“Don't!” she said sharply, remembering her anguish at his desertion so many years before. She didn't need her heart broken again. It wasn't even completely mended from their last encounter. She jerked herself away and stood up, saying, “I have to tend to Neville. There is no telling what kind of trouble he will get himself into.”
“Tend away,” he murmured.
“Neville! Neville!”
The boy came galloping over. “Yes, Lyndon?” he said insolently.
Victoria clenched her teeth for a moment, trying to ignore his rudeness. She'd long since given up trying to get him to call her Miss Lyndon. “Neville, we—”
But she didn't get to finish, because in the space of a second, Robert was on his feet and looming over the boy. “What did you say?” he demanded. “How did you address your governess?”
Neville's mouth fell open. “I called her…I called her…”
“You called her Lyndon, didn't you?”
“Yes, sir, I did. I—”
“Do you realize how disrespectful that is?”
This time it was Victoria's mouth that fell open.
“No, sir, I did not. I—”
“Miss Lyndon works very hard to take care of you and give you an education, does she not?”
Neville tried to speak, but nothing came out.
“From now on you will address her as Miss Lyndon. Do you understand?”
By this point Neville was staring at Robert with an expression that hovered between awe and terror. He nodded furiously.
“Good,” Robert said firmly. “Now shake my hand.”
“Sh-shake your hand, sir?”
“Yes. By shaking my hand you officially promise to address Miss Lyndon properly, and a gentleman never reneges on his promises, does he?”
Neville thrust his tiny hand forward. “No, sir.”
The two males shook hands, and then Robert gave the boy a little pat on the back. “Run along back to the nursery, Neville. Miss Lyndon will follow in a moment.”
Neville practically sprinted back to the house, leaving Victoria slackjawed and utterly limp. She turned to Robert, nearly dumbstruck. “What did you…How did you…”
Robert beamed. “Just offering you a bit of assistance. I hope you don't mind.”
“No!” Victoria said with great emotion. “No, I don't mind. Thank you. Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure, I assure you.”
“I had better see to Neville.” Victoria took several steps toward the house, then turned around, her expression still dazed. “Thank you!”
Robert leaned back against the tree trunk, utterly pleased with his progress. Victoria couldn't stop thanking him. It was a most satisfying state of affairs.
He should have disciplined the boy ages ago.
Chapter 6
A full day passed before Victoria saw him again. A full day of waiting, of wondering, of dreaming about him even when she knew that was absolutely the wrong thing to be doing.
Robert Kemble had broken her heart once, and she had no reason to believe that he wouldn't do it again. Robert. She had to stop thinking of him that way. He was the earl of Macclesfield, and his title dictated his behavior in a way she could never hope to understand.
It was the reason he'd rejected her, the reason he'd never once seriously contemplated marrying a poor vicar's daughter. It was probably the reason he'd lied to her. During the past few years Victoria had learned that seducing young innocents was considered a kind of sport among noblemen. Robert had just been following the rules of his world.
His world. Not hers.
And yet he had solved her problems with Neville. He certainly didn't have to do that. The young boy was now treating her as if she were the queen. Victoria had never had such a peaceful day of governessing in her career.
Oh, she knew that heroes were supposed to slay dragons and quote verse and all that, but maybe, just maybe, all it really took to be a hero was getting the world's most difficult five-year-old to behave.
Victoria shook her head. She couldn't afford to place Robert on a pedestal. And if he tried to see her alone again, she would have to send him on his way. It didn't matter if her heart soared when she saw him, or if her pulse raced, or if her—
She forced herself to stop in mid-thought and turned her mind back to the matter at hand. She and Neville were taking their daily walk around the Hollingwood grounds. For the first time in memory, he hadn't stomped on her foot or poked at some poor insect with a stick. And he called her Miss Lyndon every chance he got. Victoria was pleased that he had finally learned a lesson in manners. Perhaps there might be hope for the boy after all.