by Gayle Callen
And her husband couldn’t stop looking at her.
Maybe “plump” wasn’t such a bad thing to be.
Lord Thurlow finally shifted in his chair and looked away.
Madame Dupuy began to chuckle. “Ah, newlyweds. And we yet have several gowns to try on. This one has your approval, oui, my lord?”
“Oui, madame,” he said, glancing once more at Victoria with a gaze so hot she felt burned.
Victoria tried on four more gowns, all of which met with Lord Thurlow’s approval, though now he betrayed a polite impatience to leave. Victoria had to work hard to withhold a grin. She made arrangements to have these last gowns delivered within the week, and the rest would be sent when they were ready.
David barely listened to the dressmaker’s last instructions, so consumed was he with the need to leave. He was feeling overly warm, almost smothered in the shop’s confined quarters. To make matters worse, they had to thread through new customers as they headed for the street, and he stood out as the only man there.
Whatever had possessed him to come? Victoria probably would have spent much less of his money, and done fine without him. He couldn’t fault her sense of style at all. But it was so hard to trust anyone, when everything concerned with his railway plans had to be perfect.
After he got into the carriage beside his wife, he tried not to study her so obviously, but he found that she wouldn’t leave his thoughts. There was such a calmness about Victoria, a feeling of capability. He knew that she was the one who had kept her family together in the trying times of the last year.
Who had taken care of her?
He had plenty of money to spend on his wife. Had anyone ever done so? Hell, she’d obeyed him and gone to the dressmaker, but she had never even looked at the ribbons on display. He would talk to his steward about her pin money.
He inhaled a hint of perfume, a warmth of woman, and just like that he forgot the rest of the day’s plans. He looked down at her hands loosely clasped together, and wondered what she would do if he took her hand by daylight instead of waiting for the night.
She tilted her head and looked up at him, giving him a glimpse of her magnificent eyes.
“So how do you know so much about the latest fashions, my lord?” she asked.
He found himself wanting to smile down at her. There was strand of hair across her forehead that needed brushing back. Yet he resisted. “I will admit that it has been a while since I studied them.”
“You do have another chance. We could accept Lady Augusta’s invitation to breakfast.”
“You already know my answer to that,” he said dryly.
“My lord, surely as a member of Parliament, you have to attend certain social functions.”
“It is not even worth subjecting ourselves to people like her.”
“So it is not just Lady Augusta?”
He frowned down at her. “What do you mean?”
“I saw the stack of invitations, and your father told me that you never attend any of the ton’s events.”
“So my father decided to leave his room to harass you, did he?”
“It is his home. He can go anywhere he pleases. But you are attempting to distract me by using your father.”
“If I was attempting to distract you,” he said in a low voice, “you would notice.”
They stared into each other’s eyes. Hers were the deepest color of violets, reminding him of the scent of flowers about her. He glimpsed bravery and determination in her. He could tell that she wanted him to talk to her as he used to. But he didn’t want someone knowing such details about him. Sharing personal feelings left one vulnerable, and he wasn’t that trusting boy anymore.
“My lord, we were discussing your social engagements.” Her voice was almost a whisper.
And he only wanted to think about kissing her again. Instead he turned away and flicked the reins. “I don’t need worrying over, Victoria,” he said mildly.
At luncheon with her husband and mother, Victoria watched Lord Thurlow eat, and wondered about their conversation that morning. She admitted to herself that she wanted to know him again, to understand him. She knew the taint on his family name bothered him, but he had withdrawn from society rather than confront it. And since she didn’t know what the scandal was, she didn’t know what to do to help.
And he needed her help.
“Mama, I am so thankful you joined us today,” Victoria said. “I miss you when you take so many meals in your room.”
“You are newly married, my dear,” Mama said, not looking at the viscount. “You don’t need your mother intruding.”
To Victoria’s surprise, Lord Thurlow looked up at them. “Mrs. Shelby, I am seldom able to be home for luncheon. I’m sure Victoria would appreciate your company.”
Her mother leaned over her plate, but her soft words could be heard clearly. “If you want my daughter to be at ease, then perhaps you should speak to your father.”
Victoria coughed and took a gulp of her wine, which only made her cough more. The two footmen retreated from the room and shut the door behind them.
Lord Thurlow carefully set down his fork and gave her mother all his attention. “What did he say to Victoria?”
“It was nothing,” Victoria said quickly.
“He insulted my daughter,” her mother went on with calm deliberation.
Victoria looked between them, then focused on Lord Thurlow, whose face briefly showed anger, before he trapped it beneath the polite mask he wore. That small blaze of emotion robbed her of speech, left her wondering what he hid from her. As a child he’d hid behind the fiction of Tom, and now she was beginning to think he had mastered too well the art of deception.
Lord Thurlow turned to Victoria. “What did my father do?”
“Truly, my lord, he doesn’t yet know me.”
“All the more reason for him to be civil.”
Victoria could only bite her lip, uncertain if she should step between her husband and his father.
But her mother, once so bold, seemed to be trying to regain her former self. “My lord, he insulted my daughter, as if glancing through the day’s mail was not her right as mistress of the household.”
Oh heavens, Victoria thought, please let her not mention the earl’s words about Lord Thurlow having an affair.
But her mother only finished with, “And he accused her of marrying to rise in social status, as if it were a sin, instead of something that most young girls should do for the good of their family.”
“Mama, please stop this. We all know exactly why I married Lord Thurlow.”
He sighed. “Ladies, allow me to apologize for my father. Illness cannot absolve his behavior.”
Hadn’t Victoria hoped to bring harmony between father and son? She would have to make clear to her mother that she didn’t need defending.
Lord Thurlow carefully set down his napkin and rose to his feet. “Victoria, I have several things to take care of in my study. Have a good afternoon.”
Victoria stared after him, then looked back at her mother, who calmly continued eating with an improved appetite.
“Mama, you know Lord Thurlow and his father are at odds. You did not need to tell him about our confrontation with the earl. You drove him away from his own dinner table.”
“You need to be protected, my dear, and I am grateful to be able to do it.”
Victoria felt a chill as she remembered the last several years. “But Mama—”
“I promise you it will be all right, Victoria. He’ll learn to protect you, too. Just wait and see.”
Chapter 9
David tried to concentrate on the letter he was writing to the secretary of foreign affairs, but he was interrupted by the door swinging open unannounced.
Nurse Carter, a tall, big-boned woman, pushed his father’s wheelchair into the room, and couldn’t meet David’s gaze.
David sat back in his chair and tried to size up his father’s mood. The earl wore an air of satisfaction that
was confusing.
“Father, once again you didn’t have luncheon with us. Rather rude of you, wasn’t it?”
The earl glanced over his shoulder. “Nurse Carter, you may leave us. Wait outside the door. I’ll call for you.”
When they were alone, the earl spent a moment studying David, as if he were waiting for something. David remained silent, much as he’d like to tell the earl what he thought of his treatment of Victoria. That would only make the old man’s hostility worse.
Confronting Lady Augusta had made David realize that now Victoria would be paying for his father’s sins, too, and that wasn’t fair.
“I imagine the girl came running to tell you what transpired between us,” the earl said.
David smiled without amusement. “Victoria is too good-natured for that. It was her mother who did the correct thing by telling me about your insulting behavior.”
“So the old battle-ax has some spirit. I’ve seen her skulking about the house. Got exactly what she wanted, didn’t she. Acountess for a daughter.”
“A viscountess,” David said.
“Not for long, eh? Soon she’ll have it all.”
“Stop it.” David went to the window and stared out at the gardens, his hands clenched behind his back, looking for a measure of peace he usually never found with his father. “Every time we have an argument, you bring up your eventual death to wield against me. It never works.”
“Perhaps not, but it makes me feel better,” the earl said, his voice betraying an exhaustion he seldom showed anyone.
David turned to face him. “Why did you come to talk about this? I made apologies for you. Now you can do your part and leave Victoria alone.”
“If I insulted her, then at least you now know how I felt whenever you insulted my Colette.”
David stiffened, and his growing anger melted into the icy coldness that always lived within his heart. “I never insulted your mistress.”
“Not directly, but she knew how you felt. She cried about it. And now she’s dead, and you can’t apologize. You couldn’t even come to console me at her funeral.”
Closing his eyes, David pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He didn’t want to relive the months after his mother’s death, when his father had found a mistress and moved the crude woman right into the house, for all the ton to gawk at.
David kept his voice even. “If you can’t be civil to Victoria, then don’t leave your room when she’s about.”
His father stared at him, a bitter smile tilting the corner of his mouth. “Is she under your skin already? That was quick. Not wise to let a woman do that to you, boy. They just break your heart.”
“As if you speak from experience,” David scoffed.
He thought his father winced, but he didn’t want to believe it.
“Just do your duty and get me a grandchild,” the old man said.
“You’re making damn sure Victoria won’t ever let our child near you.”
His father froze, his glance wintry. “Is that a threat, David?”
“No, just a prediction.”
“The girl can’t already be carrying a child, is she? Is that why you married such a plain thing?”
David thought of Victoria pregnant with his child, and something deep inside him went cold. He stalked to the door. With his hand on the knob, he said over his shoulder, “Unlike you, I controlled myself.”
He didn’t wait to hear the reply, just opened the door and asked for Nurse Carter.
When his father had gone, David paced his study. His father had hurt Victoria—but so had he.
He hadn’t planned on hurting her. Yet he’d allowed his mistress into the house yesterday.
His father had brought home a mistress, too.
David felt disturbed to even consider that what had happened with Damaris and Victoria was in any way like his father bringing Colette to live with them.
Yet if anyone but Victoria had discovered Damaris in his home, it could easily have been a terrible scandal. How close had he come to being the center of controversy, instead of just the innocent son?
On the carriage ride to the Bannaster home, Victoria tried to quell her nervousness. She’d had luncheon with some of these people, but that didn’t make her feel better. Lord Thurlow had told her there would be eleven other couples—twenty-two people! Victoria assumed that Miss Lingard wouldn’t be there, because she wasn’t a railway director.
Victoria was still so bothered by the fact that her husband might run into his former mistress for business reasons!
The Bannaster town house was larger than even Lord Thurlow’s home, and Victoria knew that Mr. Bannaster must have very successful investments to be able to afford it. The drawing room they were shown to was large enough for them to dance in, but instead a dozen couples mingled between groupings of furniture scattered through the room beneath frescoed ceilings.
After meeting the Bannasters, they were greeted by the Huttons, their hosts from the luncheon, and soon Lord Thurlow went off with Mr. Hutton, leaving Victoria with his wife.
Mrs. Hutton introduced her to other wives, and Victoria found herself in the middle of a friendly group. Her fears that her old shy ways would surface came to naught, and she started to enjoy herself. When needlework became a topic, she even had a lot to say.
During a lull in the conversation, their hostess, Mrs. Bannaster, turned the attention to Victoria, speaking with the faintest accent of a poorer section of London.
“Lady Thurlow, I don’t know if ye remember, but we met many years ago.”
Victoria studied the older woman. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”
“You were much younger, closer to my daughters’ ages than mine. But I wanted to tell ye how impressed I am with how ye’ve grown into a lovely young woman.”
Victoria glanced across the room at her husband, knowing what they all must think about her marrying into the nobility.
“No, my lady, you misunderstand me,” Mrs. Bannaster said. “I remember ye as a very shy girl who seemed frightened to converse with women, let alone men.”
Victoria blushed.
Mrs. Bannaster put her hand on Victoria’s arm. “Please do not be embarrassed. You are to be commended on how ye conquered your weaknesses. One of my daughters is very shy. I will hold ye up as an inspiration for her.”
“Mrs. Bannaster, please, I don’t feel like anyone’s inspiration,” Victoria said. “You’re all being very kind to me, but as you all know, life is what matures us. And having to face situations we never thought we could.”
They looked at her with such kindness. Of course they all knew that her father had died leaving the family nothing. But they didn’t seem to judge her for it, and she was grateful. She knew that wouldn’t happen with the ton.
“And how are your sisters?” Mrs. Wilton asked.
She was much closer to Victoria’s age, and even looked a bit familiar.
“I knew Louisa well,” Mrs. Wilton continued. “She is a sweet young woman.”
“Thank you,” Victoria said.
She explained about the positions her sisters had taken, expecting to experience everyone’s pity, but once again these women surprised her, showing genuine interest in her sisters’ lives. Why had it taken so long for Victoria to realize that these women had so many things in common with her? Some must have started under mean circumstances before their husbands rose to power with their successful investments. Perhaps Lord Thurlow liked being with the husbands for the same reasons. They were hardworking people who knew where they’d come from, and looked down on no one in the same position.
Thinking about her husband made her look through the crowd for him. He wasn’t difficult to find, being the tallest man in the room. He’d spend several minutes with a group of men, then approach the next group. She’d never noticed how…graceful he was (if you could call a man that), how every muscle moved with precision and purpose. He should be awkward or clumsy, but instead…instead she watched him walk an
d felt all strange inside.
Her cheeks grew warm, as she remembered that she was the one he’d come home with tonight.
Mrs. Wilton drew closer to take Victoria’s elbow. “You know, my lady, my husband, Mr. Wilton, enjoys working with Lord Thurlow. It’s hard to believe your husband comes from such a loftier family than any of ours. It’s such a shame.”
Victoria frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s such a shame that his own people won’t have anything to do with him.”
Victoria felt chilled as she looked around at the circle of women. Mrs. Bannaster gave her a sympathetic look, but there were one or two women whom Victoria had not been introduced to yet, who exchanged satisfied expressions. Though the majority liked Lord Thurlow, there were always people who enjoyed seeing the mighty fall.
Victoria felt the need to defend him. “That’s not true, Mrs. Wilton. My husband receives invitations every day. But he chooses the events he enjoys, like this lovely party of Mrs. Bannaster’s.”
Their hostess beamed. “That’s sweet of ye, my dear, but we all know our husbands are meeting for business tonight as well. After dinner, we’ll be without them for several hours at least. Things are coming to a head with the Southern Railway.”
All the other women nodded their agreement, some showing excitement, others nervousness. And Victoria remembered once more how it felt to be on the outside—because her husband had confided nothing to her.
Mrs. Bannaster sighed. “The end is near, ladies—or should we say the beginning. Lady Thurlow, it was wonderful of your husband to offer the use of Banstead House for the last meeting. I’m sure ye’ll make the celebration a memorable event.”
Victoria smiled and nodded, and used every bit of her willpower to hold back the tears that stung her eyes. “Excuse me, ladies, I need to speak to Lord Thurlow.”
“Ah, newlyweds,” Mrs. Wilton said with a giggle.
Hadn’t the dressmaker said the same thing? But it didn’t mean anything in Victoria’s marriage. She was denying her Lord Thurlow his legal rights as a husband—and he was denying her a real place in his life.