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Victoria suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, a polite—if feigned—smile gracing her lips.

“May I have this dance?” Lord Porter offered his arm. “That would make me the happiest man on earth.”

Such empty flattery. “Then it would be my honor to bestow such happiness upon you.” Still smiling, Victoria snapped her fan closed and placed her gloved hand on Lord Porter’s forearm.

He beamed up at her, and they walked toward the center of the dance floor, with a sea of envious gazes directed their way. Every young woman in the ballroom wanted to be her. Dressed in a lavish blue gown with flowers embroidered in golden threads, on the arm of the second most eligible gentleman in England, while the rest of the men eyed her greedily, it appeared to outside observers as if she had every advantage in the world. She had every man in any country at her feet, ready to worship the ground she walked upon. What more could a young and beautiful princess want?

Victoria turned to face her dance partner, working hard to maintain a beaming smile on her features. But it wasn’t as simple as that. It was all just an illusion.

She moved closer to her dance partner as a melodious minuet filled the room. Lord Porter smiled at her and started a customary polite conversation about the weather. Smiling softly, Victoria nodded from time to time, only half-heartedly participating in the conversation. This was the third time in as many weeks she had danced with Lord Porter, and he had yet to ask a single personal question about her.

It wasn’t just his character flaw, though. Not one man who had shown her signs of affection had ever asked anything about her, not even something superficial. They complimented her beauty relentlessly, asked about the weather, fashion, and other frivolities of high society, and then proceeded to tell her about what they found exciting or important. She might as well not have been there. Sometimes, she wished she wasn’t.

She stepped away from Lord Porter in the dance and twirled, wondering if he’d notice if she swapped places with the lady next to her. The light was dim enough in the ballroom, and if she took his spectacles away, she wagered she could even replace herself with a life-sized doll.

No, she wasn’t worshiped. She was barely acknowledged, which, if she were honest with herself, was a smidgen better than being unwanted, and that’s precisely what she had been for most of her life.

As they joined together in the dance, Lord Porter continued his one-sided conversation, while Victoria tumbled deeper into her lonely thoughts.

Discarded by her mother, who took her away from her father as if she were an object, simply to spite him, and then left her to her own devices after that. Rejected by her father, who claimed her after her mother’s death, merely to prevent both his daughters from being raised in Russia, and then threw her at the first relative who would take her in. Victoria had known the feeling of being unwanted ever since she was a little child.

Perhaps, that last turn of events might have been the best for her. Her sister was now imprisoned in her home country, a victim of a new greedy ruler, ejected from the throne during a coup and locked up in one of the palace bedrooms.

At least Victoria still had a loving family in the form of her uncle and great aunt who had cared for her since she was a little girl, doing their best to keep her safe in this mad world.

Now, separated from her sister forever, living in a foreign land, all Victoria wanted was a family of her own, a place where she belonged more than anywhere in the world. And even that, the only thing she could control, had been taken away by her loathsome husband!

Victoria huffed aloud and Lord Porter gave her a confused look before continuing his ramblings.

Oh, yes. She was married!

A big surprise—if it were ever uncovered—to everyone in the world except for immediate family and friends.

And to whom did this honor fall, one might ask? To the lying, thieving criminal and the most repugnant scoundrel this world had ever known.

William.

The man who tricked his way into her heart and made her his wife.

At times, Victoria thought—hoped—that it was false, just a strange dream from which she yearned to wake up. At other times, she hoped the marriage was real…

Aaaaargh!

Victoria took a deep breath.

“And that’s when I upped the wager by a hundred pounds! Can you imagine?” Lord Porter said, briefly intruding into her thoughts.

Victoria smiled politely and nodded, twirling in the dance, before returning to her thoughts.

She didn’t want this marriage to be real, she felt the need to clarify to herself. She didn’t want a marriage with a man who had lied about being a lord, costing her the chance to rule by her sister’s side. A man who blackmailed her friends then vanished without a trace.

No, she wanted a real marriage. To be cherished, adored, and loved.

It still struck her as rather strange and unfair that she couldn’t simply divorce her lying husband. Her father had divorced twice and married thrice, yet Victoria was effectively tied to the man she now loathed forever.

However, it didn’t matter because if she couldn’t have a loving husband, she could have an adoring lover. She was rich and powerful in her own right. She could keep as many lovers as she wanted, even bear children if she ever decided to do so. And if she became ostracized from English society—which she doubted because of her connections—she could travel the world.

With this mission in mind, she wore her most provocative gown to the charity ball she was hosting for the benefit of a women’s shelter, smiling and pretending this was the happiest day of her life.