ictoria awoke the next morning with only one thought in her head: she wanted to stay as far away from Robert Kemble, Earl of Macclesfield, as possible.

She didn't want revenge. She didn't want an apology. She just didn't want to see him.

She rather hoped Robert felt the same way. Lord knew he had seemed uncommonly angry with her the previous night. She shrugged, not quite certain why he would have been quite so furious. She supposed she had pricked his male ego. She was probably his only failure at seduction.

Victoria dressed quickly, mentally preparing herself for breakfast with Neville, which was always an unpleasant chore. That boy had learned how to complain from a master—his mother. If the eggs weren't too cold, then the tea was too hot, or the—

A sharp rap sounded at the door, and Victoria whirled around, her heart suddenly pounding triple-time. Surely Robert wouldn't have the audacity to approach her in her room. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, remembering his surly attitude. He probably would go ahead and do such a foolish thing.

Fury rose within her. Such behavior could cost her her position, and unlike Robert she was not appallingly wealthy. She crossed the room in quick strides and yanked open the door with an angry, "What?"

"I beg your pardon, Miss Lyndon."

"Oh, Lady Hollingwood, I'm so sorry. I thought you were... That is to say..." Miserably, Victoria let her words trail off. At this rate she wouldn't need Robert to lose her position for her. She was doing a good job of it all by herself.

Lady Hollingwood inclined her head imperiously and entered the room without waiting for an invitation. "I am here to talk with you about your unfortunate disappearance last evening."

"Master Neville led me into the maze, my lady. I could not find my way out."

"Do not try to force a boy of only five years to accept the blame for your actions."

Victoria fisted her hands at her sides.

"Do you realize," Lady Hollingwood continued, "the extent to which you inconvenienced me? I had a house full of guests to attend to, and I was forced to take time away from them to put my son to bed. You should have been there to do it."

"I would have been, my lady," Victoria said, trying not to clench her teeth. "But I was trapped in the maze. Surely you—"

"You may consider this your final warning, Miss Lyndon. I am most displeased with your performance. One more mishap and I shall be forced to toss you out." Lady Hollingwood whirled on her heel and stalked back into the hall. Then she turned around to say, "Without a reference."

Victoria stared at the open doorway for several seconds before finally letting out a deep breath. She would have to find a new position. This was unacceptable. Unbearable. It was—

"Victoria." Robert's frame filled the doorway.

"As if the day could get any worse," she muttered.

Robert raised an insolent brow, glancing at the clock on her bedside table. "Really now, how bad could your day possibly be at this time in the morning?"

She tried to brush past him. "I have to get to work."

"And feed young Neville?" His hand closed around her arm, and he kicked the door shut behind him. "Not necessary. Neville has gone riding with my good friend Ramsay, who has graciously volunteered to entertain the little brat all morning."

Victoria shut her eyes for a moment and exhaled, a rush of memory overwhelming her. He had always been so organized, always attending to the smallest of details. She should have known he'd find a way to occupy Neville if he wanted to see her alone.

When she opened her eyes he was idly examining a book on her bedside table. "No more romantic novels?" he asked, holding up the book, a rather dry discussion of the study of astronomy.

Her chin lifted a fraction of an inch. "I don't enjoy romantic novels any longer."

Robert continued to flip through the pages of the book. "I had no idea you so enjoyed astronomy."

Victoria swallowed, not about to tell him that the moon and stars made her feel closer to him. Or rather, closer to the person she'd thought he'd been. "My lord," she said with a sigh. "Why are you doing this?"

He shrugged and sat on her small bed. "Doing what?"

"This!" She threw up her arms. "Coming to my room. Sitting on my bed." She blinked, as if just realizing what he was doing. "You're on my bed. For God's sake, get off my bed."

He smiled slowly. "Make me."

"I am not so infantile that you can rile me with such a challenge."

"No?" He leaned back against her pillows and crossed his ankles. "Don't worry. My boots are clean."

Victoria's eyes narrowed, and then she picked up the basin full of water she used for washing and dumped it on his head and chest. "I take that back," she said acidly. "I can be quite childish when the occasion warrants."

"Good Christ, woman!" Robert sputtered, leaping off the bed. Water ran in rivulets down his face, soaking his cravat and shirt.

Victoria leaned against the wall and crossed her arms, quite pleased with her handiwork.

"Do you know," she said with a satisfied smile, "but I think that all might be right with the world after all."

"Don't you dare," he roared, "try a stunt like that again!"

"And do what? Impugn your honor? I wasn't aware you had any."

He advanced on her with menacing steps. Victoria probably would have taken the cowardly way out and retreated, but her back was already up against the wall. "You," he said savagely, "are going to be extremely sorry you did that."

Victoria couldn't help it. She giggled. "Robert," she said, lapsing into the familiar. "Nothing could ever make me sorry I did that. For the rest of my life I will treasure this moment. Treasure it. In fact, this may very well be the one thing I am least sorry—"

"Victoria," he said, his voice deadly. "Shut up."

She did, but she didn't stop smirking.

He closed the space between them until he was just a heartbeat away. "If you are going to get me wet," he said, his voice dropping into a husky murmur, "then you are damn well going to dry me off."

Victoria scooted to the side. "Perhaps a towel... I'd be happy to lend you mine."

He moved so that he was right in front of her again, and touched her chin with his fingers. His body was hot, but his eyes were even hotter. "I've waited a lifetime for this," he whispered, pressing his body against hers.

The water from his clothing soaked into Victoria's dress, but she didn't feel anything but the heat from his body. "Don't," she whispered. "Don't do this."

His eyes held a strange desperation. "I can't help it," he said hoarsely. "God help me, I can't help it."

His lips came down toward hers with agonizing slowness. He hovered for a moment when he was just a hairbreadth away, as if he was trying to hold himself back at the last moment. Then, with stunning swiftness, his hands left her arms and moved to the back of her head, binding her lips to his.

Robert planted his hands into her thick hair, unmindful of the way her hairpins were clattering to the floor. It felt just the same—silky and heavy, and the scent of it was enough to drive him wild. He murmured her name over and over, forgetting for a moment that he hated her, that she'd abandoned him years ago, that she was the reason his heart had been dead for seven long years. He relied on instinct alone, and his body could do nothing but recognize that she was his Torie, and she was in his arms, and she belonged there.

He kissed her savagely, trying to drink in enough of her essence to make up for all their lost years. His hands clutched at her, roving over her body, trying to remember and memorize each curve.

"Torie," he murmured, trailing his lips down the line of her neck. "I've never... No other woman..."

Victoria let her head loll back, all reason having fled with the first touch of his lips. She'd thought she'd forgotten what it felt like to be held in his arms, to feel the touch of his lips on her skin.

But she hadn't. Every touch was achingly familiar and startlingly exciting. And when he lowered her onto her bed, she couldn't even think to protest.

The weight of his body pressed her into the mattress, and one of his hands wrapped around her calf, squeezing and caressing its way up past her knee.

"I'm going to love you, Torie," Robert said fiercely. "I'm going to love you until you can't move. I'm going to love you until you can't think." His hand traveled ever higher, reaching the hot skin of her upper thigh where her stockings ended. "I'm going to love you the way I should have before."

Victoria groaned with pleasure. She'd spent seven long years without so much as a hug, and she was starved for physical affection. She had known what it was like to be touched and kissed, and she had no idea how much she'd missed it until that very moment. His hand moved, and she dimly realized that he was fumbling with his breeches, opening them and—

"Oh, God, no!" she cried out, pushing at his shoulders. In her mind's eye she could see them from above. Her legs were open, and Robert was settled between them. "No, Robert," she said again, wriggling out from beneath him. "I can't."

"Don't do this." he warned, passion still glazing his eyes. "Don't tease me and—"

"This is all you ever wanted, isn't it?" she demanded, darting off the bed. "All you ever wanted from me."

"It was certainly one thing," he muttered, looking as if he were in pain.

"God, I'm so stupid." She crossed her arms across her chest in a defensive maneuver. "One would think I'd have learned my lesson by now."

"As one would think I'd have learned mine," he said bitterly.

"Please go."

He stopped on his way to the door, just to be contrary. "Please? Such nice manners."

"Robert, I'm asking you as politely as I know how."

"But why ask me to leave?" He stepped toward her. "Why fight it, Torie? You know you want me."

"That's not the point!" Horrified, Victoria realized what she'd just revealed. She wasn't sure how she managed to get the words out, but she forced herself to lower her voice and said, "For the love of God, Robert, do you understand what you're doing? I am within an inch of being dismissed from this post. I cannot afford to lose it. If you were to be found in my room, I would be tossed out on my ear."

"Really?" He looked intrigued by the prospect.

She spoke slowly, carefully measuring her words. "I realize that you do not harbor any wealth of good feelings toward me. But for the sake of common decency, please leave! She hated that she sounded as if she was begging, but she had no choice. At the end of the house party, Robert would leave and resume his Me. This was her life.

He leaned forward, his blue eyes sharp and intent. "Why do you care? You can't possibly love this position so much."

Victoria snapped. She just snapped. "Of course I don't love this position. Do you think I enjoy attending to the needs of the world's most monstrous five-year-old? Do you think I enjoy being spoken to as if I were a dog by his mother? Use your brain, Robert. What there is of it, at least."

Robert ignored her insult. "Then why stay?"

"Because I don't have any choice!" she burst out. "Do you have any idea what it is like not to have any choices? Do you? No, of course you don't." She turned her back to him, unable to face him while she was shaking with emotion.

"Why don't you marry?"

"Because I—" She swallowed. How could she say that she had never married because she knew no man could ever live up to him? Even if his entire courtship of her had been false, it had been perfect, and she knew that she would never find anyone who could make her as happy as she'd been those two short months.

"Just go," she said, her words barely audible. "Go."

"This isn't over, Torie."

She ignored his pointed use of her nickname. "It has to be over. It should never have begun."

Robert stared at her a full minute. "You're different." he finally said.

"I am not the same girl you tried to take advantage of, if that is what you mean." She stood straight and tall. "It has been seven years, Robert. I am a different person now. As, apparently, are you."

Robert left the room without another word, swiftly making his way from the servants' quarters to the guest wing where he'd been given a room.

What the hell had he been thinking?

He hadn't been. That could be the only explanation. Why else would he arrange for Victoria's charge to be entertained all morning and then steal into her room?

"Because she makes me feel alive," he whispered to himself.

He couldn't remember the last time his senses were so finely tuned, the last time he'd felt such an exquisitely heady rush.

No, that wasn't entirely true. He remembered all too well. It had been the last time he'd held her in his arms. Seven years ago.

It was some consolation to learn that those years had not brought her happiness, either. She had been a scheming adventuress, intent upon marrying into a fortune, but all she had found was a miserable position as a governess.

Circumstances had certainly brought her low. He might be dead inside, but at least he had the freedom to do what he wanted when he wanted to do it. Victoria was desperately trying to hold on to a livelihood she hated, always fearing that she'd be tossed out without a reference.

That was when it occurred to him. He could have her and his revenge, too.

His body sang at the thought of holding her in his arms, of kissing every inch of that delectable body.

His mind raced at the idea that they might be discovered by Victoria's employers, who would then never allow her to watch over their precious Neville.

Victoria would be cut adrift. He doubted she would return to her father. She had too much pride for that. No, she would be all alone, with no one to turn to.

Except him.

He would need a very good plan this time.

Robert had spent two hours lying motionless on his bed, ignoring knocks on the door, ignoring the clock that told him that breakfast was no longer being served. He'd simply put his hands behind his head, looked up at the ceiling, and started to scheme.

If he was going to woo Victoria into his bed, he would have to charm her there. This was not a problem. Robert had spent the last seven years in London, and he certainly knew how to be charming.

He was, in fact, widely reputed to be one of the most charming men in all Britain, which was why he'd never lacked for female companionship.

But Victoria presented a new challenge. She was vastly distrustful of him and seemed to think that all he wanted was to seduce her. Which wasn't far from the truth, of course, but it would not aid his cause to let her continue to believe that his motives were so impure.

He would have to win back her friendship first. The concept was oddly appealing, even as his body hardened at the mere thought of her.

She would try to push him away. He was certain of that. Hmmm. He would have to be charming and persistent. In fact, he would probably have to be more persistent than charming.

Robert bounded out of bed, splashed some very cold water on his face, and left the room with only one aim.

Finding Victoria.

She was sitting under a shady tree, looking heartbreakingly lovely and innocent, but Robert tried to ignore the latter. Neville was some twenty yards away, screaming about Napoleon and slashing a toy saber wildly through the air. Victoria had one eye on the boy and one eye on a small notebook in which she was slowly writing.

"This doesn't seem like such a dreadful job," Robert said, lowering himself to the ground next to her. "Sitting under a shady tree, enjoying the afternoon sunshine..."

She sighed. "I thought I told you to leave me alone."

"Not precisely. I believe you told me to leave your room. Which I did."

She stared at him as if he were the world's biggest fool. "Robert," she said, not needing to finish the sentence. Her beleaguered tone said it all.

He shrugged. "I missed you."

At that, her mouth fell open. "Do try to come up with something even slightly believable."

"Enjoying the country air?" He leaned back and supported himself with his elbows.

"How can you come here and make polite conversation?"

"I thought that was what friends did."

"We are not friends."

He grinned rakishly. "We could be."

"No," she said firmly. "We couldn't."

"Now, now, Torie, don't work yourself into a snit."

"I am NOT—" She broke off, realizing that she was working herself into a snit. She cleared her throat and then forced her voice into carefully modulated tones. "I am not working myself into a snit."

He smiled at her in an annoyingly condescending manner.

"Robert—"

"I do like the sound of my given name on your lips." He sighed. "Always have."

"My lord—" she ground out.

"That's even better. It implies a certain subservience that is most appealing."

She gave up trying to communicate and turned her entire body away from him.

"What are you writing?" he asked, directly over her shoulder.

Victoria stiffened at the feel of his breath on her neck. "Nothing of interest to you."

"Is it a diary?"

"No. Go away."

He gave up on charm in favor of persistence and craned his head to get a better view. "Are you writing about me?"

"I said it's not a diary."

"I don't believe you."

She whirled around. "Would you cease pestering—" Her words stopped short when she found herself nose to nose with him. She pulled back.

He smiled.

She pulled back farther.

He smiled wider.

She pulled back even farther. She fell over.

Robert immediately jumped to his feet and offered her his hand. "Would you like some assistance?"

"NO!" Victoria pulled herself upright, grabbed her blanket, and stalked over to another tree. She settled back down, hoping he would take the hint, but doubting he actually would.

He didn't, of course. "You never did tell me what you were writing." he said as he sat down beside her.

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" She thrust the notebook into his hands. "Read it if you must."

He scanned the lines and cocked a brow. "Lesson plans."

"I am a governess." It was perhaps the most sarcastic tone she'd ever used.

"You're quite good," he mused.

She rolled her eyes.

"How does one know how to be a governess?" he asked. "It isn't as if one can attend governess school."

Victoria closed her eyes for a moment, trying to fight back a wave of nostalgia. That was exactly the sort of question Robert would have asked when they were younger. "I don't know how others do it," she finally replied. "But I try to emulate my mother. She taught Ellie and me before she died. And then I took over and taught Ellie until I had nothing left to teach."

"I can't imagine your running out of things to teach."

Victoria smiled. "By the time Ellie was ten, she was teaching me mathematics. She has always been—" She broke off, horrified by how comfortable she'd grown with him in these past few minutes. She stiffened and said, "It's no matter."

One corner of Robert's mouth lifted into a knowing smile, as if he knew exactly what she had been thinking. He looked back down at her notebook and turned a page. "You obviously take great pride in what you do," he said. "I thought you hated this position."

"I do. But that doesn't mean that I will do less than my best. That would be unfair to Neville."

"Neville is a brat."

"Yes, but he deserves a good education."

He stared at her, surprised by her convictions. She was a beautiful schemer whose only criterion for a husband was a fortune. And yet she worked herself to the bone to ensure that a detestable little boy received a good education.

He handed the notebook back to her. "I wish I'd had a governess like you."

"You were probably worse than Neville," she retorted. But she smiled as she said it.

His heart leapt, and he had to remind himself that he didn't like her, that he was out to seduce and ruin her. "I can't imagine that there is anything wrong with the boy that a bit of discipline can't mend."

"If it were only that easy. Lady Hollingwood has forbidden me to discipline him."

"Lady H. is a corkbrain, as my young cousin Harriet would say."

"Why did you come to her house party, then? She was quite beside herself that an earl would be in attendance."

"I don't know." He paused, then leaned forward. "But I'm glad I did."

She didn't move for a few seconds, couldn't have moved if her life depended on it. She could feel his breath on her cheek, and it was so achingly familiar. "Don't do this," she whispered.

"This?" He swayed forward, and his lips brushed her cheek in the most feather-light of caresses.

"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.