Hearts Entwined (Victorian Love #3) - M.A. Nichols Page 0,44

The tenderness in his smile. The peaceful joy he radiated whenever their heads were together.

Mr. Kingsley still sought out Victoria’s company with equal frequency, but she recognized the sentiments stirring for Miss Banfield, even if the gentleman himself didn’t recognize that his heart was straying.

Victoria’s muscles ached as though she had run from Hardington Hall to this secluded corner of the grounds, her stomach tying in knots as she feigned a nibble of food here and there; even if she felt inclined to eat, Victoria would not arm her insides with something that would just roil and churn, causing her distress for long hours after.

What was she to do?

“Have you seen your brother of late, Lily?” asked Victoria as she rose to her feet.

Lily held a board with watercolor paper fixed atop it, and she held out the painting, examining it this way and that. “I believe the other gentlemen dragged him off to fish.”

Victoria leaned over Lily’s shoulder and glanced at her work. “That is lovely.”

Lily shook her head. “I cannot stand watercolor.”

“You are too like your Uncle Graham,” added Mrs. Kingsley from her seat. An easel sat before her as she sent swirls of color across the paper, capturing with deft strokes the forest. “Watercolor requires patience, something I fear you both lack.”

“If the color would simply stay where I put it, I would have no qualms with the medium,” replied Lily, tossing her painting next to Phyllis and Hettie’s abandoned drawings.

But as the ladies spoke, Victoria’s thoughts strayed as Miss Banfield’s gaze rose to meet hers. Victoria’s lungs heaved, her pulse increasing as she held that young lady’s eyes. She didn’t know if it was fear or anger that sent her blood racing through her (as they were both present in equal measure), but she silently begged for everything to work out as it must. For Miss Banfield to leave Mr. Kingsley be.

The young lady had the integrity not to feign innocence over their silent battle; her complexion pinked, her eyes dropping to her sketch, though she abandoned her paintbrush and pencils on the grass beside her. Letting out a huff of air, Victoria felt little triumph at Miss Banfield’s humble posture. She could not blame the young lady for feeling as she did. Mr. Kingsley was a fine gentleman and would make a good husband. But his heart was already claimed, and she was not about to relinquish it.

For her family’s sake, Victoria couldn’t.

Making her excuses, Victoria went in search of the gentleman. Her skirts were heavy enough to be unwieldy if they were truly out in the wilds, but like most fine houses, any grounds not needed for the master’s livelihood were manicured and controlled; even the most natural looking landscape was carefully crafted and designed by the likes of Capability Brown to give all the appearance of natural beauty with only the occasional crumbling ruin, Grecian temple, or other folly hinting that man had ever touched it. Thus, the path leading into the forest was wide and clear, and easily traversable.

The woods swallowed her up, the trees looming high above and casting her in shadows as Victoria wound her way towards the river. The sounds of water rushing over rocks grew as she drew closer, but the thud of her heart against her ribcage drowned it out.

Surely Mr. Kingsley would not throw her over. Not for some lady whom he’d just met.

But even as Victoria tried to calm her frantic heartbeat, she knew only a fool would ignore the free and easy manner in which the pair conversed. In truth, Victoria had come to enjoy Miss Banfield’s company. She was well-informed yet unassuming, and though she was soft-spoken, she was neither shy nor timid.

Victoria’s steps paused and she placed her hands on her hips, throwing her head back to stare up at the leaves above. Good heavens. The lady’s personality mirrored and complemented Mr. Kingsley’s far too closely. Shaking her head, Victoria’s steps came quicker as she marched along the forest lane. A similarity of disposition did not signify that he would throw her over. Victoria and he had been courting for so long, and a gentleman did not expend that amount of effort to simply walk away.

Yet there was nothing binding Victoria and Mr. Kingsley together. An understanding, certainly, but that may not preclude him from abandoning her.

What would she do? The question bounced around her mind like an overexcited bumblebee, begging for her to answer it, yet no answer was forthcoming. What