June 3, night
Victoria speaks:
I met the man I am going to marry. Mother says I am too much of a romantic, but I do not agree. I am simply realistic and know what I want. There certainly should not be anything wrong with that. Jonathan Hook. I cannot hold back a sigh of ecstasy as I close my eyes and imagine the deep blue gaze that captured me with such intensity. Zachary brought him to our home for tea yesterday, and as soon as he took my hand, I knew. Does he feel the same? I cannot be sure. Oh, I never seem to have the "feeling" like some girls... My best friend, Elizabeth, says she can sense these kinds of things immediately. She says my problem is my mother does not invite enough young men to tea, so I do not have the experience necessary to cultivate the "feeling."
Zachary and Mother did most of the talking, while Jonathan and I kept catching each other's eye and smiling. Mother shot me a few sharp looks when our gazes lingered upon each other for what she considered too long. I cried myself to sleep last night, thinking we surely would have nothing but Mother's disapproval. This morning, though, a bit of hope. Mother said Zachary and Jonathan would be returning this afternoon for tea, and that she expected me to attend—and to wear one of my best dresses! That could only mean one thing!
What to wear, what to wear... I spent most of this morning thinking of nothing but how to present myself in the most flattering manner. What if this were to be my only chance to win his attention? My heart raced at the very thought!
Victoria Hook. Victoria Hook. Soon, I would be Victoria Hook.
In my mind's eye, I could see her, and in my heart, I could feel the sense of excitement and nervousness that was overtaking Victoria at the thought of this budding romance. As I read, it was like she was coming back to life.
"My dear Victoria," Zachary told me, taking me by the arm as we walked through the rose garden. "I see you're disappointed that Jonathan didn't accompany me today, but please accept his apologies. He had every intention of coming and every intention of capturing your heart."
"Is that really so?" I exclaimed, turning to him with widened eyes. Then, in a second of panic, I glanced around quickly. To my great relief, Mother was nowhere to be seen. She would have been furious if she heard me engaging in such frank conversation with Zachary—especially about such a subject.
Zachary smiled and patted my hand.
"Don't worry," he said. "Your mother knows and approves. I wouldn't have brought Jonathan here without discussing the situation with her, of course. She finds Jonathan quite acceptable, so if you agree, it is only a matter of time before..."
"When will I see him again?" I asked, my heart now pounding double time.
"Does tomorrow evening suit you?"
I must have fallen asleep at some point during my late-night reading session because the next thing I remember is a dreamlike scene that unfolded in my own mind:
"My dear Victoria, I'm sure you remember my friend, Jonathan Hook," Zachary said as he and Jonathan approached me in the salon where Mother always held her most elegant parties. They both appeared suddenly, almost to my surprise, as they emerged through the mass of familiar characters exchanging greetings and shallow words. The three of us formed a triangle as if in a world of our own, ignorant of the high-pitched voices and a wailing waltz.
"Yes, of course I remember Mr. Hook," I said, trembling as he kissed my hand.
"May I ask you for this dance, Miss Moss?"
"I would be delighted, Mr. Hook," I replied, smiling broadly in a way that Mother frowned upon.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Zachary stifling a laugh. He found my rebellious nature quite amusing, which had always encouraged me to take my words or actions one step further just to show him that I truly was capable of shocking Mother. She certainly would find it inappropriate for me to be dancing with Jonathan without even having engaged in a full conversation. But at that point, I was beyond rational thinking. I laced my arm through Jonathan's and walked proudly toward the dance floor.
"I hope I haven't been too presumptuous, Miss Moss," he said as we swirled around as if being carried by a cloud. "I wouldn't want to upset your mother."
"No, Mr. Hook." I smiled daintily now, just for him. "Zachary surely is speaking with Mother right at this moment, and maybe we will see them on the dance floor... He gives her dance lessons, as I am sure you know."
"I'm sorry I wasn't able to come to tea the other day."
Our eyes met, locked and would not part.
"A very bothersome business transaction," he said. "But that's taken care of. So tell me, lovely Victoria Moss, would you do me the honor of dancing only with me this evening?"
Heat rose into my face, but I refused to look down in embarrassment. Secretly, I rejoiced at those words I had dreamed of hearing, but I knew I had to keep my composure.
"If that pleases you, Mr. Hook."
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