“At half past seven in the—” As Northrup turned and marched into the house, a wide, understanding smile suddenly dawned across the coachman’s face. Nudging his companion in the ribs, the coachman sent him a sly, laughing look, and said, “Methinks Lady Fielding has decided brunettes are out o‘ fashion.” Then he sent the horses wheeling toward the stables so he could share the news with the grooms.

Northrup walked directly into the dining room, where O’Malley was whistling cheerfully under his breath and putting away the fragile porcelain place setting he had earlier laid out for Victoria’s solitary meal, when he first learned of the master’s sudden intention to visit London. “There has been a change, O’Malley,” Northrup said.

“Aye, Mr. Northrup,” the insolent footman cheerfully agreed, “there certainly has.”

“You may remove the covers from the table.”

“Aye, I already have.”

“However, Lord and Lady Fielding may wish to dine at a later hour.”

“Upstairs,” predicted O’Malley with a bald grin.

Northrup stiffened and then marched away. “Damned insolent Irishman!” he muttered furiously.

“Pompous stuffed shirt!” O’Malley replied to his back.

Chapter Twenty-seven

“Good morning, my lady,” Ruth said, beaming brightly.

Victoria rolled over in Jason’s huge bed, a dreamy smile in her eyes. “Good morning. What time is it?”

“Ten o’clock. Shall I bring you one of your dressing robes?” she asked, glancing around at the telltale tangle of discarded clothing and bedcovers on the floor.

Victoria’s face warmed, but she was too languid, too deliciously exhausted, to feel anything but mild embarrassment at being discovered in Jason’s bed with clothes strewn everywhere. He had made love to her twice more before they fell asleep, and again early this morning. “Don’t bother, Ruth,” she murmured. “I think I’d like to sleep a little longer.”

When Ruth left, Victoria rolled onto her stomach and snuggled deeper into the pillows, a soft smile on her lips. The ton thought Jason Fielding was cool, cynical, and unapproachable, she remembered with a secret smile. How stunned they would be if they only knew what a tender, passionate, stormy lover he was in bed. Or perhaps it wasn’t a secret after all, she thought, her smile wavering a little. She’d seen the covetous way married women often looked at Jason and, since they couldn’t possibly have wanted to marry him, they must have wanted him for a lover.

As she thought about that, she remembered how many times she’d heard his name linked with certain beautiful married ladies whose husbands were old and ugly. No doubt there had been many women in his life before her, for he had known exactly how to kiss her and where to touch her to make her body quicken with need.

Victoria pushed those lowering thoughts from her mind. It didn’t matter how many women had known the wild, pagan beauty of his lovemaking, because from now on, he was hers and hers alone. Her eyes were drifting closed when she finally noticed the flat black jeweler’s case resting on the table beside the bed. Without much interest, she pulled her hand from beneath the silk sheets and reached out, opening the catch. A magnificent emerald necklace lay inside, along with a note from Jason that read, “Thank you for an unforgettable night.”

A frown marred Victoria’s smooth forehead. She wished he hadn’t argued when she tried to tell him she loved him. She wished he’d told her he loved her, too. And she particularly wished he’d stop handing her jewels whenever she pleased him. This trinket, in particular, felt unpleasantly like a payment for services rendered. .. .

Victoria awoke with a start. It was nearly noon and Jason had told her his meeting this morning would be over by then. Eager to see him and bask in the warmth of his intimate smile, she dressed in a pretty lavender gown with soft full sleeves gathered into wide cuffs at the wrists. She fidgeted impatiently while Ruth fussed with her hair, brushing it until it glistened, then twisting it into thick curls bound with lavender satin ribbons.

As soon as she was finished, Victoria rushed down the hall, then forced herself to walk at a more decorous pace as she proceeded down the grand staircase. Northrup actually smiled at her when she inquired about Jason’s whereabouts, and when she passed O’Malley in the hall en route to Jason’s study, she could have sworn the Irish footman winked at her. She was still wondering about that when she knocked on Jason’s door and went in. “Good morning,” she said brightly. “I thought you might like to dine with me.”

Jason scarcely glanced in her direction. “I’m sorry, Victoria. I’m busy.”

Feeling rather like a bothersome child who had just been firmly, but politely, put in her place, Victoria said hesitantly, “Jason—why do you work so hard?”

“I enjoy working,” he said coolly.

Obviously he enjoyed it more than her company, Victoria realized, since he certainly didn’t need the money. “I’m sorry for interrupting you,” she said quietly. “I won’t do it again.”

As she left, Jason started to call to her that he had changed his mind, then checked the impulse and sat back down at his desk. He wanted to dine with her, but it wouldn’t be wise to spend too much time with her. He would let Victoria be a pleasant part of his life, but he would not let her become the center of it. That much power over him he would not give any woman.

Victoria laughed as little Billy wielded his mock saber in the field behind the orphanage and ordered one of the other orphans to “walk the plank.” With a black patch over his good eye, the sturdy youngster looked adorably piratical.

“Do you think that patch will do the trick?” the vicar asked, standing beside her.

“I’m not certain. My father was as surprised as everyone else when it worked so well on the little boy back home. When his eye straightened, Papa wondered if, instead of the eye itself being at fault in these cases, perhaps the problem might lie with the muscles of the eye that control its movement. If so, then by covering the good eye, the muscles of the bad eye might strengthen if they were forced into use.”

“My wife and I were wondering if you might honor us for supper tonight, after the children put on their puppet show. If I may say so, my lady, the children here at the orphanage are fortunate indeed to have such a generous and devoted patron as yourself. I daresay there isn’t an orphanage in England whose children possess better clothing or food than these children now do, thanks to your generosity.”