Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

T he Duchess of Mowbray had turned the hunt for her daughter's future husband into a full military campaign. Victoria was certain that if the British army had employed her mother, Lady Anne could have won the battle of Waterloo in half the time it had taken the Duke of Wellington to secure his triumph.

This morning's trip to the modiste was their third in as many weeks, and Victoria was beginning to wonder if she should just move in with the dressmaker in order to save herself the worry of traveling across town from Mowbray House.

I dread to think how much money this is all costing. So many clothes.

She wasn't sure if she could stand this shopping torture much longer. Lady Anne had never been one for doing things by half measure. Gideon and Serafina's bedroom had been commandeered for Victoria's new wardrobe. Boxes of slippers were stacked in neat piles. Hats. Ribbons. Pretty silk reticles. In the family safe sat every priceless earring and necklace set which the duke had retrieved from the custody vaults of the bank.

The price her parents were prepared to pay to successfully land Victoria a noble husband and restore their standing in London society bordered on the obscene.

Standing on the dais while the modiste fussed with the hem of her gown, the future bride-to-be studied herself in the mirror. Dark green did suit her complexion, but it also aged her. "Are you sure about this fabric, Mama? I mean I don't want to be lamb dressed as mutton," observed Victoria.

From what Victoria had gathered, part of the duchess's battle plans included making Victoria wear gowns designed for a woman who was a few years older than her actual age. She was not to be seen out in society dressed in the usual virginal whites and pale pastels that an unmarried woman of barely twenty-two would normally wear. Victoria's success would lay in projecting a ready for marriage look rather than an untouched innocent one.

Rising from her seat on the plush velvet sofa, the Duchess of Mowbray came to stand alongside her. "I think elegant sophistication is what this gown says. With one of my diamond chokers at your throat and your hair set with a silver tiara you will look nothing short of radiant."

The modiste finished pinning up the hem of the gown and got to her feet. She met Victoria's gaze in the mirror and offered her a gentle smile. "The formal season is many months away, and since you are already out in society, Lady Victoria, this gown is the perfect solution. It makes a statement. It says I am a confident young woman who is ready for my destiny as a nobleman's wife."

Lady Anne nodded her approval at these words.

How much did my mother pay you to say that?

She'd considered marriage as an inevitability. Few women of her social class escaped its clutches. But unlike her sister, Augusta, Victoria hadn't set her sights on any one particular male. Her sister's husband, the Earl of Bramshaw, was a rarity. A nobleman who could conduct a conversation with a lady that involved more than polite chitchat.

And Augusta has been in love with Flynn forever, whereas I've never felt the first stirring of my heart for anyone.

"Victoria dearest, would you please grant us the grace of your attention. This is your future we are trying to create," said the duchess.

She bit back the sharp retort which sat on the edge of her tongue. Her mother wasn't completely self-centered, but Victoria was no fool. It would make more of an impact on the matrons of the ton if the Duchess of Mowbray managed to marry off one of her eligible daughters out of season than if she had found a bride for one of her bachelor sons. Richard with his gambling habit, and Matthew with his…

"Ouch!"

A dressmaking pin pricked her skin. Victoria glared at her mother. "Did you just stab me?"

Lady Anne gave her a look of shocked outrage that was pure theatre. "I can't believe you would accuse me of such a thing. Why would I do that to my own daughter? You must have moved too close to my hand."

The hand that was holding a dressmaker's pin pointed directly at her. Victoria gritted her teeth. She understood the message. The modiste had ears and Victoria should pay close attention to what she said. "I do beg your pardon, Mama. Yes, it must have been my fault."

She was hungry and becoming more irritable by the second. Lady Anne had dragged her out of the house at first light and the morning had been spent going from one shop to another. An endless procession of assistants had eagerly helped the duchess to invest in the future success of her daughter's happiness.

I need food.

She'd barely gotten a cup of lukewarm coffee down her throat before Lady Anne had appeared in the breakfast room and announced they were going shopping. Her protests to at least be allowed to go visit the nearby German bakery had fallen on deaf ears.

"I am famished. Are we going home soon?" asked Victoria.

The tut of disgust from her mother told her what the duchess thought of her question. "Young ladies who are embarking on the marriage mart do not speak in such an uncouth way." She pinched Victoria's waist. "Besides, it might do you some good to adopt a smaller appetite for the next while. Think of yourself as a little bird."

Stepping down from the dais, she whined, "I am tired and hungry." Turning to the modiste she pleaded, "Could you please remove this gown?"

The dressmaker and the duchess exchanged a look, then Lady Anne painted a smile to her face and spoke. "Give us a moment."

As soon as the modiste had scurried away, heading to one of the dressing rooms, her mother rounded on Victoria. "I am doing this for you. Making sure that you are not still on the shelf come Christmas. I would appreciate a little gratitude."

Victoria sucked in a deep breath. She was not going to apologize to her mother for a second time. After slipping her arms out of the gown, she reached for the clasp at the back.

She had held her tongue since the duchess's return to England. Been relieved to see her mother alight from the coach the morning that Gideon, Serafina, and Augusta had arrived home. But anger over the scandal which had swept London during the Duchess of Mowbray's long absence had left deep scars.

"If you are going to dress me as a fully formed woman, then it's high time that you and I come to an agreement as to how this mother-daughter relationship is to continue."

Lady Anne's face was guarded when she answered, "What do you mean?"

Victoria finished unhooking the gown, then let it drop to the floor. The soft green silk let out a hush as it gathered in a pile. Stepping out of the dress, she turned to face her mother.

"You are using me to help smooth your way back into the upper echelons of the ton ." She held up a hand up to stop any protest. "As the wife of a duke, and a noblewoman in your own right, that makes perfect sense. But can we at least agree that this husband hunt is more for your benefit than mine. Which means I don't want to hear the continued fiction about you thinking purely of my happiness."

The duchess closed her eyes. "I had no idea you thought that way about things."

Oh god, have I gone a step too far?

Victoria let out a tired sigh. "I know why Augusta didn't invite you to her and Flynn's wedding when they were married in Rome. It's because you put yourself ahead of her. You lied."

"You don't know what any of this has been like for me. And as an unmarried young lady, I don't expect you possibly can," replied Lady Anne.

Her mother was right. She didn't know what any of this had been like for the duchess, nor did she have a solid grasp of the reasons as to why Lady Anne had thought to initiate a formal separation from the duke. But her sympathies could only go so far.

"No. No I can't. But then again, you don't have an appreciation for what those long months were like for those of us left here in London when you didn't return home. When poor Gideon had to go and sail all the way to Italy to bring you back."

The flood gates had been opened.

"The rumors. The spiteful things which were said to both me and Coco when it became apparent you were not coming back. And don't think for one minute that they haven't continued since we embarked on this search for a husband."

She hadn't been able to figure out which was the worst. The expressions of disgust and scorn, or the ones that were sad and full of pity.

"Now can we please go home before I say anything else?"

Lady Anne took a hold of Victoria's hand. Tears shone in her eyes. "I made a mistake. Augusta punished me for it by not inviting me to her wedding. I don't want that to be the case for you and me. Get dressed. We will go home. And when you are ready to talk, let's sit down and discuss what has been said to you."

There was a gentleness in her mother's voice, a genuine request for them to make amends, but as Victoria headed back into the dressing room, leaving her mother to finalize matters with the modiste, she was under no illusion as to one of the things the duchess would be keen to discuss. The names of the women who had treated her daughters with such open disdain.

The Duchess of Mowbray would be making certain that every one of those ladies was on the guest list for Victoria's wedding. And as her daughter walked down the aisle, Lady Anne would be watching as she rubbed Victoria's excellent match of a marriage in their faces.