Page 424 of From Rakes to Riches

He looked at her intently, and she couldn’t say anything over her heart’s terrible pounding. She wanted to take him into her arms, to comfort him the way only a wife could.

“Of course it was my father’s doing,” he continued quietly. “We’d never had much of a relationship, and the mistress killed it completely. She would throw parties, invite the most unsavory of guests. My father indulged her, trusted her. Hell, he must have loved her, because she had the run of the house, even when he was away from London. He didn’t know about the worst of these events, but I did. And thetonknew, and never let me forget.”

She wanted to shield him from what she’d heard, but she knew he wouldn’t like it.

“Lady Walcot mentioned the parties, and the ‘scantily clad women.’ It’s not the first time I’ve heard something like this.”

He sighed. “It’s been five years since his mistress died. You’d think such speculation would eventually end, but it never will. I’m sorry you had to be subjected to it. I wanted to protect you.”

“I know.” She touched his arm, and he didn’t pull away.

“Now you know why Southern Railway has been so enjoyable for me. Those directors only care about my money, and the power I can wield. It’s refreshing.”

She sighed. “Can I ask one more thing?”

“Of course.”

“Lady Walcot also asked if the piano had been burned.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “Thoroughly cleaned, yes, but not burned.”

“What happened, David? I’d rather be prepared when people speak of it.”

“One of Colette’s friends—Colette was my father’s mistress—became so inebriated that she removed her clothes while dancing upon it. Then she sat and accompanied herself while she sang opera. She was quite talented,” he added mildly.

Victoria could not imagine baring herself before dozens of people. She would surely die from the shame. When that woman had awakened the next day, had she been overcome with remorse? Or hadn’t she cared?

He sighed. “You’re scandalized, as I knew you would be.”

“No,” she said firmly, knowing her own secrets were much worse. “I’m trying to imagine how that woman felt the next day.”

A sad smile tilted one corner of his mouth. “Always worried about everyone, aren’t you? Then worry about my character, because I hid behind the ferns and watched her whole performance.”

“How old were you?” she whispered.

“Sixteen.”

“Oh, David, you were still but a child, traumatized by your mother’s death?—”

“I wasn’t a child, Victoria. Not by then.”

He removed his hand from under hers and went back to staring out into the blackness. An occasional gas lamp illuminated shadows beyond his profile. With aching eyes, she refused to let find relief in tears, Victoria could only watch him and worry.

For the first time, he didn’t come to her bedroom that night. Only then did she cry.

19

Victoria came down to breakfast alone. She knew David had not left the town house yet, but he didn’t join her either. To her surprise, his father did.

Nurse Carter positioned his wheelchair at the table, then curtsied as she took her leave.

Victoria smiled at the old man. “Good morning, my lord.”

He only harrumphed, then had a footman bring him ham and eggs. Surely that was more than he’d eaten in a while, and she held her breath as he dug in. By the time he’d eaten a few bites, it was obvious he still did not have a healthy appetite, but it was a start. If he took better care of himself perhaps he could hold off the consequences of his illness for a while longer.

He looked up and caught her watching. “The dinner party a success?”

She wasn’t sure how he meant the question, so she just answered truthfully. “Not really.” She hesitated. “Lady Sarah Palmer made certain to introduce herself to me.” She glanced at both footmen, and they wisely bowed and left the room.

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