Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

T his was absolutely bloody marvelous. It took all his willpower not to smile. His avowed enemy was digging her own grave. Robert picked up his bread roll, broke it open and spread a generous helping of butter over the top. He sat chewing, waiting to see how Lady Victoria was going to try and salvage her evening.

"No, I am just not very hungry. The soup looked delicious," stammered Victoria.

Robert moved in for the kill. "I must say I thoroughly enjoyed my bowl of soup. I'm glad for the bread roll so I can sop up every last drop. As someone who does understand fine food and good manners, may I suggest that Lady Victoria has made a small misstep here. We shouldn't all follow her lead."

A perfect palate, my ass. She turns her nose up at the odd dish at a party and that makes her an expert? These people are nothing but sheep.

He turned the knife in slowly. "Tell me, do you prepare any dishes at home? I mean what with your cultured mouth, I would expect you know the ins and outs of your Papa's kitchen. Since all the best cooks in London know their way around a stove, I expect you give regular guidance to the chef at Mowbray House. Do you offer them little tips?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the other guests were taking a keen interest in the conversation. A duke's daughter wouldn't be allowed within ten feet of the kitchens. Women like Lady Victoria were raised to focus their minds on securing a respectable marriage and then breeding heirs. She wouldn't know one end of a wooden spoon from the other.

Victoria nervously cleared her throat. "No, I don't cook. But that doesn't mean I don't know food."

Robert held up a hand silencing her protest. "I am sorry, but I am going to have to disagree with you on that point, Lady Victoria. Too many folk think they know food. Take for instance the fool who keeps writing to the Morning Herald demanding they sack their restaurant reviewer. I happen to think the chap who writes for the column knows his eating establishments rather well."

To his utter delight, the other guests now weighed in. The support for the incumbent at the newspaper was overwhelming. Robert wasn't the least bit surprised. He knew the kind of people who read his column, and the people seated at this table were not the sort to actually venture out to any of the places he recommended. They read his column, so they had something to talk about when they were at a dinner party.

You might think that you sound clever by repeating some of the things I've written, but you haven't the foggiest clue when it comes to food and good taste.

He ventured a look in Lady Victoria's direction. Her hands were in her lap, but they were tightly fisted. Anger radiated from her.

That will teach you to come after me.

To her credit, she didn't quietly back down. Most other females would have sought to change the subject, but not Lady Victoria Kembal. She waded into the fight, fists swinging.

"I do happen to read the Morning Herald, and I think the reader who is calling for the reviewer to be replaced has some very valid points. From what I hear, one of the more recent reviews was of a restaurant that wasn't even open. How can you possibly defend that, Your Grace?"

Damn. She had him on that point. Robert was still scrambling for something clever to say when the second course appeared in front of him. It was glazed ham with an Espagnole sauce. Ham with brown gravy was a safe dish, but with thirty guests, he couldn't fault the logic.

He picked up his fork. "Well I don't know how the London culinary scene works, and I would suggest neither do you Lady Victoria, but this ham looks delicious. Shall we eat?"

Victoria excused herself from the table. It was either that or committing murder. The pompous ass of a duke was doing his best to keep her in her place. And the other guests were loving the sparring between them.

The second she closed the door of the ladies retiring room behind her, she headed for a sofa and dropped onto it, all the while muttering foul oaths under her breath. Not a minute later, her mother appeared in the doorway. The duchess closed and locked the door behind her. "What the devil are you playing at with the Duke of Saffron Walden?" she whispered.

The exchange between her and the duke hadn't gone unnoticed at the other end of the table.

"Nothing. We were just talking about food."

Lady Anne took a seat next to her. "From where I was sitting, it looked quite heated. Victoria darling, you won't secure a husband if you conduct yourself like that at parties. Men want quiet, agreeable wives. Or at least affable brides."

She shot her mother a look of disbelief. This was rich, coming from the woman who had turned martial disagreements into a blood sport.

"The Duke of Saffron Walden seems to think he knows more about food than I do. But the truth is the man is a crashing bore who doesn't know what he is talking about," huffed Victoria.

The duchess rested her hand on Victoria's and let out a slow breath. "Remember that you and I are working together, and your part includes you holding both your temper and your tongue at bay. Think what you like about his grace, but there are people here tonight whose opinions of your behavior will have a major bearing on your ability to find a husband." As she sucked in a tight breath, Victoria caught the tension which lined her mother's face. "And for my chances of making a successful return to society."

She'd let her pride get the better of her. Let him get the better of her.

I am a fool. I know how much tonight means to Mama.

"I'm sorry. You are right, I should hold back my words."

He had been baiting her, and she the na?ve miss had bitten at everything the duke had offered her. This was a war she was not going to be able to win. The rules of society dictated that a man like the Duke of Saffron Walden would always be the victor.

"Thank you. Now freshen up and go back to the table. Remember your place as a young unwed lady and mind your manners," replied Lady Anne.

She rose from the sofa, then bent and brushed a kiss on her daughter's cheek. "When you are a married matron of the ton , things will be different. I promise. You will have a husband to help fight your battles. Once you are wed, you will be allowed to have an opinion."

Robert noticed the change in Lady Victoria's disposition the moment she returned to the table. She was quiet and said little to any one for the next few courses. Someone must have had a word with her and pulled her into line. And while she was keeping her own counsel, he sensed she was still bristling with rage. It would only take a carefully placed word or two on his part and she would show her claws once more.

"What do you think of the salmon pie and potato pudding, Lady Victoria?" he ventured a little while later. She had barely touched the potato, and he had caught her muttering something about the lack of taste after she had eaten her second mouthful of the pie.

Robert's personal thoughts on the food this evening was that Mrs. Stevenson had gone with a safe, bland selection of dishes. Whomever was running the kitchen wasn't well acquainted with spices, or if they were, they had thought that salt and pepper was enough.

I have some fresh dill at home that would go nicely with this pie.

The nutmeg he had lifted from the East India Company last month would have paired well with the potato pudding. But he wasn't in the habit of trying to supply private residences with his ill-gotten goods. Servants tended to gossip, and he didn't want to raise the suspicions of the East India.

"The pie is pleasant, and the potatoes well cooked," she replied.

She really had retreated into her shell. He almost felt sorry for her. Almost. But then he reminded himself that this was the person who had embarked on a campaign to see him removed from the Morning Herald .

"Come. Come now. I would have thought that a person with your esteemed palate would have more than that to say about the food. You do the rest of us a disservice if that is all you are going to contribute, Lady Victoria."

He waved a hand in the direction of the other guests seated close by, who all nodded their agreement with his sentiments. Silence was not going to win her any points in this game.

She cast a glance in his direction, and he caught the expression of pain on her face. Good. That would teach her not to meddle in his affairs.

"The potato could do with some more spice, but that is only my humble opinion. Others may have found it suited their taste."

Robert's teeth grazed his bottom lip. This was getting him nowhere. He could spend the rest of the evening trying to get a rise out of her, but from the way she spoke it was clear Lady Victoria Kembal had retreated behind her walls.

And then a wicked thought struck him. He had read all her letters, including the ones which the newspaper hadn't printed.

"I personally would say that the delicate balance of cream and spice was handled particularly well. That the recipe isn't something that should be challenged at any time."

I think I quoted that pretty much word for word.

Her eyes grew wide at his words. When he met her gaze, he gifted her a sly knowing grin. A challenge. This fox owned the hen house. Any little chickens who thought themselves brave enough would soon learn the bloody truth of just who had the sharpest teeth.

Oh, I know who you are and what you wrote in those letters. If you want to take me on, I'm more than willing to see you leave this table in tears.

He'd read her letters. Had quoted verbatim what she had written in one of her latest missives to the Morning Herald . The newspaper hadn't printed that note, so the only way the Duke of Saffron Walden could have known about it was if…

Oh dear god.

The dirty rotten scoundrel had been toying with her all evening. Any wonder he wanted to sit next to her. Had been all smiles and charm with her parents. This had been some cunning plan on his part all along.A way to publicly humiliate her while knowing full well that she wouldn't be able to strike back.

Victoria pushed another piece of the salmon pie onto her fork and lifted it to her mouth. He had her right where he wanted. They both knew it.

Fighting back tears, she slowly chewed her food. Every morsel was ground down to nothing by the time she finally swallowed. When she looked up at him one last time, it was through a sheen of tears. She blinked them away but there was nothing she could do. Nothing she could say to him. He had won.

I will not make a scene. Not let him savor his victory in front of everyone else.

She was the picture of calm elegance as she turned to the guest on her other side and made a polite remark about the woman's gown. "I have been meaning to tell you how much I adore that color. I would love for the name of your modiste."

A snort of male disgust reached her ears, but she didn't so much as bat an eyelid as she gave her female companion her full attention for the rest of the evening.

But if the Duke of Saffron Walden, the secret reviewer for the Morning Herald , thought she would let this insult lie, he was sadly mistaken. She'd grown up in a family with three brothers, and if anyone knew how to bide their time and exact sweet revenge it was Lady Victoria Kembal.

He'd made a point of letting her know about their secret connection. And in doing so had shown he considered himself invincible. Now, all that remained was for her show him how badly he was mistaken.

Let this prideful duke enjoy this evening—his fall was soon to come.