Free A Matter of Temptation by Lorraine Heath

battle was between him and his brother. They alone had to fight it.
    He realized with startling clarity that she was waiting for something from him, then it dawned on him what he needed to do. He tapped his glass against hers. “To your happiness, Victoria.”
    She smiled with such fondness that he wanted to charge out of the room, leave the charade behind, only he wasn’t the charade. His brother had been.
    He watched as she sipped the champagne, so delicately, her tongue darting out to capture thesparkling drops that lingered on her lips. He thought of gathering those drops himself, his lips pressed to hers, his tongue…
    Clearing his throat, he took a healthy swallow of his own champagne. He couldn’t afford to get lost in her beauty, her innocence, her femininity.
    “Now that we’re married, you’re not going to be formal with me, are you?” she asked.
    “Formal?”
    She laughed lightly and rolled her eyes. “Victoria?”
    Ah, dear Lord. His brother didn’t call her Victoria. What pet name would John have had for her?
    Victoria …Vickie? No, she didn’t look at all like a Vickie, however he thought a Vickie might look. Vic? Brown eyes? Sweetheart? My love? Beautiful?
    It could be any number of things. How could he work the question into a conversation without seeming like a dunce? He couldn’t, so he simply forced himself to smile. “Of course not, but I thought a toast to your happiness required a bit of formality.”
    Worry lines appeared between her brows. “You seem different today.”
    “As I explained earlier, it’s only the unfamiliarity with being a husband.”
    “Simply be yourself.”
    “I’m trying…desperately.”
    She smiled. “Don’t try so hard.”
    Aware of movement off to the side, he turned to watch as a young lady approached. He remembered her as one of the ladies who’d stood beside Victoria at the altar. He was more aware of a resemblance between them now and deduced that she must be a relation, a sister possibly. Another fact that he should know.
    She stopped before them and smiled a smile very similar to his wife’s. A sister. He was sure of it. But how many did she have? And did she have any brothers? Surely they would have approached by now.
    “Do I have to call Torie ‘Your Grace’ now, Your Grace?” she asked, a bit of mischief in her expression, as though she were daring him.
    But deciphering her game was of no interest to him. Rather a mystery had been solved.
    Torie? Victoria. His wife’s preferred name. It suited her, and he wondered why he hadn’t realized it sooner, hadn’t figured it out on his own.
    “A bit more informality exists among family members,” he assured her sister, finally returning his attention to her inquiry.
    “May I call you Robert, then?”
    “I think you’re being a bit too informal here, Diana,” Victoria—Torie—said.
    “Only if the duke thinks so.” Diana looked at him, challenging him.
    “What was John’s relationship with the sister; what would she expect of the duke standing before her now? “Perhaps when we return from ourwedding trip we can discuss informalities,” he offered, delaying the decision.
    “Oh, all right. I say, I do wish John had been able to come. I would so like to meet him. His stories fascinate me. Being captured by Indians, then becoming best friends with the tribal chief. Most younger brothers would be content with an allowance and laziness, but yours has made something of himself. He’s quite remarkable.”
    “Indeed he is,” Robert murmured. What fanciful tales John had woven to cover the truth of what he’d done.
    “Actually, Mama sent me over to see if you’re ready to change into your traveling clothes,” Diana said to Torie.
    Torie darted a glance at him before looking at her sister. “Yes, I’m most anxious to leave.”
    “That’s the beauty of a stand-up breakfast. Only one toast and you need not wait until all the courses have been served—since they’re served all at