pack anything else beside that nightgown,” Theresa said. She was sitting on the settee next to Victoria and had been a constant companion during the shopping expeditions.
“Of course I’ll need more than the nightgown. I’m planning to do a great deal of sightseeing and shopping in all of the places I missed last time I was in Italy.”
“With that nightgown, I’m sure Nathaniel will be doing lots of sightseeing too,” Theresa said with a wicked glimmer.
Victoria gasped and slapped playfully at Theresa’s arm. “Hush!” Even though Victoria was smiling, from the way her eyes widened and her pupils dilated, Tom could tell she was mortified by her friend’s comment.
Tom had to admit, the comment unnerved him too. Not because he didn’t like the thought of Nathaniel looking at Victoria. No, on the few occasions Victoria had spent time with Nathaniel, Tom had liked the guy. He was genuine and decent. Frivolous. Flighty. Spoiled. But honest. And after he married Victoria, he’d have every right to feast upon her beauty. In that nightgown.
Okay. Maybe he was unnerved a little by the thought of another man looking at Victoria. He supposed his overprotective nature was coming out more than usual because she was so young.
Whatever the case, the real reason he was uncomfortable was because he wasn’t accustomed to the brashness some American women from the high society displayed. Most of the European royalty he accompanied were proper and polite, at least in public.
Madame Bisseau’s frown indicated that she hadn’t found Theresa’s comment amusing either. The French woman finished folding the silk nightgown and gently placed it with several other items in a flat box.
Through the front shop window, Tom caught sight of Nathaniel climbing down from a bright yellow phaeton. It was new. From the condition of the tires, Tom could tell that it had only been driven a couple of times.
Nathaniel was impeccably attired, as usual. He wore a light gray pin-striped suit accented with a bow tie and top hat. He cut a dashing figure in his finely tailored outfit, and he had a carefree, fun-loving look about him, especially with his wind-tossed sandy brown hair.
Nathaniel inspected the side of his phaeton, took out a handkerchief, and polished a spot. He nodded and smiled to three young ladies who flirted with him as they walked past. But his attention on them was only fleeting. Tom couldn’t fault Nathaniel for his devotion to Victoria. Even when other women vied for him, he had eyes only for his bride-to-be.
As Nathaniel proceeded toward Madame Bisseau’s salon and opened the door, Tom surveyed outside the store to make sure nothing had changed since they’d arrived and that no one was lurking nearby. No strange carriages. No lingering passers-by. No oddities.
He stepped back inside just as Victoria stood and smiled at Nathaniel. She held out her hands to him in a welcoming gesture. Although her eyes lit up at the sight of him, there was something missing from her expression. Tom couldn’t name what it was, but he’d noticed her reaction to Nathaniel before.
And he’d noted Theresa’s too. Victoria’s friend was in love with the man. Although she kept her feelings hidden from Victoria, she couldn’t hide them from Tom. He’d noticed the sideway glances filled with longing, the rapt attention whenever Nathaniel spoke, the extra long laughter at Nathaniel’s jokes that weren’t funny.
At least Theresa had the decency to make the best of the situation. Tom could tell she was sharp. She’d apparently realized early enough that Nathaniel was thoroughly enamored with Victoria. Half the time he was so busy fawning over Victoria that he forgot Theresa was even there. Victoria was kind enough to draw her friend in and keep her from being left out.
“Are you ready for our lunch at Delmonico’s, darling?” Nathaniel had taken off his hat and was raking his fingers through his hair and tossing the wayward strands back.
“I’m very ready.” Victoria cast a sideways glance at the box Madame Bisseau was now tying closed with a silk ribbon. Her eyes rounded with embarrassment, and she quickly grabbed Nathaniel’s hand and began to propel him toward the door.
“You’ll be the first to ride in my new phaeton,” Nathaniel said with a grin.
“She can’t ride in a phaeton,” Tom said.
Nathaniel halted abruptly, which in turn forced Victoria to stop. The excitement that had been playing across his features dropped into disappointment.
“With the open top, it’s too dangerous.” Tom offered the explanation before anyone could protest. The anonymous letter Mr.