficult situation.

His thoughts drifted to the night before. The magnificence of his wife’s curves. Her soft velvety skin. Her glorious breasts. And—

A quiet knock sounded on the door. He glared at it. Would he never be able to daydream in peace?

“Come in.”

Halston led one of the investigators into the room and Taviston spent the next thirty minutes taking notes on all the man had to report. Finally left alone, he tried to focus his attention on the information he had just received, but his thoughts kept wandering back to his wife.

Earlier, Peyton had been uncharacteristically confrontational, asking Taviston how Victoria could possibly succeed their mother as Duchess of Taviston. But now that Taviston knew Victoria better, he had no doubt she would successfully step into her new role. She had all it would take.

Victoria was independent—they had met while she had been walking her cat, alone, at midnight. She was intelligent and eager to learn—their intellectual conversations proved that. She was courageous and inventive—as evidenced by the kidnapping and escape yesterday.

Taviston leaned on his desk, lost in deep thought. A shadowy musing slithered into his brain, but it disappeared before he could turn his thoughts from Victoria’s virtues. She was compassionate, witty, outspoken, loyal, without pretension.