Two days later Victoria stood on the Duke of Westley's doorstep. She resisted the urge to run, at least not without spitting on it first. He had cleverly orchestrated her arrival at his home and she couldn't help but wonder if Mohammed had possessed the duke's deviousness the mountain might well have moved.

She knocked the sturdy door twice and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other in full view of the ambling ton around Grosvenor Square. If Aunt Beatrice were not at her side it would have been a most scandalous business to parade oneself on the porch of a known bachelor. Her Aunt however, was having a most glorious time wearing a pink floral bonnet and a wide smile. If the other day in Hyde Park was anything to go by, Victoria's well-meaning relation would find a tear in her dress about five minutes into the meeting and disappear for the next ten. Victoria groaned inwardly. It really was pathetic to pretend that she was somehow still on the Marriage Mart, but she had a wager to win and if she had to parade around town for a day or two, then so be it.

The door swung open to an impeccable Lady Summerton wearing a daffodil yellow morning dress with matching lace parasol in hand. Victoria's mouth dropped open. It was unlikely for one of the most influential members of the ton to be receiving them at her adopted son's home, and even more unfathomable that she should answer his door while doing so.

"How wonderful to see you both. I was just on my way out for a spot of sunshine while waiting for you, but now that you have arrived why don't we go in for some tea? I think it might rain anyhow." She smiled and stepped back to allow their admittance.

Victoria saw not a single cloud in the sky. She did however see the Countess of Rosebery smile oddly at her as she passed by with several old dames making their morning rounds. Lady Summerton had swiftly but surely given her mark of approval to the match by simply standing in a doorway. By mid-morning every member of the ton would be privy to the news. Victoria huffed and flung a long blond lock of hair across her shoulder.

"Would you care for some assistance?" The Westley butler queried from across the threshold.

"No, thank you." Victoria pasted a smile on her face and followed him inside the house behind her Aunt and their hostess. Each one of them happily pretending that Lady Summerton wasn't just hovering behind the door waiting for their scheduled arrival with a ready excuse and a smile.

They were led to a pale mustard sitting room that complemented Lady Summerton's gown and afforded a good view of the road should anyone care to look out, or in for that matter.

"Please, sit," Lady Summerton offered, pouring the tea. "I am so glad that you could come. I was sorry to miss you the other night Mrs Thompson but Anthony tells me that your husband has taken ill."

"Oh, yes, my lady," Aunt Beatrice bobbed in her seat. "He is vastly thankful for the Duke of Westley's kind offer to supply him with some herbs for a tincture."

"Yes, Anthony is always so attentive and the late Duchess always kept an excellent herb garden. I like to keep it going in the spirit of her love for the pastime but I often find myself quite out of my depth."

"Victoria is an excellent amateur botanist." Aunt Beatrice left the statement hanging in the air until it sounded more like a suggestion.

Victoria tried not to roll her eyes. They had both a garden and a gardener, however would they combine the two? But she sealed her lips and stayed silent to their machinations. She was but a wallflower in the drawing room of a duke. Such women were not meant to speak, and despite the duke's games his Aunt would not expect otherwise.

Unexpectedly Lady Summerton's eyes grew soft. "Yes, so was Anthony's mother. She passed so long ago and yet I am still left wishing for her assistance. You can both understand, I am sure. The sadness at losing a loved one never really fades."

It was a highly uncommon occurrence for a British woman of nobility to offer any true emotion but Victoria appreciated the candour and it made her bold enough to emerge from her cocoon.

"There is not a day that goes by that I do not think of my parents. And yet as sad as I am at their loss I am also grateful for my Aunt in the very same measure."

"Yes." Lady Summerton beamed. "I know that Anthony is not truly mine, but Lord Summerton and I have never had any children of our own, and we are so proud to consider him our son."

"You love him." Aunt Beatrice stated quietly and the two older woman shared a moment as only carers of orphaned children could know. There's was a precarious bond. Not quite mother, but still something more than aunt.

It was at that moment that the Duke of Westley deigned to greet his guests.

"So much solitude for one morning. What is this silence?" He strolled in and took a seat on the arm of his adopted mother's chair, pressing his lips lightly to her cheek in greeting.

"We were merely becoming better acquainted, darling." Lady Summerton grinned. "Would you care for some tea?"

He nodded and moved to take a seat on the love chair next to Victoria.

Victoria suddenly understood why her Aunt had chosen to sit in the furthest seat from her own niece. One wrong move with a boy in the dark and now everyone wanted to help push her about the board like a wayward pawn. She sighed deeply and caught a whiff of the musky scent of the duke's cologne. She hated that she enjoyed the way it teased her nostrils with notes of cinnamon and bergamot.

"Oh dear," Lady Summerton exclaimed. "I had wanted to offer you some of our Cook's fresh butter biscuits. They really are quite amazing. I had the Duchess of Bexley give me her recipe. It took an age to convince the dear woman I would do it justice. She really has the best baked goods in all of London. Who knows what other secrets she keeps locked in that pantry?"

"That sounds delightful, my lady. I should have loved to try them." Aunt Beatrice smiled widely and Victoria should have known that her dear relative was up to something, because the next words the Countess of Summerton uttered were so obviously orchestrated that Victoria inhaled her tea.

"Perhaps I should go and see what is causing the delay."

"Would you care for some company? I would like a chance to obtain my own recipe if your Cook is willing." Aunt Beatrice pressed congenially while ignoring Victoria spluttering inside her tea cup.

"It is unlikely that she is willing to share, but worth the try, if you care to." Lady Summerton laughed.

The two women exited the sitting room for an errand that could easily have been remedied by the pull of a single bell.

"So it begins," Victoria sighed. She turned to the duke lounging next to her, nibbling on a cucumber sandwich. "How much did you pay her to put on that unconvincing scene?"

"Not much at all." He grinned. It felt good to sit in the sun filled room with her, regardless of the scowl upon her face. "She wanted to be present to meet you and it worked out splendidly because you really couldn't be seen coming over any other way."

Victoria frowned, ignoring the way his jacket gaped open as he reclined to reveal a shirt stretched tight over taught muscles. What on earth was he doing over in the Orient to get those?

"Lady Summerton has met me several times, not to mention two days ago for the ball which she invited me to."

"Yes, Diamond," the Duke of Westley drawled as he placed another sandwich against full lips, chewing slowly as if the act of mastication was a sensual one. "But, now you are different."

"You mean, now I am prey."

"I have always enjoyed the hunt." He leaned forward with a wicked grin.

"I have been hunted before, Your Grace. I did not enjoy the experience." Victoria shifted pointedly away from him and stared out at the wandering ton passing by the large bay windows.

"That is because you have not been hunted by me." The Duke of Westley calmly unfurled his body to walk towards the open door and shut it with a defiant click. "You know, we haven't sealed our bargain as yet."

Victoria's eyes widened. "You can't mean to attempt to kiss me in broad daylight, Your Grace."

"Stop 'Your Gracing' me, Diamond. Feel free to call me Anthony when we are in private." The slow grin of a lothario effused his face.

"We are most certainly not in private." Victoria flicked her gaze to the open windows while holding her body perfectly still.

"We could always give them a show?" Anthony winked at her from across the room.

"I have already been ruined by a kiss once, thank you," she huffed.

"Ah, but you can only be ruined by such a thing if marriage does not follow shortly after. I am offering a lifetime of bliss over here." He remarked nonchalantly as he sauntered back to her side.

Victoria rolled her eyes. "No thank you. Men of your kind are unlikely to select a wife from the category of spinster. I am certain you will tire of this game before the week is out."

"How about if I were to propose right now?" The duke dropped to one knee before her and she dared not look at the ton tripping over in the streets to her right.

"Get off your knees this instant," she ordered.

"There will be a day that you will rue the loss of me at your knees." He gave her a look that seared her skin with its fire. She had no idea why a woman would want a man seated in front of her, but if his gaze was anything to go by, it was likely to be carnal. Still, she was having a devil of a time trying to understand the implication let alone the logistics.

Anthony made a show of both dropping and retrieving his pocket watch from the floor and tucking it back into his jacket to appease any peeping eyes before taking the seat opposite her this time. After their kiss in the study it was a struggle not to touch her but sitting just out of arms reach did not help either. She was a vision in a soft turquoise gown that gave the impression of suppleness beneath. And yet there was no hiding her strong jaw or long toned legs that clung to the cloth. She would fight him with her duality every step of the way and it was a pleasurable torment to be faced with.

The Orient had scarred him. He had done terrible things and it had made him a very wealthy man, but Victoria offered the opportunity for change. She made him smile and what's more she made him laugh. For a man who lived and breathed the sweet scent of opium for half a decade she was a breath of fresh air. He always knew he would have to get married to carry on his family name but with Victoria seated in front of him it was more than just an abstract thought. It was a balm for her and him that he hadn't thought possible. Something that could soothe the pain of the past.

She had been the toast of the ton. Beautiful in ways he could only dream. He knew that she had fancied him but he was young too and with the grand stretch of life before them neither seemed hurried to consider a walk down the aisle. Well, at least he never did. He supposed in some dim corner of his mind he would have always chosen her but it always seemed inevitable that it would come down to a bare knuckled fight to win her from her bevy of admirers. But life had treated her cruelly and someone who should have been a crowning jewel was left to collect dust in the intemperate libraries of the ton.

Perhaps he didn't deserve her after all that he had done, but he was never one to play the hand he had been dealt with equanimity. It mattered not whether he was worthy of her, simply that he wanted her. She need not know his history. Here, in London, he was simply a duke of means, and he meant to have her.

"What are you smiling about" Victoria eyed him warily

"You." His lips curled further.

"I shouldn't see why my presence should make you smile. I am going to win our wager, Your Grace. And I won't need the whole Season to achieve it."

"Reallly?" he drawled.

"You think so? But we have not even ventured into the garden yet and that is the reason you came."

"I came here, Your Grace, because you made certain that I could not refuse. And our scheming Aunts have managed to disappear in the hope that you will trip and propose marriage as you fall."

"Already did that." He smirked.

"You think it's a joke don't you?" Victoria bit her nails into the plush damask arm rest. "That my position in society is something to toy with? Well, let me tell you Your Grace, I have already been toyed with once and I didn't appreciate it. The consequences have been rather devastating."

The duke sobered considerable and stared at her with close and careful consideration. "You are going to have to let that story go someday."

"Pardon me?" Victoria was quick to take offense.

"That, is a story that you have been telling yourself for several years now. Is it really the same story you want to be telling in another five or ten years, about how a man wronged you?" The duke held up a palm to pause her anger before it boiled over the edge of the proverbial pot. "I know what happened was awful. Beyond awful. It was horrifying that he could have really hurt you, but at least all he hurt was your reputation. The true tragedy is if you let that fool from your past write your future."

Victoria wanted to be angry. She wanted to rale and scream at him for the injustice of the situation because a reputation was all a woman had. But that wasn't true. She had her body, her mind, her dreams and her desires. Andrew had never stripped any of those from her. She wasn't blind, she knew that he could have laid her down and forced himself upon her and inside her. She was lucky. And that's the thing, she had never thought that there would ever be a moment that she would remember that night in the shadowed garden and consider herself lucky. Her voice caught in her throat, tangled like a kite in a tree. She knew at her core that she was worthy of a better life. What if she started to seize it?

"Think on it, Diamond," he whispered as the exaggerated bustling of their aunt's grew closer before the door swung open in a slow enough arc to restore decency to any amorous couple.

Anthony hadn't touched her body, but he had certainly rattled her mind. Think on it, he had said. She doubted that she would be able to think about anything else.

A/N:

Dear Readers! It has been an age since I dipped into the minds of Victoria and Anthony but it has been a welcome break from Persuasion in the Pantry. I hope you enjoyed the sneaky mention of the Duchess of Bexley :)

Let me know what you think about this chapter. Any ideas for how Anthony could pull Victoria out of the shadows and back into the light of London's ballrooms?

xx Inara