avid came up on his elbows and stared down at Victoria, all pink with passion, her eyes sleepy and satisfied.

"Am I too heavy for you?" he asked.

"Never," she whispered.

He lowered himself fully, and she gave a strangled gasp before he rose up again.

"I can be too heavy," he insisted.

She smiled. "Maybe."

He slid off her and watched as her eyes blinked slowly, so slowly.

"Thank you for taking your time with me," she whispered.

She nuzzled her head against his arm, getting comfortable.

"You're welcome."

She was asleep almost immediately, naked on top of the bed. He pulled down the blankets on his half, then slid her within and covered her right to her chin— as if not looking at her would somehow stop this obsession for her that seemed uncomfortably large.

He didn't want to recognize the feelings that fought within him— he didn't want to consider them, to think how his marriage had changed.

Then why did it feel as if everything in his life now revolved around Victoria, instead of his own meticulous plans?

He quietly picked up her garments and laid them over the chaise, then gathered his own clothes and took them to his room. His bed was cold and lonely, but…safe.

Victoria felt the sun before she even opened her eyes. She stretched with blissful contentment, then turned her head to say good morning to her husband.

But David wasn't there.

He had his own bedroom, of course. Her parents had slept in separate rooms. But somehow she'd hoped her marriage might be different.

It truly was, she reminded herself. David had shown her everything she could hope for in a husband. He would confide in her now, tell her things that—

But would she confide in him?

A cold feeling weighted her heart. What would he say if she revealed her father's suicide? That she had lied to him, lured him into marriage with a falsehood, when he'd told her during his proposal how he felt about scandal? What would he think about her lies now, after they'd shared this ultimate intimacy?

She would not consider it. She knew now how bothered he'd been by the scandals of his household, how prideful he was. She could keep this secret. What did a commoner's death matter to anyone? No one knew, except her mother and sisters, and they wouldn't tell.

This decision had been made a year ago; she would not betray her family now— or her father's memory.

Not even for her husband.

Covered in a warm dressing gown, she sat down at her desk and opened the drawer where she kept her journals. What could she write? How could she describe what she'd experienced in David's arms? She closed the drawer.

After bathing and dressing, she went down for a late breakfast. To her surprise, David was just leaving his study. He looked up as she came down the stairs, and she gave him a radiant smile, feeling self-conscious but happy. Just seeing him made her want to shiver as she remembered what his hands had done to her, how he'd made her feel.

He nodded and returned her smile, but it seemed…too normal, almost distant.

"Good morning, Victoria."

His voice still moved her. "Good morning, David. Did you sleep well?"

Oh goodness. She might just as well have asked him why he left her bed.

"I did, thank you. And yourself?" He looked down at a sheaf of papers he was putting into a satchel.

A clutch of sadness hit her heart. It was as if he didn't care.

"I slept just fine." She wanted to say something funny, like he'd exhausted her, but his remote expression kept the words locked in her throat.

"I can't ride with you this morning," he said. "I have a meeting scheduled with my steward about our Scotland properties."

"Of course," she murmured.

"What time would you like to leave this evening?"

"Leave?"

"The masquerade begins at ten o'clock."

"Masquerade?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I assumed you now wished to attend every important event of the ton."

"Of course," she said quickly. "I'll be ready before ten."

"Perhaps you should be ready at seven. We have a dinner with the prime minister at eight."

"Oh." Her head was whirling. But this was what she'd wanted.

Yet— why suddenly did it feel as if he was keeping her busy, keeping a wall between them?

After he'd gone, she stared at the front door, considering what might have happened between last night and today. Did he sense her deceit? Or had she foolishly thought lovemaking would solve everything? He knew her body, but after all, he didn't know the secrets in her mind. How could she think to know everything about him?

After his meeting with the steward, David took a carriage to Southern Railway, and tried to think of the business ahead instead of his wife.

His radiant wife, whose face had lit like the sun when she'd seen him that morning.

Part of him had wanted to sweep her into his arms, to greet her as if the hours apart had been too long. And they had been. He had had a difficult time sleeping, knowing he could have been warm at her side instead of alone.

What was wrong with him? He had every night from now on to be alone with Victoria— hell, he could take her during the day if he wanted. And the moment he'd seen her, he'd wanted to.

As if he didn't have any control.

He was already making a spectacle of himself.

That afternoon, when Victoria arrived home and went to her bedroom to prepare for the evening, she noticed that the household journal was lying on her desk, not where she'd left it. She opened it and found that David had penned the words, Until tonight.

She closed her eyes as memories of their mutual desire awoke within her. How could she honestly worry about their marriage if they shared this?

She was still staring at the notebook when her mother knocked and peered around the door.

"Victoria?"

"Come in, Mama."

Her mother seemed strangely restless, moving about the room, distractedly touching furniture and rearranging pillows. Victoria watched her silently, waiting. When her mother stared out the window, Victoria knew she was seeing none of it.

"Mama? Is something wrong?"

Her mother sighed. "Anna mentioned that she…saw you arrive home last night."

Victoria felt a blush coming on. She understood her mother's implication.

"And I was in the library this morning," Mama continued, "and overheard you and your husband."

Even as Victoria told herself that this was nothing, she stiffened. "Yes?"

Her mother turned from the window and stared at her with plaintive eyes. "Oh, Victoria, do not be offended. You'll soon have children, and understand that we mothers only want what is best for them."

"You do?" She heard the cruel sarcasm in her own voice, and she was horrified.

Her mother flinched as if she'd been slapped.

"Oh, Mama, please, I'm sorry. I meant— "

"No— no, Victoria, you owe me no apology. I have tried to do my best, but I have not always been a good mother. I knew your happiness lay with marriage, and I pushed you toward it."

"You shouldn't have pushed so hard," Victoria said quietly.

"Perhaps. But now you have a marriage worth fighting for."

"You don't think I know that?"

Her mother hung her head. "I just don't want you to make the same mistakes I did."

Victoria held her breath, waiting.

"I thought your father and I were happy at the beginning. I let his silences go, believing that he would turn to me when he needed me." She sighed. "And all that did was gradually make him think he didn't need to tell me everything."

"Just like you didn't tell my sisters and me." Victoria was shocked at her own words, but wouldn't take them back, not anymore. Had she always had this anger locked away inside her?

Mama sank onto the edge of the bed and huddled there. "I didn't know at first that your father's finances were going badly. We'd spent so much of our marriage avoiding conflict that I was used to avoiding…everything unpleasant. And then when it became difficult to pay the staff, he couldn't hide our desperate situation from me any longer."

"But you kept hiding it from us." Victoria's throat choked with emotion. "We trusted you!"

Mama buried her face in her hands, shaking, and Victoria just continued to watch until her mother reestablished her control.

"I wanted to protect you," her mother whispered. "That's all I ever wanted. Until the end, I thought I could help you girls find husbands, save you before you had to bear this terrible knowledge of our disgrace. Why do you think I have been so lost? I failed you!"

"Father didn't want to protect us," Victoria said bitterly. "He took the easy way out."

Her mother gave a quiet sob and covered her mouth with one hand. Then she looked up with red eyes. "Yes, yes, I know that now. He was…a coward. Somehow he became a man I didn't know. And I let it happen…gradually, quietly, one loss at a time. I don't want that for you."

Victoria bit her lip as she felt a rush of tears. She sat down next to her mother, and suddenly the words she wanted to share poured out of her. "I love him, Mama. But this morning, he seemed…distant, like a stranger again. I don't know what to do."

"Don't let him keep his silences, Victoria. You both need to talk."

"How can I expect him to talk to me when I can't really talk to him?"

"What do you mean?"

"I can't tell him about— about Father. David has experienced enough heartache that was not of his own doing."

Her mother softly snorted. "And we know where that scandal came from. But Victoria, your secret will poison your marriage."

"You want me to tell him?" she said in astonishment. "Meriel, Louisa, and I swore to you that we would keep this silent forever."

"I did not say tell the world— just your husband. Do you trust him to share your secret?"

Tears stung Victoria's eyes. "I— I don't know. I would have thought…after last night…but this morning— " She broke off, knowing she was making no sense.

"I saw your smile this morning, Victoria," she said gently. "You are a woman in love."

"But is he in love, Mama? He looked at me today like— like— "

"Like a man who doesn't know what to do with his emotions, like a man taking the safe way out. And that won't make a successful marriage, not in the end. Trust me, passion itself is not enough."

"But what should I do? Do you think he senses that I'm not telling him everything?"

"I don't know, my dear, but if the secret is bothering you, can you live the rest of your life with it between you and your husband?"

Victoria slumped, and felt grateful when her mother gently slid her arm about her shoulders. "Oh, Mama, this is all so complicated."

"Yes, it is. But you can make it work, Victoria. Look at all you've accomplished already. I'm so proud of you."

Victoria hugged her mother, finally letting her tears ago. "Thank you, Mama."

Victoria approached the evening with a new determination. She wasn't sure what she was going to do about her terrible family secret, but she knew she couldn't take David's empty politeness for the rest of her life. She would force him to acknowledge her with other emotions. She would be a part of his life, and not live separately, as her parents had done in the end. She would prove to David that she was worth trusting— worth loving.

In the carriage on the way from the prime minister's dinner to the masquerade, she watched David, looking so serene and inscrutable. Then she leaned over, her hand on his knee, and kissed him.

There was no hesitation as he kissed her back with passion and heat and promise. Physically, they had no problems staying connected.

"Maybe we don't have to attend this one," David murmured as he kissed his way down to her neckline.

She groaned as he licked down her cleavage. "We accepted, so we're attending. Now help me put my costume on."

"Is that what was in the bag?"

From a satchel Victoria pulled out a fan of tall multicolored feathers. "Anna made it for me. Here, attach this to the little buttons she sewed on the back of my bodice."

She turned until her back was to the lantern, then waited patiently while David struggled.

"She could have made the buttons larger," he grumbled.

"And then they would have been seen by everyone at dinner. Such a scandal," she added teasingly.

He pinched her waist, and she squirmed and giggled.

"So what are you?" he asked.

"Can't you tell?" She turned back to face him, holding an elaborate mask up to her face. Feathers curled everywhere.

"A bird?" he said.

"A peacock! Really David, you didn't try very hard."

"Sorry."

His smile could surely cause winter to become spring, and she basked for a moment in its warmth.

"What are you going to be?" she asked.

His hand began a slow slide over her hip and up her torso.

"What a man always is. Mysterious."

Her laugh turned into a moan as he cupped her breast. "Oh, David. Be serious."

"I am. I'll be wearing a mask. Very mysterious."

He started to lean over her, and she held him back. "Now, David, you mustn't crush my feathers. And we're slowing down."

She could see his disappointment, and it gave her a warm feeling of satisfaction.

After they came to a stop, the door was opened by their footman. David stepped down, and Victoria suddenly heard someone calling his name.

"Lord Thurlow, don't go in. Ye must wait!"

Victoria slid to the edge of the bench so she could lean her head out the door. The boy who worked at Southern Railway was breathing heavily, even though he clutched the reins of a drooping old horse.

"It's a 'mergency meeting, milord," he said. "Mr. Bannaster said for you to come to the office."

David cursed aloud. "Very well. Do you want to ride with us? We can tie your horse up behind."

"Ye'd never go fast enough, milord. I'll meet ye there."

David swung back inside and shut the door.

Victoria watched him solemnly. "What do you think is wrong?"

"I don't know. We're all set to announce the merger tomorrow and sign the paperwork. There's no reason to think the worst."

"You're obviously better at remaining calm than I am," she said with a sigh.

They silently turned to look out their respective windows. She reached for his hand, and he held hers.

When they reached Southern Railway, she said, "I can wait in the carriage if it would be awkward to have me inside."

He took her hand. "I made that mistake once— I won't do it again. Come on."

Southern Railway had an outer office full of paper-strewn desks off a long corridor, and doors leading to several inner offices. The directors were milling about, talking excitedly, but they went silent when they saw David. Victoria thought they looked worried, not panicked, which made her feel a little better. Some of them gave her puzzled looks, and it took her a moment to remember that she was wearing feathers at her back.

"We were going to a masquerade," she said with a shrug.

"Were you a partridge?" Mr. Staplehill asked.

Was her costume that bad? "I'm a peacock!"

Mr. Bannaster opened the door to an inner office. "We're worried Norton might know about the merger."

Everyone filed into the other office and closed the door. Victoria found a chair in the corner near the main door and sat down to wait.

It wasn't long before she heard voices out in the corridor. Bored, she leaned her head against the wall, and the words became clearer.

"How dare you follow me to the office!"

She would recognize that indignant voice anywhere— Mr. Perry, who'd sounded just like that when he'd stormed out of her dinner party.

The other man was a stranger. "Ye're takin' his threats too lightly, mate. He doesn't want ye throwin' in your shares with Southern. He'll offer ye more."

"I would never do business with such an under-handed scoundrel. Imagine threatening a man's daughter!"

Did he mean Prudence? Victoria sat up straighter. She wanted to alert David, but she was afraid to miss something important.

"It's not a threat, mate. She's a pretty piece, your daughter. I can make sure no good man'll have her."

"She's well guarded— you won't get near her. Now take your cowardly threats and leave!"

The door slammed open, narrowly missing Victoria in the corner. Mr. Perry marched across the room and disappeared into the office. She held her breath. Had the criminal gone?

"Well guarded, is she?" said a low voice just outside the door. "What a nice challenge."

Victoria remained unmoving until she heard the front door slam at the end of the corridor. Then she ran across the room and threw open the door to the inner office.

"Mr. Perry!" she cried.

They all turned to look at her.

"I overheard that man after you left. He said it was a nice challenge that you'd left your daughter well guarded."

David said, "Victoria, what are you talking about?"

But Mr. Perry clutched the back of a chair and swayed. "I've got to go, my lord. I didn't want to tell you— I thought I could handle it myself, but— Norton has threatened to compromise my daughter if I don't sell to him."

And then he was running past Victoria, breathing heavily.

"Wait, we'll take my carriage!" David followed him.

Victoria and the rest of the directors trailed behind. As she came outside, by gas lamp she watched Mr. Perry mount his horse.

"Your carriage will take too long, Thurlow. I can't wait!"

Men scattered looking for their horses and carriages. Victoria lifted her skirts and ran after David, who lifted her by the waist into the carriage.

"To Perry's!" he shouted up at his coachman. He got in beside her and slammed the door shut. "You know I would have left you there if I thought it was safe."

"I know, but I must come. Prudence might need me."

By the time the caravan arrived at Mr. Perry's town house, there was already a brawl outside the gates, and a steady rain had begun to fall. Underneath a gas lamp, two hulking guards— obviously hired by Mr. Perry— watched in bemusement, and Victoria realized it was Mr. Perry fighting the henchman himself. Why had he not allowed the guards to help him?

He was far too old for such an endeavor, and it was obvious he would soon lose by the way he staggered back from a particularly nasty blow.

David jumped down from the carriage. "That's enough!"

Leaning even farther out the door, Victoria winced as David caught the henchman around the neck. The henchman struggled violently, until David spun him around and punched him hard in the stomach. With a groan, he collapsed to his knees.

"Let's go find Norton," David said, dragging the henchman back to his feet. "Who's got a horse we can tie him to?"

While the railway directors put forth various horses, the henchman kept saying, "I don't know any Norton."

When he was slung facefirst over the horse and tied down, David lifted his head by the hair. "So you want us to take you to the police? How noble of you to accept the blame for everything. I'm sure Norton will send you food in jail."

"All right, all right!" the henchman said. "He paid me. I was just goin' to kiss the girl, maybe scare her a bit."

Mr. Hutton held back Mr. Perry.

"That's my daughter you're talking about!" Mr. Perry yelled.

"Let's go see Norton," David said.

Everyone scrambled for their horses and carriages, and Mr. Bannaster led the henchman's horse. David looked up at Victoria.

"I'm not staying here," she said.

"But I thought Prudence needed you."

"I'm sure she's sound asleep in her bed. You need me more."

"I do?"

"Yes. Or at least I need to be with you. Now do you want everyone to reach Mr. Norton before we do?"

"To Norton's!" David yelled to his coachman before climbing up inside.

"The coachman knows where he lives?"

"I swear that man knows where everyone lives."

She leaned against him in relief.

"I'm wet, Victoria."

"I am, too."

The caravan descended on Mr. Norton's, and Victoria watched worriedly from the carriage as David dragged the henchman up the short length of the front pavement. The other directors followed behind in a group. David pounded loudly on the door over and over again, until finally a light appeared inside.

A butler in a nightcap tried to appear dignified. "Please return in the morning."

"Tell Norton that Viscount Thurlow is here," David said. "We have business to discuss. He'd better hurry unless he wants me to make sure he has not a business left to run."

Norton finally appeared at the door in his shirt-sleeves and trousers. He was a balding man, with his stomach hanging over his waistband. He was obviously incapable of mounting a credible threat to a woman all by himself, so he'd had to hire someone.

Not that he would admit it, as he stood just inside his door, out of the rain.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Thurlow," Norton said, smiling. "You woke me up for this nonsense?"

"You weren't sleeping," David said, dragging the henchman into the light. "You were anxiously awaiting a report from this cretin. Well, here he is to make his report, but he doesn't have much to say for himself. I'll say it for him. He failed. Southern Railway will not fall apart at your hands. When we sign in the morning, we'll become the largest railway in the south."

Even from the carriage, Victoria could see Norton's teeth grind.

"As for you," David continued, "I'm prepared to forget this indiscretion."

Norton finally spoke. "But I won't. I'll make sure everyone knows that a peer is involved, Thurlow. You've been trying to keep it a secret, to protect the last shred of dignity the name Banstead might carry. But when I'm done— "

"Go ahead," David said.

Victoria gasped.

"I'm proud of what these men and I have accomplished," David continued. "We'll run a successful railway, which will give you more than your fair share of competition."

"I mean it!" Norton cried, then seemed to remember where he was as he looked around.

"You don't want your neighbors to hear the truth about you?" David said. He spoke louder. "I have no problem letting everyone know what I think of you. You don't want to go against a viscount, who's also a member of Parliament— especially one who has nothing to lose, where scandal is concerned, as you've pointed out. If I feel Miss Perry is in any danger from you, I'll make sure you lose every last investment you've ever made. Now where is a patrolling officer when you need one?" he asked, his voice carrying even louder.

Victoria stared at her husband as if he were a stranger. He'd just proclaimed that he didn't care about a new scandal, that he didn't care what people thought. Could it be true?