practice on. The resurrectionists may be illegal but they are filling a need."
"Excuse me,"Victoria whispered to her aunt as the conversation about the traffic in dead bodies
threatened to grab everyone's attention. I believe I will go on to bed."
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"Sleep well, my dear." Cleo patted her hand affectionately. "Remind me in the morning to show you the
wonderful collection of beetles Lady Woodbury brought by. Found them all on her last trip toSussex .
She's very kindly agreed to let us study them for a few days."
"I shall look forward to seeing them,"Victoria said, not without genuine enthusiasm. An interesting
collection of insects was almost as intriguing as a new exotic plant fromChina orAmerica . But now, I
really must be off to bed."
"Good night, dear. Mustn't exhaust yourself, you know. Perhaps you've been going it a bit strong lately.
Just as well you're in before dawn for once."
"Yes. Perhaps it is."Victoria let herself out of the darkened library, blinking a few times in the glare of the
brightly lit hall before she started up the red-carpeted stairs. As she reached the landing, her gathering
sense of excitement was almost overpowering.
"You may go,Nan ," she informed her young maid as she entered her airy, yellow, gold, and white
bedroom.
"But your lovely gown, ma'am. You'll need help getting it off."
Victoriasmiled in resignation, knowing she would only create questions where there were none if she
refused assistance. But she dismissed the abigail as soon as possible and then turned back to the depths
of her wardrobe. From beneath a pile of shawls she pulled a pair of men's breeches and from under a
stack of blankets she removed some boots. She found the jacket where she had stored it inside her large,
wooden chest and set to work.
Within a short whileVictoria was standing in front of her dressing glass examining her appearance with a
critical eye. She had been quietly gathering the masculine clothing for weeks, and this was the first time
she had tried on the entire outfit.
The breeches fit a bit too snugly, tending to outline the flare of her hips and the feminine shape of her
calves, but there was no help for it. With any luck the tails of her dark blue coat and the night itself would
hide the most obvious hints of femininity. At least her breasts, being rather on the small side, were easily
concealed beneath the finely pleated shirt and yellow waistcoat.
WhenVictoria set the beaver hat at a rakish angle on her short hair, she was pleased with the overall
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effect. She was certain that, at least at night, she could safely pass as a young dandy. After all, people
saw only what they expected to see.
Anticipation welled up deep inside her and she realized she wasn't as excited about the forthcoming
expedition to the fair as she was anxious about seeing Stonevale again.
It was true, as Annabella had said Stonevale must be a gentleman or Lady Atherton and Bertie
Lyndwood would not count him among their acquaintances. But a woman, especially an heiress, could
not depend upon any man's sense of gentlemanly honor. She had learned that lesson well from her
stepfather. Still,Victoria knew she would be safe enough tonight so long as she stayed in control of the
situation.
She relaxed, allowing herself a small, assured smile. She'd had a great deal of experience controlling
situations that involved men.Victoria crossed the deep blue carpet to the yellow velvet armchair near the
window and settled in it. In a little while it would be safe to leave the house.
Tonight there would be no time to worry about the creeping restlessness that frequently threatened her in
the long, dark hours of the night; no time to dwell on that sense of something dangerous left unfinished; no
time to fret about bizarre notions such as the