Victoria checked the clock in her room. It was a quarter of an hour before eight—time to start getting ready if she was to arrive downstairs at twenty-five minutes past the hour. Precisely twenty-five minutes past the hour, she thought with a grimace. Not a second sooner and not a second later. Victoria didn't doubt that her job depended on it.
She dressed her hair as best as she could. It wouldn't be as elegant as the other ladies', but she had no maid to fashion fancy ringlets or curl a fringe. A simple yet elegant chignon was the best she could do.
A look at the clock told her that it was time to head downstairs, and so she slipped out of her room, shutting and locking the door behind her. When she arrived in the drawing room, the Hollingwoods' guests were all present, sipping their drinks and chatting amiably. Lord Eversleigh was in a corner with his back mercifully toward her as he flirted with a young blond woman. Victoria breathed a sigh of relief; she was still mortified about that afternoon's incident.
Robert was leaning against a wall, his expression foreboding enough to scare off all but the most foolish socialites. His eyes were intent and they had been focused on the door when she entered. He had obviously been watching for her.
Victoria looked around. No one seemed inclined to approach him. Tonight's batch of socialites must have been considerably less foolish than average.
Robert took a step in her direction, but was cut off by Lady Hollingwood, who made her way immediately to Victoria's side. “Thank you for being prompt,” she said. “Mr. Percival Hornsby will be escorting you in to dinner. I will introduce you to him presently.”
Victoria followed her employer, barely able to believe the woman had actually uttered the words “thank” and “you” in the same sentence. Then, just when she and Lady Hollingwood had nearly crossed the room, she heard Robert's voice.
“Miss Lyndon? Victoria?”
Victoria turned around, dread filling her stomach.
“My word, it is you!” Robert's face was a picture of incredulity as he closed the distance between them in easy strides.
Victoria narrowed her eyes. What the devil was he up to?
“Lord Macclesfield!” Lady Hollingwood said, just a touch breathlessly. “Do not tell me that you are acquainted with Miss Lyndon.”
“I am well acquainted with Miss Lyndon.”
Victoria wondered if anyone else could hear the double meaning in his voice. She itched to let her temper loose and tell him exactly what she thought of his games.
Lady Hollingwood turned to Victoria with an accusing expression. “Miss Lyndon, you did not tell me you were acquainted with Lord Macclesfield.”
“I did not know he was a guest, my lady.” If he could lie, confound him, so could she.
“We grew up together,” Robert added. “In Kent.”
Well, Victoria conceded to herself, that much was not entirely untrue. She may have moved to Kent at the age of seventeen, but she had certainly done some growing up while there. Deception and betrayal had a way of doing that to a person.
“Is that so?” Lady Hollingwood asked, looking terribly interested and just a little bit baffled that her governess might have once moved in the same circles as an earl.
“Yes, our families are great friends.”
Victoria coughed so hard that she had to excuse herself to get something to drink.
“Oh, no, allow me,” Robert said grandly. “I can think of nothing I'd rather do.”
“I can think of many things I'd rather do,” Victoria muttered under her breath. Stomping on his foot would be nice, as would dumping a glass of wine over his head. She'd already done that once with a basin of water, and it had proved most enjoyable. Wine had the added bonus of being red.
While Robert was off procuring Victoria a glass of lemonade, Lady Hollingwood turned on her. “You know Macclesfield?” she hissed. “Why didn't you tell me?”
“I told you, I didn't know he was a guest.”
“Whether or not he is a guest is irrelevant. He is beyond influential. When I hired you, you should have informed me you were—Oh, hello, Lord Macclesfield.”
Robert nodded as he held up two glasses. “Lady Hollingwood, I took the liberty of obtaining lemonade for both of you.”
Lady Hollingwood simpered her thanks. Victoria said nothing, well aware that if she opened her mouth, she'd say something unfit for polite company. Just then, Lord Hollingwood came by, asking his wife if it was time to go in to dinner. “Ah, yes,” Lady Hollingwood said. “I merely need to introduce Miss Lyndon to Mr. Hornsby.”