She turned away, not wanting him to see the emotion welling up in her eyes.

“Someday you will realize what it means to be loved.” He let out a weary sigh. “I just wish it would be soon.”

Victoria pondered that statement the rest of the way to Whitsable.

They stopped to eat at a cheerful inn with outdoor dining. Robert scanned the sky and said, “It looks as if it might rain, but not, I think, in the next hour. Would you like to eat outside?”

She offered him a tentative smile. “The sun feels lovely.”

Robert took her arm and escorted her to a little table with a view of the water. He was feeling very optimistic. He sensed that he had somehow gotten through to her in their conversation in the carriage. She wasn't ready yet to admit that she loved him, but he thought she might be a bit closer to it than she'd been the day before.

“The village of Whitsable has been famous for its oysters since the time of the Romans,” he said as they sat down.

She plucked at her napkin with nervous fingers. “Really?”

“Yes. I don't know why we never came here when we were courting.”

She smiled ruefully. “My father wouldn't have allowed it. And it would have been a long drive to the north Kent coast.”

“Do you ever wonder what our lives might be like if we'd married seven years ago?”

Her eyes slid to her lap. “All the time,” she whispered.

“We certainly would have dined here already,” he said. “I wouldn't have let seven years go by without a meal of fresh oysters.”

She didn't say anything.

“I would imagine we would have already had a child. Perhaps two or three.” Robert knew he was being a touch cruel. Despite Victoria's distaste for the life of a governess, she had a maternal streak a mile wide. He was purposefully tugging on her heartstrings by mentioning the children they might have had together.

“Yes,” she said, “you're probably correct.”

She looked so forlorn that Robert didn't have the heart to continue. He planted a bright smile on his face and said, “Oysters, I understand, are supposed to have certain amorous properties.”

“I'm sure you would like to believe that.” Victoria looked visibly relieved that he'd changed the subject, even though the new topic was beyond racy.

“No, no, it's considered common knowledge.”

“Much of what is considered common knowledge has no basis in fact,” she countered.

“A good point. Being of a scientific bent myself, I don't like to accept anything as true unless it has been subjected to rigorous experimentation.”

Victoria chuckled.

“In fact,” Robert said, tapping his fork against the tablecloth, “I think that an experiment might be just the thing.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “What are you proposing?”

“Simply that you eat some oysters this afternoon. Then I shall monitor you most closely”—he wiggled his eyebrows in a comical manner—” to see if you appear to like me any better.”

Victoria laughed. She couldn't help herself. “Robert,” she said, aware that she was beginning to enjoy herself despite her best intentions to remain a grouch, “that is the most harebrained scheme I have ever heard.”

“Perhaps, but even if it doesn't work, I shall certainly enjoy the monitoring.”

She laughed again. “Just as long as you don't partake of the oysters yourself. If you ‘like’ me any better, I may find myself being carted off to France.”

“Now there is a thought.” He pretended to give the matter serious consideration. “Ramsgate is a continental port, after all. I wonder if one can be married faster in France.”

“Don't even think about it,” she warned.

“My father would probably have a fit of apoplexy were I to be married in a Catholic ceremony,” he mused. “We Kembles have always been rather militantly Protestant.”

“Oh, goodness,” Victoria said, tears of mirth forming in her eyes. “Can you imagine what my father would do? The good vicar of Bellfield? He would expire on the spot. I'm sure of it.”

“He'd insist on remarrying us himself,” Robert said. “And Eleanor would probably charge admission.”

Victoria's face softened. “Oh, Ellie. I do miss her.”

“Haven't you had a chance to visit with her?” Robert sat back to allow the innkeeper to place a platter of oysters on the table.

Victoria shook her head. “Not since—well, you know. But we write to each other regularly. She is the same as ever. She said she spoke to you.”

“Yes, it was a rather serious conversation, but I could see that she was still completely irrepressible.”

“Oh, indeed. Do you know what she did with the money she fleeced out of you when we were courting?”

“No, what?”

“First she invested it in an interest-bearing account. Then, when she decided that she ought to be getting a better rate of return on her money, she studied the financial papers of the Times and began investing in stocks.”

Robert laughed out loud as he put some oysters on a plate for Victoria. “Your sister never ceases to amaze me. I thought women weren't usually allowed to trade on the 'change.”

Victoria shrugged. “She tells her man of business that she is acting on my father's behalf. I believe she said that Papa is something of a recluse and won't leave the house.”

Robert was laughing so hard he had to set down the oyster he was about to eat. “Your father would have her head if he knew she was spreading such tales.”