“But Cassandra would be in that area,” Miss Whitchurch protested. “Should I be concerned for her?”
“The inn will provide her a room and all her meals,” Duncan spoke of what society would understand. “Actually, when you consider the facts, your sister would be in a better position to tend her own son than you will be when your landlady evicts you. My son’s offer is superior in that manner. The boy will want for nothing under Thompson’s watch. He will not permit the child, or you, for that matter, to suffer.”
“I suppose I could walk a few extra miles if it would secure thechild’s safety,” she ventured. “That is if Lord Thompson has no regrets. And I would be presenting you my rents, my lord. No free luxuries.”
“No regrets whatsoever,” Benjamin said. He stood then, before she could change her mind. “We will permit you to rest. Tomorrow, if you will permit it, I will see you to your current residence to gather your belongings.”
“You will?” the lady asked tentatively.
“If you prefer, I could send you with a servant,” he responded. The lady’s stubbornness knew no limits.
“That would draw less attention,” she observed. “I am truly grateful to you both, my lords. The child will know no more harm.”
Their gazes met, and her eyes widened. Benjamin was not confident that she was as aware of him as he was of her. “Will a small trunk and a valise be too much?” she asked.
“Pack whatever you have. If it does not fit, a courier will retrieve it for you,” he instructed.
His lordship heldout his hand to her. Victoria knew the extension of his hand was a gesture of politeness—a sign of their bargain. Nothing more. For the briefest of moments, she hesitated, but she quickly relented by placing her hand in his. Without gloves, awareness of the gentleman crept up her arm. It amazed her how their hands appeared to be perfectly matched.
Reluctantly, her eyes met his. Their gazes met and held as tangibly as did their hands. Instinctively, her eyes swept downward. She could not give herself any hope of more than a touch of humanity from a man who followed his own agenda in regards to assisting his fellowman. Or woman, in her case.
Having seen Lords Duncan and Thompson out, Victoria turned and looked at the lovely room where he had brought her. Though she knew Cheapside was assuredly not Mayfair, the room represented the man’s position in society. “Discretion, ever the most well-known part of valor, suggests instead of agreeing to the gentleman’s offer, I should make a hasty retreat,” she told the empty room. “I pray I am not making another error, but the reality is I cannot return home to Hampshire with Cassandra’s child nor could I consider leaving the boy in an orphanage. It would be as if I gave away my heart, and such would haunt me for the remainder of my days.”
Victoria glanced at her trembling fingers. “I cannot think of myself in the role of the Cinder Maid,” she reasoned. “Instead, I must manage it all without being beholden to anyone.”
She sat heavily in the chair beside the tea table. “I permitted Lord Duncan to tell me what to do. The man assuredly has an air of authority about him. Drats! I truly do not appreciate someone arranging my life—dismissing my concerns about propriety. Though, in truth, what little I know of society, the haut ton, as they are often called, appear to believe whatever they are told. I suppose a distant cousin relationship could be possible. More importantly, the move shall not be permanent. Just long enough for me to locate Cassandra and to find another set of rooms.”
“Why was Lord Thompson so insistent?” Victoria said aloud. “Is it wrong of me to accept what he is offering?”
The independent streak that everyone claimed as part of her spine announced that she was only doing what was best for the boy. “I am strong enough to tolerate the inconvenience, but I cannot punish the child, for he is the innocent one in all this. Whether that is ladylike or not is up for interpretation.”
“In the meantime—thanks to Lord Thompson’s mix of charity and authority, I have time to reconsider and reorganize my life and my responsibilities to Cassandra’s child. I have time to breathe.”
Even as she presented herself reasons to take advantage of hislordship’s charity, Victoria feared she had just made the most momentous decision of her life. “Or should I say, that two gentlemen of society, along with my wayward sister, have made it for me,” she whispered to the silence in the room.
She looked about the lovely room where she would sleep this evening. Whether she liked it or not, and she did not like it, there was something about Lord Thompson, as if he could see into her soul at a time she would prefer to be invisible, especially to a handsome gentleman.
Victoria wished there was some means for her to return to the vicarage and have her mother fuss over her, just as she always did when Victoria came home from Bath. However, there was no “home” to which to retreat. Maybe never again. Her parents could not accept Mr. Betts’s illegitimate child and maintain what dignity they might still know among their neighbors. “Which means I cannot return home. If I must choose between the child and my Hampshire life, I will choose the child,” she whispered to the room and herself.
“One must move forward,”she reasoned.“Why could Lord Betts not simply have accepted the match between his son and Cassandra? My sister would have learned how things among the aristocracy occurred, just as must Mr. Betts. She would have been a baroness and known the pleasures of the peerage, the fairy tale my sister coveted all her life. She would not have caused Mr. Betts trouble, as long as he had treated her with some kindness now and then. Jonas Betts could have left her in the country and still enjoyed his London life. Now neither my sister nor the baby will have an easy future.”
