A Chance in a Million (The Chances #5)

Chapter Sixteen

February 2, 1840

“T here is absolutely nothing to be nervous about,” Thomas said as he ushered her into the cavernous hallway. “Trust me.”

Trust me. It was the sort of thing he was finding himself saying often at the moment. Trust me, Victoria. Trust me that I am marrying you for the right reasons. Trust me that I can be depended on with your immense fortune. Trust me that I love you, even though I haven’t said it.

Why, I don’t know myself.

“That’s easy for you to say. They’re your family.”

“They’re really not that bad,” he said quietly, sending away a footman with a wave of his hand before starting to remove Victoria’s pelisse.

Thomas swallowed, trying not to let himself get lost in the sensations of Victoria. That delicate, lavender scent that wafted around her almost constantly, making him feel uncomfortably hard whenever he walked down a particular path in the Cothrom garden. The softness, the caress of her skin as he trailed his fingertips around her neck and shoulders to remove the pelisse. The heat of the look she gave him—

It was enough to tip any man over into lust, and Thomas knew precisely what could be gained from that sumptuous form.

Damn it, man, you’re about to introduce her to your entire family! Control yourself!

“I suppose they’re like any family, really,” Victoria was saying, apparently unaffected by his fingers. Which was probably a good thing. “It’s just… Well. It’s the Cothrom family. The Chance family.”

Thomas waited for her to continue as he placed her pelisse carefully on the coatrack by the door, but when he turned back to her with a curious eye, she did not appear to have anything else to say.

“The Chance family,” he repeated curiously.

Victoria tilted her head as she finished removing her bonnet. “You really have no idea, do you?”

It was not pleasant, to realize there was something about yourself, about your family, that you did not know. The unpleasantness, however, was mediated by the fact that it gave him the perfect excuse to look at Victoria again. That was not much of a hardship.

She was wearing a delicate cream silk gown, one almost as soft as her skin. It clung to her breasts in all their fullness, making Thomas’s mouth dry, then swept down into a marvelous train he was going to have to be careful not to tread on. These modern fashions,—they made it almost impossible for a man to get close to a woman.

His woman.

His stomach stirred, a need to possess her threatening to overwhelm Thomas’s senses, but thankfully, at that moment, Victoria continued speaking.

“It’s just… Well, the Chance family. You’re some of the most popular and impressive people in Society, individually, and as a family—”

“Don’t let my sister hear you speaking like that,” Thomas warned with a grin as he offered up his arm. “She’s big-headed enough as it is.”

“It’s not Lady Maude, although she’s a part of it, I suppose,” Victoria said, biting her lip as she accepted his arm, almost as though she did so without thinking.

As though they were meant to be this close.

“Being a Chance, it’s like being royalty in my circles. I cannot tell you how pleased my mother is.”

She didn’t need to. He had seen enough evidence once they had departed the Ainsworth breakfast room three days ago. Mrs. Ainsworth had at first clapped her hands together in delight, then squawked something about being the happiest she had ever been, then yelled for all the servants to hurry, which they had done, despite Victoria’s attempts to calm her mother, and then the woman had burst into—presumably happy—tears.

It had been quite the ordeal.

“A shame your mother felt too ill to join us,” he said, clearing his throat. The woman’s usual energy would have certainly been something for his brothers to comment on later, had she come.

“She is so sad to have missed it. But I assured her it was more important she rest, and be healthy for the wedding. Still, I’ll not hear the end of her missing tonight.”

“It’s just dinner with my family,” Thomas said confidently, ushering her down a corridor, his pulse thumping too hard for his words to be entirely true. “Just dinner.”

Just the first time his future bride would meet his brothers. Just the first time she would be introduced to his sister and mother as his betrothed, the first woman to enter the family in almost two decades. Just the moment when he would discover if he had gained his father’s approval in his choice.

Thomas’s mouth was unexpectedly dry when he reached the drawing room door and opened it up.

It was just a dinner, as he kept attempting to tell Victoria.

Even he didn’t believe that. This was a big moment, one that only grew larger as Thomas took in the scene before him.

Standing by the fireplace were his parents, speaking together rapidly in hushed tones. On the pianoforte was his brother Alexander, a teasing smile already spreading across his face. On the sofa, Leopold and Maude, chattering away happily but falling into silence as they looked at the two newcomers.

Thomas did not even think. He placed a hand over Victoria’s on his arm, protecting it. Protecting her.

She squeezed his arm and certainty roared up in Thomas’s chest.

Well, this was it.

“Mother, Father,” he said confidently as he strode toward the older couple by the fire. “May I introduce Miss Victoria Ainsworth, my betrothed.”

Betrothed . Strange. Ever since Thomas had started using the word, he had discovered it fit naturally in his mouth. As though he had been waiting to say it all his life.

His mother was all delight. “Miss Ainsworth, how perfectly splendid to see you again. I was quite desolate that we had little opportunity to speak at our ball, and now you are here for dinner, how wonderful.”

Thomas glanced at Victoria and saw to his relief that she was smiling, her charm emanating as he knew it would.

“The pleasure is all mine, Your Grace. My mother sends her regrets. She will be so sad to have missed a chance to dine with the Duchess of Cothrom.”

“Oh, I am not the Duchess of Cothrom any longer. That shall be your title! But I am sorry to hear your mother could not come.”

And Victoria laughed prettily, and flushed, and said all the right things about not changing precedence and her hopes that they would grow to know each other…

It was everything he wanted. Thomas’s chest puffed out, relief and elation mingling in his heart. This was what he had hoped for.

Well. Almost everything.

The Dowager Duke of Cothrom remained silent as his wife and his future daughter-in-law chattered away. His gaze had raked up and down the young woman once. He had said nothing.

Thomas’s jaw tightened. It was… Well, not rude. No one would call his father’s response rude, though perhaps it wasn’t cordial.

Regardless, it was not the warm greeting and welcome he had hoped for.

I wanted him to be impressed.

The thought could not be taken captive before it had risen up in his mind and Thomas could not deny it. William Chance had impeccable taste—everyone in Society knew that. It would have meant a great deal to Thomas if his father had said a few words of welcome, a compliment, perhaps. Even a smile would have been refreshing.

Yet there he stood, face impassive, eyes cold, tongue silent.

Thomas attempted not to be offended. It was a comment on him, though, surely—wasn’t it? Did his father believe he had not made the right choice? Did he think his son should have chosen someone better?

Was there anyone better, in all the world?

Trying to concentrate on the cordiality growing between his mother and Victoria, Thomas extricated his arm and murmured, “Let me get you a drink.”

Victoria cast him a momentary look of panic, the absence of him clearly having more of an impact than he thought, but then it was gone. She inclined her head graciously and turned back to his mother.

“You must tell me, Your Grace, just who it was that painted the ceiling of your ballroom. The detailing was most exquisite…”

A smile creased Thomas’s face as he walked over to a footman and murmured a request for two glasses of wine. Well, so far, so—

“Better make it a whole host of glasses. I think we’ll all need it,” said a voice.

Thomas groaned as he turned to his brother. “You’re not going to make this difficult for me, are you?”

“Wouldn’t dare.” Leopold nudged his older brother with a wink. “After all, you’ve won, haven’t you?”

His stomach lurched. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, yes, you do. You just don’t like to admit it,” said Alexander, stepping over with their sister and punching Thomas lightly on the arm. “You know, part of me thought you wouldn’t be able to go through with it.”

Thomas glanced over at Victoria and his parents, hoping beyond hope they could not hear their conversation. The last thing he needed was Victoria suspecting something—at least, before he could explain. And he would explain. At the right moment. When it arrived.

“I like her,” said Maude stoutly as the footman returned with a tray of filled wineglasses. She took one. “And I shall be most displeased with you if you hurt her, Tommy.”

His jaw tightened. “I don’t intend to.”

Alexander scoffed. “Well, as long as she’s got the dowry—”

“ Xander !” hissed Thomas.

The man had clearly already been in his cups before he and Victoria had arrived, for he was grinning in that laconic way his brother always did when he’d drunk a little too much.

Their father would be furious.

“It’s fine, man. Don’t worry, I’m not about to reveal your secret.” Alexander winked. “It’s bizarre, though, you have to admit. From then to here in what, a month? And all on the toss of a coin.”

Thomas tried to grin. His brother was not so foolish as to say something. Even in his cups, the man was clever—far too clever to drop him into a situation he could not talk himself out of.

“I need to take Victoria a glass of wine,” he said aloud, hoping to extricate himself from his brother as swiftly as possible and making a mental note to speak quietly to Bradbury to place Alexander as far from Victoria at the dinner table as possible.

“Yes, let’s all go and meet her,” Maude said, dashing his hopes. “Officially, as it were.”

Somehow, all the nerves Victoria had been feeling upon arrival at the Cothrom Bath townhouse had left her and crept under his skin. Thomas could feel them churning about in his stomach, making every step a challenge.

The siblings approached their parents and Thomas stood between Victoria and Alexander. At least that way, he could not directly—

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Ainsworth,” Alexander said cheerfully, lifting his glass. “A toast—to yourself, and this reprobate.”

Thomas tried not to snort with exasperation, though thankfully, he was saved the trouble of punching his brother thanks to Maude’s vicious elbow.

Alexander cried out. “Ouch. What the devil did I do to—”

“Yes, here’s to the happy couple,” said Leopold loudly, drowning out their younger brother’s nonsense with a roll of his eyes in Thomas’s direction. “We look forward to getting to know you better, Miss Ainsworth.”

Thomas reveled in the pinkness of Victoria’s cheeks as she accepted their toasts and best wishes, his pulse skipping a beat.

This was what he wanted.

This was what he had discovered he had wanted. At first, it had been all about the money—not that he was sure how he would ever explain that to her. Then it had been about burying himself in her arms and eking decadence from every pore of her being. That had been wonderful, and it was most definitely a part of marriage to which he was looking forward.

But now…

Now it was all different. He loved this woman, loved every part of her. Loved the way her eyes crinkled in the corners and the way she sipped her tea, and…and everything.

And he would tell her. Soon.

“—chance of finding one’s perfect partner?” Thomas’s mother was saying. “I am hardly a mathematician, that’s Aunt Dodo for you.”

“I am sure she has worked it out,” Maude said dryly. “There are few things she hasn’t.”

“I am serious.” His mother nodded pensively. “It must be one in ten thousand, or perhaps more.”

“One in a million,” said Alexander with a grin.

“A one-in-a-million chance?” Victoria said, her eyes wide. “There must be few other things so rare in life.”

There was a tingling panic at the base of his neck and Thomas did not know why. Something was brewing, something his subconscious could clearly see coming, but he could not.

“Oh, I would imagine there are quite a few things,” Leopold said, sipping his wine. “The likelihood of finding buried treasure, perhaps—”

“Or discovering Atlantis?” Maude grinned. “Be serious, Leo.”

“No, there are most definitely things that happen that only have a one-in-a-million chance,” Alexander quipped. “Do you remember that coin toss, Tommy?”

Thomas froze.

Oh, God, no. No, come on, man, this isn’t the time to speak of that.

Alexander tapped his chin with one finger. “We were—where were we? I can’t remember.”

Thomas’s mouth was dry and he needed to speak, needed to stop this, needed to head off this disaster and yet the words weren’t coming. It was as though he were looking at a portrait of his family and Victoria for all the impact he could have on them, as if they were standing on a tableaux, about to enact a disastrous play.

It was going to happen right here, right in front of him, and he could do nothing to stop it.

“Anyway, Thomas had to toss a coin to decide—”

“You know, I can’t really recall,” he said hastily, taking Victoria’s hand in his and wondering if he could lead her into the dining room right now, before the end of the world occurred. “Mother, do you think we should—”

“—and instead of falling on heads or tails, the coin actually fell onto its edge!” Alexander said triumphantly.

The cries of astonishment and “Surely not!” rang around the drawing room, and Thomas’s pulse felt as though it were going to slowly return back to its normal pace.

That was what his brother was talking about. Merely the oddity of the toss, not the reason for the toss in the first place. There was no need to be concerned, no need at all. The story was told, the danger was past, and—

“That is remarkable,” Victoria said, her eyes wide as she glanced at Thomas. “The sort of thing you could not repeat.”

“No,” Thomas said tersely, turning back to his mother. “Is dinner ready? I think we should go through—”

“In fact, he did toss the coin again straightaway, as it turns out,” Alexander said with a shrug. “To decide between you and Lady Marjorie.”

And that was when all chatter ceased.

Thomas could not hear a sound other than the painful throb of his pulse in his ears. Leopold and Maude had both closed their eyes and winced, his parents were frowning, glancing at each other in confusion, and Victoria…

For a series of thumping heartbeats, Thomas did not have the bravery to look. Only when her fingers slipped from his own did he force himself to.

There was…confusion. And pain. And distress, and anger, all flickering across her face like wind across a sail.

Then it settled into…nothingness. “Between…” She cleared her throat. “Between me and Lady Marjorie?”

“You, come on,” said Maude sternly, grabbing Alexander by his arm.

His jaw gaped open. “What? Why? Where are we—”

“He always talks nonsense when he gets in his cups, Miss Ainsworth. I would not pay much heed to anything he says,” Leopold said hastily, stepping into the gap his two siblings had left as Maude marched Alexander to the door.

“But what did he mean, Leopold?” asked their mother, frowning, and Thomas wished to goodness he had never thought of this dinner. Never lied to Victoria. Never tried to keep the truth from her.

Why on earth hadn’t he told her the whole story?

“Between myself, and Lady Marjorie,” Victoria repeated, her voice somehow far away. “She is one of the most eligible ladies in Society, true, but…but why would you be…”

That was when she turned her eyes to Thomas and he crumpled, pain shooting across his shoulder blades.

“You were flipping a coin,” she whispered, eyes wide. “Flipping a coin to choose between Lady Marjorie…and me? That is all I am. A toss of a coin.”

Silence fell in a mortifying heaviness as Thomas tried desperately to articulate a statement that would make her understand. “I… Arghh… Uh… I—”

“Everyone, out,” his father said stiffly.

There was no time to speak. The Dowager Duke of Cothrom took his wife’s hand as she protested vociferously that she wanted to remain and help. One look at Thomas’s brother was enough to send Leopold out with them.

The door closed. They were alone.

“I can explain—” Thomas said in a flash of mortification.

“I don’t think you can,” Victoria said, taking a step back and placing her glass on the mantelpiece. Her fingers were shaking. How had he not noticed that? “I-I don’t think there are words to explain.”

“I must explain,” he said firmly, panic rising.

Because this had to end well—it simply had to. He hadn’t come all this way, wooed her, courted her, then gone through the inconvenience of discovering he loved her and could not exist without her, just—just to lose her.

No.

“You think I am just some bauble to pick up and put down, to flip a coin over?” Victoria was speaking quietly, but there was such pain in her voice that it cracked. “How could you? Who are you, Thomas? The man I know, I knew—”

“I am still that man,” he said eagerly, stepping forward, needing to be close to her.

His attempt was foiled as she took a step back. “The man I thought I knew, clearly, for you are the same man and you are the man who thought I was so insignificant—”

“Victoria—”

“—so inconsequential to your life that it would not matter which woman you pursued?” Tears sparkled in her eyes.

Thomas’s lungs were threatening to tear themselves apart, his whole chest heaving with pain and anguish, and the words he wanted to say mingled with the panic he could not quell.

He was going to lose her. He was going to lose her, and it was all his fault.

“You are not inconsequential,” Thomas said fiercely, words finally reaching his tongue. “Victoria, you are—”

“ Miss Ainsworth ,” she said stiffly.

The panic seared into irritation. “You’re not even going to let me attempt to explain, are you?”

“There is no explanation!” she shot back. “How can you justify the fact that you saw Lady Marjorie and myself as options on a menu? You tossed a coin to select me as your bride!”

It sounded awful when put like that. Christ alive, he was a fool. “I’m not saying it was the best beginning. The truth is—”

“I can’t believe I thought—”

“The truth is worse.”

Precisely what had come over him, Thomas did not know. His shoulders were heaving with his rapid breaths, his whole body was tingling with panic and a need to crush the woman into his arms, yet the look Victoria was giving him was so dark, so utterly devoid of passion.

“The truth, please, Your Grace,” Victoria said dully. “Then I can go home.”

The hell she will.

“Look,” said Thomas, hating that the truth had to come out this way but knowing there was nothing for it. “Look, I… Well, I needed money.”

And something strange shifted in her expression. Her parted lips grew into a smile. Where fear had been, mirth replaced it.

She was…laughing.

“Oh, Thomas, you really are dense,” Victoria said, her tone cutting. “You think I didn’t know you were pursuing me for my money?”

Her words echoed around the room, his mind, for what felt like several minutes but could only have been a few seconds.

“I… You…” He swallowed, unable to keep up with the ricochets of revelations. “You knew?”

“I am not a fool, Your Grace. Of course I knew,” Victoria said coldly. “The new Lord Cothrom needs money—everyone in the ton knows that. Everyone knows you lost your family’s fortune.”

Pain seared down Thomas’s ribcage like a knife. They did? The whole of Society knew how terribly he’d disappointed his family?

Worse, they didn’t know the full truth, what he had done, what he had tried to do, whom he had tried to help. And it wasn’t about that—but he was no reprobate gambler. He was not that kind of man.

“You’re a spendthrift, a wastrel.”

“I think you’ll find you’re wrong there,” he said hotly. This wasn’t precisely how he had planned to tell her about St. Thomas’s, but there was no choice now. “I have actually—”

“I knew you needed my dowry, and I made sure to lure you in.” She was speaking so matter-of-factly now, it grated at his nerves, and Victoria kept going. “I thought you would fall in love with me eventually, and—”

“So it’s you, really, who is the liar?” Thomas interrupted, a twist in his throat. “You… You were just manipulating me.”

“Manipulating a man who chose me thanks to a coin flip!” she retorted hotly.

“I chose you from a coin, but I could have ignored that. I could have pursued anyone—”

Her nostrils flared. “Oh, thank you for devaluing me even further!”

“—but I chose you,” Thomas said quietly. All the fight had gone out of him now.

How could it remain? How could he fight for something that had never existed?

She’d never cared for him. Victoria Ainsworth had seen his desperation and used it against him. She’d taken his need for money and twisted it into a sick way to entice him closer. She’d flirted with him all the way into her bed, with her eye on the prize: his title.

She’d known that once he’d been in her bed, he was honor-bound to marry her.

“I think you should leave,” Thomas said numbly.

Victoria’s eyes widened. “You think I should leave? You’re the one who—”

“Be that as it may, this is my home, not yours,” he said, barely able to see, hardly knowing what to do with his hands, his chest, all these tears that threatened to pour down his face. “Please leave, Miss Ainsworth.”

“Gladly!” snapped Victoria, tears now spilling onto her cheeks and his heart ached for her, but what could he say? “You should have this. Sell it if you want, so you can return to your gambling ways!”

Something golden shone in her hand and then it was pressed in his own. Thomas stared at the emerald-and-sapphire encrusted golden ring. Golden promise ring.

She stormed past him in a haze of lavender that made Thomas sink to his knees. The door slammed and there was silence.

Silence except for his quiet, racking sobs.