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Everything and the Moon (The Lyndon Sisters #1) Page 61
Author: Julia Quinn

Victoria waited for a minute or so, and then, when her stomach let out its third grumble, she decided not to bother with good manners, and reached for the plate of toast.

After a few minutes, two eggs, and a tasty slice of kidney pie, she heard the door open and Robert's voice. “Enjoying your meal?”

She looked up. He looked friendly, polite, and impossibly cheerful. Victoria was instantly suspicious. Wasn't this the same man who had forcibly ejected her from his room the night before?

“I'm famished,” Robert declared. “How is the food? Is it to your liking?”

Victoria washed down a bite of toast with some tea. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“I like you.”

“Last night you didn't,” she muttered.

“Last night I was, shall we say, misinformed.”

“Misinformed? I suppose you stumbled on a wealth of information in the last ten hours?”

He grinned wickedly. “I did, indeed.”

Victoria set her teacup on its saucer with slow, precise movements. “And would you care to share this with me? Your new fount of knowledge?”

He looked at her intently for a split second and then said, “Would you be so kind as to pass me a slice of that kidney pie?”

Victoria's fingers curled around the edge of the pie pan and she pulled the dish out of his reach. “Not just yet.”

He chuckled. “You play dirty, my lady.”

“I am not your lady, and I want to know why you're acting so bloody cheerful this morning. By all rights you should be frothing at the mouth.”

“By all rights? Then you think my anger last night was justified?”

“No!” The word came out a touch more forcefully than Victoria would have liked.

He shrugged. “It's no matter, as I'm no longer angry.”

Victoria stared at him, dumbfounded.

He motioned to the pie pan. “Would you mind?”

She blinked a few times and then snapped her mouth closed when she realized it was hanging open. With an irritated little exhalation she pushed the pie pan in his direction and spent the next ten minutes watching him eat his breakfast.

The ride from Faversham to Ramsgate should have taken about four hours, but they had barely begun when Robert's face suddenly took on a what-a-marvelous-idea expression and he banged on the front of the carriage to signal MacDougal to stop.

The carriage rolled to a halt, and Robert hopped down with what Victoria deemed rather irritating energy and good cheer. He exchanged a few words with MacDougal and then reentered the carriage.

“What was that all about?” Victoria asked.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“I rather think I've had a few too many surprises this past week,” she muttered.

“Oh, come now, you must admit that I have made your life more exciting.”

She snorted. “If one calls being abducted exciting, I suppose you have a point, my lord.”

“I prefer it when you call me Robert.”

“Pity for you, then, that I was not put on this earth to cater to your preferences.”

He only smiled. “I do love sparring with you.”

Victoria's hands clenched at her sides. Trust him to find joy in her insults. She peered out the window and realized that MacDougal had pulled off the Canterbury Road. She turned back to Robert. “Where are we going? I thought you said we were going to Ramsgate.”

“We are going to Ramsgate. We are just making a slight detour to Whitsable.”

“Whitsable? Whyever?”

He leaned forward and grinned rakishly. “Oysters.”

“Oysters?”

“The best in the world.”

“Robert, I do not want oysters. Please take me directly to Ramsgate.”

He raised his brows. “I did not realize you were so eager for a few days alone with me. I shall have to instruct MacDougal to proceed to Ramsgate posthaste.”

Victoria nearly jumped out of her seat in frustration. “That isn't what I meant, and you well know it!”

“So then we may continue on to Whitsable?”

Victoria felt rather like a cat who has found itself hopelessly entangled in a ball of string. “You won't listen to me no matter what I say.”

Robert's face turned instantly grave. “That is not true. I always listen to you.”

“Perhaps, and if you do, then you toss my opinions and requests over your shoulder and do what you please anyway.”

“Victoria, the only time I have done that was in regard to your foolish desire to live in London's worst slum.”

“It isn't the worst slum,” she ground out, more out of habit than anything else.

“I refuse to discuss this further.”

“Because you won't listen to what I have to say!”

“No,” he said, leaning forward, “it is because we have discussed that topic to death. I will not allow you to put yourself in constant danger.”

“It isn't your place to ‘allow’ me anything.”

“You are not usually so addlebrained as to endanger yourself out of spite.” He crossed his arms, his mouth settling into a grim line. “I did what I thought was best.”

“And so you kidnapped me,” she said bitterly.

“If you recall I offered you the option of residing with my relatives. You refused.”

“I want to be independent.”

“One doesn't have to be alone to be independent.”

Victoria couldn't think of a suitable rebuttal to that statement, so she remained silent.

“When I marry you,” Robert said softly, “I want it to be a partnership in every sense of the word. I want to consult you on matters of land management and tenant care. I want us to decide together how to raise our children. I don't know why you are so certain that loving me means losing yourself.”

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Julia Quinn's Novels
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