On Monday morning, Victoria stood in her foyer, slipping her hands into a pair of fur-lined black leather gloves. Her dark gray wool coat had a black fox fur collar and cuffs and was fastened up to her neck. She secured her wide-brimmed hat on her head with tulle tied into a big bow under her chin. All ready to go.
Foster and Neil waited outside as Graham rode up the lane. The door opened, and Foster ushered her daily warden inside while Neil took care of his horse.
Graham eyed her. “Are you going somewhere?”
“We are going into Boston where I will be visiting Mrs. Marshall’s School of Graces for Ladies, the Bancroft Finishing and Boarding School for Young Girls, and the Auckland Private School.”
“We are going to all those places in one day?”
“That’s just the morning. We’ll lunch at the Majestic Hotel Dining Room before heading to the Catholic School for Girls and Madame Lafayette’s Etiquette and Manners for Young Girls. I need to pick up a hat I ordered at Hampton’s Millinery.” His surprised expression was endearing, but she would not allow herself to giggle or even smile. “Finally, afternoon tea at the Lindens’, where Mr. Peter Strausberg will be present, which should make you happy. Then, back here for a light supper.”
He raised his eyebrows nearly to his hairline. “You have everything arranged, I see.”
He didn’t expect she would let him dictate her every move when Mr. Frye had said he was at her beck and call? “I have included both employment options as well as seen to the provisos of the will. If I am to take the time to go all the way into Boston, I must use the trip prudently.”
“And you have leaned more heavily toward the employment side of things,” Graham said.
“One doesn’t want to seem too eager where gentlemen are concerned, lest one be considered wanton.”
Foster stood ready at the door. “Are you sure you don’t want Pierce to drive?”
“We’ll be fine. You and the staff can rest and enjoy the day. I will need nothing from any of you until supper.”
“Very good.” Foster opened the door.
Graham rushed to her side to escort her out. He stopped short on the bottom step.
She turned to face him. “Is something wrong?”
“You have a horseless carriage?”
“We prefer ‘automobile,’ and we have two. This 1905 Cameron Runabout, as you can see, seats two. And a larger Buick model that seats four, two front and two back, with a canvas top for inclement weather. It isn’t technically mine but my uncle’s. Shall we?”
“I don’t …” He stared at the yellow vehicle. “I’ve never …”
“You don’t have to. I’m driving.”
“You know how to drive?”
Though automobiles were still a new trend—one people said would pass—her uncle had bought the Buick last year after Victoria had cooed over the idea. She had bribed Pierce, the chauffeur, to teach her to drive it. This year her uncle had bought the smaller Runabout. “Yes. I am a thoroughly modern lady.” She walked to the driver’s side and waited for him to assist her.
He hurried to her side. “Not thoroughly modern.”
She supposed not if she expected him to lend her a hand, as she had.
He helped her in and climbed in the other side. “Are you sure you don’t want the chauffeur to drive?”
“If you’re afraid, you don’t have to come with me.”
He settled his gaze forward.
Men could not bear to have their masculinity questioned.
Pierce stepped in front of the automobile and turned the crank. The engine started straight away. The chauffeur came to Graham’s side. “No need to worry, sir. I taught her myself. She knows how to handle her. I wouldn’t let her go if she couldn’t.”
The pallor of Graham’s face told her he wasn’t convinced.
Though tempted to drive fast and recklessly—but within control—to really shake him up, she would be considerate and drive with caution. She didn’t want him to think poorly of her or find her unappealing. Easing the vehicle forward, she headed down the lane.
Graham’s skepticism had quickly faded, and he’d been impressed with Victoria’s driving ability. She had command of the vehicle and didn’t drive irresponsibly. He could see where one of these novelties could be fun for a time. But with their unreliability, they would likely never truly replace horses as some people had suggested. The wind created at motoring speeds made the cool fall air downright chilly. He had struggled not to visibly shiver.
Victoria had gone to the five schools on her list, leaving her notice of intent to teach. The matrons at each were surprised she wished to work, three of them assuming her offer was as unpaid charity help. Each, excited at the prospect of having such an influential lady in their school, said they would contact her soon. She would have employment in no time, at this rate.
He supposed it didn’t matter if she gained employment or married. Either way, his duty would be done. He settled on that uneasy thought for a moment. No. Either way his duty wouldn’t be completed until the final portion of the will was executed.
Having everything settled for Miss Dewitt sat better with him. That did mean spending more time with her, but he could tolerate that. It was only three months, after all. Well, now two and a half months. Had two weeks already flown by?
His stomach tightened when she stopped the automobile in front of a stately home half the size of hers. Patricia and Monique Linden would be after his attentions. He needed to focus on Victoria and her success in inheriting her uncle’s estate, not be distracted by frivolous ladies and nonsense. He would need to see if he could strike a deal with Victoria to dispense with entertaining the ladies—an unnecessary stipulation. In exchange for his freedom, he could start helping her in her employment search.
Before the butler or footman could help Victoria, Graham jumped out and rounded the vehicle. He wanted to assist her. It was his duty, after all.
Servants led them through the front door.
The Linden sisters fluttered to him, taking his coat, hat, and gloves. Then they ushered him into the parlor where they sat him on the sofa and plunked themselves down on each side. Monique launched into her litany of all her sister’s finer points. She really wanted to get her sister married so she could wed.
Peter Strausberg escorted Victoria in and seated her in a chair. He sat in one positioned far too close to her.
Taking care of Miss Dewitt was Graham’s responsibility.
The butler entered the room. “Croquet is set up on the back lawn.”
Monique fairly jumped to her feet. “Since it is such a nice day, we thought we would play croquet. You all go on out while I supervise afternoon tea preparations.” She let her gaze flicker between Graham and her sister before she fluttered away.
Having only one sister assigned to him, Graham breathed easier. He rose and offered Patricia Linden his arm. He wished it were Victoria who accepted his assistance, but Mr. Strausberg already had possession of her.
When not in the open automobile with the chilly breeze buffeting one’s face, the afternoon was pleasant indeed. Croquet would be a nice way to occupy the time where he didn’t have to struggle to keep up his end of the conversation.
The trees had metamorphosed from their spring and summer greens to vibrant autumn plumage. But even in this colorful expanse with the green grass below the colorful trees and the blue sky above, Victoria, clad in black, stood out like a prized rose. After a moment, he drew in a breath, realizing he had forgotten to breathe.
Each participant chose a color, and the game was in play.
Victoria had no problem knocking Strausberg’s ball far off course. But when Graham had the opportunity to do the same with Miss Patricia Linden’s, he tapped it lightly. She smiled at him, blinking briskly as though she had specks of dirt in her eyes she was trying overly hard to extricate. Maybe he should rethink his strategy and play more ruthlessly.
The next time Victoria’s ball hit Strausberg’s, Graham said in a low voice, “Let the man win.”
Victoria placed her booted foot on her ball. “You wish for me to lose on purpose? Whatever for?”
“Men don’t like to lose. Especially to a lady. It will put him off.”
“I see.” She batted her eyelashes and let her mallet hover a couple of inches from her ball, lining up her shot.
Good. A nice gentle tap.
She drew in a deep breath, heaved the mallet far over her shoulder, and swung hard.
Graham winced in fear she would strike her own foot.
Clack!
Strausberg’s ball sailed across the yard, almost stopped at the crest of a small rise, and rolled down the slope. His eyes narrowed and his lips thinned as he huffed and puffed after it.
Victoria smiled at Graham. “Silly me. I guess I hit it harder than I thought.”
“You knew exactly what you were doing. Why would you do that to the poor man? He was one of the stronger candidates.”
“Maybe to you. This lets me see what kind of a man he is and whether I could be married to him for the rest of my life.”
He wanted to be mad at her and scold her, but her impish smile got the better of him and disallowed any negative feelings or thoughts.