“Oh, Victoria.” There was a world of anguish in those two words.

“I have made lovely friends, too. I truly enjoy the time I spend in the dress shop. And no one makes any decisions for me.” She shrugged helplessly. “They are simple pleasures, but they are dear to me, and I don't want to upset the balance.”

“I had no idea,” he whispered. “No idea.”

“How could you?” Her words were not a retort, but a real and honest question. “You have always had complete control over your life. You have always been able to do whatever you wanted.” Her lips curved into a wistful smile. “You and your plans. I always loved that about you.”

His eyes flew to her face. He doubted that she even realized she'd used the word “love.”

“The way you would attack a problem,” she continued, her eyes growing nostalgic. “It was always so much fun to watch. You examined the situation from all four sides, and then from the top and the bottom and upside down and inside out. You would find the shortest route to a solution, and then you went and did it. You always figured out how to get what you wanted.”

“Except you.”

His words hung in the air for a long minute. Victoria looked away, and then finally she said, “I must be getting to work.”

“Let me take you.”

“No.” Her voice sounded odd, as if she might cry. “I don't think that is a good idea.”

“Victoria, please don't make me worry about you. I have never felt so helpless in all my life.”

She turned to him with wise eyes. “I felt helpless for seven years. Now I'm in control. Please don't take that away from me.” Straightening her shoulders, she began to walk to the dress shop.

Robert waited until she was about ten feet away and then began to follow her. MacDougal waited until Robert was about twenty feet away and then began to follow him in the carriage.

All in all, it was a strange and solemn procession to Madame Lambert's

Victoria was kneeling before a dressmaker's dummy with three pins lodged between her teeth when the bell over the door rang at noon. She looked up.

Robert. She wondered why she was surprised. He was holding a box in his hands and had a familiar look on his face. Victoria knew that look. He was up to something. He'd probably spent the entire morning making plans.

He crossed the room until he was standing next to her. “Good day, Victoria,” he said with a genial smile. “I must say you look rather frightening with pins hanging from your mouth like fangs.”

Victoria found herself wanting to take one of those “fangs” and jab him with it. “Not frightening enough,” she muttered.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Robert, why are you here? I thought we reached an understanding this morning.”

“We did.”

“Then why are you here?” she ground out.

He crouched beside her. “I think we reached different understandings.”

What on earth was he talking about? “Robert, I'm very busy,” she said.

“I brought you a gift,” he said, holding out the box.

“I cannot accept a gift from you.”

He grinned. “It's edible.”

Victoria's traitorous stomach began to rumble. With a muttered curse she turned her back to him and began to attack the hemline of the gown she'd been working on.

“Mmmmm,” Robert said tantalizingly. He opened the box and waved the contents before her. “Pastries.”

Victoria's mouth watered. Pastries. Her biggest weakness. She supposed it would have been too much to hope that he'd forgotten.

“I made sure to get the kind without nuts,” he said.

No nuts? The man never forgot a detail, blast him. Victoria looked up to see Katie craning her neck, examining the pastries over Robert's shoulder. Katie was eyeing the sweets with an expression that could only be called intense longing. Victoria didn't imagine that Katie often had occasion to partake of delicacies from London's most exclusive confectioner.

Victoria smiled at Robert and accepted the box. “Thank you,” she said politely. “Katie? Would you like one?”

Katie was at her side in less than a second. Victoria handed her the entire box and went back to work on the hemline, trying to ignore the scent of chocolate that now pervaded the room.

Robert pulled up a chair and sat beside her. “That gown would look lovely on you,” he said.

“Alas,” Victoria replied, viciously jabbing a pin into the material, “but it is spoken for by a countess.”

“I would tell you that I would buy you one just like it, but I don't think that would win me any points in my favor.”

“How astute of you, my lord.”

“You're annoyed with me,” he stated.

Victoria's head swiveled slowly around until she faced him. “You noticed.”

“Is it because you thought you'd rid yourself of me this morning?”

“It was a hope.”

“You're eager for your life to return to normal.”

Victoria let out a funny little sound that was part laugh, part sigh, and part snort. “You seem to be exceedingly proficient at stating the obvious.”

“Hmmm.” Robert scratched his head, looking for all the world like a man deep in thought. “Your logic is flawed.”

Victoria didn't bother to reply.

“You see, you think this is normal.”

Victoria jabbed a few more pins into the hemline, realized that her irritation was making her careless, and had to pull them out and reposition them.

“But this isn't a normal life. How could it be? You've only lived it for a month.”