Hearts Entwined (Victorian Love #3) - M.A. Nichols Page 0,83

in which she had attempted to destroy the Kingsleys’ marriage. In such a situation, words would do nothing to correct Mama’s opinion, so there was only one course of action left to her.

Getting to her feet, Sophie abandoned her book and the ladies. Tossing behind a scant farewell, she fled the parlor. She may not be able to mount a proper defense for Mrs. Kingsley, but neither did she need to be party to such a discussion.

***

With arms rigid at her side, Victoria marched down the hallways, trying to sort out what she should do and what she could do when the sound of male voices carried to her ears. Pausing outside an open doorway, Victoria heard the impassioned debate that always followed Mr. Flemming and the rest of the political set. Her feet pulled her towards it, her heart begging her to set aside her burden temporarily and join the others in the study. A few hours of lively debate was precisely what she needed.

But before she stepped through the threshold, an all-too-familiar pair of light blue eyes met hers. The others were likely gathered closer to the desk, out of her line of sight, but Elijah sat in an overstuffed armchair at the edge of the room, framed in the doorway.

Those eyes of his! They held her captive, filling Victoria with all the love of his heart—and she knew just how great that was. His expression gave no other sign of his thoughts, but she felt him in her mind, whispering those tender words and promises; like a bellows, they fanned the flames in her heart.

And yet…

Mama’s voice crept into her thoughts, speaking of futures and finances. Miriam’s own joined in, begging Victoria not to condemn her and their sisters to penury. They doused the fire, leaving Victoria’s heart wrung out.

Elijah’s eyes dimmed, sensing exactly where her thoughts had led her. Victoria’s chin trembled, and she turned away from that temptation, hurrying down the hall as she forced herself to remember that which was most important: her family needed her. And Victoria knew precisely where she ought to be.

***

With quick steps, Sophie returned to her bedchamber and fetched her satchel. The skies had cleared enough for her to venture forth, and she couldn’t stand the thought of being trapped inside a moment longer. Rushing out into the gardens, Sophie wound her way through the grounds and escaped into the countryside.

They had no plans to meet up this afternoon, but Sophie’s feet wandered to their usual haunts, her eyes hunting the landscape for any sign of Mr. Kingsley. He’d become such a stickler for propriety, she doubted he would be waiting out there, hoping to chance upon her, but a young lady could dream.

The clouds above her were breaking, the sunlight streaming through in great shafts that colored the fields in mottled gold. The remnant rain and dew were drying, though the edges of her skirt and petticoats were wet with them, and the chill morning was giving way to a warm afternoon.

But Sophie did not remark the gorgeous coloring of the landscape or the golden edges of the clouds (though it was truly remarkable). She did not notice the pair of birds pecking at the grass as she passed. Nor the butterfly that took flight when she strayed too close to its resting place. For there, on the crest of the hill, stood Mr. Kingsley.

Though a fair distance away, she knew him in an instant. The sunlight highlighted the reddish hue to his brown hair, and a smile broke across his face when he caught sight of her. Raising a hand in greeting, he jogged down the hill, his steps outpacing her own. For all of Mama’s warnings about displaying too much eagerness, Sophie could not restrain herself—especially when he made no effort to hide his feelings.

“Miss Sophie,” he said, stopping just short of her. Sophie would rather have thrown herself into his arms, and the fellow gave her an appraising look that hinted he felt the same. Instead, he took her hand in his, bowing low over it as though she were a noblewoman in court. With no one else to witness it, he pressed his lips to her knuckles and then straightened, weaving her arm through his.

“Mr. Kingsley,” she said, her greeting far breathier than intended.

“I have come to issue an invitation,” he said, leading her back the way he’d come. With a questioning raise of her brows, Sophie prompted him to continue. “I have a