Page 381 of From Rakes to Riches

He clenched his jaw, reminding himself that as his wife, she deserved more consideration. “I’ll make sure my secretary discusses everything with you.”

“You can’t tell me yourself?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

She lowered her gaze and continued eating, not even angry at his thoughtlessness. He realized that he liked spending time with her, that her conversation was never dull. But then again, hadn’t he been enthralled by even the words she’d written in a book? Now he was able to regard her freely, and he found himself watching her lips. He’d kissed those lips last night, if only for the briefest moment. They’d been so soft, her breath so sweet. Like her disposition. Surely she knew that his family was not looked upon well, yet she didn’t seem to judge him for it.

“My lord, forgive my mother for not joining us this evening,” Victoria said. “She is feeling rather unsettled in a new house.”

“I understand.”

“Where is your father?”

“His illness often prevents him from leaving his room.” David couldn’t look too long into her eyes, knowing that his relief would show. Soon enough, she’d realize that the earl’s absence made everything easier.

“How ill is he, my lord?”

“His heart is failing. He lost the use of his legs some time ago. He is not a well man, though doctors cannot tell us how much time he might have left. Don’t be surprised if you don’t see him all that much. He has his own nurse to see to his needs.”

“But I am his daughter by marriage. I would enjoy getting to know him.”

“Victoria, let me be honest. My father is unhappy with the decline in his health, and he has managed to make the household suffer for it.”

“Oh surely?—”

“He is the reason two housekeepers quit. He’s not an easy man to get along with.”

“I understand that, my lord, but I can’t live in his house and not speak to him.”

She moved food around on her plate for several minutes but didn’t eat it. David knew she was not finished with the subject, but before he could think of another one—even the weather—she spoke.

“Wilfred,” she said to the footman, “that will be all for now.”

David arched an eyebrow and waited for the servant to leave.

“My lord, when you were pretending to be Tom, you told me you didn’t have a father.”

He stiffened. “As you just said, I was pretending.”

“You could have given yourself a father—for instance, the butler—but you didn’t.”

He sighed. “Clearly it must be obvious to you that my father and I don’t agree on much, Victoria. I disapprove of the way he’s lived his life, and he disapproves of me.”

Her eyes held an understanding that made him uncomfortable.

“My lord, if you remember anything about me, then you’ll know that my father and I did not often agree with one another.”

“He tried to force you to be what you weren’t,” David said. “But you don’t need to draw comparisons between you and me, because there aren’t any where our fathers are concerned. My father only cares about himself, the prime evidence being how he treats the servants. And when he is cruel to you, please don’t take it personally.”

“You don’t think my father’s motives were selfish?” she asked.

For only the second time, she allowed him to see anguish in her eyes, and he didn’t know what to do, what she wanted from him.

“By the end,” she continued, “he was a very selfish man. It is difficult when your own parent seems to disregard you. I tell myself that maybe I was only seeing my own side of our problems.”

“Or maybe you were seeing the truth. You need to do what I did and just forget.”

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