Page 392 of From Rakes to Riches

He nodded. “It was planned long before our engagement. My steward has everything under control.”

“But I will be your hostess. That was one of the reasons you married me. Am I correct?”

“That is true for any wife, Victoria. You’re saying I should have remembered to tell you about the dinner party.”

“Yes. Usually a wife does the planning, not the steward. I would have enjoyed helping you with something I actually know how to do.”

He linked his hands behind his back. “That never happened in my household, since my mother was so ill.”

Her anger slipped away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize?—”

“I don’t mean to keep putting you in these positions,” he said.

His eyes were sincere as they stared down at her. They made her want to believe everything he said. She would gladly melt into his embrace?—

And then he’d get away with not explaining the rest. She took a step back, and his eyes widened. Did he know how easily his face swayed a woman?

“I have more questions, my lord. All of these women know about the Southern Railway except me. I thought it was just an investment of yours, but that can’t be true.”

“It started that way, yes,” he said, beginning to pace back and forth in front of her. “But I discovered that I enjoyed the railway business, for the reasons I gave you when I first took you to the office.”

“It’s England’s future; I understand that. But why wasn’t investing enough for you?”

“Because when I had the majority shares, I thought I could make more of it. There are dozens of railways throughout England, all of them running their own little line with a different gauge track, their own little kingdoms. You haven’t ridden a train, so you don’t understand. Often, when you reach a town, you have to leave one train, cross town by carriage, and board another train from a different railway company. The time lost is ridiculous.”

“But surely the train saves so much time as it is.”

“Yes, but it could be more efficient, especially when transporting goods. So I’m the unofficial chairman and my railway board has come up with a bold plan. We’re going to buy three other railways in the south of England and consolidate them. All the same gauge track, and every line will be accessible without leaving the train.”

“That’s a sound plan,” she said, although inside she grew more and more worried about the extent of a peer’s involvement in a company. “But why the secrecy? I understand how you can’t allow your peers to know that you’re involved in commerce. It would be a scandal. Is that all it is?”

“Only partly,” he said, coming to a stop in front of her. “There’s another man, Mr. Norton, owner of Channel Railway. He’s been talking to one of the companies I want to buy out. The directors and I already have some shares in each of our targets, but not yet enough. We don’t want him to know what we’re doing, or we’ll risk him trying to buy the other companies before we can. If these railways know he’s interested, the price could rise too high.”

“It sounds risky,” she said.

He shrugged. “I’ve invested a lot of capital, but nothing I can’t do without. My estates are bringing in a sizable rent these days.”

But that wasn’t what she meant. He risked his future among thetonif all this got out. She’d thought his work in Parliament was important to him. But when his father died and he moved to the House of Lords, how could he deal with the other peers if they didn’t consider him a gentleman because of his business dealings?

But she was only his wife; it wasn’t her place to tell him what he must already know.

It was only her place to worry.

“Do you understand, Victoria?” he asked.

She nodded. What else could she do?

He smiled. “You’re the perfect wife,” he said, tucking her hand into his arm as he led her back to the drawing room.

The perfect wife?

As he left her to join his fellow directors, she thought about that phrase. Soon it came to her—she’d once written to him in their journal and described what she thought would be his Perfect Wife.

And at the time, she’d assumed it would never be she. She’d thought his perfect wife would be as brave and adventurous as he used to be—as he still was. He was moving intoindustrialization like an explorer, the first of his kind to try something new.

And all she could do was worry. What a perfect wife.

The coachman pulledup before Banstead House long after midnight. David had enjoyed the ride, because Victoria had fallen asleep against his shoulder. The warm weight of her made him think of more pleasant intimacies ahead of them. When he escorted her to her bedroom, she looked so drowsy that he wondered if he should not disturb her anymore that night.

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