Page 413 of From Rakes to Riches

“I kept it all this time.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“You once offered to marry me.”

“I did?”

“You said you wanted to marry me because I was the least like a girl of any girl you knew.”

He kept his voice light. “I was full of compliments, even then.”

She smiled. “Itwasa compliment—from a twelve-year-old boy. I wrote back that my father would choose my husband, but in truth, I didn’t want to hurt you. I knew my father would not choose a cook’s son. How things have changed—yourfather wouldn’t have chosen me.”

He felt…uncertain, something he hadn’t experienced in a long time. “Is that why you never married—you were waiting for me?”

“Of course not. I’d rather spend a quiet evening with my music than socialize. You surely know by now that I have never been comfortable with men. I never can think of the right things to say.”

“You don’t seem to have trouble speaking to me.”

With a rueful smile, she said, “Trust me, it comes with much practice. I don’t have your gift for easy speech. You have a natural confidence that makes being with people effortless.”

He spoke without thinking. “That’s not true. Sometimes I can put on a performance when necessary.”

She narrowed her eyes in concentration. “When are you putting on a performance?”

She looked at him with far too much perception. It made him feel vulnerable, as if she could see things inside him that he didn’t want known. She was still watching him solemnly when he turned away.

He saw the journal and, unbidden, memories he wanted to forget welled up, memories of a boy who made up another lifebecause he was tired of being afraid and sad all the time. He’d concentrated on his adventures, told her about catching frogs and planning great journeys by the globe in the library. He’d wanted to escape back then, and it had taken him years to realize he never could. Over time, hehadbecome very good at acting.

“Good night, Victoria.”

This time she silently let him go.

15

After their morning ride, David left for the day, promising to return well before their guests that evening. Victoria felt nervous about hosting her own party, but Mrs. Wayneflete had the whole household organized. Victoria wandered from the kitchen to the dining room to the drawing rooms, overseeing the placement of the flower arrangements, because everything else was ready.

As she stood alone in the drawing room, admiring how everything looked, she saw the little bird statue that had belonged to the countess. It made her think of David and his inability to talk about the past. The countess’s death had started the earl on his descent into scandal, but things had always been strange next door. Banstead House had seemed to be draped in mourning through some part of every year when she was a child. She had often wondered how many elderly relatives the earl must have, for there to be so many deaths.

This was a mystery she had to solve. In the library, she found the family Bible, and the year of the countess’s death—the exact same year David had stopped writing in the journal.

After Lady Banstead’s death, the parties had started. The house had seemed to come alive, ablaze with lights several times a week, with carriages lined along on the road to disembark their passengers. Her father had complained about the loud voices in the garden so late at night and the music that had gone on until the early hours of the morning.

And what about David? How had such disrespect for the year of mourning affected him? He hadn’t even been able to write to her anymore.

Absently, she looked farther down the page, and what she saw made her blood chill in her veins. After David, there were five other babies born—and all had died on the day of their birth.

“What are you doing?”

Victoria gave a jump and almost dropped the huge Bible. She turned to find Lord Banstead in his wheelchair with his regular frown in evidence. Nurse Carter stood behind him, her gaze lowered awkwardly.

“Good morning, my lord,” Victoria said. “I was just on my way in to visit you.”

“Don’t think you’re reading the Bible to me. Had enough of that as a child.”

“Of course not, my lord.” The poor man. He’d had so many children die. No wonder the house had been under the blackness of mourning. And the last baby’s birth had also killed David’s mother.

Could tonight’s party help David and his father?

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