33
Shop-bought biscuits. Victoria still couldn't quite believe that she was now well-off enough to have specially-ordered shop-bought biscuits in her home. More than one tin!
It was a Sunday lunchtime, and the housekeeper's afternoon off. The girls had asked if they might have biscuits. As they had been especially well-behaved, and had eaten their luncheon without any dallying or complaint, Victoria had given permission. So she stood on a small stool in the pantry, searching for the correct tin.
"The natives are growing restless," Victor said from the pantry doorway. Victoria rolled her eyes.
"They may wait," she said, scanning the depths of the shelf at eye-level. "Patience is a virtue."
Victor stepped up behind her and set his hands lightly on her waist. "They also said they would like the orange biscuits, please," he said, his face close to hers. On her stool she was only an inch or so shorter than him, which was novel.
"Did they say 'please'?" Victoria asked as she finally found and plucked the narrow orange box from the shelf.
"Yes, they did."
"Lovely."
Victoria turned, box in hand, so that they were face to face. Victor did not move his hands. She looked at him fondly for a moment, then leaned in and pressed her mouth to his. It was very nice to not have to crane her neck or for Victor to have to bend.
She'd meant to deliver a quick and affectionate peck, but somehow the kiss deepened. And Victor's hands found their way to her hips. He drew her closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck, the biscuit box still in one hand. Victoria pressed herself tight against him and let her free hand stray into his hair. At the same time she felt one of Victor's hands travel to her bottom. Their kisses were growing a trifle messy. Victor's grip tightened, and Victoria felt a warm pulse start up in her middle.
"May we please have ginger wafers instead, please?" came Catherine's voice.
Victoria, startled, pulled away from Victor so quickly she nearly fell off the stool. Luckily Victor still had his hands on her to steady her. All three of the children were standing in the pantry doorway, blinking at them innocently. Quickly she stepped down from the stool and smoothed at her hair and skirts. Victor cleared his throat and made a big show of searching the pantry shelf for the ginger biscuits.
"Yes, yes, of course," Victoria said hurriedly, her cheeks flaming. "You may have both, if you like. Back to the dining room, please." And she shooed them ahead of her, back through the kitchen. Obediently, happy at the prospect of two kinds of biscuits, the girls disappeared through the kitchen door.
Victoria took a deep and steadying breath, then looked back at Victor in the pantry. He had the box of ginger wafers in one hand. When their eyes met, they shared an intimate and conspiratorial sort of smile.
34
Victor was sitting in the garden one lovely summer afternoon. The air was sweet, filled with the scents of the many different flowers Victoria grew. Butterflies were abundant. He'd brought his sketchbook out with him, but it was just sitting on the ground beside his canvas chair. Today he felt content just to look and admire and enjoy.
Muffled meowing caught his attention. Victor sat up a little straighter and looked around. At last he saw Boisduval slinking his way across the lawn from the direction of the woods. As the cat approached the meowing continued. Victor frowned a little, worried the animal might be ill.
"Hello there, boy," Victor said as Boisduval neared him. The cat perked up at his voice and trotted over. There was something in his mouth, which explained why his cries had sounded so strange. "What do you have there?"
Boisduval stood upon his hind legs and rested his front paws on Victor's knee. Then the cat dropped a large newt directly into Victor's lap.
Victor cried out in surprise, jumping to his feet. The newt dropped to the grass, insensible or dead, he wasn't sure. He brushed at the damp spot the newt had left on his trousers. When he looked up, he saw that Boisduval was sitting on the grass. His tail was curled neatly about his feet and the expression in his green eyes was almost hurt. Recovered, Victor reached down and stroked the cat's head and chin.
"Thank you, it's lovely," Victor told him. He glanced at the newt, which was starting to twitch a little. "A very big newt. Aren't you clever?"
Purring, Boisduval accepted the petting and praise with nearly closed eyes. As Victor watched, keeping the cat distracted, the newt managed to flip itself over and disappear into the lawn.
"Nice kitty," Victor added, breathing a small sigh of relief for the newt. He rubbed Boisduval's chin with his knuckles. "Yes you are. A very good cat."
35
"Perhaps we should hire a maid," Victoria remarked. "Two, even, if we can."
Victor cocked an eyebrow at her. "You weren't thinking about that the entire time, were you?" he asked, an uncertain laugh in his voice. Victoria smiled and kissed him lightly on the nose.
"Gracious no, of course not," she assured him. So saying, she eased herself off of him, offering another kiss for good measure. She sat close beside him on the loveseat, buttoning her blouse back up.
"Oh, good," Victor said, mollified. He sat up from where he'd been half-reclining and set about putting his clothes back in order.
They were in the study together on a Friday afternoon. Every Friday they did the household accounts together. And most Fridays they took advantage of the fact that they were locked away alone together once they'd finished the books. Today, before they'd become distracted, they'd been discussing how much work their household required now that the children were older. The Van Dort family had grown to five, which was rather a lot for one housekeeper.
Victoria often found herself making beds, polishing silver, hanging washing, and beating rugs. Often the children helped her. Not that Victoria really minded. As a girl she'd often had to help Hildegarde with similar tasks, as they could not afford more staff. But it was a lot of work on top of her household management duties.
"We can certainly afford two more salaries," Victor said now, tucking in his shirt. "Easily, I'd say."
"Well, that's what one always says, isn't it?" Victoria replied. She fixed a pin in her hair. "We can easily afford it. Until we cannot any longer. It might be better to save the money."
Victor looked at her for a moment. They'd had this discussion several times. Victoria proposed hiring more help. Victor agreed easily. Victoria then demurred, hemming over the cost. It was nice to have savings. One did not keep money in the safe by spending it, after all.
"You've just seen the books," Victor reminded her as he finished tying his tie. He sat back and folded his hands over his middle. "You handle all of the household money. You are very thrifty. We don't live beyond our means. Quite the opposite. We can afford a maid."
Victoria sat back as well, letting her shoulder touch his. They were quiet. Then she said softly, "I don't want us to be poor."
Victor put an arm around her. "We won't be," he said.
"One never knows," she replied darkly.
Victor sighed and let his head fall back against the back of the loveseat with a thud. Victoria bit her lip, knowing that she'd annoyed him a little. Well, Victor did not understand. His family was the exact opposite of hers. They'd made money just as quickly and dramatically as Victoria's had lost it. But he was right, she knew. They were not spendthrifts. They lived quite modestly, for their position and income. But a life of poverty was a hard one to forget. Even genteel poverty.
"Sometimes I miss when we were first married," Victor remarked to the ceiling. "Before we had to run a household and manage children."
"I do, as well," Victoria said a little wistfully. Oh, the honeymoon phase. In their rooms in Victor's parents' home, which they'd hardly ever left. Walks and outings and dinners. Long afternoons spent doing nothing much at all. Sleeping in. She sighed and rested her head on Victor's shoulder.
"But we're good at this together too," she added. "Running our house, I mean."
"Oh yes, we are," Victor agreed. He gave her a squeeze. "We make quite good business partners, I think."
"And parents," she murmured.
"Hm, yes," he said. "Also employers. Friends, of course."
"Of course," Victoria agreed. Then, snuggling closer, "Lovers, too."
"Oh yes, that, too," Victor said, his chin resting on her hair.
They sat that way for quite a while, both in their own thoughts. Suddenly it occurred to Victoria that they had been married for almost ten years. An entire decade had nearly gone by. How in the world had that happened?
"Marriage really is a funny thing, isn't it?" Victor said at last. "You don't realize til you're in one. But it's a funny thing."
Victoria nodded her agreement. It was. A business. A family. A romance. A friendship. The more she thought of it the more she thought she understood some small truth in those words her mother had spoken a decade ago. As if liking each other as anything to do with marriage. In some sense, Mother was right. There was a lot more to it than that.
But liking each other certainly helped make life more enjoyable. Victoria smiled into Victor's shoulder. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. Soon the clock struck the hour. They both sighed, then grinned at each other. Time to get back to the household. Their household. Immediately Victoria's brain began to fill with the list of things she still had to accomplish before bedtime.
"All right," she said on their way out of the study, "I'll write out an advertisement for a maid. Perhaps for two. Since we can afford it."
"We'll make plans next Friday," Victor assured her. He put his hand quite low on her back as they left the room.