Mama took Victoria by the hands and led her to the settee at the end of the bed.
“What is the matter, pet?” she asked, taking a seat beside her daughter and clasping the young lady’s hands in hers.
“There is someone,” she murmured.
“Am I to expect a visit from him soon?” asked Papa with a smile.
Victoria let out a sigh that released all the frustration of her circumstances in one long breath. “It is a tad more complicated than that, Papa.”
And so, she began to unravel her history with Mr. Elijah Dixon. Once begun, it took far longer than she’d thought to explain the whole of it, though she could not help but elaborate on all those little encounters they’d had over the past few years. Of course, she avoided speaking of the more intimate details—her parents did not need to know just how much she adored kissing the fellow—but she laid the rest bare as Papa paced before her and Mama’s hold tightened.
“I do not know what I should do—” But as Victoria attempted to explain her dilemma, her mother’s attention was still focused on the earlier confession.
“Mr. Flemming’s clerk?” Mama spoke the word as though it was akin to a beggar, though the majority of gentry’s sons entered their professions on such lowly terms.
“He is brilliant, Mama,” said Victoria. “And he is bound for a very successful future in politics. With Mr. Flemming’s assistance and guidance, there is reason to believe Mr. Dixon will achieve greatness in his profession.”
Mama’s expression tightened. “But who is his family? What makes him worthy of claiming the hand of a viscount and a baron’s granddaughter?”
Victoria did not wish to address that subject, as it was unlikely to appease Mama’s objection, and so she focused on the gentleman himself.
“Mr. Dixon is everything a lady could wish for in a husband, Mama. He is ambitious but not cruel, opinionated yet not overbearing. He is intelligent and caring and a far better man than I’d ever hoped to find.”
“Then you truly love him?” asked Papa, pausing in his steps. Victoria could not see his expression, as his back was to them, but his hands were clasped behind him, his fingers fidgeting.
“I love him.” Never had she spoken words with such conviction, for they were the very essence of truth, and Victoria felt them in her soul.
Her proclamation was met with silence as Papa continued to stare at the wallpaper; Mama’s hand shook in Victoria’s hold.
“You would marry a pauper?” asked Mama, as though that were the very worst of possibilities.
“I would marry a man whose integrity and convictions will lead him to great heights—no matter that his income is minimal at present.” With each word, Victoria’s convictions burned brighter, warming her heart through, and she felt the rightness of it all. But then, loving Elijah had never been the issue.
“If it were only my future at stake, I wouldn’t hesitate to bind myself to Mr. Dixon,” said Victoria. “But I know how much Miriam and the girls’ futures depend on my marrying well.”
Mama reached an arm around Victoria’s shoulders, holding her close. “And that is right, my dear. Actions have consequences, which more than ourselves may be forced to bear. Mr. Dixon may have a gentlemanly profession, but his status is so far beneath yours. With no money or connections, you would fall far in the world and drag your sisters down by association. We must think of others—”
“Not another word, Mrs. Caswell.” Papa still did not face them, but his words brooked no refusal. They were curt and held a tone of finality that had his wife staring at him.
“I will not stand by and watch my daughter destroy her future over some fleeting sentiment.” Mama’s tone rose as she came to her feet to glare at Papa’s back. “I married for love and what good has it done me? A lifetime of scraping by on a pittance while the money lenders wait at our door.”
Papa turned to face her, his expression like a block of ice. “Demanding payments for your fripperies, frivolities, and all the rest needed to maintain this lie you insist on living. You’ve spent a lifetime pursuing luxuries we cannot afford, and now, you’d have our daughter do the same?”
“We are descended from nobility—”
“What little good that has done us.”
Mama gaped. “You would disparage our great heritage?”
Papa threw his arms wide. “What has it done for us?”
The conversation ventured into uncomfortable but all too familiar territory, and Victoria recognized that her part in it was at an end. Voices raised, her parents threw barbs at each other, which were nothing more than the same frustrations that had built over their years of marriage. Like their finest china preserved for special occasions, Mama and Papa trotted out their complaints, which lay in storage until needed.
Rising from her seat, Victoria slipped around them and out the door, hoping she remained unnoticed. The door slid closed behind her, and Victoria sagged against it, her head resting against the wood.
That had not gone as hoped.
Pushing off from the door, she meandered through the corridor, her exhausted thoughts struggling to coalesce into the brilliance she needed to sort out this problem.
Then she heard her name. Turning, Victoria found Papa striding down the hall at a hurried pace. Taking her by the arm, he led her along to the library, where they were far away from prying eyes and ears. Depositing her in an armchair, Papa remained on his feet, pacing before the fireplace for several long moments. When he did meet her gaze, his dark eyes looked far more exhausted than what would be caused by a long night of dancing.
“A father’s duty is to provide for his family.”
Victoria’s brows drew together at his declaration, but she remained silent as Papa shook his head, dropping it as he clasped his hands behind him.
“A duty I have neglected and ignored.”
“Papa—”
He held up a staying hand. “I don’t deserve your comfort, Victoria. It is a fact that I’ve allowed our family to slide into decline. I squandered my youth and opportunities because your mother’s dowry was sizable enough to provide for us—and it would have if we’d been wiser. When the truth of our finances became apparent, the time was far spent for me to seek out a proper income or economize as we ought to have done. And now, rather than providing for my children, they feel the need to do it for me, and I am ashamed. As I ought to be.”
Stepping forward, Papa took a seat on the ottoman before her, his elbows resting on his knees.
“What apologies can be given in such a situation?” he asked, though his tone said the question did not need an answer. “What words can a father offer his child when he’d been derelict in the duty she is willing to bear?”
“There is no need, Papa.”
The older gentleman huffed. “There most certainly is, my dear. And I offer you my sincerest and deepest apologies for having placed you in this situation. And for not seeing it sooner.”
Victoria’s gaze fell to her hands clenched in her lap. “You speak of your duty, but do I not have a duty to my sisters?”
He gave that a considering nod. “Yes. And no. That is a complicated question.”
Throwing her arms wide, Victoria fell back into the chair. “Precisely! What am I to do? Either decision will cause pain and heartache. I need your guidance.”
Papa’s eyes narrowed. “You are asking me to decide the matter for you, and that is not like you, Victoria.”
Her cheeks flamed, and Victoria’s hands clenched the arms of her chair. “It is normal for parents to decide such things for their children.”
But that was met with a snort. “You’ve always been a willful, head-strong child, and I doubt either your mother’s or my opinion has ever swayed you no matter how we’ve tried.”
“It will now.”
Papa dropped his head, pinching his nose as he let out a low, halting chuckle. “I cannot tell you how many times your mother and I longed for such obedience when you were little.” Rai
sing his head once more, he met her gaze with a sad smile. “But I cannot give you what you wish.”
Exhaustion wafted through Victoria, weighing her down until she felt liable to sink through the chair. Reaching forward, Papa took her hand, brushing a gentle thumb across the back of it.
“I fear I’ve forfeited any right to decide for you,” he murmured. “My years as your papa have shown that my judgment is greatly flawed, and I will not lead you down the wrong path. This is a decision you will have to live with for the rest of your life, and it is for you to make.”
Papa cleared his throat and took in a deep breath. “I would caution you to choose wisely. Don’t be fooled by the glittering opulence of courtship. That flighty attraction fades quickly with marriage and is easily replaced by resentment. Without a true basis of love and friendship, marriage becomes drudgery. Do not decide your future in haste—whatever it may be.”
Victoria’s heart ceased beating, spreading its emptiness through her. “Then you feel I should reject Mr. Dixon?”
His brows dropped, and he watched her through hooded eyes. “I meant what I said, young lady. I will not make this decision for you. I was merely advising you to consider your choices carefully. I married a young lady of wealth and good breeding, whom I believed to be my one true love, but a handful of dances and parlor visits is hardly enough to know someone. I quickly discovered she and I had conflicting desires for our future. We’ve made do, but it hasn’t been the blissful life I’d anticipated. But perhaps happiness in marriage is all chance.”
Papa shrugged and moved on from that musing. “If you wish it, I will do what I can to secure you a husband. Your mother and I know gentlemen searching for a bride such as you. They may not be dashing young men, but they will be good husbands. But know that if you marry Mr. Dixon, I will support that decision as well.”
“But Mama may never forgive me,” mumbled Victoria.
With a great roll of his eyes, Papa chuffed. “Your mama likes to believe herself the victim of her circumstances rather than the author of them. In you, she sees an easy solution, but it is not your responsibility to offer yourself up as a sacrifice for her folly.”
Leaning closer, Papa held Victoria’s gaze with an intensity she’d never associated with the man before. “The fact that you are so conflicted between your desires and those of your mama and sisters speaks highly of you, Victoria, but do not allow it to absorb the whole of you. Giving of yourself is noble and good, but there must be a balance between caring for others and yourself, or you will wake one day to find there is nothing left of you.”
“And how do I distinguish that balance? If I am able to sacrifice for someone else, is it not selfishness to refuse? At what point am I hurting myself in my selflessness?” Victoria’s question hung in the air between them, fading into silence as her father watched her with a gaze that was far too pitying for Victoria’s well-being.
“My dear daughter, you’ve asked one of the most profound questions anyone can ask themselves, and one that requires a lifetime of trial and error,” he said, rising to his feet. “If you discover the secret, you must share it with me.”
Leaning over, Papa pressed a kiss onto Victoria’s head and whispered, “I love you, my darling girl.”
And with that, he left her to the silence and her thoughts.
Chapter 40
The Nelsons’ barouche was a fine vehicle. Well-sprung and maintained to perfection, the carriage was all one could wish for when traveling on a sunny day, but with the open nature of the vehicle, the autumn wind slipped through Victoria’s jacket, giving her a chill. If she bothered to notice.
Eyes fixed on the landscape, Victoria counted each passing moment, wishing the coachman would push the horses faster. Surely, she would arrive in time. When the buildings grew denser, she leaned forward to see the edge of Chelmsford drawing close, and her hands twisted in her lap as they made their way through the streets to the train station.
This was foolishness. She ought to have waited. Another few hours shouldn’t have mattered, but having passed the last day in contemplation, Victoria could not stand another moment without having taken some action.
Duty and love. Responsibility to her family and to her heart. What balance could be found in such a situation? No matter how she thought on the subject, Victoria feared she was making the wrong decision, but deep in her heart, she knew the truth and couldn’t remain silent any longer.
The footman positioned on the rumble seat hardly had time to pull the brake before Victoria was out, hurrying through the railway entrance. Glancing this way and that, she forced herself to calm. Surely, he was here. And if not, then he would arrive on the next train in an hour. But what if he had already left for Bristow? Had they passed on the road from the train station? It would be fitting for her to be forced to wait another hour.
“I do hope you are looking for me.”
Victoria’s breath caught, a smile creeping across her face as a wave of peace washed over her. She closed her eyes for one brief moment, savoring the sound of his voice, before she turned to face him.
Elijah Dixon’s features were arresting. His light eyes stood out against his dark hair, and those delightful dimples appeared in his cheeks as he met her with an appraising smile. There was an impishness to his expression that begged her to laugh with him.
“I am, Mr. Dixon. I wish to speak with you concerning an important matter.”
His brows rose. “That does sound dire, Miss Caswell. Would you join me on a stroll as we discuss this all-important matter that has brought you here?”
Taking him by the arm, Victoria allowed him to lead them down the platform.
“Mr. Flemming said you were in London,” she said.
“He had some business for me to attend to, but surely that is not interesting or unusual enough to drag you all the way from Bristow.”
Victoria sucked in a breath, holding it for a moment before she forced it out. As they arrived in a secluded corner of the station, she pulled him to a stop and faced the gentleman.
“I’ve been desperate to speak with you concerning a certain matter…”
A spark of mirth lit his gaze, and Elijah raised a hand to brush aside a lock of hair that had tumbled free of her coiffure. His fingers ran across her cheek, and Victoria sucked in another breath, stumbling over her words.
“…And I have spent the last few days—weeks, really—considering what I ought…”
But her breath caught again as Elijah rested his hand against her arm, his fingers brushing the skin between her glove and jacket sleeve. The movements were subtle, and if not for the wicked gleam in his gaze, Victoria might’ve believed them accidental. She tried to lay hold of her words again, but her thoughts scattered with each touch, drawing her attention to his nearness.
“What is it you wish to tell me?” he said, leaning so close that his lips nearly grazed hers. “What had you rushing to my side?”
“I cannot think with you so near,” she whispered.
Elijah’s grin widened. “Perfect.”
Pulling her into him, Elijah captured her lips, sending a jolt down her spine as she lost herself in his embrace. How could she have ever doubted that this was where she was meant to be? Money or not, this man was far better than any other she knew. It was so much more than a blind desire or the headiness of first love; Victoria knew what sort of man he was, and only wished she might one day be worthy of having him as her husband.
Her Elijah.
But reality snapped back into her thoughts, reminding her of duties to be done.
Freeing her lips, Victoria remained wrapped in his arms, her cheeks flushed despite the autumn chill. “I must explain.”
Elijah smiled and pressed a few kisses along her jaw, murmuring, “What is there to explain? I think your actions today say enough.”
Victoria closed her eyes, savoring the feel of his lips before responsibility began demanding her attention.
“No, please,” she said
, freeing her arms enough to take his face in her hands and draw his gaze to hers. “I must explain and apologize. I need to.”
His lids lowered, though the grin did not leave his face. “Might I point out that kissing is far preferable to words, and if you truly wish to apologize, you wouldn’t keep me at arm’s length.”
“That is the second time you’ve accused me of doing so while I am wrapped in your embrace. I am beginning to doubt you know the meaning of that idiom, sir,” she said with a cheeky grin, though it faded as her prepared speech came to mind. “But please…I must explain myself.”
Turning his face, he pressed a kiss to her palm and then nodded for her to continue.
The words swirled around her mind, tangling together until she struggled to separate them, and though she was not one for tears, a twist of her heart had her chin trembling.
“I thought I knew what was best…” But that wasn’t right. Letting out a sigh, Victoria tried again.
“I owe you so many apologies…” And that was true enough, but not what she wished most to say. Stumbling over her thoughts, she struggled to piece them together, and all the while Elijah stood there, waiting as he always did. Patient and loving.
Victoria swallowed, forcing her throat to loosen. “I thought I had to marry for my family’s sake. I thought it was selfish of me to put my desires above theirs. That I had to do whatever was in my power to help them find happiness. But I realized even if I marry for their sake, I cannot secure that happiness. Life is too unpredictable to guarantee it.”
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, fighting through the tightness in her chest to get out the words that needed saying. When she met Elijah’s gaze again, her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
“But without you, I am guaranteed to be miserable. I cannot be happy without you in my life,” she whispered. “And so, to answer that question you’ve asked me so many times—yes.”
Elijah’s grin grew. “Yes?”
Victoria’s smile matched his, and she nodded. “Yes.” But her smile faltered as she added, “And I hope you can forgive me for having waited so—”
Hearts Entwined (Victorian Love Book 3) Page 28
