<div class="floatleft">(http://i46.photobucket.com/albums/f142/capwilly1/Westinghouse/Tori_avi.jpg)</div><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Lady Victoria Stuart</span></span> </strong><br/><strong>Current Location:</strong>In a Coach on the Road<br/><strong>With:</strong>Claude Moreau<br/><br/>Lady Victoria had barely spared a glance for the well-dressed man who shared the coach with her, at least not since she noticed that his eyes rarely moved  above her chest to reach her eyes.  Fair skinned, red haired and green eyed, her face and form had always been eye-catching but as the daughter of a footman or a governess in a titled house her beauty was not an asset.  It had cost her more than one position when the lady of the house did not trust her husband to resist such obvious temptation and fired her on the spot.  Sadly, the lady who fired her proved to be correct, for when she remained in the household of Lord Carstairs she found herself in love with a man whose only interest in her was physical – until he learned of her rise in position and wealth.  By the time his tune changed and he swore his eternal love for her, Victoria’s trust had already been destroyed.<br/><br/>Now, she was determined to ignore her traveling companion’s lecherous gaze, so she looked out of the window as the coach made steady progress down the country road or she pretended to be enthralled by the small book of poetry she held on her lap. She would give him no reason or opportunity to engage her in conversation. She wanted only to end this trip quickly and join her brother. However, the endless stream of green countryside grew dull and the reading was difficult in the constantly swaying coach, so in her defense she simply leaned her head against the side of the coach, closed her eyes and pretended to sleep.<br/><br/>That is until the steady rocking of the coach actually lulled her to sleep.  In her peaceful dream state she failed to notice the little book slide off of her lap and land at the feet of the stranger revealing the neatly written dedication inside.<br/><br/><em>*To the most beautiful flower in the garden, the day will come when I will pluck you for my own.  – Carrstairs*</em><br/>