Scandal of the Season (23 page)

Sophie frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Victoria explained about the two children leaving her as they waited for Maggie to bring them tea. “So what brings you out on such a cold night?”

“I could tell when we were at Jennette’s home that you were not looking well. What happened?”

“Is there any sense in lying to you?”

“Not really.”

“I went away with Lord Somerton,” Victoria started. “It’s not as you think. He asked me to pretend to be his mistress to help him with a job he had to perform.”

“But it became more than that, did it not?” Sophie pried.

“Yes.” Victoria sipped her tea. “I really am not comfortable talking about this to you.”

“Nonsense,” Sophie said, waving a hand in dismissal. “I have heard this all before from Avis and Jennette and Elizabeth.”

“True, but they weren’t talking about your brother, were they?”

For the first time in the seven years Victoria had known Sophie, she appeared speechless. She stared at the fire with her mouth agape. “He told you that?”

“No. I figured it out when he told me about his parents’ marriage.”

Sophie blinked and looked at her with the same intensity that Somerton always had. It was now so apparent to Victoria that they were siblings.

“He told you about his parents? About his mother?”

“Not everything about his mother, but enough. Why does that surprise you?” She was confused by Sophie’s questions. Her friends had always told her that their husbands were completely honest with them. Why would lovers be any different?

“He has never told anyone about his mother. I knew because of my abilities. He has never even told his sister about her.”

Victoria understood why. “He doesn’t want to hurt her. He thinks it best that she believe her mother died.”

“I just cannot believe this,” Sophie muttered.

“Why are you so shocked by this?” They had been lovers and lovers told each other secrets that others might not know.

“Because my brother confides in no one. Almost everything I have learned about him is because of my abilities. He tells no one anything.
Ever.
” Sophie shook her head.

Victoria shrugged. “It wasn’t easy to get the man to talk but eventually he did.”

“How did you two get along? The man has a quick temper.”

“I only saw that once,” she said, remembering the afternoon he almost took her in anger. “Mostly, he was a gentleman and treated me extremely well.”

“Somerton a gentleman, now that is an oxymoron.”

“I found him quite pleasant.” She sounded like she was speaking of the weather and not the man she had fallen in love with.

“Do you love him, Victoria?” Sophie asked in a soft tone.

“I do,” she answered as tears welled in her eyes. “But it does not matter. Nothing can come of it.”

“I must be off,” Sophie said with a secret smile. “I have some work to do for a client.”

“At this hour?”

“Yes. She is quite demanding.”

Sophie walked out of Victoria’s house and stopped at the bottom step. The fact that Somerton had confided in Victoria was incredible and wonderful. He was a hard man to love. And yet, Sophie had always known that Victoria was perfect for him. Victoria had been able to break through his icy heart, so Sophie was convinced they would have a great love for each other.

She was still a little shocked by the confidences Somerton had told Victoria. Sophie knew from what she’d heard about him that he never gave away personal information to a woman he’d only known for a few days. Sophie clutched the railing. They were exactly what the other needed.

Somehow, she had to find a way to get them together.

Anthony knocked on the door of Victoria’s home the next morning. He glanced over at his mother’s house and prayed she was not awake yet to see him entering Victoria’s home. The door squeaked open and Victoria stood in the entranceway wearing a serviceable, gray wool day gown.

She looked exactly like a woman whose sole purpose was to help orphans. And nothing like the seductress who had gone away with him.

“Do you not have a footman to answer the door for you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh yes, twenty of them and ten maids and of course, my butler.”

He couldn’t miss the sarcasm in her voice. “I apologize.”

“Come in before someone sees you standing on my doorstep,” she said, opening the door wider for him to enter.

He walked inside and removed his coat and hat. She took them and placed the items on a hook. The house held a warm feeling and the aroma of baked bread filled the air. Children’s voices sounded from upstairs.

“What are the children doing?” he asked, curious about what she did all day.

“The older ones are working on their studies while the younger ones play.”

She walked along the worn wood floor to a small study. “I have been quite busy today and haven’t retrieved the necklace yet.”

“I understand. I cannot imagine what it must take to get eight children dressed, fed, and doing school-work in the morning.”

“Only six children now.”

Hearing her voice catch, he said, “What happened while we were gone, Victoria?”

“An aunt of the two newest children came and collected them.” She looked away from him.

He came up from behind and dragged her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. “Is it not best that the children are with family?”

“Of course. But…”

“Shh,” he said, then turned her in his arms. A part of him wondered if she cried only for the loss of the children.

She looked up at him with watery blue eyes. “I am sorry. I don’t normally cry like this.”

“I suspect this has been a difficult two days.”

She nodded and stared at the button on his waistcoat. “I should get your necklace now. Would you like to wait here while I get it?”

“No, I will go with you.” Now that she was near again, the idea of her leaving even for a moment troubled him.

“It is in my bedchamber.”

“I will follow you.” The thought of going into her bedroom sent all sorts of lecherous thoughts into his head. But with a handful of children roaming the house he doubted anything he wanted to do would happen.

“You still don’t trust me, do you?” she asked.

“Yes, I do. But I am a wicked man who can’t resist the idea of entering a woman’s bedroom.”

She laughed softly. “You are definitely a wicked man.”

He followed her up the stairs, watching her slim hips sway and his thoughts turned erotic. The sound of children’s laughter floating down from the second floor cooled him off.

“This way,” she said. “My bedroom is on the first floor.”

The small room was neat but bare. One small bed, a clothes press and nightstand were the only furniture.

She opened the clothes press and reached for a box on the bottom. Bringing it to the bed, she opened the box and gasped.

“Oh, my God!”

“What is the matter?” He looked in the box and noticed a few children’s drawings and other small things.

“It’s not here!”

Suspicion crawled up his back. “Oh?”

She looked up at him wide eyed. “I left the necklace in the box. With the crest on the pendant, I could not pawn it. I swear, Somerton. It was in the box.”

“You told me you wouldn’t be foolish enough to store the pendant at your house,” he reminded her. His anger rose higher with every second.

“Of course, I said that.” She looked at him frantically. “I didn’t want you ravaging my home in front of the children.”

Seeing the look on her face, he believed her. “Very well. Who had access to your room while you were gone?”

She shrugged. “I don’t lock my room so any of the children or Maggie or that woman you hired, Mrs. Trumble.”

“Did anyone know you had the necklace?”

“Only Maggie.” She rustled through the box again. “Maggie would not have taken it. She has worked with me for the past eight years.”

The door flung open and a young girl came running in. “Miss Torie, I forgot to show you…” Her high-pitched voice trailed off as she noticed him. “Who are you?”

Anthony looked at the girl and grabbed the bedpost. His mind raced and his fingers wrapped around the small locket he always kept with him. It wasn’t possible. She couldn’t be. Victoria would have told him.

“Bronwyn, that is a very rude question. This is Lord Somerton who came for,” Victoria laughed softly then went to the girl and the pendant around her neck, “this.”

“But I found it in the box of things with my name on it so I thought it was for me.”

“No,” Anthony whispered. Not only did she look just like Genna, she sounded like his sister at that age, too.

“I am sorry, Bronwyn.” Victoria removed the necklace from the girl. “I was keeping it for Lord Somerton while he was away. It is far too valuable for a young girl.”

While Victoria spoke Anthony’s mind raced with questions. “How old is she?” he finally managed.

“Nine.”

His grip tightened on the bedpost as his world spun around him. Except for with Victoria, he’d always been a careful man with regards to bastard children. But ten years ago, like this past week, the thought hadn’t even occurred to him.

“Miss Torie,” Bronwyn said and then started to tremble. “He’s the man.”

“What man?”

“The one from my dreams. The one who tries to take me away.”

Victoria patted the girl on the head. “He is not the man. Bronwyn, I think you should leave Lord Somerton and I alone.”

“Yes, Miss Torie.”

Anthony stared at her as she raced out of the room and closed the door. He couldn’t take his gaze off the door as his anger grew. Finally, he turned toward Victoria. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Victoria frowned. “Tell you what? I had no idea Bronwyn had the pendant.”

Fury rose over him. “I am not talking about the goddamned necklace. How could you have kept her secret from me? Especially after the past two weeks?”

She stared at him with confusion and pain. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

He pulled the locket from his pocket and opened it. The miniature of his sister had been painted at the age of ten. He handed it to her.

“How did you get a miniature of her?” Her hands shook as she looked down at it. “How?”

“That is my sister Genevra, or Genna as everyone calls her. Painted when she was ten.”

“You’re wrong. It’s Bronwyn. It looks exactly like her!”

“Why didn’t you tell me I had a daughter, Victoria?” He grabbed her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “I had a right to know about her!”

Comprehension finally dawned on her face. “Oh, my God, you think she is
our
daughter.”

“Of course I do. Who else’s would she be?” he shouted.

Victoria sank to the bed. Bronwyn was certainly not
her
daughter, then…“Oh God,” she cried.
“You and she!”

It all made sense now. Lady Whitely told her to stay away from Somerton. That he didn’t respect women and would only hurt her. Lady Whitely never wanted Somerton to find out about their daughter.

He had lied to Victoria, telling her that she was the first woman he’d been with. Lady Whitely gave birth seven months after that night. And Bronwyn had been a very healthy baby, not premature.

He lied to her.

Again.

“Get out,” she whispered. “I never want to see you again. Get out of my house!”

He grabbed the necklace and stormed to the door. “I will be back tomorrow for my daughter.”

Victoria’s heart turned cold. She had already lost two children this week. She would not lose another. “You will not take her from me.”

“Even if I have to bring this to the regent himself. Do you honestly think he will let a child of mine languish in a home for orphans?”

“Don’t you ever step foot in my house again!” she yelled and then threw a pillow at him. She clutched her stomach as he slammed the door behind him.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she collapsed on the bed. She couldn’t lose Bronwyn. She hated to admit that she had favorites, but Bronwyn had been her first baby. When she agreed to take in some of the other ladies’ ‘accidents,’ she loved them too. But Bronwyn always had a special place in her heart.

She could not lose her.

Losing Bronwyn also meant losing everything: the house, the other children, her life. Without Lady Whitely’s support, Victoria knew she could not keep this house. The children would have to be sent to other homes. Maggie would have to find another position.

And Victoria would have absolutely nothing. She would be out on the streets. She might even be forced into working at a brothel. Only this time, she doubted she would be cleaning the rooms.

With steeled determination, Victoria sat up and wiped her tears. She refused to become a prostitute. There had to be a way to fix this problem.

The first thing to do was speak with Lady Whitely. Perhaps she could convince Somerton not to take the child. But seeing his reaction today, she doubted even Lady Whitely could change his mind.

Still, she had to try, even if it meant admitting to Lady Whitely that she had slept with Somerton.

Anthony stormed out of Victoria’s home. He’d never felt so betrayed in his life. With fat snowflakes falling from the sky, he looked around and realized there was only one person he could talk to, the one person who had warned him against her in the first place. He should have listened to his mother for once.

He opened the door to the brothel and stepped into a world that didn’t sleep. At eleven in the morning, there were already two men sitting in the parlor leering at the women. Without a word, he trudged up the steps to his mother’s room.

Knocking softly, he waited for permission to enter. During the evening hours, he could safely walk into her room unless stopped by one of the girls. But not during the morning when a client might still be inside.

“Come in,” she said in a testy tone.

He walked in to find her already dressed for the day. “Sounds as if you are having a wonderful day, too.”

She rolled her eyes. “That blasted girl Maryanne has agreed to become Sourwood’s mistress.”

“Is that all?” He walked to the window and stared down at the street. “I just discovered I have a daughter.”

His mother had the nerve to laugh. “Only one?”

He turned his head and leveled her with an icy glare. “You know I have always been careful. You taught me that.”

“True, but there were a few years that we didn’t speak to each other. Can I assume you might have been less cautious then?”

“Only once.” And the past week. For all he knew Victoria could be carrying his child right now. He picked up a glass from the table and hurled it at the fireplace. “Dammit!”

“Ah yes, that first time with the girl on the street. Surely, that can’t be the one. You didn’t even know her name.”

He remained stony silent.

“
She
told you, didn’t she?”

“Yes, Sophie knew the girl’s name.” He returned his gaze to the window and watched a black coach pull up in front of Victoria’s home.

“And as a matter of fact, you know of her, too.”

She made a face at him. “I do? The only women I know who have children out of marriage are the girls here.” She wandered the room with a frown. “I hadn’t thought that maybe one of them had been with you before.”

“It wasn’t one of your girls.” He banged his fist against the window frame. “It was Miss Seaton.”

“Victoria?” she whispered. “But that’s not possible.”

He spun around with his hands on his hips. “Indeed? Then why does the oldest girl in her home look exactly like Genna? And I mean exactly like her at that age!”

“Oh, God,” she whispered. His mother’s face turned ashen.

“What is wrong?”

“I never wanted to tell anyone this. I cannot believe I have to tell you.” She clenched the back of a chair for support.

“Tell me what? Did you already know Bronwyn was my child?”

His mother closed her eyes and for the first time in the years he had known her, a tear fell down her cheek. “Bronwyn is not your daughter, Anthony.”

“Is that what she told you?” he demanded.

“Victoria had no need to tell me about Bronwyn.” She inhaled a short breath. “Bronwyn is your sister.”

“Goddammit! Why didn’t you tell me I had another half sister before now? You know it wouldn’t have mattered to me!”

“I know, Anthony. It wasn’t you I was protecting her from.” She came around the blue chair and sat down. “Sit down.”

“I really do not wish to sit right now.”

“If you wish to hear my story, then sit.”

He blew out a breath of frustration and sat across from her. “All right. It’s not that difficult to figure out how I arrived with another sister, but I would like to know how Victoria came to care for her.”

“Very well, we shall start with that. About twelve years ago, I was shopping for a new bonnet. On the way into the milliners, a slip of a girl bumped into me. I quickly realized she had picked my reticule.”

Victoria had never told him how she ended up at the brothel, but now it made perfect sense. “You were the woman who let her clean rooms.”

She tilted her head and looked at him. “And how did you come to learn that?”

Heat crossed his cheeks. “I think you can hazard a guess.”

“Dammit, Anthony. I told you to leave her alone.” His mother sighed. “As I was saying, she came here to clean rooms. I told her that if she wanted to work upstairs, she could. Then two years later, I discovered I was with child. I couldn’t lose this child as I had you and Genna. One night, Victoria came home dreadfully upset because she’d given her innocence to someone.”

She cast him a cold stare. “I decided that night that I would buy a home and set Victoria up to care for my child. That way if she’d gotten with child, she would have a place to raise her child, too. We decided on a new identity for her. I taught her to read and write and comport herself amongst higher quality people. I wanted my daughter raised properly.”