Her mother, never one to relent until she’d twisted the knife, leaned in close and said, “Perhaps you’re prepared to make the same mistakes again, but can’t you think of something other than your basest needs for a moment? After everything you’ve already risked over the last few years, haven’t you put your family through enough?”

Vic lost all her fight. The anger, the offence, the righteous indignation, every one of them failed her as she used every bit of energy she had left to simply stand under the last strains of her mother’s scrutiny.

The duchess waited, no doubt searching for any ember of the flame that had flared moments earlier. Seeing none, she eventually nodded and swung open the door to the library.

“Ms. LeBlanc,” she declared, her voice strong and clear. “You’ll have to pardon us, but it appears as though we need to cut this whole thing short.”

Sophia made no response Vic could hear as she rose, but as she reached the door, the duchess stopped her. “I presume we’ll meet again under other circumstances?”

“Indeed,” Sophia agreed, but her eyes were already on Vic.

Vic’s face burned once more, but not for the same reasons as earlier. This time she had only herself to blame, and she had neither the time nor the space to explain herself. Instead she managed only to meet Sophia’s dark eyes long enough to whisper, “I’m sorry.”

Sophia’s smile was small and tight. “You know how I feel about apologies.”

Then she walked away.

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

“Lay on the ground and shoot up,” Brian suggested, flippantly.

“What?” both Sophia and the cameraman asked in unison.

“I said,” Brian pinched the bridge of his nose as if trying to stem the headache accompanying his perpetual hangover, “shoot from the ground with the Steadicam. Follow Tommy’s hand closely as he takes hold of her leg and work upward.”

“That’s not what the script calls for,” Sophia said sharply. They were shooting in the stable this morning, and the space was a little tight, but not enough to warrant upskirting her. “The note specifically called for the camera to focus on my face.”

“The audience won’t know what he’s doing with his hands if we focus on your face.”

Sophia snorted. “Trust me, if we’re to assume he’s doing it correctly, the audience should definitely be able to tell by watching my face.”

The cameraman snorted to swallow his laugh.

“Besides,” Talia offered, stepping forward and using her most soothing voice, “he’s not supposed to actually touch her leg today, just push up the skirt and the petticoat. If we’re going up higher, we may want to call in someone to—”

“If I wanted an intimacy coordinator, I would’ve hired one,” Brian snapped.