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hold tightening. “Will you have me? I have been waiting weeks to ask. Weeks. Long before the house party. Please say yes so I might speak to your father at once.”
    She stared wordlessly up at him. This was madness. They had only known each other a year and yet…she felt as if she’d always known him.
    Mrs. Lambert whisked into the entryway and came to an abrupt halt, causing her pinned gray hair to quiver. She gasped. “Lady Victoria. I demand you step away from Lord Remington at once.”
    Victoria defied the command by tightening her grasp on Remington’s large hand. It wasn’t every day a lady was asked to become a wife. But would he return? And if he did, would he still want her once he had seen what the world had to offer? She refused to taint this wondrous moment. As her mother had once said, “One cannot embark upon an adventure without stepping onto a path. And there is no greater adventure than love.” Love. Is that what this was? The sort of love her parents had once shared?
    Leaning toward Remington on the tips of her slippered toes, she whispered quickly, “Let our letters determine what will become of us before we tell my father anything more. Agreed?”
    “Agreed.” Remington bowed his head and rested his warm forehead against hers. “My stepsister is engaged to a British nobleman in Venice, which is why I am even—”
    “Lord Remington!” Mrs. Lambert’s slippered heels click, click, clicked against the marble floor as she marched toward them, closing the vast distance between them. “I am without words. Does my presence mean nothing to either of you?”
    “Forgive me, Mrs. Lambert.” Remington lifted his forehead from Victoria’s and ever so slowly slid his fingers from hers, as though he were trying to memorize every inch of her hand against his own. He stepped back and offered Victoria a quick bow, setting his hand against the brass buttons of his waistcoat. “I reluctantly depart.”
    She smiled. “I reluctantly allow you to depart.”
    He smiled, turned and strode away, his greatcoat shifting around his muddy boots and tall frame. When he reached the end of the vast corridor, he paused. Glancing back, he gave her a huge, saucy grin bursting with pride.
    Her heart squeezed as she held up a hand in parting, wishing he didn’t have to go to Venice.
    Ever so slowly he rounded the corner, his large hand playfully dragging against the length of the wall, as if he were forcing himself to leave. Then he, and his reluctant hand, disappeared.
    Victoria let out a breathy sigh and refrained from whirling about the entire corridor like a top.
    “Lady Victoria,” Mrs. Lambert chided, coming into full view. “I do believe your current reading is coming at an opportune time. I will expect you to have the entire book read within the week. I will also expect you to memorize and recite twenty different passages. Is that understood?”
    “Yes, Mrs. Lambert.”
    “You will now follow me.”
    “Yes, Mrs. Lambert.” Not caring if the woman noticed, Victoria lifted her hand and admired the mud-streaked ruby ring on her finger as she dutifully breezed back into the library. Was there a connection between Flint’s return and the ring? Not likely. But Remington was a fantastic magician of a different sort. The sort who made a wary soul such as hers give away not only a kiss, but her heart.
     

 

     
     

    SCANDAL TWO
     
    A lady should never engage in secret correspondences. For who is going to supervise all the words being scribed? Rest assured, much can and will go wrong, and much to a lady’s chagrin, there will even be documented proof. — How To Avoid a Scandal, Author Unknown
    September 15, 1824
    M Y DEAR Remington,
    Grayson is completely beside himself with grief now that you are gone, and has become rather annoying as a result of it. He is forever demanding I play chess with him whenever he visits, and claims I am the only one who can play as well as you. I never realized how close you