ord Wade could always make Victoria laugh. He was the only person she'd known at the party, but he'd made her feel at ease, introducing her to several women who had shown her curiosity, but no disdain.

Lord Wade's smile turned rather thoughtful.

"Well, look who's here," he murmured with satisfaction. "It's about time."

Victoria followed his gaze, and to her shock, David was walking toward them, rain speckling his face and evening coat. He was easily the tallest, most powerful-looking man there. And he was…hers. She felt foolishly satisfied by that. Did that mean she was falling in love with him?

For a moment, she thought he was angry. How had he discovered her plan?

And then that display of his emotion was just…gone, wiped off his face as if it had never been there. He nodded to Lord Wade, took her gloved hand and brushed a kiss on the back of it. Lord Wade was showing the open curiosity she was feeling, but David didn't respond to it.

"Lady Thurlow, forgive me for being late," he said smoothly.

"Nice to finally see you here, my good fellow." Lord Wade betrayed a wicked gleam in his eye.

"Thank you for amusing my wife."

David spoke blandly, but Victoria noticed that Lord Wade's eyebrows shot up, and his grin became wider.

"Any time," Lord Wade said.

Then finally David met her questioning gaze, but he said nothing. She knew he would never say anything in public, but she didn't know what to expect when they returned home. And she welcomed their coming discussion. He had to see the logic of her position. Somehow she would explain it to him.

Two by two, people began to press forward to speak to them. David remembered to introduce her each time.

Soon a man pulled David away, and Victoria was left with one of the wives, Lady Walcot. The woman rattled on about the lovely evening, and the beautiful painting on the wall above them. Victoria nodded at the appropriate points, but her gaze followed David as she admired the easy way he spoke with people. She was so proud of him— proud to be with him. Was this love?

The switch in topic came so suddenly that Victoria almost missed it. Lady Walcot was forced to repeat herself.

"Lady Thurlow, is Banstead House still as grand as it used to be?"

"It is a wonderful home, my lady, but I never visited it before my marriage, so I cannot truthfully answer."

"I, of course, never attended one of those…parties," she hastened to say.

She emphasized "parties" as if they were a forbidden pleasure.

"My young cousin Humphrey attended. Such stories he brought home— " She leaned forward, blinking eagerly through her eyepiece. "The women— so scantily clad!"

More scantily clad than tonight's ladies— like Victoria herself— with necklines that displayed so much? Perhaps Lord Banstead's guests had not been proper women? Her eyes sought out her husband again. She could only imagine how he felt having such things occur in his own house.

He was speaking to a tall young woman, with very dark hair and very pale skin, who was staring up at him intently with a look that Victoria found…confusing.

Lady Walcot was still talking, but Victoria only caught the end.

"And the piano! Surely it was burned afterward."

"The piano in the drawing room?" Victoria said, remembering Miss Fogge's similar conversation. "I cannot be certain, but surely it is old enough to be the original. Burned, you say?"

To Victoria's regret, Lady Walcot reddened and excused herself. As Victoria turned to watch the older woman leave, she realized why— another woman was approaching.

The woman David had just been speaking to.

Victoria smiled up at her, suddenly feeling very short and very plump. But very intrigued.

"Good evening, Lady Thurlow," the woman said. "I know I should have waited to be introduced, but David— Lord Thurlow— would surely want us to meet. I am Lady Sarah Palmer."

"How pleasant to meet you," Victoria said, hoping that it would be.

They curtsied to each other.

"It's good to see that Lord Thurlow has finally married," Lady Sarah said in the sweetest voice. "I did worry about him after…well, you understand."

Victoria smiled. "I'm afraid I don't."

Lady Sarah tilted her well-coifed head, and feathers fluttered. "You did not know that my father adamantly refused when Lord Thurlow asked permission to wed me?"

"No, I did not," Victoria said, wondering how David felt that this woman even dared to speak to him again. Or were they both still heartbroken over her father's decision? There were so many ways that she could act on such news. "It must have been dreadful for you."

"It was far worse for Lord Thurlow," the woman said.

She oozed a compassion so sugary that it set Victoria's teeth on edge.

"For I was the second woman to have to refuse him."

Victoria must be falling in love, because her heart hurt for poor, proud David. What would make any family refuse a future earl, especially someone as wonderful as he was?

But Lady Sarah was no lady, to discuss such things with David's new wife. The woman was waiting patiently like a spider for Victoria's reaction.

"Lady Sarah, though it was such a dreadful thing to happen to you, do tell me you have found a husband at last."

The woman's smile grew faintly pinched. "I have. I'm engaged to the Marquess of Cheltenham."

"Then I hope you are as happy as I am with my dear husband. No man could be as sweet. Do thank your father for saving David for me."

"Did I hear that someone saved me?"

Victoria gave a start as David took her elbow. He looked between her and Lady Sarah with interest.

Lady Sarah only curtsied and moved away at a pace that tried for languor but only showed speed.

David looked down at Victoria, one brow raised in question.

Victoria smiled. "I told her to thank her father for saving you for me."

He only had time to betray surprise because dinner was loudly announced.

"I have to escort someone else to the table," he said in a low voice, bowing over her hand.

"That's all right, David. I understand how important rank is. I'll join you after dinner."

Victoria was relieved when David rode inside the carriage with her, leaving his horse to be tied up behind. She'd hoped they could speak about the evening, but instead the strained silence between them was dreadful. Throughout dinner, although they had sat almost a table length apart, she had an unimpeded view of him. And he had a much closer, unimpeded view of Lady Sarah.

No wonder he didn't like to attend these events, when he had to meet up with women who'd rejected him.

"David." She said his name softly, her voice stark in the dark carriage. Did she dare put her hand on his arm?

But it was as if he was just waiting for her to speak, for he stiffened and said in a low voice, "When I first arrived, I noticed that Wade was ogling your breasts."

Stunned, she stared at him. "This is what you want to talk about first?"

"Might as well begin at the beginning of the evening," he said.

"David, I am short. All men look down at me when we speak. Besides, Lord Wade is your friend after all. And I did not ask the dressmaker to lower this neckline!"

He roughly turned her toward him and parted her cloak, baring her upper bosom to his angry gaze.

"I let it go because I thought I could view you in private," he said.

She remained still, letting him look his fill. "Then did you expect to keep us both locked away, where no one would ever see me dressed for the evening?"

After a frozen moment, when his hot gaze remained on her chest and she wondered with a thrill of excitement what he meant to do with her, he looked up at her face.

"All right, I'm not making sense. You know I haven't kept you locked in the house. I've even purchased an opera box because I know how you like music."

"Oh, David," she whispered helplessly.

"But tonight I had to chase you down. I felt like a fool."

"You didn't look like a fool," she murmured, her face hot. "You looked like a man who'd…recovered. And if you want to be upset about such silly things, maybe I should be upset that I had to find out in such a public manner that you'd asked two other women to marry you."

"You can see now why I thought I'd spare you such evenings."

"You mean spare yourself from having to tell the truth." Victoria couldn't believe she was talking like this, after she'd begun the evening on a lie in the first place! "Were you worried I would meet people who would reveal Banstead secrets?"

"As you have already seen, there are no secrets among the ton. But I'll tell you another one. Lady Sarah was not only congratulating me on my marriage, but she was offering herself on the side."

Victoria frowned at him and pulled her cloak closed. "Offering…herself?"

"As my mistress, or however else she would want to amuse herself." He suddenly looked tired. "My, what a pleasant evening, wasn't it?"

"She would do such a thing in public?" Victoria asked, aghast.

David touched her hand where it rested on the bench, smoothing her fingers through the gloves. "You are such an innocent, Victoria."

"You didn't have much innocence growing up," she whispered, not wanting him to stop touching her, but afraid to lose this chance for honest conversation.

"No." He looked out the darkened window as if he could see something. "After my mother died, my father found a mistress rather quickly, and moved her right into the house."

She tried to withhold a gasp, but in the lamplight she saw David's bitter smile.

"An understandable reaction," he said. "You can see why a duke would not wish his daughter to marry me."

"But that was your father's doing!"

He looked at her intently, and she couldn't say anything over her heart's terrible pounding. She wanted to take him into her arms, to comfort him the way only a wife could.

"Of course it was my father's doing," he continued quietly. "We'd never had much of a relationship, and the mistress killed it completely. She would throw parties, invite the most unsavory of guests. My father indulged her, trusted her. Hell, he must have loved her, becauses he had the run of the house, even when he was away from London. He didn't know about the worst of these events, but I did. And theton knew, and never let me forget."

She wanted to shield him from what she'd heard, but she knew he wouldn't like it.

"Lady Walcot mentioned the parties, and the 'scantily clad women.' It's not the first time I've heard something like this."

He sighed. "It's been five years since his mistress died. You'd think such speculation would eventually end, but it never will. I'm sorry you had to be subjected to it. I wanted to protect you."

"I know." She touched his arm, and he didn't pull away.

"Now you know why Southern Railway has been so enjoyable for me. Those directors only care about my money, and the power I can wield. It's refreshing."

She sighed. "Can I ask one more thing?"

"Of course."

"Lady Walcot also asked if the piano had been burned."

He gave a bitter laugh. "Thoroughly cleaned, yes, but not burned."

"What happened, David? I'd rather be prepared when people speak of it."

"One of Colette's friends— Colette was my father's mistress— became so inebriated that she removed her clothes while dancing upon it. Then she sat and accompanied herself while she sang opera. She was quite talented," he added mildly.

Victoria could not imagine baring herself before dozens of people. She would surely die from the shame. When that woman had awakened the next day, had she been overcome with remorse? Or hadn't she cared?

He sighed. "You're scandalized, as I knew you would be."

"No," she said firmly, knowing her own secrets were much worse. "I'm trying to imagine how that woman felt the next day."

A sad smile tilted one corner of his mouth. "Always worried about everyone, aren't you? Then worry about my character, because I hid behind the ferns and watched her whole performance."

"How old were you?" she whispered.

"Sixteen."

"Oh, David, you were still but a child, traumatized by your mother's death— "

"I wasn't a child, Victoria. Not by then."

He removed his hand from under hers and went back to staring out into the blackness. An occasional gas lamp illuminated shadows beyond his profile. With aching eyes she refused to let find relief in tears, Victoria could only watch him and worry.

For the first time, he didn't come to her bedroom that night. Only then did she cry.