Hearts Entwined (Victorian Love #3) - M.A. Nichols Page 0,96

upwards. “I fear I’ve lost my taste for it.”

“That is a shame, for I find gentlemen such as yourself make the best partners.” And, heaven help her, Victoria gave him a coy smile.

Head tilted to the side, Mr. Flemming examined her with knowing eyes. “I would think someone closer to your age would be more appealing.”

“Nonsense. Their conversation is always so lacking unless one wishes to discuss hunting or the bloodlines of their horses.”

Mr. Flemming crossed his arms, those intelligent eyes of his holding hers as Victoria clasped her hands to keep them from fidgeting. For several long moments, they stood there silently as she held fast to her poise with a white-knuckled grip.

A spark of a smile entered his expression, and he offered up his arm. “Dance with me, Miss Caswell.”

The pressure in her chest eased, though her insides twisted as she took the proffered limb and joined him for a waltz. Standing close to him, Victoria couldn’t help but feel as though she was dancing with her father or uncle, and with every turn, she found her gaze drifting to the crowds, wondering if Mr. Dixon was among them.

Mr. Flemming said nothing for a few steps, but then he turned his gaze to her.

“You are a forthright and intelligent creature, Miss Caswell, so I will honor that by being direct. What are you intending?”

Victoria’s mouth felt like she’d drunk sand, but she feigned a smile. “Whatever do you mean?”

With a chuckle, Mr. Flemming shook his head. “You have many talents, Miss Caswell, but coyness and flirtation are not among them.”

Gathering her courage about her, Victoria clung to the fact that he’d spoken of her forthrightness and intelligence with clear admiration and hoped he’d still find them so after this conversation.

“If you wish for a more direct approach, I will oblige,” she said with a nod. “I think I would make you the perfect wife.”

Chapter 34

Victoria had expected a look of surprise or stupefaction, but she hadn’t counted on a bark of laughter.

“I fear I’ve already had the perfect wife, Miss Caswell. And though she is gone these four years, none can hope to compare to her.”

Despite their odd conversation, Mr. Flemming did not miss a step as he guided her around the ballroom, each movement flowing into the next with a grace that spoke of someone who had spent much time on the dance floor despite his earlier reticence.

“I am not speaking of a love match, Mr. Flemming—”

“I hadn’t thought so, Miss Caswell.”

Victoria chose to overlook that comment and continued, “Your political career would benefit from a wife to assist with the social aspects of your duties, and I assure you I am more than capable of fulfilling that role. To say nothing of the possibility of an heir. And I would gain a husband and the security that comes with that. It would be beneficial to us both.”

Mr. Flemming gave a choking laugh. “It appears you’ve thought of everything.”

“Do not mock me, sir,” she said with a frown.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with an arched brow. “But you overlook a crucial detail.”

When he did not offer it up freely, Victoria prodded him with a silent raise of her brows.

“You are in love with Elijah Dixon.”

Victoria stumbled, and only Mr. Flemming’s skill and strength stopped her from tumbling to the floor. With a quick turn, he covered her misstep and kept her upright as she fought to regain her footing. When she was certain she would not take another tumble, Victoria turned back to the subject at hand, and though a denial came to her lips, she could not speak that lie. Like everyone, she had much in her life to be ashamed of, but Victoria could not bring herself to add that sin to her repertoire. She could not betray Mr. Dixon in that manner.

Besides, it would do little good for her to feign ignorance, as it was clear from Mr. Flemming’s expression that he knew far more than she’d anticipated.

“My dear wife and I were never blessed with children, a fact that caused us both much pain in our younger years. However, I learned long ago that the mantle of fatherhood is one that can be donned regardless of our childless state.” Mr. Flemming’s words were sad, but he spoke them with a brightness of spirit one would not expect from such a mournful subject. There was a peace and acceptance in his gaze that Victoria longed to snatch up for herself. “Both Mrs.