Page 19 of An Unbending Lady for the Desperate Earl
Betty’s eyes widened. “I can’t remember the last time you called me that.”
“I… have forgotten how to be soft, I suppose.” Victoria swallowed the lump in her throat. See, there was another reason she didn’t stay in this house very often. It reminded her of the child she had been, before she became entangled in the real world of crime and brutality, with her days filled with murder and assault and tragedy. As a result, she no longer felt like the woman she had become belonged in such a place of innocence.
“Another thing I blame your father for.” Betty tucked the perpetually unruly curl at the front of Victoria’s face behind her ear, though Victoria knew it would not stay there—any more than Victoria would stay in this house for longer than required. For her mother’s sake, more than her own. Victoria cared about few things in her life, but her mother topped the list of priorities every single time. There was nothing Victoria would not have done to keep her mother safe, even if it meant keeping her distance.
“You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead,” Victoria quipped.
A hint of a smile graced Betty’s still-beautiful face. “Hmm… on occasion, there can be exceptions.”
Victoria fidgeted, as a thought popped into her mind. “Can I ask you something, Mama?”
“Of course.”
“Did you love Father?” It had been on Victoria’s mind ever since Lord Galbury had asked her of the relationship between her parents. She could only reply with what she had witnessed, but she had realized that she did not know the full extent of the affection between her mother and father.
Betty glanced at her in surprise. “What has brought this on, all of a sudden?”
Victoria shrugged. “Call it professional curiosity.”
“I… well… yes, there was a time when I loved him very much. When we first met, I thought the world began and ended with him.” Betty’s tone turned sad. “He was sweeter back then. The world hadn’t yet pecked away at him. He would bring me wildflowers, purely for the sake of it, and would always surprise me with excursions to Brighton or a walk in Hyde Park.”
“I don’t remember any of that,” Victoria said, bemused.
“No… I don’t suppose you would. That was before you were born, though it continued, to a lesser extent, until you were a few years old.” She brushed away tears that welled. “Then he started on his investigative business with Benedict, and everything changed.Hechanged. And all that love… well, that changed too.”
Victoria’s heart ached for her mother. “You didn’t love him at all, after that?”
“Oh, I still loved him ferociously. It was he who ceased to love me, I think. I can’t recall when it happened, but he simply… stopped being my husband, and turned into a lodger who just happened to share the same bed as me.” She shook her head effusively. “But he loved you. And that mattered more to me than being loved by him.”
All this time, Victoria had presumed that neither of her parents had felt much for one another, being in a marriage of convenience instead of adoration. She realized she had never bothered to ask for the truth, not until Lord Galbury had coerced that idea into her mind. Now, she wasn’t sure that she had wanted to know the truth, for it pained her deeply to think how her mother must have suffered. Ambivalence had to be worse than hatred, especially if Betty had still loved Solomon.
“I’m sorry, Mama,” Victoria whispered.
“There is naught to be sorry for, my dear girl. I learned to live within those new circumstances, and I poured my entire heart into you, instead. That has been worth everything. That was his gift to me,” she paused. “I am only bitter that he dragged you into that world with him. Although, I would be more bitter if I had not seen the relief you bring to people. Even when you can’t bring them good news, your very presence helps them.”
Victoria toyed with the sleeve of her gown. “When this case is finished, I will endeavor to see you more. I promise.”
“Now, we mustn’t make promises we can’t keep, Victoria.” Betty gave her a knowing smile. “But I would take once a fortnight, if you are willing?”
“Once a fortnight it is, Mama.” Victoria turned and clasped her mother’s hands tightly. “I mean it. I will be here for you more.”
“Very well, then.” Betty once again tucked that unruly strand behind Victoria’s ear. “Now, shall I fix us a tipple of brandy before this gentleman arrives for you? I know you will never admit to it, but you must be nervous about this evening.”
Victoria chuckled. “A tipple of brandy would do very nicely.”
Together, they headed downstairs to the parlor, though Victoria had to cling to the banister to prevent herself from toppling over. Her shoes kept catching in the hem of her overly long gown, for she had no concept of how to move in such a garment. Indeed, it proved quite the relief when she finally sat down, and no longer had to worry about all that material getting tangled about her legs.
A woman ought to be permitted to wear trousers! I have said it once, and I shall say it again—skirts lack practicality!
“Here.” Betty passed her a small snifter of brandy and took the seat opposite, the two women settling into the comforting quiet of familiarity.
In the silence, peppered only by the occasional crack of sparking wood from the fire in the grate, Victoria’s mind turned to the evening ahead. She had yet to see this list that Lord Galbury had promised to conjure up, regarding whom the thin fellow might be, and it agitated her that she lacked her customary preparation. As for the gentleman wearing the ring with the blue gemstone—she prayed she was right regarding the arrogance she suspected that man to possess.
If he wears it, and he is present at the evening’s ball, then we will be on the path to successfully capturing this devil and his associate…Her heart raced with anxious anticipation, as though she were about to step onto the stage for a long-awaited performance.Another mode of employment that is frowned upon by the upper echelons,she thought drily.
However, she found herself with another cause for anxiety. Here she sat, feeling an utter fraud in her fancy gown, with her lips artificially reddened. Why had she allowed her mother to apply the homemade tint, forged by Betty’s own hands from blackberries she had collected? Lord Galbury would no doubt be amused at the sight of her, no matter how many adornments she wore, or what she placed upon her lips.
Why should I care what that uppity fellow thinks?She frowned into the fire, confused by the direction of her mind. It had been happening more and more often, after her initial meeting with Lord Galbury. Even during their discussion with Miss Jennings, she had caught herself staring at Lord Galbury in a most un-Victoria-like manner. When he smiled, it made her want to smile. When he chuckled, it made her want to chuckle.
