Free Punish Me With Roses - a Victorian Historical Romance by Juliet Moore Page A

Mary's friendly demeanor.
    "As you've probably assumed, I'm Mary. This is my son, Jack."
    She held out her hand. "Victoria Fyn."
    "You must come inside for tea," she said, looking back at the cottage. "It's the least I can do."
    "Oh, that isn't necessary."
    She shook her head vigorously, strands of her brown hair slipped from her topknot as she replied, "Perhaps I phrased the invitation poorly. I would love to have the company."
    "Then I accept."
    "Wonderful!" Still holding Jack's hand, she led the way toward her humble dwelling. "It's nice to have a little adult conversation every once in a while."
    "Your husband, he's away a lot?"
    "I'm not married." She stopped walking then and looked down at her son. "I would understand if you'd like to postpone that conversation." Her soulful eyes revealed much more than her words could ever say.
    "Why would I? I'm here now." She smiled.
    Mary laughed. "How right you are! Then let's get inside and have some tea."
    Victoria followed, knowing that she'd made at least one friend in such a strange place.
     

    * * *
     
    The burning desire to see Victoria was undeniable, no matter how hard he tried.
    Alexander Trevelyn wasn't a man used to convincing himself of untruths, but he'd lately found himself doing it more and more. How many times had he told himself that he just wanted to get information out of Victoria and that he would do whatever it took to get it? He discovered what a falsehood that was yesterday afternoon. Alex wanted more than a confession from Victoria...a lot more.
    In fact, part of him wanted her to confess to some attraction to him more than confess to murder. But then, perhaps that made sense. His long-term plans were not without budding conflicts. He was truly starting to doubt that Victoria--his main and only suspect--had done anything.
    He was sitting on the coast, away from the shipyard and docks, but close enough to hear the sailor's excited clamor. As he sat there, he asked himself what he really knew about what had happened at Blackmoore. He knew that Victoria had motive and anger enough to do it, if Mark's letters were to be believed. He also knew that she'd left her home very soon after it had happened: a guilty action if he'd ever heard one. Then again, maybe she'd just wanted to get away from a house of misery. That would also be understandable.
    But an innocent woman wouldn't pretend to have never been there.
    She had to be quite skillful, if not truly inculpable. After all, she had him so that he forgot his plans every time he was near her. It would be acceptable if he was distracted by her potent sexuality, but he had to admit that it wasn't that. He'd just as soon hug her tense body as touch her glowing skin.
    He went back into the trees to retrieve his horse. So far it seemed that Alexander hadn't been doing anything right. All he needed then was for someone to reveal his scheme to Victoria. He'd started to think he should have left the entire business to Michael. His brother was extremely insensitive and a pretty face had never been enough to change his plans. Of course, he usually managed to get the girl along with accomplishing his goals. Alexander didn't like that idea in the least.
    He rode back quickly. When he arrived his father was waiting for him in the study. "Any progress with the girl?"
    "I'm taking things slowly."
    "A little too slowly for my taste."
    Alexander threw his hat onto the ottoman. "She's a smart woman. I won't get anywhere if she catches on to my motives."
    His father made a disgusted sound in the bottom of his throat. "Surely you can be secretive, but at a considerably faster pace." He shook his head, his mustache bobbing. "I can't believe she's been living it up at Fyn's place--not even touching the huge inheritance she got by killing Mark--and you only just thought to tell me about it."
    "I wouldn't say that she's living it up." Alex moved toward one of the tall, wax candles. "Have you seen the Fyn place? I wouldn't be surprised