“Yes,” Mrs. Brightbill replied. “Everyone will be there. Including my dear, dear, dear Basil.”
Victoria blinked. “Who is Basil?”
“My brother,” Harriet replied. “He's not often in London.”
“The more family the better,” Mrs. Brightbill said briskly. “Just in case Victoria is not received favorably and we have to close ranks.”
“No one would dare cut Victoria,” Robert growled. “Not unless they want to answer to me.”
Harriet gaped at her cousin's uncharacteristic ferocity. “Victoria,” she said, “I think he really does love you.”
“Of course I love her,” Robert snapped. “Do you think I would have gone to the trouble of abducting her if I didn't?”
Victoria felt something warming in her chest—something that felt suspiciously like love.
“And no one would want to cross my dear, dear, dear Basil, either,” Mrs. Brightbill added.
Victoria turned to her husband with a secret smile and whispered, “I'm afraid Basil is closer to her heart than you, darling. He gets three ‘dears,’ whereas you only received two.”
“A fact for which I thank my maker every day of my life,” Robert muttered.
Mrs. Brightbill's eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I don't know what you two are saying, but I vow I do not care. Unlike some of those present, I am able to keep my thoughts focused on the goals at hand.”
“What are you talking about?” Robert said.
“Shopping. Victoria will have to come with me this very morning if she is to have a proper gown for tomorrow evening. Madame is likely to have a fit at such short notice, but there is nothing to do about it.”
“Aunt Brightbill,” Robert said, eyeing her over his cup of coffee, “you might want to ask Victoria if she is free.”
Victoria stifled a smile at the way he stood up for her. Robert showed her in so many ways how much he loved her. From his passionate kisses to his unflagging support and respect, he couldn't have made his love more clear if he shouted it out. Which he did, actually. The thought made her grin.
“What is so funny?” Robert asked, looking a trifle suspicious.
“Nothing, nothing,” Victoria said quickly, realizing in a flash that she really did love this man. She wasn't sure how to tell him, but she knew it was true. Whatever he had been as a boy, he was ten times more as a man, and she couldn't imagine life without him.
“Victoria?” Robert prodded, breaking into her thoughts.
“Oh, yes.” She flushed with embarrassment at having let her mind wander off. “Of course I shall go shopping with Mrs. Brightbill. I always have time for my new favorite aunt.”
Mrs. Brightbill sniffled back a sentimental tear. “Oh, my darling girl, I should be so honored if you would call me Aunt Brightbill, just as my dear, dear Robert does.”
Her dear, dear Robert just then looked as if he had had just about enough.
Victoria placed her hand atop the older lady's. “I should be honored.”
“See?” Harriet chirped. “I knew we would be family. Didn't I say so?”
Chapter 22
M rs. Brightbill turned out to be almost frighteningly organized, and Victoria found herself bustled from shop to shop with the precision of a master. It was easy to see where Robert had gotten his ability to devise a plan and then single-mindedly execute it. Aunt Brightbill was a woman on a mission, and nothing was going to get in her way.
Normally they wouldn't have been able to buy a suitable gown on such short notice, but this time Victoria's working class past worked to her advantage. The staff at Madame Lambert's was thrilled to see her again, and they worked around the clock to make certain that her dress would be beyond compare. Victoria suffered through the preparations somewhat absentmindedly. Now that she had finally decided she truly loved Robert, she was at a complete loss as to how to tell him. It should have been easy—she knew he loved her and would be delighted no matter how she said it. But she wanted it to be perfect, and it was difficult to do anything perfectly when four seamstresses were poking pins in one's side. And it was even more difficult with Aunt Brightbill snapping off orders like an army general.
There was, of course, the night, but Victoria didn't want to tell him while in the heat of passion. She wanted it to be clear that her love for him was based on more than desire.
And so, by the time she was preparing for the ball, she still hadn't told him. She was sitting at her vanity table, pondering this while a maid dressed her hair. A knock sounded at the door, and Robert entered without waiting for a reply.