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“Yes, of course.” Maggie agreed, although her attention was already on other matters as she instructed women to clean something off the floor in another room.

“Maggie, can I speak with you?” Victoria asked as Gertrude rushed away. The idea that she had played with in her mind before was now fully formed and ready for execution.

“Of course, of course. Anything.”

“I’ve been thinking for a while now that I would like to do more to help you.”

“But you’re already doing so much.”

“Yes, but ever since Helen hired Abbey from this shelter to be her companion and maid, I was thinking of doing the same. And now that I run my own household”—she grimaced, as it wasn’t so much a household as a… towerhold?—“I have the opportunity to do so. I don’t need a live-in maid, but I need some help with cleaning and cooking, and once a week, I need a maid to help with dressing me and my hair for a social occasion.”

Maggie clapped her hands together. “Our maidens would be thrilled to work for you! Oh, this would be wonderful.”

“And perhaps it would inspire other ladies to hire women from this shelter. Of course, we would need to train them, but I don’t think it will be a problem.”

“A marvelous idea! Simply marvelous!” Maggie exclaimed. “Who would you like to employ? Do you have a person in mind?”

Victoria nodded. “I think I would like to take Gertrude. She is already acting as an assistant here at the shelter. I think it would do her well to venture out once in a while.” And see Matthew on a more regular basis.

“Oh, I shall tell her right away—”

Victoria halted Maggie with a gentle hand on her arm. “I would like to do it myself if you don’t mind.”

“Absolutely, she would love to hear from you directly.” Maggie immediately turned away. The shelter always had things to do, and Maggie rarely sat in one place for long.

Invigorated by her new mission, Victoria went down to the kitchen. But instead of walking inside, she stood on the threshold, observing the women interacting with her driver and the guards. She didn’t want to intrude. A flirtatious atmosphere was palpable, but it was Gertrude and Matthew who caught her attention. They were in deep conversation with each other. Gertrude, although a grown woman, acted like a young girl in love, giggling and chattering with avid enthusiasm. Matthew was just as engrossed in the conversation, so much so that neither of them noticed anything going on in the room around them, both sporting flushed cheeks and timid smiles.

Victoria smiled as she watched the young couple, remembering with fondness the feeling of absolute bliss that the new feeling of love brought.

I shall talk to them later, she decided and slowly backed out of the kitchen, giving the lovebirds some time to themselves.

Victoria returned home that day in a lovely mood. Matthew held the door for her as she entered, followed by two grooms who held her gifts in their arms. “Just set them down on the armchair by the hearth,” she said as she walked toward the staircase only to stop in the center of the room. Something was different with the kitchen today. It seemed bare—barer than usual, if that was even possible. The grooms paused a few feet into the room, looking around in confusion. “Which chair do you wish us to set the items on, Princess?” one of them asked timidly. Victoria turned around the room slowly, her mind refusing to comprehend the situation. And when it finally dawned on her what had happened, fury washed up her face.

“Just leave them on the floor,” she said with a tight smile and waited patiently for the men to exit the tower. When the door had closed after them, Victoria dashed up the stairs in hopes of finding her wretched husband in the bedroom. He was not there, but there was a faint whistle coming from the dressing room. For some reason, it made her even angrier. He dared to whistle happily in the dressing room, no doubt rejoicing in light of his little scheme. Victoria stormed inside, not bothering to knock since he did not deserve the courtesy and immediately yelled, “What did you do to my chair?”

It didn’t take her long to finally notice her husband. William was lying inside the copper tub, his torso and knees sticking out of the water, a sponge in his hand, paused in the act of gliding up his arm. His hair was slick with water, his lips still pursed mid-whistle. He blinked innocently. “It was in the way.”

Victoria gasped. His nonchalant answer just made her even angrier than before. “You threw it away because it was in the way? In the way of what, exactly?”

Still paused in the act of bathing, he narrowed his eyes as if thinking of something nefarious—as if he was ever not thinking about something nefarious—then nodded to himself and continued washing, his hand rubbing his shoulder and up his neck. “In the way of our intimate life.”

“We have no intimate life!” Victoria cried. How could he be so unbothered by her distress? “And getting rid of the only piece of furniture I enjoyed in this damned house will make certain there will never be any intimacy between us.”

“Fine…” he said, not meeting her eyes but very concentrated on washing himself. “Then it’s the punishment I promised you for kissing Porter.”

“You… you knave!” Not finding anything else to say or do, Victoria whirled on her heels and stalked into the bedroom. She paused in the middle of the room, desperately trying to find anything she could do to ruffle her husband’s unbothered demeanor. Water sloshed in the dressing room, and then the sounds of wet footsteps against the bare floor warned her of her husband’s arrival. She turned toward him, only to see him standing in the doorway, water cascading down his naked form.

Victoria’s gaze roamed along his body, unsure where to rest her eyes. One place, in particular, drew her attention, but she tried her best to look anywhere but there.

She had been married to William for over two years. They’d courted for a few weeks before that, and they had been living together for the past two weeks. Yet, this was the first time she had ever seen him naked. And the view was… unsettling, to say the least.

If she’d ever thought him handsome, which she obviously had, now she was completely captivated by the raw, rugged perfection of his exposed physique.

She would have been lying if she said she had never imagined what he would look like naked, but what she saw before her defied all her expectations.

William’s bronzed skin glowed like warm honey, his sinewy muscles rippling with each subtle movement, showcasing the strength beneath his flawless exterior. His bare chest was sculpted muscle and smooth skin dusted with fine golden hair. As he crossed his arms, his biceps flexing enticingly, it drew her eyes to his powerful shoulders and lean, muscular forearms.

His body told a tale of grueling physical labor, not only from the sheer strength he exuded but also from the scars and marks mapped across his skin. Pale scars crisscrossed his shoulders and arms, mingled with darker bruises and fresh scrapes. A ragged, knotted gash on his side spoke of a violent past. Barely visible, thin silver tracks of old wounds hinted at childhood horrors best forgotten. Yet, for all their hardened memories, the scars could not undermine the vital power of the man standing before her now.