Page 432 of From Rakes to Riches

It truly was, she reminded herself. David had shown her everything she could hope for in a husband. He would confide in her now, tell her things that?—

But would she confide in him?

A cold feeling weighted her heart. What would he say if she revealed her father’s suicide? That she had lied to him, lured him into marriage with a falsehood, when he’d told her during his proposal how he felt about scandal? What would he think about her liesnow, after they’d shared this ultimate intimacy?

She would not consider it. She knew now how bothered he’d been by the scandals of his household, how prideful he was. She could keep this secret. What did a commoner’s death matter to anyone? No one knew, except her mother and sisters, and they wouldn’t tell.

This decision had been made a year ago; she would not betray her family now—or her father’s memory.

Not even for her husband.

Covered in a warm dressing gown, she sat down at her desk and opened the drawer where she kept her journals. What could she write? How could she describe what she’d experienced in David’s arms? She closed the drawer.

After bathing and dressing, she went down for a late breakfast. To her surprise, David was just leaving his study. He looked up as she came down the stairs, and she gave him a radiant smile, feeling self-conscious but happy. Just seeing him made her want to shiver as she remembered what his hands had done to her, how he’d made her feel.

He nodded and returned her smile, but it seemed…too normal, almost distant.

“Good morning, Victoria.”

His voice still moved her. “Good morning, David. Did you sleep well?”

Oh goodness. She might just as well have asked him why he left her bed.

“I did, thank you. And yourself?” He looked down at a sheaf of papers he was putting into a satchel.

A clutch of sadness hit her heart. It was as if he didn’t care.

“I slept just fine.” She wanted to say something funny, like he’d exhausted her, but his remote expression kept the words locked in her throat.

“I can’t ride with you this morning,” he said. “I have a meeting scheduled with my steward about our Scotland properties.”

“Of course,” she murmured.

“What time would you like to leave this evening?”

“Leave?”

“The masquerade begins at ten o’clock.”

“Masquerade?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I assumed you now wished to attend every important event of theton.”

“Of course,” she said quickly. “I’ll be ready before ten.”

“Perhaps you should be ready at seven. We have a dinner with the Prime Minister at eight.”

“Oh.” Her head was whirling. But this was what she’d wanted.

Yet—why suddenly did it feel as if he was keeping her busy, keeping a wall between them?

After he’d gone, she stared at the front door, considering what might have happened between last night and today. Did he sense her deceit? Or had she foolishly thought lovemaking would solve everything? He knew her body, but after all, he didn’t know the secrets in her mind. How could she think to know everything about him?

After his meetingwith the steward, David took a carriage to Southern Railway, and tried to think of the business ahead instead of his wife.

His radiant wife, whose face had lit like the sun when she’d seen him that morning.

Part of him had wanted to sweep her into his arms, to greet her as if the hours apart had been too long. And they had been. He had had a difficult time sleeping, knowing he could have been warm at her side instead of alone.

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