Page 391 of From Rakes to Riches

“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 husbandsrose 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 and 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 Lord Thurlow his legal rights as a husband—and he was denying her a real place in his life.

Victoria crossed the drawing room, nodding and smiling appropriately as she passed several people. Lord Thurlow was talking with two other men, so she waited where he could see her. When she finally got her husband’s attention, he smiled at her with an excitement she’d never seen before. But she knew it wasn’t about her—it was this Southern Railway business.

Was she actually jealous of an investment now?

“My lord, might I speak with you in private?”

“Of course.”

He gave their apologies to the other men, and then he took her arm.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

But he wasn’t looking at her as he spoke. His gaze was for the railway directors, and the success of whatever event this actually was.

She sighed. “Is there a place we can be alone for a few minutes?”

Now she had his attention. He watched her with the beginnings of a concerned frown.

“Of course. I know where the library is.”

He escorted her from the room, and soon the noise of two dozen people speaking at once faded away. The library was at the end of the corridor, and when they were inside, he closed the door and leaned back against it.

“What’s wrong, Victoria?”

She looked about her at the thousands of books lining the walls from floor to ceiling. She didn’t know where to start, how to make him understand her position without angering him.

But she was already angry enough for both of them.

She decided to be direct. “I just learned we’re to host a party for your railway directors.”

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