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  As her mother carried on, Victoria’s mind churned with all the tactics she would have to use to escape her brother. And Fin. Good heavens, how would she evade two of them? And why did they care so much about what she did? She was twenty-four years old, for goodness sake; she could take care of herself.

  Of course, she couldn’t tell her mother that she only maintained a social calendar in order to rob the richest and the rudest, so she simply smiled and nodded her head whenever her mother looked her way.

  “Well, that is all. You are excused. Oh, and I’ve had Lily set out your white gown for this evening.”

  White? “White, mother?”

  Lady Grantham didn’t look up from the menu she perused when she replied, “Yes, of course. It’s high time you started acting like a debutante instead of an old maid.”

  “I hardly think wearing yellow or green places me in the category of old maid—”

  Her mother turned sharp eyes on her. “I thought perhaps with age you would come to respect me better, but I see you only grow more defiant with each passing day. However, you still live here, in my house, and therefore you will follow my orders. Is that understood?”

  Victoria’s shoulders twitched with the effort of keeping her hands by her sides rather than wrapping them about her mother’s neck. It took her a moment to gain control of her voice, but at last she said, “Perfectly,” and then left the room.

  ***

  When a knock came at Victoria’s door later on that afternoon, she knew exactly who it was. “Come in, Thomas,” she called, and her brother poked his head around the door.

  “Is my knock so distinct?” he asked with a smile upon his face.

  Victoria went to him and wrapped her arms about his neck. Thomas lifted her off the ground in a tight squeeze before putting her feet back on the floor again.

  “Goodness, your skin is so dark!” She studied her brother closely. “You’ve practically baked yourself, Tom.”

  “It’s hard to avoid the sun in the Caribbean, Vic. It blares for more than twelve hours a day most days. And it’s hot—much hotter than our sun here in England.”

  “Well, that’s impossible, isn’t it?” Victoria asked, wondering how the same sun could be different just because it was in another part of the world.

  “Not at all.” Tom studied her for a moment and Victoria felt as if she were an animal on display at the menagerie. “You look well, little sister.”

  “As well as well can be,” she replied. “Living here without you has not been terribly easy.”

  “I’m sure Mother is thrilled you’re still unwed.”

  “Please!” Victoria held up a hand to her brother. “Do not start with that. It’s bad enough that Mother hounds me about it in her condescending ways—”

  “She only wants to see you settled.”

  “Settled!” Victoria knew better. Her mother couldn’t care less about her happiness, only about what connections her daughter might buy them with an advantageous marriage. “I supposed you’ve been charged with looking after me from now on?”

  Tom rolled his eyes and picked up the powder puff that sat on her vanity. He gave it a grimace and then replaced it in the powder. “It’s impossible to look after you, Vic.”

  “Thank you.”

  “That wasn’t necessarily a compliment.”

  “Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to take it as one anyhow.”

  Tom gave her a wide smile. “I’ve missed you, little sister.”

  This was a bit of a surprise to Victoria. Though they’d always gotten along, she and her brother had never been exceedingly close. But perhaps things were changing now that they were older, now that they’d been apart so long. Victoria was certainly beginning to truly understand the importance of family; maybe Tom was, too.

  “I went to see Fin earlier today,” he said, taking a seat on the edge of her bed.

  “You went to see Fin before you came to see me?”

  “Mother’s orders.”

  Victoria looked at him, stunned. “Please say you’re joking.”

  “You know Mother. She always wants to be the first to deliver good news.”

  They both shared a chuckle over this, for they knew it wasn’t at all true.

  “What did she say to you?” Tom wondered.

  “That we must make the most of your return.” Victoria gave him a mocking smile. “Since Lord Leyburn is unsuitable as a chaperone—being handsome and eligible himself—Mother is very much looking forward to you being my guardian again at social events. I daresay she’s given you my social calendar already.”

  Tom flopped backwards onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m glad my return was met with such . . . enthusiasm.”

  “Did you expect any differently?” Victoria took the opportunity, while her brother wasn’t looking, to tidy up anything that might pique his interest and cause him to ask questions she didn’t care to answer. She’d really have to be more diligent now that he was home again.

  “No, I suppose not,” he answered with a sigh. “But at least you are genuinely happy to see me. Aren’t you?”

  Her brother’s tone gave her pause. He had always been quite self-assured, but he didn’t seem that way now. He actually seemed rather sad that he’d not had a more enthusiastic reaction from Mother and Father. But really, what did he expect from them? They had always been cold and distant—no amount of time would change that.

  “Of course I am, Tom. Why would you think otherwise?”

  Tom sat up again and smiled at his sister. “Though it would be nice if Mother and Father would change for the better, I’m glad to see you haven’t changed a bit.”

  “And I promise I never will,” she replied, smiling back at her brother. “Now, get out. I have to prepare for this evening.

  Four

  Though Fin was no longer needed in Victoria’s life, he still couldn’t escape her. Now that Tom was back, he wanted to learn more about his travels to Jamaica, and of course, wherever Tom was, there Victoria would be. Lady Grantham would make sure of it. Of that, Fin was most certain.

  But nothing could have prepared him for the shock he received when Victoria arrived at the dinner party that evening. He stood in the far corner, nursing a brandy alone, when she walked in, clad head-to-toe in white. White! He hadn’t seen Vickie in white since her come-out years ago. He would have thought it was positively ridiculous, her wearing white, except that she looked . . . well, almost pretty.

  Oh, who was he trying to fool? She looked like a damned angel. Her chestnut hair was swept into a loose coif atop her head, and tendrils dangled about her face in a most ethereal and, dare he say, erotic manner.

  Damnit, what the devil was wrong with him? This was Victoria—Vickie!—she was practically his sister. It felt rather perverted to think of her in such a way, yet at the same time he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

  “What are you doing over here all alone, Finny?”

  Fin had turned away and taken a sip of his drink, so it came as quite a surprise to realize Vickie and Tom had made their way to his side already. He sputtered on his drink for a moment and Tom smacked him on the back.

  “Okay there, old man?” Tom teased.

  “You ought not to sneak up on a person like that,” he said, once he’d regained his ability to speak. “I nearly choked.”

  Victoria’s lips pressed together as she tried to hide her mirth.

  “Since you think it’s so funny, I’ll have to find a way to give you a taste of your own medicine one of these days.” His scolding had no effect on Victoria.

  “You may try,” she replied airily as she scanned the room.

  “What the devil are you wearing, by the way?” he said, changing the subject.

  Victoria turned her large, green eyes on him and cocked her head sideways. “What? You don’t like it?”

  “Do you?”

  “Not at all.” She let down her guard a bit and huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest. �
��But you know Mother . . .”

  He did. Which meant Victoria had been given no choice in the matter.

  “Well, Tom, how does it feel to be back in the fold?” He turned to his friend who now sipped lazily of his own brandy.

  “Damned freezing is how it feels. I never thought I’d long for the heat of Jamaica.”

  “Keep drinking and you’ll feel it soon,” Fin encouraged.

  “Perhaps you should go somewhere more temperate next time, Tom,” Vickie suggested. “Maybe I’ll go with you.”

  Both Fin and Tom erupted into laughter. Victoria punched her fists to her hips, clearly not amused. But really, the thought of her traipsing after her brother . . .

  Well, it would probably be the other way around, wouldn’t it? Victoria would certainly put her poor, lazy brother through his paces in a foreign country. It was a sight Fin would gladly pay good money to see.

  “Oh, good Lord, is there a good place to hide nearby?”

  Fin followed Tom’s line of vision until it landed on the last person he cared to see.

  “Why, Lady Beecham!” Victoria welcomed the woman with a wide smile. A smile she only reserved for people she truly despised. “How wonderful to see you. Is Lord Beecham here with you this evening?”

  “Oh, dear,” replied the woman in a dripping, melancholic tone, “I’m afraid my poor husband has taken ill.”

  “I do hope it’s nothing serious!” Victoria’s brow furrowed with feigned concern. Everyone knew Lady Beecham would be thrilled if her husband suddenly dropped dead. She’d maintain the name and finally be free to have affairs openly rather than in secret. As if her affairs were a secret to begin with.

  “We just can’t know yet, but thank you for thinking of us, dear Victoria. A treasure you are.”

  This time, both Tom and Fin choked on their brandy. Victoria shot them a warning look, but it was impossible to hide their mirth.

  It took only a moment for Lady Beecham to regain her faculties. “And I see your dear brother has returned at last. Tom, I do hope you’ll make time this week to tell me all about your travels.”

  Tom did his best to remain polite, though any bystander could see that meeting with Lady Beecham was the last thing he cared to do. “Of course, my lady. It would be my pleasure.”

  Finally she turned to Fin and, with a seductive bat of her eyelashes, said simply, “Lord Leyburn.”

  Fin’s mouth dropped open. Lady Beecham was trying to make him jealous. How very amusing. But of course, the joke would be on her.

  ***

  Dinner was a painstaking event for Victoria, who was not only dining in the home of her last victim, but who was also tragically seated next to the deplorable Lady Beecham. It was enough she’d had to speak with her before dinner, but now her appetite was completely ruined. The woman spent the entire meal trying to dredge up information about Tom and Finny—clearly she’d set them up as her next conquests.

  Victoria shivered with a bit of disgust. Though she knew the two of them were far from saints, she didn’t care to think about what went on behind their closed doors. And the last thing she wanted to do was facilitate a tête-à-tête between one of them and a potential lover. Even the word lover made Victoria a bit queasy.

  However, seeing as Lady Beecham was to be her next conquest, it was not actually ideal that they were spending so much time together this evening. What if she became more attuned to the cadence of Victoria’s voice and recognized it later on while she was being robbed?

  No, that would never happen. Victoria had worked too hard at disguising herself and her voice over the last two years. She was worrying for nothing.

  When dinner was finished, Victoria left her brother and Fin to join the ladies in the drawing room for tea and spice cake, though Victoria would refrain from the cake. If she had to get close to Lady Beecham during the robbery, the woman might recognize the smell of it on her breath.

  Victoria sighed. One day she would retire from her work and be able to enjoy her life without thinking of such intricate details. But for now, it was of utmost importance that she be vigilant, lest she find herself with a noose about her neck.

  ***

  The night droned on in boring detail. Fin wanted nothing more than to go home and enjoy his own brandy with his paints and canvas. The portrait of Victoria was coming along quite nicely, and he itched to finish it. Perhaps he would make her a birthday present of it, though he wasn’t so sure he would want to part with it. It was perhaps one of his best pieces to date.

  Either way, he wished to finish it. If only there were an opening to excuse himself from the party. As it was, their host, Lord Culver, kept on and on about having been robbed at gunpoint several evenings before on the Great North Road.

  Fin might have brushed it off as an odd occurrence, since highwaymen really were not de rigeur anymore, except that Lord Culver was not the first to experience such a thing in recent times. Fin had overheard many a story at his club of highway robberies, so clearly there were thieves out there, looking for a bit of coin to fill their own coffers. Though he wondered at the magistrate’s inability to bring any of these men to justice.

  As Lord Culver finally wrapped up his frightening tale, Fin stood from the table. “I do hope you will forgive me, Culver. I’ve an early start tomorrow.”

  “Careful on your way home, my good man,” the duke advised.

  Fin nodded and thanked the man for his hospitality before escaping the smoke-filled room. He’d never taken much interest in cigars, so sitting in a room filled with their smoke was not terribly enjoyable for him. He was halfway down the hall when Tom called after him.

  “Didn’t want to hear more about Lord Culver’s robbery?” Fin asked as his friend approached.

  “God, no. How much of it do you think is truth?”

  “Probably not nearly as much as he might wish. He does love playing the hero, does he not?”

  “Your carriage, milord.” The footman at the door stood aside to allow him onto the sidewalk.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Tom,” Fin called back. “And don’t forget to collect your sister before you leave!

  Five

  “Was that Fin?” Victoria asked as she slipped out of the drawing room into the foyer. “Leaving so soon?”

  “Yes, and so are we,” Tom told her as he accepted his hat and cane from the maid.

  “All right.” That suited Victoria just fine. Lady Beecham had left only minutes ago. Thankfully, the ride home would be quick, and then she would turn around and be on the road again in minutes. Plenty of time to catch up to Lady Beecham’s carriage.

  “Did you see Lady Beecham leave?” Tom asked once they were in motion.

  She wondered why he was asking after that woman, but he was a man after all. They didn’t often see much beyond a pretty face and a willing bed partner. There was that sick feeling again. She really had to stop thinking of her brother as having bed partners.

  “Only shortly before we did,” she replied. “Why do you ask?”

  “No reason.”

  Right. No reason at all.

  Gil pulled the carriage up in the drive and Victoria alighted with her brother. They entered the house and parted ways, headed for their own rooms. But as soon as the latch to his bedroom door clicked, she scurried along the hallway and down the back staircase. Gil was waiting in the alley behind their home, so she didn’t have far to go to climb aboard. And then they were off to find Lady Beecham’s carriage.

  It didn’t take long. Though the carriage bore no emblem, it was most certainly hers. Victoria was sure the woman had insisted her personal transportation be unmarked—that way she could enjoy her affairs with discretion.

  Victoria slipped out of her own unmarked carriage and stalked quietly to the conveyance holding her prey. Wouldn’t Lady Beecham be surprised this evening, to have her precious jewels taken from her? Well, maybe. She clearly had enough to wear a different necklace every day for a year. Victoria doubted she would really mis
s the ruby ensemble dangling from her neck and wrists tonight. But knowing Lady Beecham as she did, she would probably claim they were her favorites and lament them for years to come, just to have something to complain about.

  She waited until she was sure Gil had taken care of the coachman and then sidled up to Lady Beecham’s carriage. Only she was shocked to hear that the woman was not alone. A man’s voice reached her ears, muffled and impossible to make out.

  Blast! She hadn’t seen anyone else slip into the carriage. When had it happened? Well, it didn’t matter now. She was already here and she had a job to do. Victoria wasn’t about to let down the poor, ailing people at the hospital, so she would just have to handle both Lady Beecham and her mystery gentleman. No doubt it was some dandy who spent his time sitting in the window at Brooks’s. He would be no match for her.

  Now, if it were a man like Finny—a man who spent much of his time at the boxing club—she might have a bit more difficulty. Chances were the man was unarmed, though, and he’d be foolish to challenge a highwayman with a gun.

  Despite the fact she’d thoroughly talked herself into believing she had the upper hand, Victoria still hated to be taken off guard. Which was awfully ironic, considering her chosen profession.

  Stop dawdling, Vickie, and get on with it!

  Having chastised herself sufficiently, Victoria sprung into action, throwing open the door to the carriage. She pointed her gun at the man, who much to her surprise, sat opposite Lady Beecham. She still didn’t know who he was, as the darkness was thick tonight, with no moon to light her victims’ faces.

  Screwing up her courage and convincing herself that two was no harder than one, especially since one was a woman, she said, “Your money or your life.”

  Lady Beecham screamed and clutched her chest. At least, that’s what Victoria thought she did based on the way her rubies clicked together. Even if she had been willing to take her eyes off the man, she wouldn’t have been able to tell in the dark.