Author's Note: For reader Primarca, who wanted to see a scene where Victoria needs some reassurance. Hope you like it! -PP

After the Party

After the party, Victoria and Victor excused themselves to their room as early as they could manage. It had been one of Nell's lavish affairs for all of the big names in the fish business. A long evening of dinner and dancing. Their little sitting room had only one table lamp burning.

Victoria was wearing a gown that her mother-in-law had picked for her. Much flashier than she would have chosen for herself—all gold embroidery and seed pearls, a figure-hugging cut and a rather daring neckline for a young married woman. Gold and black were not her colors. It had felt a little much, a little wrong on her petite frame, all around not quite right for her.

But as soon as the door to their suite was shut and locked behind them, Victor pulled her close and said, "You look ravishing this evening."

She smiled a little. "You said that earlier," she reminded him. Her dress rustled and clicked every time he moved his hands. "You truly think so?"

"Oh yes," he assured her, a chuckle in his voice as he nuzzled at her much too elaborate hairdo. There were pearls there, too. "That's why I said it twice."

He kissed her, one hand gently holding her face in that sweet way she liked, his other arm firm around her waist. She felt his fingers move along her jawline up into her hair and could imagine the little strings of pearls being knocked loose. They'd felt so awkward all night, she'd hardly dared move for fear they'd fall off either into someone's food or underfoot during the dancing. One of the combs holding everything in place scraped against her scalp. There was a reason she didn't use combs. They were vaguely uncomfortable and largely useless.

Still Victor's mouth moved over hers, straying every now and again along her cheek or to her temple. His hand braced against her back, holding her hard against him. The back of her gown was cut low enough that she felt his fingertips brush against the skin between her shoulder blades. Victoria tried to lose herself in the embrace as she usually did. But all she could hear and feel were those silly pearls all over her. When she lifted her arms to put them about Victor's neck, her enormous sleeves got in the way. She detested this fashion.

Distracted by how ugly she found her sleeves, Victoria had not noticed that Victor was trying to walk her backwards. She stumbled over her train before she bumped into the door. For a brief moment he pressed against her, pushing her into the door. Usually this sort of thing left her breathless with anticipation and daring. Tonight she was left breathless by the teeth of a comb biting into the back of her head.

Despite this she felt a rush of pleasure when Victor lifted her up by the waist. With strong and confident hands he slid her up the door until their faces were level. Holding her with his body, he tugged at her slim skirts until she could put her legs about his waist. This was his one dashing move, and she found it impossibly alluring. Most of the time. She wasn't usually wearing such narrow skirts when he held her like this. Once more their lips found one another's. She held on tightly, her arms about his back. As Victor's mouth trailed down her neck to her bare shoulder, Victoria stared into the dimness of the sitting room.

There had been three other young ladies about her age at the party. Unmarried. There had been a few eligible men there, whose eyes had slid right over Victoria without seeing her. Although she was used to it, and although she was married, it was still hurtful. None of them had spoken to her beyond the most basic of pleasantries, those heirs and heiresses to other fish empires. And none of the women had looked wrong in their flashy gowns. They'd all been tall, each of them at least a head taller than Victoria. Instead of being overwhelmed by their finery, they'd been at their ease, showing themselves off in their grand plumage. They'd been lovely as swans with their long necks and beautiful shining hair, their magazine-perfect figures and elegant faces. No wonder all of the young men had been captivated by them. Victor had even looked once or twice. Not that she could blame him, as she'd been staring, too.

Next to them, Victoria had felt like a duck. Small and awkward and drab with an oddly-shaped face. An otter's face. Inwardly she cringed. She wished she could forget that. Her mother's voice filled her mind. Years of criticism and outright insults reared up, more recalled feelings than exact words. Usually she did not feel so terribly about herself. In the sweet little bubble she and Victor lived in, just the two of them, it was easy to feel beautiful and desired and interesting, worthy of admiration and time and affection. But when she had other flesh and blood women to compare herself to, well…And, truth be told, she couldn't help thinking of another woman very similar to those she'd met tonight, even in death. And Victor had liked her...

"You love me?" she whispered suddenly, unable to help herself. Victor's hair was tickling her cheek as he pressed his mouth to her collarbone.

"Of course!" he said. His breath was coming hard. From desire or from the exertion of holding her up against the door? Perhaps both. One of his hands was buried in her skirts, supporting her bottom. With the other he was trying intently to find an entrance to her bodice.

"Even though I'm not tall?" she asked. He was going to rip this ugly dress if he kept up that tugging. No real loss, though Mrs. Van Dort would wonder.

"If you were tall I couldn't hold you like this," he told her affectionately, giving her a little boost for emphasis. He'd given up on the front, thankfully, and found the little buttons going up her back instead. Her bodice began to loosen and her ridiculous sleeves drooped down her arms.

"And even though I'm not…" She tried to think of the right word. The word for those other young women. The word that was the opposite of her. "Flashy?"

Victor pulled back so that he could look her in the eye. "What?" he asked. In the dimness she could see how rumpled his hair was. His jacket was unbuttoned and his tie was askew and he was looking at her seriously, perhaps a little confused. "Not flashy?"

Embarrassed, she rested her forehead on his shoulder so that she could hide her face. "I'm not glamorous," she said. "Or very beautiful. I'm not...I'm merely...me."

There was a silence. The ardor had cooled and Victoria felt guilty for spoiling the passionate moment. Then, Victor said in a soft voice, "But you're lovely. Just as you are. You'd not be you if you weren't...well...you."

Victoria lifted her head, meeting his gaze again. He was looking at her fondly now, with true affection. "You have a very pretty face. And lovely...uh...shape," he gave her bottom a small squeeze and she ducked her head to hide a grin. "You're very elegant. You're...refined. And you're truly the sweetest and kindness person I've ever met."

"That's not terribly exciting," she said, even as she flushed with pleasure at these compliments.

Victor shrugged. "Who cares?" he said. "It's what I like. You're what I like. Who I like. Just as you are."

Victoria reached up with her gloved hands and held his face tenderly. She pressed her mouth to his, letting the kiss deepen as it continued on and on. At last she pulled away long enough to whisper, "Thank you. I love you, too. Dearly."

There was another silence, this one warm and companionable. Victoria rested her forehead against Victor's, something she was only able to do when he held her up like this. "Have I spoiled the moment," she breathed, "or would you like to continue?"

"Oh, I would very much like to continue," he told her, matching her tone. He nuzzled at her cheek and, oh so gently, nibbled her earlobe. She shivered.

"Then please, do release me from this awful gown," Victoria said softly with a small laugh behind her words. "I think I shall feel prettier without it."

"You're pretty both ways," Victor told her as he obliged. "All the ways."

When the gown was in a gold and pearl heap on the sitting room floor, they retired to their bed, where Victoria was made to feel gorgeous, desired, and very loved, just as she was.