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

if they used rush lights. Actually, I've already smelled their tallow."
    "It doesn't matter how she's living," he sneered. "Mark doesn't have the pleasure of living anywhere, considering the fact that he's dead! I bet you she loves pretending that it's only place she can go. But with all that money she's got stashed away, she could do anything."
    "I don't see why it bothers you so much, Father."
    "We're talking about murder!"
    "It's not something your past is empty of."
    His face reddened, his white mustache becoming the only thing on his face that didn't appear to be pink. His eyes were as red as the rest of him. "Just do what you're supposed to, Alex! I won't be happy if you fail me."
    "But--"
    "Don't be a fool and fall for her charms!" It was obvious that he'd been drinking most of the morning away.
    "I've done nothing of the sort."
    "Are you sure about that?"
    "Yes! If I've desired her, it's only been physically."
    He tipped his glass and another few drams of port disappeared down his throat. "That kind of desire is preferable, of course. You can be sure that I don't want to see you becoming womanish on us again. It was terribly humiliating when you rejected Jane Winston's advances on our last trip to London. The bitch could have been a good pastime for you."
    "I have no wish to dally with those of such easy virtue."
    "Suit yourself." His father gave him another disgusted look. "I hope you realize that hungering after the Clavering girl can be just as dangerous if you're not careful. Jane would let you hump her without asking twice, but if you raped Victoria, the game would be over."
    The thought disgusted him. "I'm not going to do anything like that."
    "Perhaps it's time to discuss what we'll do if we find out, without a doubt, that she did it."
    "I'm going to handle it in a legal manner. I don't care what you or Michael says, we're not going to string her up on a gibbet and post her at a crossroads."
    He laughed. "You know that sort of thing isn't done any more."
    "When has that ever stopped you?"
    "Tell me, son, what gives you the impression that doing this by the book isn't exactly what I want?" He frowned at his empty glass and jumped into the hall to grab a maid. Literally.
    Even though his father was no longer listening to him, he shook his head and muttered, "Everything."
     

    * * *
     
    He hadn't been joking.
    Victoria watched Mr. Trevelyn step over the bramble-covered path, as usual not inquiring whether she desired his company. She wasn't a fool and his latest appearance confirmed her suspicion that he hadn't been making fun of her when he'd claimed his interest. Unfortunately, she still hadn't found the time to think things through. She was still bewildered by what had happened in the drawing room.
    "I hope I'm not intruding," he said. "I came by to suggest a picnic. I know of some lovely areas that you would enjoy very much."
    "I'm not sure that would be a good idea."
    He seemed at a loss for words. "You mean because I insulted your...virtue."
    "Insulted? It was more like an attack." She looked down at the patch of her uncle's garden that she was weeding. Admit it, Victoria, you had more than enough time to think about it. But you didn't.
    "I owe you an apology." The words didn't come smoothly from his mouth nor did they sound completely natural. "I don't know what came over me."
    "I wouldn't want something like that to happen again." Except that she did. Even then, in the middle of the jungle of a garden, she wanted him. She was letting him take the blame for what had been both of their faults. She was ashamed because she knew she wasn't about to tell him that.
    "I can give you my promise that nothing like that will happen if you go on this picnic with me."
    "Mr. Trevelyn--"
    "You don't trust me."
    "It's not that I don't trust you, I just--" I don't trust myself, she finished silently .
    He pulled at the ends of his knee-length coat. "Have I ever lied to you?"
    "No, but we've only just met." As soon as she