ictoria knocked on the earl's door. A kitchen maid stood beside her, holding a tray with tea and biscuits and a vase of flowers. Victoria was tempted to steady the tray because the maid was shaking so badly. When they heard nothing, Victoria knocked again.

"My lord?" she called. "It is I, Victoria."

She knew he was in there, since the doctor had just left. He'd said that the earl's condition was deteriorating at a steady pace, and had agreed to increase the dosage of medication.

She couldn't let the earl wallow in the despair of his prognosis. So she opened the door. The maid gasped and took a step back. The earl's wheelchair was pushed against a table with a sheaf of papers spread across it. He glanced at them and scowled. She thought he looked paler this morning, the lines on his face deeper. She knew he wouldn't want her pity, but he had it anyway.

She gave him a bright smile and motioned for the maid to set the tray on a side table. Then the girl fled, closing the door behind her.

"I picked flowers this morning to brighten your room, my lord. Where shall I put them?"

"Away from me. The smell annoys me."

Her smile faltered just a little. "Well, the colors are cheerful. I'll put them in this corner."

With his spectacles on his nose, he looked down at his papers.

"Am I disturbing you, my lord?"

"Yes."

She knew he was trying to frighten her away, just as he did to everyone. "I won't take long. Shall I pour you some tea?"

"No."

"Then I'll help myself."

She was proud that her hand didn't shake as she poured her cup. After setting a plate of biscuits at the earl's table, she pulled up a chair nearby.

"Would you care for a biscuit, my lord?" she asked.

When he ignored her, she helped herself to one.

"You've had enough of those, haven't you?"

She choked, then sipped tea until she could swallow, remembering that he was a man in pain.

"I do enjoy biscuits," she said ruefully. "I'll have to stay away from them to fit into all the beautiful gowns your son was generous enough to give me."

"He obviously didn't want to be embarrassed by you." The earl calmly turned over a paper to continue reading.

"And I don't blame him," she said softly. "I'm the first to admit that I'm uncomfortable in your world."

He looked at her coldly. "Then why are you here?"

Did he truly not know the real reason for the wedding? She didn't know what she was supposed to keep hidden.

"Because Lord Thurlow asked me to marry him."

"Why?"

"You'll have to discuss his reasons with him, my lord."

"I think he married you out of pity."

She remained silent, knowing he was partly right.

"He felt sorry for you. Father dead, money gone. Shelby was my banker— I know what state he left you in. Contemptuous. Yet you accepted the proposal. Can you live with the fact that now he'll never be able to marry a woman of his own class?"

Her throat was tight, but she found she didn't want to cry. "My lord, I have no choice but to live with that. I will do my best as his wife."

"Even if it means putting up with me."

"I don't see you as someone to put up with, my lord. You are my husband's father and deserve my respect."

"Are you asking to befriend me?" he scoffed.

"I cannot aspire to that. But I would like your acceptance."

"You fulfill your function and bear my grandchild. That's all I want from you."

She stiffened at his crudity, but she couldn't be surprised by what he expected from her. "Perhaps your son needs something more from the both of us."

He put his hands flat on the table. "Are you, a mere slip of a girl, trying to tell me how to be a father?"

"I wouldn't dream of that, my lord. I'm trying to figure out how to be a wife."

"Then go figure it out somewhere else."

"Of course. Shall I leave the tea?"

He raised his voice and pointed at the door. "Take it and get out!"

Only when Victoria was in the corridor did she remember to breathe. Strangely, she didn't feel like crying. She felt a resolve to the depths of her soul. These two men needed her help. But how?

Victoria spent an hour with her music late in the afternoon, using it to soothe herself before facing her husband at dinner. She was surprised when Smith interrupted her.

"My lady, your dinner guest has arrived."

Victoria froze at the piano. "Dinner guest? Is Lord Thurlow at home?"

"No, my lady, but I'm certain he'll be home momentarily. Lord Wade is down in the drawing room."

Once again, her husband had made plans without informing her. She sighed.

"Oh goodness." She looked down at her gown. "Am I dressed well enough for a dinner?"

Smith cleared his throat. "My lady, I'm not the one to judge such a thing."

"Of course. Is Lord Banstead going to be joining us?"

"No, my lady."

She nodded, ashamed to feel relieved. "Do tell Lord Wade that I shall be down momentarily."

Victoria walked up to her room at an unladylike pace and examined her hair. There was no time to change into a more formal gown for dinner. She felt frazzled at the thought of entertaining Lord Wade alone, even though she'd already spent an afternoon in his company. Thank goodness Lord Wade was the talkative sort. Didn't she have a list of conversation topics with men in one of her journals? It had been so long since she'd had to use that particular list, and she didn't have time to go searching for it now. She hastened to her mother's room, thinking she'd have to force her mother to join them.

But her mother only studied her briefly before saying, "Of course I'll have dinner with you and Lord Wade, Victoria. Just help me change."

Victoria's relief only lasted until she looked at the mantel clock. "Oh dear, the gentleman has already been waiting for half an hour. Do hurry!"

Soon they were walking arm in arm into the drawing room, her mother in her customary black, and Victoria in pale green. Lord Wade was standing near the piano, looking through sheet music. He glanced up when they entered, giving them a wide grin.

"Lady Thurlow, you look lovely this evening." Lord Wade came forward, bowing low so that a tumble of blond hair fell across his forehead. "Mrs. Shelby, your beauty continues to shine through your daughter."

Her mother gave a little curtsy and a half smile, but said nothing. Victoria hoped it was not going to be another of her mother's silent spells.

"Lord Wade," Victoria began, "I must apologize for my husband's absence. I have no idea what is keeping him."

Lord Wade studied her, his dimples deepening. "Thurlow forgot to mention my invitation, eh?"

She smiled and gave a little shrug.

"He does get caught up in whatever he's working on. Must be the railway, as Parliament isn't meeting today."

Victoria had never asked Lord Thurlow what she was supposed to keep secret. But Lord Wade already seemed to know.

"The railway?" her mother asked in confusion. "Is Lord Thurlow going on a journey without his wife?"

Lord Wade gave Victoria an apologetic look.

"No, Mama, he invests in a railway company."

Her mother shuddered. "I would never ride on a machine. I hear they cause milk cows to stop producing!"

"Only a rumor, Mrs. Shelby," Lord Wade said.

"Do sit down, Lord Wade," Victoria said. "We'll delay dinner a bit in hopes that my husband will soon join us."

Lord Wade rubbed his hands together and grinned. "Then I'll have time to relate to you how Thurlow became so fascinated by trains. Wouldn't want him to overhear, of course."

Victoria smiled. "I'm quite interested in anything you have to say."

"Because it's about your husband," he said with a sigh. "Usually the ladies like listening to me because of my way with words."

"I'm certain I'll be very impressed."

"Remember to let me know," he said with a serious expression and a twinkle in his eye. "Let's see, it was four years ago, I think, and we were on holiday from Oxford. The Southwestern Railway had just opened the line to Southampton, which happened to run very near one of the Banstead estates." He glanced at her mother. "No cattle were terrorized, Mrs. Shelby."

"That's good to hear," she said primly.

Victoria smiled with pleasure.

"We received word at the house that a train had come to an unscheduled stop nearby, so Thurlow went racing to it, tiring a very good horse in the process." He glanced at her mother. "The horse seemed unperturbed by the train."

"I'm glad," Mama said, obviously trying not to smile.

"Come to find out," he continued, "they'd run out of coal. Thurlow couldn't wait to be of help— all he asked was that they let him see how they run the engine. So he had the servants loading coal on every cart and wagon they had. I couldn't even recognize him because he got so filthy himself. I, naturally, made myself useful by calming the ladies left stranded on the train."

"How good of you," Victoria said.

"Yes, they would have quite run wild. But Thurlow had his engine demonstration, and an obsession was born."

"And did you make many new acquaintances?" Victoria asked, smiling.

"Several. Some of them were even unmarried."

"Lord Wade!" her mother scolded.

But to Victoria's delight, her mother seemed more amused than anything else.

They eventually went in to dinner, and Lord Wade changed the subject as a dish of turbot and lobster sauce was brought in. "Did you receive the invitation to the Duke of Sutterly's ball?"

Victoria shrugged and smiled. "I'm not sure, Lord Wade, but doubtless we won't be attending."

He studied her, his smile fading. When he looked so serious, she knew an intellectual man hid behind those green eyes.

"I had thought for sure once Thurlow married…" he began in a soft voice. "Forgive me for being blunt, my lady, but Thurlow can be an ass."

She gave a shocked gasp, glancing at her mother in hopes that the woman wouldn't leave the room in protest.

But her mother smiled and nodded. "Like father, like son."

Lord Wade laughed aloud.

"Mama, please!"

"No, no, the fault is mine," Lord Wade said, waving his fork. "Thurlow is like a brother to me, but at times— "

"At times what?" Lord Thurlow asked as he came through the doorway.

He seemed to actually be hurrying.

Victoria rose to her feet. "Good evening, my lord."

Lord Thurlow walked to her, his frock coat spattered with rain across his broad shoulders. For the first time, she saw embarrassment in his eyes, as if he remembered his vow to treat her better. She felt…respected. And it made him so much more appealing.

"Victoria, forgive my tardiness. A meeting was delayed."

"Of course, my lord."

She knew she was looking at him with hope in her eyes, as a woman being courted instead of only as a wife.

His gaze lingered on her before he finally turned to his friend. "Now Wade, what were you saying?"

"I was saying, you're an ass," Lord Wade repeated cheerfully.

Lord Thurlow sighed. "Ladies, you must forgive him his crudity."

"He doesn't need my forgiveness," Victoria's mother said, continuing to eat.

Lord Thurlow shot her a surprised look, but his amused attention went back to Lord Wade.

"And why would you use such a vulgarity, Wade?" he asked.

"Because you haven't informed your lovely wife about Sutterly's ball."

"I didn't know about it myself."

"Still throwing away all the invitations unread?"

Lord Thurlow took his place at the table and motioned to one of the footmen, who brought him a steaming plate. "I may not read the post immediately, but I do get to it all eventually."

"Then you should also get around to accepting an occasional invitation once in a while."

As Victoria ate, she wondered about Lord Thurlow and his preference for socializing with businessmen instead of the ton. She liked the serenity of home— even her new home— but wouldn't going out into society again be good for her husband? People forget every scandal eventually.

"When an event is of importance," Lord Thurlow said, "I'll attend. Are you planning on hosting a party?"

"In my bachelor's flat?" Lord Wade said with a snort. "You know that's not likely."

"What about at your grandmother's estate? It's near enough to London. You could host a house party."

Lord Wade actually paled. "For an entire weekend?"

"I— we would attend, just to help keep you respectable," Lord Thurlow said, glancing at Victoria. "Wouldn't we?"

"Of course, my lord."

If he was going to say something else, he seemed to forget. Instead his gaze roamed down her body in a lingering fashion, so intent she could almost feel it as a touch along her skin. A blush rose to overtake her face, and she prayed no one noticed.

After dinner, Lord Thurlow escorted Victoria and her mother up to the drawing room, assuring her that he and Lord Wade would be joining them momentarily. And then he went back down to the dining room and firmly shut the door.

Victoria put her hands on her hips and frowned.

"Why are you upset, my dear?" her mother asked, taking a seat on an overstuffed chair near the bare hearth.

Why was she upset? Gentlemen usually wanted time away from the ladies after dinner. But listening to the men talk revealed so much about her husband. She didn't want to miss any of it.

"It's nothing, Mama." She found her needle-work where she'd left it. She liked to lose herself in the colors and textures, to examine the possibilities of the designs only she could create. But tonight it did not soothe her mind.

Then she realized with shock that her mother had also begun her own.

Her mother took a few stitches, then without lifting her head, said, "Frowning will give your forehead wrinkles, my dear."

Victoria tried to smile, but her pleasure at her mother's progress slowly faded as she imagined what her husband and his friend were discussing. Would Lord Wade try to talk Lord Thurlow into attending the ball?