Chapter 15

The next evening, Thomas and Samuel sat together at the theatre. "There is the most beautiful woman in the world!" Samuel exclaimed with a longing sigh.

"Debatable," Thomas said.

In Thomas' opinion, the actress Loralie was not the most beautiful woman in the world. Clearly, that title ought to belong to Lady Victoria and no one else. As the men entered the theatre, Thomas thought about how she had felt against his fingertips—so wet and longing—and how she had looked with her head tossed back and her face red from the passion surging through her.

She had looked beautiful, like a force of nature. It had taken all his restraint not to suggest that they do something even more ruinous than his fingers pressing against her entrance.

As they went behind the stage, Loralie turned her head towards them. She seemed to draw herself up like a cat stretching after a long slumber. "Good evening, My Lords," she said, sinking into a curtsy.

The rest of the troupe were spread throughout the backstage, practicing reading scenes from the next production. A few curious members of the troupe glanced in his direction. They made no attempt to shield Lady Victoria from him this time. She sat at her desk, writing feverishly.

Thomas' lips twitched into a smile. Given the young lady's performance earlier, he understood the fervour with which she wrote. Suddenly, the writing stopped. Lady Victoria furrowed her brow and sighed.

"I will leave you two," Thomas said. "Lady Victoria looks as though she is in need of companionship."

Loralie narrowed her eyes like she knew something he did not, but the woman did not press the matter. Samuel only grinned shamelessly. "I shall try to find some way to occupy my time. Loralie, perhaps you could show me what the troupe is performing next?"

The two continued talking, probably about him and Lady Victoria, but Thomas did not care to pay attention to their conversation. He approached Lady Victoria, whose eyes met his before he even reached her. She smiled, the gesture genuine and lovely.

"Good evening," Thomas said, pausing by the vacant chair. "Might I join you?"

"Certainly," she replied.

Thomas seated himself near her and glanced at the pages. This time, Lady Victoria made no effort to hide them from him.

"How is your scene coming?"

"Adequately enough," Lady Victoria said. "That is not the difficult matter which I am trying to resolve."

"Oh?"

"Yes. This play is supposed to be about a battle of wits. A strong, independent lady who enjoys the pleasures of the flesh meets a rake who believes that she is like the other women he has conquered, but she is not."

Thomas slowly nodded. Once, he might have dismissed that plot as being trite, but after meeting Lady Victoria, he understood. There were special and unique women in the world, and they were certainly among the most desirable. He very consciously kept his eyes on Lady Victoria's face, not daring to let his gaze slip any lower lest his eyes linger in some inappropriate place.

He had only felt between her skirts and seen a tantalizing sliver of her thighs. If only he had seen her spread out and waiting for his hand! Thomas shivered from the thought and wondered how soon—if ever—Lady Victoria might be willing to grant him that liberty.

"So now, I am thinking," Lady Victoria continued. "How does this all end? In most plays, I am sure that the conclusion would involve the destruction of the young lady and perhaps also her rake."

"Indeed," Thomas mused. "The lady likely also repents in the end. She wishes to be absolved of her wickedness, but alas, it is too late for her to avoid her own destruction."

"Yes, and I do not like that," Lady Victoria said. "It seems to me as if that is a coward's plot. It is entirely too conventional. If I am to write something truly scandalous, it ought to be as salacious in its execution as it is in its thematic interests."

Thomas hummed. "Are you hoping that your heroine will receive a happy ending?" he asked. "That she will wed her rake, and all will be well."

"Something like that," Lady Victoria replied, "and therein lies the problem. I cannot have Lady Constance struggle with her desires throughout the entire play and have them easily resolved by the work's conclusion. Otherwise, the audience may feel dissatisfied with the ending."

"I see."

"That means I must craft a new conflict for this play, and I have no idea what that should be," Lady Victoria said. "This will require significant revisions in the earlier portions, as I cannot simply introduce a conflict without warning so late in the story."

"Agreed," Thomas mused. "Perhaps you ought to have a villain who wishes to keep your lady from romancing her rake."

Lady Victoria hummed and furrowed her brow. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I would not call my stepmother a villain," she said. "She is complicated and sometimes contradictory, but I truly believe that she means well."

Thomas could not quite decipher Lady Victoria's tone. For a lady whose face was always so expressive, she seemed suddenly as unreadable as stone. He considered telling Lady Victoria of his father's low opinion of her stepmother, but that seemed needlessly cruel. At a loss for what else to do, Thomas forced a smile. "If she works to separate the heroine and the hero, that makes her a villain. She need not do anything terribly malicious to earn the title."

"I suppose you are right," Lady Victoria mused. "I suppose that might be interesting, too. People who are familiar with the usual plots of dramatic works will be surprised by the unexpected change."

"Yes."

Lady Victoria paused and made a few notes on a page. Thomas watched, tilting his head to try and read. She wrote in a tight, delicate style. Lady Victoria turned her head and smiled at him. "Do not read it," she said, gathering the papers in her arms.

"Why not?" Thomas asked. "Was I not the inspiration for it?"

Lady Victoria wrinkled her nose. "You were, but I do not want anyone to read my play until I am finished with it."

"I see. Artists."

Lady Victoria smiled, and her eyes brightened. "Not yet."

Thomas nudged his foot against hers, watching her face for a reaction. Lady Victoria shifted in her seat. She straightened and folded her hands in her lap. "Would you want to do it again?" he asked quietly.

Her face reddened. "My Lord, you are brazen!"

"I find it difficult to believe that you have only realized that."

She shook her head, her lips curling into a small, sly smile. "I did realize it, but you somehow still manage to catch me unaware."

"I am glad. I would not want to think that I am becoming boring to you."

Lady Victoria shook her head and turned a little in her chair so her body was turned towards his. Thomas resisted the urge to reach out and stroke her knee, placed perilously close to his own. "You could never be boring to me," she said softly. "You are far too unpredictable and exciting for that."

"I do try."

Lady Victoria curled her delicate hands over the table. She did not wear gloves, and Thomas' eyes lingered on her slender fingers. "You succeed," she said. "Thank you for agreeing to help me. I was wondering something, though."

"Mm?"

"Why are you doing it?" she asked. "Are you hoping that I will become one of your conquests, one of the many women you have deflowered and abandoned?"

Thomas felt himself soften. Lady Victoria gazed at him with the strangest mixture of innocence and longing as if she wanted him but did not dare say that she did.

"Would you trust the word of a rake?" he asked quietly.

She bit her lip and looked askance. Lady Victoria considered the question in silence for a long moment before offering him a small shrug. "I do not know if I would trust the word of a rake, but I would be prepared to trust you," she said at last. "If you tell me that you do wish to deflower and abandon me, I would believe you. If you told me the opposite, I would believe that, too. I like to think, My Lord, that you care enough for me that you would not lie."

Thomas sighed quietly. Rakes did lie. He wanted to tell her that. She needed to be wary of rakes, and while Thomas had engaged in the odd dalliance, he was not quite a rake. Lady Victoria did not know that, however. Thomas crossed his arms and gazed into the lady's wide and searching eyes. "I fear that I am not as rakish as you believe me to be," he said quietly. "I do not know what your stepmother told you, but I can assure you that I do not make a habit of abandoning women. I would never abandon you unless you asked me to."

Lady Victoria inhaled sharply. "My Lord," she murmured.

Thomas only smiled. "I speak the truth. I promise."

"My stepmother disapproves of you," Lady Victoria said.

"All the more reason for her to be the villain of your piece."

Lady Victoria shook her head as if she disagreed, but she smiled, nonetheless. "Well. We shall see."

Thomas inclined his head in agreement. "Indeed."

"I should leave," Lady Victoria said. "It is late, and my stepmother will be returning soon."

"I should escort you home."

She shook her head. "There is no need, My Lord. I have often walked unaccompanied from the theatre at night."

"And upon my honour, you shall not again," he said. "The streets are not safe for a young lady."

He stood and offered his arm. Lady Victoria laughed. "And it is better for me to be unaccompanied than to be seen with a rake, is it? I am beginning to understand how the ton behaves, My Lord."

You should have known that already, he thought. Your stepmother failed you for not teaching you that.

He did not voice the thoughts, though. Instead, he winked and gave her his best rakish smile. "Better the devil you know, My Lady."