«I would die before I let a man rut upon me.»

Rueful laughter was Victoria’s only reply. «Ah, Jessica. You should have been born to a staunch Catholic family and sent to a nunnery, but you were not. You are the only offspring of a Scots Protestant highland lass and a lowland earl. The title and lands passed elsewhere, leaving you no wealth of your own. You must marry. Lord Gore, whatever his drawbacks as a gentleman, has enough wealth to keep the Queen herself in luxury.»

«So you have told me. Often.»

«In the hope that someday you will listen,» retorted Victoria.

«In America slaves have been freed. Would that we in England treated our women so tenderly!»

A soft hand closed around Jessica’s chin. «Stubborn little Scots lass,» Victoria said. «But in this I am more stubborn even than you. You have enjoyed the perquisites of aristocracy. A common woman your age would have been tumbled and set to breeding years ago by the first lout who got beneath her skirts.»

Jessica’s mouth flattened.

«You were protected by my second husband and raised as gently as though you were a child of his own loins,» Victoria continued, her voice cool and relentless. «You were educated in managing a great house and a great fortune. Despite that dreadful American maid whom you imitate, you were taught to speak proper English and to be a proper lady. Now you must repay the generosity of your upbringing by producing an heir who will forever bind together the fortunes of the Viscount’s family and the wealth of Baronet Gore’s shipping empire.»

Long auburn lashes swept down, concealing the revulsion in Jessica’s eyes. «My lady, please —»