Chapter 6
Six
Maybe she would have been better off not knowing the truth—that Benedick was nothing more than a rogue, who had found his enjoyment then discarded her.
She had thought him better than the duplicity she had just discovered.
Victoria wiped a tear from her cheek as she pulled a blanket from a cabinet and carried it to the library where she worked when not at Westbrook House.
The settee was larger in here and even though she doubted that she would get any sleep, Victoria knew that she needed to try.
Tomorrow she would return to Westbrook House and put Benedick Valentine behind her.
She would also request someone else to protect her, or nobody at all.
“I will not slumber in a bed while you are sleeping on a settee.”
“You are my guest,” she said without rising from her place and bunched the pillow a little more to get comfortable.
“You are a lady and I am man.”
“I am well aware of that fact,” she answered. “Go back to bed.”
For a moment there was silence and Victoria assumed that he had gone. Just as she closed her eyes and hoped for sleep, Benedick’s arms slipped under her body and she was lifted from the settee.
“Why do you have to be so blasted stubborn,” he grumbled and marched for the door.
“What of you? I told you to go away.”
“I will not allow you to sleep on the settee, and I am certainly not going to allow you to sleep on the ground floor where windows could be broken and the assailant enter.”
“You placed guards,” Victoria argued.
“What if they do not hear your call for help or have fallen asleep?”
“I doubt anyone could sleep through this storm.” Even if she wasn’t suffering from a broken heart, and anxious from earlier in the day, the thunder and lightning would have likely kept her awake.
Benedick marched down the hall once he reached the landing, went directly to the room that Olivia had once used and tossed Victoria onto his bed.
It was a place she had hoped to be but knew that there would be no affection tonight, or ever again.
She looked up at Benedick, who stood with his hands fisted on his hips. The sight of him and his bare chest, and memories of when they had last shared a bed nearly stole her breath even though she knew she was a fool for still holding any desire or love for him.
“The passion we shared was rare.”
She looked directly into his silver eyes. “I would not know.”
“I suppose you would not,” he agreed as he sat on the side of the bed. “I wish I was not aware that…I wish everything that we had shared was a first for me as well.”
Now he was being rather melodramatic and if this was a way to make her feel better, it was not going to work.
“However, I do know that I have never wanted anyone as much as I wanted you, Victoria. I still do. There has been no other for me since that blasted house party. I have no desire to sully what we shared and would rather live the life of a monk than settle for a poor replacement in my bed.”
She sat up, uncertain if she could trust anything he said, but there was warmth and sincerity in his silver eyes.
“What of your heart?” she asked
“It too is already taken even if it will never be shared.”
“Why?”
“Because I cannot have you.”
“Why?” she asked as her heart pounded against his chest.
“I am not a wealthy man. I cannot support you. As much as I wish I could give you a home such as this, it is impossible for me.”
There was true sadness in his eyes as he stroked his thumb across the back of her hand. “I cannot offer you what you deserve. It has nothing to do with your family or mine, but the simple fact that I have no wealth, nor will I ever.”
“I am wealthy, Benedick. It does not matter that you are not.”
“It does to me. I should be the one to provide for you in a manner that you deserve, which I cannot do. If I could…” His eyes bore into hers.
“I would risk scandal and gossip to have you by my side. But a poor man does not ask the woman of his heart to reduce her circumstances no matter how much they may love the other.”
She hadn’t mentioned love, and neither had he, until now.
Which also brought anger so strong that it burned in her breast but Victoria did everything she could to hide her reaction. “I understand,” she whispered.
“I am glad that you do.”
Benedick let go of her hand and stood. “I will see you in the morning.” He then walked toward the door and she waited until he was just about to open it.
“What I understand is that your pride is more important than I am.”
He stopped and dropped his head, chin to his chest.
He should be ashamed.
“Had you learned that I was as common as you when our masks were removed, would you have pursued me?”
He stood there in silence. The only noise filling the room was thunder and rain pelting the windows.
“Would you have?” she demanded. If his answer was no, then he did not care as much as he claimed and she was better off knowing.
“Yes,” he whispered.
Her heart hitched. “Then you are a bloody fool.”
* * *
He should open the door and leave. They had both said what was needed and he had explained his position, but Benedick could not force himself to move.
If he walked out on her now, Victoria would be lost to him forever.
Eight months he had accepted that she would never be his.
He had lived with the loss and the heartache.
He had told himself that this was for the best. Even up to an hour ago he had insisted that she was above him.
But he knew that that was not true. Wealth and titles really meant nothing to Victoria. He knew that in his heart.
It was his pride that stood in the way.
It was the fact that he was in trade and his income would not support a wife in the grand style that Victoria was used to living. He would not even be able to provide her with a gown or two to attend balls so that she could convince others to donate to Westbrook House.
It did not matter that she had wealth. It mattered that he did not. It was not right that she would be the one providing a nice home and raising him above his station.
That is what bothered him. It was most definitely his pride that got in the way.
And if he let pride be the wedge between them, he would lose Victoria forever, which would be further proof that he did not deserve her.
It was different when a woman bettered her situation in life. His sisters had been lucky and had done well for themselves. And women across Society had done the same.
Gentlemen had also done the same, his father for example. Or, he had hoped to better his circumstances but had failed.
He was only one in many to marry better than they deserved. How many destitute lords married heiresses to save estates? They had not let pride get in the way.
Yet maybe they had because their value and standing in Society was tied up in their homes, horses and carriages. Marrying an heiress in those circumstances was downright mercenary, nor did they make a secret of their intentions.
Benedick did not want Victoria for any of those things. He simply wanted her. Benedick slowly turned to face her. “I love you.”
She said nothing.
“It kills me that I will not be able to provide for you. Give you this.” He held out his arms to indicate the chamber they stood in, including the entire house.
She opened her mouth as if she was going to say something but he held up his hand, palm toward her. If she spoke now, he would not be able to say what he needed to.
“Maybe it wasn't the fear of how your brother may react that horrified me, though it did flash in my mind. Maybe it wasn’t just because of the difference in our stations that caused the expression that sent you running. Even if I did not acknowledge it to myself at the time, it was because you are wealthy, beautiful, desirable, and so far above my reach.”
“I am not above your reach,” she said quietly.
“But you are,” he said as he took a step back toward the bed. “Yet you are the only woman I have ever loved.”
“I do not mind living under lesser circumstances,” she offered.
“I would never ask it of you.”
“Are you asking anything of me?”
He wasn’t so certain. He knew what he wanted, he just had to reconcile it within himself. Or maybe he needed to be certain of her and that what she said was what she truly felt.
“It is not easy. A man should be the one that provides for the woman. The one who cares and protects her.”
“You do protect me. You are doing so right now,” she pointed out, then tilted her head and looked at him. “And you care for me. You support me. Would you keep me from my duties at Westbrook House? Would you prevent me from even visiting?”
“Of course not.” How could she even ask that? He knew how important it was to her.
“Most husbands would,” she pointed out as the corner of her mouth tipped.
“Perhaps I should correct myself. Lords and men in society would forbid their wife from such activities. A philanthropic endeavor that was discussed over tea or at a luncheon was all well and good and a titled husband could accept that. But he would never allow his wife, God forbid, to work within a foundling home.”
“Likely because those women would have no idea what to do,” he returned with a chuckle. “They have no idea what the world is like beyond Mayfair.”
“We do.”
“Yes, and much of it is ugly.”
“What are you proposing, Benedick?”
That was a very good question. He knew what he wanted but could he accept that she would be the one to provide their home?
“I told you that I loved you. You did not say the same to me.” How could he consider marriage to her when it was possible that Victoria did not even love him. Maybe she was just stubborn because she hated the assumptions he had made.
“I fell in love with you at the house party. I have carried that love even though I have tried to destroy it since. I have also carried the pain of your reaction to me.”
He started to argue but this time she held up her hand to stop him from speaking.
“I did not know then what I do know now. I had clearly misinterpreted your intentions. I do understand that.”
“And you clearly do not love me anymore.”
All she needed to do was acknowledge what he just claimed and his humiliation would be complete because this whole argument had not been about whether they had a future but the misunderstandings when they last parted.
“I did not claim that I do not love you.”
His chest tightened with what he assumed was hope. It had been so long since he had felt such that he could be mistaking the sensation. “Nor do you claim that you do.”
“Nor will I tell you while you are being so stubborn and proud.”
He would have turned and walked out on her if he had not recognized the humor in her blue eyes. The challenge was there as well. He knew those eyes and the flickers of emotion well. It was all they had besides lips during that one week.
“What must I say or do to gain an answer from you?” he asked.
“Will you set your pride aside?” she returned
“That depends on your answer.”
“I will not answer unless I know where your pride will be,” Victoria countered.
“Which is evidence that you have your own pride that you are not willing to let go of.”
He had her on that point.
Victoria bit her bottom lip, tilted her head and studied him. “I believe we are at an impasse.”
“It appears that we are,” Benedick agreed because he could be just as stubborn as Victoria.
“Then there is little point in discussing this matter further.” With that, she pulled the blanket up to her chin, rolled over, bunched the pillow then snuggled down in the bed. “I am going to sleep now. Please turn down the light.”
That little minx was going to leave him wondering all night long whether she loved him or not.
She was testing him.
She was challenging him.
And if she thought he was going to leave her and return downstairs to wait for her answer, Victoria was very much mistaken.
Benedick turned and began to march back to the bed when the floorboards creaked above them.
He stopped and she looked up.
“Do you think it is the storm?”
There was more creaking, even steps above the ceiling.
Victoria’s eyes widened and Benedick picked up the knife he had set aside when he retrieved Victoria from downstairs.
“Stay here!” he ordered then slipped out of the room.