Page 365 of From Rakes to Riches

“But I could further my acquaintance with Miss Shelby. After all, I will be an integral part of her wedding.”

“You must be Lord Thurlow’s best man,” Victoria said.

“Indeed he is,” David said, before Simon could speak. “Although I’m not sure if he’s the best, he’ll have to do. Good day to you, Miss Shelby.”

She nodded to them both and stepped inside her town house, closing the door behind her. David dragged Simon away by the arm.

Simon laughed. “This is quite unnecessary. I assure you I mean no ill will toward your lovely future bride. Although I must admit, I’m rather…surprised.”

David pulled him out onto the pavement and turned toward Banstead House. “And what do you mean by that?”

“Just that, in my brief few moments with her, she seems rather…young.”

“She’s twenty-six.” David released his friend when two elderly ladies peered at him suspiciously through identical monocles.

“Then I’ll amend that to naive. Shy and naive. Does that sum her up?”

“Of course not. But she has a rather shy nature I admire.” And he admitted to himself that the gray gown was a vast improvement, making her hair less washed out.

“Not exactly like your mistress, eh?”

“That’s not a topic to be mentioned in public,” he said shortly, opening the town house door and leading him inside. “I won’t bring scandal on my bride.”

“It’s hardly scandal to—” Simon broke off when he looked into David’s face.

David thought he saw pity in Simon’s eyes, and he didn’t want it. Simon must have known what the earl’s scandals had cost David, but in the spirit of friendship, he’d never brought up a subject David didn’t want to speak of. Simon had been a friend since schooldays, one of the few who hadn’t deserted him when the earl had ruined the family name.

“So how did you meet her?” Simon asked, trailing him into the library.

“She’s been a friend since childhood.”

“So have I. Why have I never heard of her?”

David smiled. “Because her friendship goes back to when I was ten years old, nearly half a lifetime earlier than I met you.”

“That doesn’t explain why you never spoke of her,” Simon chided, pouring them each a glass of brandy.

David stared down into his drink. “Maybe because I never actually met her. She wouldn’t allow me to.”

Simon sank into a leather wingback chair before the hearth and waited expectantly. David was forced to explain the journal writing he and Victoria had shared, and that he’d stopped writing once he went off to school.

“So you know a lot about her already,” Simon said. “No wonder you’ve settled on her as a wife.”

“It comes at a fortuitous time. The railway directors are demanding that we meet more often as the deadline approaches, but we can hardly meet in public, so we’re going to include our families as a reason to socialize.”

“Why can’t you meet in public? The scandal of a peer doing more than investing in the railways would hardly rival your father’s notoriety.” Simon eyed him thoughtfully. “But of course, you want to draw no attention to your activities at all. It’s a fragile game you play, David.”

“It’s not a game,” he said as he sat down in the opposite chair. “Much of my capital is tied up in this venture—if it fails, it would be an even bigger scandal than my father’s. I won’t let that happen.”

“You’d hardly be on the streets.”

“No. But there’s power to be had in guiding England’s industrialization. Men come to me for advice, and they don’t care about my father’s scandals. I like the feeling of shaping a new course for the country, Simon, but I know I can’t be open about it with theton. I’ve been ostracized enough—I won’t do that to my children. Someday, men of any class will be appreciated for their vision, and when that happens, I’ll already be ahead of everyone, making the name of Banstead important once more.”

Simon smiled. “I thought you were doing that in Parliament.”

“I am,” David said with satisfaction. “But a man can spread out his bets, can’t he?”

Simon shook his head in a rueful manner. “So you’re marrying for business reasons only?”

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