Chapter Fifteen

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Chapter 15

All accomplishments have the one great merit of giving a lady something to do, something to preserve her from ennui, to console her in seclusion, to arouse her in grief; to compose her to occupation in joy. And none answers this purpose much better than fancy work, or even plain work.

~ The Habits of Good Society: A Handbook for Ladies and Gentlemen (The Last London Editor; 1860)

 

Very few people had been able to intimidate Victoria. Lord Henry Sinclair had always been one of them. The man simply exuded intimidation and was as large as a bear to boot. Broadly built, even at his advancing years, Henry could be quite an imposing figure which was why Vicky generally went out of her way to avoid confrontations with the man. His grandson took after him in that respect. They were both domineering bullies who could be monumentally frightening when either were furious.

This reasoning was partly behind the feeling of surprise wiped across her body as she stared, gape-mouthed, at the burly old man having a good guffaw at her retelling of the events that culminated in Mrs Littleford’s resignation. Vicky had braced herself for a verbal lashing of the worst sort, a severe reprimand and maybe even whole disownment, but not this.

His deep rumble reverberated through the entire study, ricocheting off the ceiling and walls. Vicky wondered whether she had ever heard him laugh before, but she couldn’t honestly recall. She was not used to the Sinclair men being so amiable towards her.

“She told you then?” Gabriel chuckled as he entered the study. “Bloody amusing.”

Vicky spun around and gave him a narrow-eyed glare. “Nobody invited you to this meeting,” she snapped.

The man threw her an infernally cocksure grin, dimples and all, before planting negligently in the high-backed chair next to where Vicky stood, crossing his long, well-defined legs at the ankles.

“I am sure my presence is not objected to,” he smiled lazily.

“You should laugh at this, Victoria,” Henry rumbled, wiping tears of mirth out the corners of his eyes. “It endears you to me and to everyone else who has ever done something completely out of character.”

His words only made her impossibly more miserable than she already was. It was not out of character for her to do those things, not at all. In fact, by doing those things she was actually in character. “I don’t find anything at all humorous in this predicament,” she mumbled grouchily at the both of them.

Being in the same room as both the Sinclair men was playing havoc on her emotions. The handsome man reclining indolently beside her incited ridiculous heights of passion and yearning at one moment and then horrendous vexations at his person the next, while his grandfather intimidated her beyond repair and held her precarious future in his fingertips. It was not healthy for her mental state to be in the same room as the two men. She started looking for an accessible escape route.

“Come now, Victoria,” Gabriel teased, “you’ve successfully ridded yourself on Mrs Littleford just by being you. Surely that is an accomplishment deserving of some good cheer.”

“You mock me, sir. It was not my intention that Mrs Littleford resign. In fact, I feel utterly wretched for it.”

“Well,” Henry said resolutely, “what’s done is done and you might as well take what you can from the situation. I will not be imposing anymore deportment lessons on you. It is quite evident that you have at least been trying to improve your behaviour. Both Delores and I have noted it.”

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