“Don't. We all deserve a bit of fun every now and then.”
She smiled wryly. Fun. What a novel concept. “Very well. To what shall we toast?”
“Us, of course.”
“Robert…”
“Such a spoilsport. Very well, to happiness!”
Victoria clinked her oyster shell against his. “To happiness.” She watched as Robert ate his oyster, and then, after muttering “One only lives once, I suppose,” she followed suit and sucked it down.
Robert watched her with an amused expression. “How did you enjoy it?”
Victoria came up spluttering. “My goodness, but that was the oddest culinary experience I have ever encountered.”
“I'm finding it difficult to discern whether that is a positive or negative statement,” Robert said.
“I'm finding it difficult as well,” she replied, looking a touch startled. “I cannot decide if that was the best food I have ever tasted or the absolute worst.”
He laughed out loud. “Perhaps you should try another?”
“I don't suppose they serve beef stew?”
Robert shook his head.
“Well, then, I suppose I'll need another oyster if I do not want to perish of starvation later in the day.”
He prepared another for her. “Your wish is my command.”
She shot him a disbelieving glance. “I'm going to pay you a small kindness and not make a suitable retort to that comment.”
“I believe you just did.”
Victoria ate another oyster, dabbed her lips with her napkin, and smiled archly. “Yes, I did, didn't I?”
Robert was silent for a moment, then he said, “I think it's working.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The oysters. I think you like me better already.”
“I do not,” she said, trying very hard not to smile.
He clutched at his chest. “I am heartbroken. Utterly bereaved.”
“Stop being so silly.”
“Or perhaps…” He scratched his head in an attempt to look serious and thoughtful. “Perhaps the reason you don't like me any better is because you liked me quite well to begin with.”
“Robert!”
“I know, I know. I am having fun at your expense. But you are having fun, too.”
She didn't say anything.
“Are you still angry we detoured to Whitsable?”
There was a long silence, and then Victoria shook her head.
Robert didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until it came out in a long whoosh. He reached across the table and placed his hand over hers. “It can always be like this,” he whispered. “You can always be this happy.”
She opened her mouth, but he didn't let her speak. “I saw it in your eyes,” he said. “You enjoyed yourself more this afternoon than you have in the last seven years.”
Victoria's head forced her reluctant heart to pull her hand away. “You weren't with me during the last seven years. You can't know what I did or did not feel.”
“I know.” He paused. “And it breaks my heart.”
They didn't speak for the rest of the meal.
The ride to Ramsgate took just over three hours. Robert was surprised that Victoria fell asleep in the carriage. He'd thought her much too tense to drift into slumber, but then again maybe she was simply exhausted. He didn't much mind her inattention; he liked to watch her while she slept. It also gave him the opportunity to carry her into the cottage when they arrived. She was warm and soft and everything he could ever want. He gently set her down on the bed in the cottage's second bedroom and pulled a quilt up over her. She might be uncomfortable sleeping in her clothing, but he rather thought she'd prefer that to being undressed by him.
He, of course, would have preferred…He shuddered and shook his head. Never mind what he would have preferred. He was getting hot just thinking about it, and his cravat suddenly felt uncommonly tight.
Robert left the room with a groan, firmly resolving to take a swim in the icy ocean as soon as possible.
Chapter 17
V ictoria woke up to the smell of salt air. She yawned and blinked, momentarily confused by her surroundings. This must be Robert's cottage, she realized. She wondered when he had purchased it. He hadn't owned it when they had courted so many years before.
She sat up in bed and took stock of the room. It was quite lovely, actually, done in shades of blue and peach. It wasn't a particularly feminine room, but it wasn't masculine either, and she had no doubt that it was not Robert's chamber. She let out a sigh of relief. She hadn't really thought that he would be so bold as to put her in his bedroom, but it had been a niggling fear. Victoria rose to her feet and decided to explore the cottage. The house was quiet—Robert was either asleep or out. Either way it afforded her a perfect opportunity to snoop. She padded out into the hall, not bothering to put on her shoes. It was a sturdy little house, with thick stone walls and a timbered roof. Its snug second floor housed only two rooms, but each had a fire-place. Victoria peeked into the other room and ascertained that it was Robert's. The four-poster bed was solid and masculine and faced a large window, open to a glorious view of the Strait of Dover. A telescope stood by the window. Robert had always loved to look at the stars.