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“I thought you were willing to die,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “But yes, I am quite shameless and despicable. I am also selfish and hypocritical. I am a villain, darling. And that’s why you love me.”
Victoria’s entire face burned from humiliation. “When I agreed to live with you, I thought—I hoped—you would act like a gentleman. I should have known better.” She paced around the room in panic, looking for something, anything to ease her mind.
She paused in front of their only armchair before stalking back into the bedchamber. She pulled the covers from the bed with a grand show and brought them downstairs before dropping them onto the armchair. “I am going to sleep here,” she declared proudly.
William’s lips twitched from barely suppressed laughter. “As you wish, my lady,” he said with a shallow bow. Then he climbed the stairs to his bedroom, leaving her alone, not even trying to dissuade her from her decision.
* * *
Victoria woke up with a numb pain in her neck and back. She stretched and almost toppled over the side of the armchair. Right. She wasn’t in her lovely bed at her uncle’s house. She was in—the smell of fire mixed with the aroma of food penetrated her nostrils—the kitchen…
She sat up and frowned at William’s back. He was kneeling by the hearth and stirring something atop a frying pan. He was barefoot, clad only in breeches and a single shirt.
He was cooking. By himself. Victoria couldn’t help but let panic set in. He wasn’t joking about having no servants. He truly expected them to live this way!
How would she ever manage with no one to help dress her, style her hair, and launder her clothes? She had never cooked a meal in her life. And although William seemed quite adept with a pan in his hand, what if he expected her to make their food in the future?
And clean the floors? Empty the chamber pots!
The very thought made her shudder in disgust. This little tower was no place for a lady of her standing. She was a princess, for heaven’s sake! Her hands were made for embroidery and harpsichords, not mops and pots. At least he seemed capable in the kitchen…
But the unfairness of it all sent her mind reeling. All the horrible possibilities of their life in this little shed whirled inside her head.
He turned to her then and paused in surprise as he saw her sitting up. His eyes softened, and a small smile appeared on his lips. He always smiled. It was part of his charm. Part of the reason she fell in love with him. He always made her feel at ease.
“I prepared a pitcher of water for you upstairs in the dressing room. Clean yourself up and join me for breakfast.”
“Clean my…” She cleared her throat for it had been scratchy. “Clean myself up and join you for breakfast? I can’t just do that. I need to get dressed. I need help getting dressed!”
She had been able to undress herself the night before. She’d brushed out her hair and prepared for bed. But getting ready for the day ahead was different. All her clothes aside from the dressing gown required a maid’s hand. And aside from a tight bun, she wasn’t able to arrange her own coiffure.
William leisurely studied her form from head to toe, making her shiver. She pulled the sheets up to her chin and huddled in the chair, making herself as small as she could.
“There’s no one to see you. You can walk around in your nightgown.” He winked and added with a lascivious smile, “Or naked.”
Victoria jumped out of the chair and dashed toward the dressing room, hurling obscenities in Russian in her wake.
She washed herself carefully and patted herself dry with a towel. What an inconsiderate brute! Did he truly intend to strip her of her dignity and her clothes by forcing her to trot around this dark and tiny tower without proper clothing?
She walked into the bedroom and paused by the bed. What she hadn’t noticed when she stormed through the bedchamber was not only that the bed was made—she’d expected it to be unmade, they had no servants after all—but also, on top of the bed lay a simple wool frock with lace on the front, so it didn’t require a second person to dress her.
Victoria swallowed and approached the gown. She took it into her hands and was surprised at the softness and comfort it presented.
The bastard could have told her that he had a day gown for her! But no, it wouldn’t be him if he didn’t rile her up before revealing he had done something thoughtful.
She got dressed and went down to breakfast. The kitchen was clean, no sign of the blankets and sheets she’d used for her bedding. Instead, the table was laden with breakfast foods.
Victoria frowned. “How do you manage to keep this house clean without servants?”
William raised his head and studied her from head to toe in that insufferable, licentious, self-satisfied way of his. “The dress suits you.”
Her cheeks heated, and she hid her eyes before joining the table. “Thank you.”
“I have a housekeeper. Someone I trust. She comes here weekly to do major chores. Otherwise, I can manage well by myself.”
“You can’t be expecting me to do any of the chores, can you?” She started stabbing at the food with her fork.
“No. I can provide for you all by myself. Isn’t that what you wanted? A husband who could take care of you no matter what?”
