Chapter Five
Two Months Later
Victoria fingered the ruby and garnet ring on her third finger, tracing the intricate network of gold prongs used to create the cluster of red and pink stones set into a ring that had once belonged to Blackwood’s mother.
Even though she’d known the proposal had been coming, she’d still been struck quite breathless when the words had been spoken—when the viscount had offered her the ring and asked for her hand.
Much to Luke’s chagrin, Blackwood had already obtained her father’s blessing for the match, but Victoria appreciated that he still thought to allow her to ultimately accept or decline.
They had Papa’s approval. She and Lord Blackwood got on extremely well.
The marriage would be societally advantageous both in England and America, where the novelty of peerage would make her quite fashionable.
She was quite attracted to the viscount.
And, perhaps most of all, she could not stop thinking about their first stolen kiss in the darkened hallway.
Not since that night had he attempted to repeat the interaction, but that did not stop Victoria from experiencing little frissons of excitement each time he touched her.
No matter how innocent the gesture—whether helping her alight from a carriage or leading her to the floor for a dance—her heart reacted as if it were in mortal danger of being lost forever.
The sensation was foreign and wretchedly inconvenient when one was attempting to maintain one’s composure.
As soon as Luke discovered that their father had given his permission to Blackwood to formally court Victoria, her brother had immediately set about doing his best to convince her to discourage the match.
Each time “Viscount B” was mentioned in the tabloids, he handed it to her over breakfast; each time he garnered a new bit of gossip about Blackwood’s history with women, he made sure to share it with her; each time they attended the same function, Luke would make no effort to mask his distaste over the possibility that his sister would marry an Englishman.
“What has he done?” Victoria finally demanded on the carriage ride home one evening after a night at the theater.
They’d once more been invited to accompany the Duke and Duchess of Morton in their private box; Luke and Blackwood had been invited as well.
Much to Victoria’s mortification, Luke had done everything in his power to make the evening as uncomfortable as possible.
Long silences, narrowed eyes, and suspicious glances were cast in Blackwood’s direction the entire evening.
Luke did such a poor job of hiding his disdain for the man that Victoria recognized hints of discomfort in their hosts’ demeanors—and the Mortons were not easily unsettled people.
“Why did you feel the need to behave in such a manner? You are not usually so careless or graceless, Luke!”
At least he’d had the good grace to cast his eyes downward in a minor show of regret before he leaned back against the squab, crossed his arms over his chest, and said, “He’s nothing more than another fortune-hunter.”
“Who? Blackwood?” Victoria asked with a frown.
Luke grunted. “Did you know the Blackwood title is all but impoverished?”
Victoria reared back at the comment. The viscount certainly did not dress or carry himself like a man without funds, but what she found more shocking was the fact that her brother had invested the time and energy into ferreting out the information.
“So, you hired an investigator to look into him?” The more she’d pondered it, the more the idea had made her skin burn.
Who was her brother to perform such an invasion?
“Of course I did! Someone had to; Papa has ridden out with Blackwood a handful of times and all but welcomed him into the family. Don’t you wish to know why the man did not disclose this information to you himself?”
Victoria’s stomach made an uneasy lurch.
Of course, she would have preferred to know the viscount’s financial circumstances, but she could understand why he might not have discussed it with her.
What man wanted to admit that he had pockets to let…
let alone an English lord? The English were all about appearances, she’d learned, and to tear down the facade of one’s wealth would be a terrible sin.
A mortification from which one would likely never recover.
The fact that Blackwood had so carefully guarded his dire financial straits made her experience a wave of protectiveness for him, which was odd.
Didn’t this put Blackwood in the same category as every other fortune-hunter who’d pursued her in London?
Didn’t it? But, for some reason, it didn’t.
She wanted to feel the same righteous indignation Luke did; she didn’t care for the unfamiliar position of disagreeing with Luke’s opinion of the man.
Never had they been so at odds, and perhaps the stakes had something to do with that.
Victoria’s future hung in the balance.
“I believe it is actually quite easy to understand why a man might not wish to disclose this information in casual conversation.”
“But he hid it—”
“Would you rather he dressed in rags? Wear a sign disclosing his worth?”
Luke narrowed his eyes at her, but he did not argue against her logic.
“You are not being entirely fair to him.”
“Fair?” Luke scoffed. “Fair would be for a man not to be so duplicitous when it involves my sister. Blackwood approached you under the guise of friendship, did he not? He ingratiated himself with you, and then with Papa, and now he has his future all but secured with an heiress.”
Victoria’s face flushed. “And do you not think that I resigned myself long ago to the fact that money would always be a factor in whatever match I made?” Luke’s mouth snapped shut as she continued.
“Mightn’t it also be feasible that a man could like me for who I am, recognize that I might make an admirable partner, and my inheritance would only be a boon?
” Victoria knew this might have been an optimistic exaggeration of her relationship with Blackwood.
Still, her pride had been wounded by Luke’s insistence that the viscount was pursuing her only for her money.
Not for the first time, she told herself that it wasn’t unreasonable to believe that his offer of friendship had been sincere, and his desire to wed her had developed over the course of their acquaintance.
She wanted to believe it with quiet desperation.
“Is it so unbelievable that a man might also want me?” Victoria’s voice cracked painfully.
“You know that is not what I am saying, Victoria,” Luke huffed and then scrubbed at his face.
“Isn’t it?”
“No! It is only one of many items that make him unsuitable for you,” Luke said with all the confidence of a professor about to launch into a lengthy diatribe.
He listed each of Blackwood’s perceived sins, from what the tabloids said about his numerous mistresses, his torrid affairs, his debauched activities, and his rakehell antics with his group of close friends.
“This does not seem to me like a man who wishes to take a wife and live as a married man should.”
Each of Luke’s marks against Blackwood only made Victoria’s fists clench more tightly.
He was being unfair. Of course, Blackwood was no saint—she firmly believed any man who claimed to be one was likely closer to devil than angel—but never had he ever made her feel unsafe, manipulated, or used.
What was worse, Luke seemed to be placing so much weight upon what was being said in the tabloids, as if they were the preeminent authority on all things that summed up a man’s worth.
How often had he told her that she should ignore what those articles said?
How often had Luke reassured her that those tabloids were worth less than the paper on which they were printed?
And now, there he was, using them against Blackwood.
The hypocrisy was almost more than she could handle.
They arrived at their rented home, and Luke followed her as she stormed up the stairs. Victoria hadn’t realized she’d begun to shed angry, frustrated tears until her father, seeing how distraught she was as she attempted to storm past him and toward her own chamber, caught her arm.
“What has happened?” he asked, looking between his children. He must have returned from his appointment some time prior because he’d already removed his coat and unwound his cravat.
“Luke is determined to warn me off Viscount Blackwood as a suitor.”
“And she is determined to paint him as a paragon when he’s hidden his deplorable financial status from her—from us!”
Her father’s head whipped toward Luke. “What?”
“Blackwood! He has hardly two shillings to rub together. He—”
“I heard you,” their father suddenly snapped, startling both of them. “What I want to know is how you came upon that information.”
Luke stood a little straighter, much like when he’d been a boy and was preparing himself for a lecture. “I made discreet inquiries of the right people,” he explained.
“Because you did not trust my judgment when it came to Victoria’s suitor?
” Papa said icily. Luke’s jaw tightened.
“Do you think I would entrust her care with just anyone? That I would not do my due diligence?” This finally seemed to cow Luke and quell the strength of his fire.
“I would not be where I am today if I were so negligent, and you would do well to remember that.”
“Yes, sir,” Luke replied steadily.
“I will not listen to another word about this. I have given my blessing, and that is final.” Papa looked at her. “At least until Victoria decides to accept or decline the match.” She squeezed her father’s hand in gratitude and slipped off to her chamber.
Her maid helped her to change into her nightshift and wrapper before retiring for the evening, leaving Victoria to curl up in a chair before the hearth and stare pensively into the flames.
She had always known that no man was ever going to come along and be entirely immune to the size of all she stood to inherit—of all her family held and controlled. It was the least she could do to marry a man she liked.
And she had come to like Blackwood a great deal.
There was a tentative knock upon her door before Luke’s dark head poked into the room.
“I thought you might still be awake,” he said quietly.
“If you’ve come to berate me some more, you can turn around right now and take a long walk into the Thames.”
He emitted a single low chuckle before entering the room and pressing the door closed behind him. He did not ask permission before taking up the chair across from her.
She wanted to be childish and ignore him until he left her alone, but his heavy sigh made her hesitate.
“You do know I am only trying to look out for you, don’t you?” he finally asked, gently, plaintively. It was not a tone she was used to hearing from her brother.
“I do,” she responded only slightly begrudgingly. “But I also do not feel that it is fair of you to villainize Lord Blackwood.”
“And I do not believe it is fair to you to tie yourself to a man with a rakish reputation and a poor financial record.”
“Oh, Luke…” she chided him gently and reached across the space to pat his hand.
“We have been the subjects of gossip since we set foot on this island; we have laughed over the inaccuracies and exaggerations contained in the tabloids. Should we not be some of the first people to recognize that sensationalized accounts might be just that? A way to sell more papers? Besides, no man was ever going to be good enough for me in your eyes…no matter who he was.” Her brother’s countenance darkened, but he did not refute her statements.
“Blackwood has been nothing but kind and solicitous to me, and I have no reason to believe we will not be content in our marriage.”
“I do not care to think you are settling.”
Victoria scoffed lightly. “If I were resigned to settling, then I would have accepted any of the other half-dozen offers over the past few years.” She sighed and slumped back into her chair.
“You cannot understand what it is like for a woman who comes from wealth. No matter how long I wait, I will never be able to tell who wants my attention for my money, and who wants me for me. Do not frown at me, Luke. Your priority has been Rockford Shipping, and marriage is quite possibly the furthest thing from your mind, though perhaps one day you may consider it.” She ignored his dismissive snort.
“Rockford Shipping is your destiny, but it cannot be mine. I came to terms long ago with the fact that my inheritance would play at least a small part in whatever match I accepted. While I appreciate how much you care, I can only do my best to reassure you that I am not making a grave mistake, and trust that Papa’s safeguards for my inheritance will keep me secure in any circumstances.
“Blackwood may have a reputation, his title may not have limitless funds, but I believe in my heart that he is earnest. Or at least dedicated and determined enough to persist and stand out amongst the other men here in London and even convince Papa of his worthiness.” She knew their father’s effusive praise of Lord Blackwood had been grating on Luke, but she couldn’t resist reminding him of it.
As amiable as he could be, not many men could say they’d worked their way into the elder Mr. Rockford’s private circle.
Except Blackwood.
Only Blackwood.
The viscount was charming, persistent, friendly, and he made her laugh.
Besides, he had impressed her father, which was perhaps the most important and remarkable thing of all.
If her father trusted him, then Victoria would as well.
Papa had never led her astray before, and she had to believe there were reasons he felt Blackwood was a suitable match.
Even if she was not privy to all her father’s thoughts on the matter, the fact remained that her father had given his blessing and would support the match.
Despite Luke’s best attempts to change her mind, she accepted Blackwood’s formal proposal, and she would go through with the wedding. There would be no turning back after that.