Page 357 of From Rakes to Riches

“Because I need a wife, and you need a husband,” he said briskly, beginning to pace as if he didn’t want to truly see her. “You came to Tom because you thought the two of you got on decently together, am I right?”

She gave a reluctant nod.

“And I think the same thing. Yes, I could choose some pretty chit fresh into her first Season, and I might be lucky—or not. They seem so very young lately. But with you?—”

He paused, and she thought she almost detected a hesitation in his gait.

“But with you,” he continued smoothly, “I have a better idea of the woman I’d be marrying.”

“Do you, my lord? We have never spoken, and haven’t written to each other in ten years. You think you know me so well?”

“I would never presume such a thing, Miss Shelby. But I know the kind of girl you were, and that is enough for me.”

But she wasn’t that girl anymore. Life had changed her. It had certainly changed him. But in what ways?

Victoria’s mother chose that moment to enter the drawing room, draped in a black gown that hung on her thinner frame. Mama stared between her daughter and the viscount in obvious confusion. Victoria’s resignation faded into tender worry. She rose and took the woman’s cold hand in hers.

“Hello, Mama. I’m so glad you came. I’d like to introduce you to our neighbor, Lord Thurlow. Lord Thurlow, my mother, Mrs. Lavinia Shelby.”

Confusion clouded her mother’s eyes, but then a tentative smile touched her pale lips. “Are you the little boy from next door?”

Victoria smothered a gasp, staring at her mother in shock. Had Mama read Victoria’s journal all those years ago?

Lord Thurlow bowed over Mama’s hand, watching the older woman as if he sensed nothing amiss. “I am, Mrs. Shelby. Have we met?”

“Once on the street my bonnet blew away, and you ran and fetched it for me.”

“Ah, I see,” he said. “Forgive me for not remembering.”

“You were quite young, but very polite.”

She looked around, and Victoria saw her gaze take in the moved furniture, and regretted the confusion it caused.

“I don’t believe you’ve come to call before,” Mama said.

Victoria frowned at the viscount, warning him not to speak of what was not yet settled between them.

“And it was past time I did visit,” he said. “We are neighbors, after all, and such bonds carry a certain…weight.”

Victoria didn’t know what he was implying, and it was obvious her mother was even more confused. Victoria slipped her arm into Mama’s, and she almost flinched away. The rejection stung, and Victoria felt the unwanted start of tears. She wouldn’t cry in front of Lord Thurlow.

Victoria guided her to the door. “Why don’t you find Mrs. Wayneflete, Mama? I understand that she wanted your opinion about the dinner menu.”

Without even acknowledging the viscount, her mother wandered out of the room. Victoria turned and looked at Lord Thurlow, waiting for what he would say. Would he change his mind and leave her to poverty? Or would he stay, which was frightening in itself?

Suddenly she couldn’t stop thinking of the intimacy involved in a marriage. She would have to let him…touch her.

He clasped his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry to see how difficult your father’s death has been on your mother.”

He was watching her too closely, and it unnerved her. She turned away, waiting for his rejection.

“Our marriage would help your mother, too,” he said.

She let out a deep sigh. “Why are you trying so hard to convince me to marry you, my lord? You know how difficult it would be for me to refuse. Tell me what you require of me as your wife.”

He’d begun pacing again; she could feel his movement behind her. It made it easier for her to turn and face him.

“My requirements are quite simple, Miss Shelby. You will run my household, and the household of my family seat, where we’ll spend several months of each year. I shall need an heir”—that part was rather rushed—“and of course, I would need my wife to be above scandal at all times.”

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