Page 43 of The Lord Next Door
“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 the ton if 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 into industrialization like an explorer, the first of his kind to try something new.
And all she could do was worry. What a perfect wife.
~oOo~
The coachman pulled up 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.
But he was selfish. Every time he’d caught a glimpse of her from across the room at the dinner party, he’d thought of being alone with her again. He’d thought of that dress he’d watched her try on, and the way it had made her breasts look like the most touchable, tasty—
David went to his own room before he swept her into his arms. His valet had turned down the bed and left candles lit. But the man had long since retired for the night, knowing that David preferred to bathe in the morning and to prepare for bed alone.
Especially when he might not be sleeping immediately.
He stared at the door connecting his room to Victoria’s, yanking off his cravat and dropping his coat onto a chair. He was normally fastidious about his clothing, but tonight he felt…restless.
Off came his waistcoat, and he tossed it into a corner, feeling some satisfaction.
He stared at her closed door, knowing that due to his own wedding night suggestion, Victoria was just as closed off from him.
But he wanted to make her groan and know that it was all because of him. He wanted her as his real wife, so there would be no more uncertainty between them. Surely then she’d know she could trust him.
But he hadn’t done a good job of proving that so far.
He meant well—he just kept forgetting to inform her of things. He knew he wasn’t deliberately hurting her, but the look in her eyes tonight, when she’d realized that every other woman there but her knew the railway’s plans…
Leaving on his trousers, he drew his dressing gown over his bare chest. He leaned against Victoria’s door and heard the cascade of water. Unbidden came a vision of her sunk in her bath, her nude body glistening, her hair tumbling down around her wet, dimpled shoulders. He would offer to scrub her back, then slide his hands around the front of her and—
He pulled back from the door and shook his head to clear these foolish thoughts. What was he, a boy waiting for his first woman? At the washstand, he splashed cool water onto his face.
Eventually he knocked on her door. There was absolute silence for several seconds.
“Just a moment,” she called in a breathless voice.
