Page 358 of From Rakes to Riches

Inside a coldness began to grow within her.

“Scandal, my lord?” she said, trying to sound unperturbed.

“Yes. I have a career in the House of Commons—and someday the House of Lords—to think about. Members listen to the opinion of a man they can respect.”

He didn’t quite meet her eyes, as if he wasn’t telling her everything. Was that what he longed for, respect? What had his father done to make the name of Banstead something that harmed even the next generation?

Yet she could not find fault with Lord Thurlow’s honesty, when her own was suspect. What would he do if he discovered that her father, a man who was well known within the circles of theton, had killed himself, and that she and her family had hidden the truth?

But she would live with the guilt of her crime, rather than ruin this opportunity to keep her mother safe.

3

David found himself studying Victoria’s every emotion, so openly revealed on her face. She was worried about his marital requirements, but he couldn’t decide if it was the thought of sex, or how she could carry off her position as a future countess. He didn’t know whether to be flattered by her concern or annoyed.

He still couldn’t forget the horror in her expression when he’d revealed himself as Tom. She certainly had a way of taking him down a peg or two without even trying.

He was having toconvinceher to marry him, she a poor spinster with no other prospects. He had thought he’d gotten used to women rejecting him because of his father’s notoriety, but Victoria’s reservations seemed even more personal. He refused to continue thinking of it that way. She was a frightened woman taking care of an ill mother, with little choice left in her life.

“So do my conditions for marriage meet with your approval?” he asked.

“You know they do, my lord. I would ask nothing less of myself as your—as a wife. But if you don’t mind, I have conditions of my own.”

He raised a brow in acknowledgment of her courage. “Please speak them freely.”

“I ask that you make a place for my mother in your household.”

“Of course, Miss Shelby.”

She went on quickly, as if she hadn’t heard him. “I promise I will take care of her, and she would cause no—” She stopped, and her wide-eyed gaze found his.

He was feeling properly insulted. “Did you think I would turn your mother out on the street?”

“Forgive me if I gave such an implication, my lord,” she said quietly. “It was not my intent. But my mother has not been well since my father’s death, though she is showing signs of improvement. I felt the need to make everything clear between us.”

“There is nothing else you wish for yourself?”

“Just that my sisters be allowed the occasional…lengthy visit, my lord.”

“Of course. You are a rare woman, Miss Shelby. In the interest of making everything ‘clear,’ allow me to assure you that I will provide you with a comfortable life, including an extensive wardrobe and spending money of your own.”

Her complexion had deepened to scarlet throughout his speech. It was obvious that she was a proud woman, unused to having to ask anyone for anything. He wondered how well he would have handled her situation were he in her place, how it must feel to be condemned not to work by society. He knew some of that feeling, of course, because his business dealings crossed the line into commerce, something that would be frowned upon by other gentlemen if it were common knowledge.Other than investments and land dealings, gentlemen did not lower themselves to trade. Being told how he could earn his money did not sit well with David, but it wouldn’t stop his railway venture.

Victoria had no way to earn money at all as a gentlewoman unless as a companion or governess, which her sisters had done, two positions that demanded the utmost work and the utmost in humbled circumstances.

“My lord, your generosity is appreciated,” she said. “If there is anything else you wish of me, please say so before we agree on this arrangement.”

“Arrangement,” he said in a chilly voice. “This won’t be an arrangement, Miss Shelby, but a marriage, a real one in every way.”

In two strides he was right before her, and she stared up at him with wide, beautiful eyes. But she didn’t shrink from him, and for that he was grateful. He reached for her hand, deftly unbuttoned her glove at the wrist, and slid off the offending accessory. She inhaled sharply. Her hand was not as soft as that of every other lady of his acquaintance. This woman had worked hard to feed and shelter herself and her mother. And he admired her.

He brought her trembling hand up and bent over it, never taking his eyes off hers. For just a moment he let her see the sensuousness in his gaze. He pressed his lips to the back of her hand, lingered, inhaled the elusive scent he couldn’t quite place. Ah, the smell of flour and baking, a woman who helped prepare meals. He found her practical nature and his lack of familiarity with it almost erotic. He dipped his tongue against her skin to taste her.

Her strangled gasp satisfied him in a very primitive way. She was not so immune to him as she tried to pretend. He releasedher, and though she dropped her hand, she bravely stood her ground.

“My lord, we don’t know each other well.” Before he could speak, she quickly added, “As adults. I ask for your patience to allow us to become reacquainted.”

“My patience?” he echoed in a low voice, beginning to understand where this might lead.

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