She pushed herself up on her elbows as he donned his shirt. “What are you doing?”
“I needed to know that you still desire me…that the passion that rages through me every time I look at you consumes you as well.”
He turned from her, and walked past the broken door into the hallway. “Good night, sweetheart.”
Seconds later, he heard the crash of an object against the wall of her room accompanied by a loud curse.
Chapter 28
What was she supposed to say to Blake this morning?
Victoria stepped past what remained of her chamber door and avoided the splintered wood scattered on the plush carpet.
God only knows what the servants will think.
Across the hall, Blake’s door was open, and she prayed he had risen early and had left the town house for the day.
Thoughts of last night intruded her mind no matter how hard she tried to push them away. He had used her, simply to prove a point: that she could not resist his skillful seduction. He could have easily taken her, she had begged him to do so, yet he had not. She had seen, had felt, the evidence of his desire. His restraint had cost him, she was certain.
A war of emotions raged within her. She felt furious and miserable at the same time. She was sick with the struggle within her. She needed answers from him—clear, sensible answers. But Blake continued to be a complex man, more a mystery to her than ever before.
Victoria descended the grand staircase and approached the dining room with caution. The smell of fried bacon alerted her to someone’s presence. Masking her face into one of cool appraisal, she walked into the room.
Blake sat at the table, a full plate before him, reading the business section of The Morning Post. All she could see of him were his fingers, tapered and strong, as he held up the newspaper, immersed in an article.
“Good morning, my lord.”
The paper lowered, and Justin Woodward smiled in greeting. “Good morning, Miss Ashton.”
She looked at him with surprise, caught off guard. “Justin…I thought you were—”
“Ravenspear sends his apologies this morning, but he had business which could not wait.” Justin stood and politely waited for her to sit before he returned to his chair.
“Does Ravenspear’s business have anything to do with avoiding me?”
Justin stared at her in utter disbelief. “Why would you say that?”
“Come now, Mr. Woodward. After having spent months beneath Ravenspear’s roof at Rosewood, I know you share his every confidence. I also know you were at Lady Howard’s masque last night. Let’s be honest with each other.”
“Are you referring to Lady Walgrave’s behavior?”
“It’s not entirely Lady Walgrave’s behavior to which I refer.”
At that moment, a maid entered carrying a plate of steaming eggs, bacon and rolls. She placed the food before Victoria, then turned to leave as quietly as she had come.
Justin waited until they were alone once again. “Lady Walgrave means nothing to Ravenspear. He was protecting your reputation.”
“Why bother?”
“He cares for you more than any woman he has ever known. You must know that.”
“If that were true, then why can’t he forget…let the past lie…live for the future?”
“You don’t understand. He is not an ordinary man. His past includes great suffering that has carved his character.”
Biting her lip, she looked away. “I know about that.”
“Not all of it,” Justin said. “You know of his father’s suicide, his mother’s contraction of consumption from the poor conditions in the workhouse, but you do not know the truth about his sister, Judith.”
“Then tell me.” She spoke with quiet but desperate firmness.
“Blake was a boy when his family was sent to the workhouse. Judith was the eldest, and she felt she held the fate of her family in her hands. You see, she had an alternate means of earning money aside from laboring longer hours. Conditions were pitiful. The taskmaster—a man by the name of Herman Mutt—was brutal, and he forced inmates to work fifteen-hour days to earn six ounces of bread and two ounces of cheese for supper. The work itself was incredibly tedious. Women were expected to launder, cook and sew. The men were forced to saw logs and crush stone for use on the roads. Bones were also crushed by hand to make fertilizer. It was not unusual for hungry inmates to pick scraps of flesh off the bones to eat. The bones weren’t all animal bones, either.”
Victoria swallowed a lump in her throat. “I thought bone crushing had been banned.” Her hands, hidden from sight, began to shake, and she pressed them flat against her thighs to still them.
Justin merely shook his head at her incorrect assumption and continued with the story. “Herman Mutt had an eye for the pretty inmates and Judith was exceptional. After witnessing her mother cough up blood and Blake injured in a commonplace riot, Judith sold her body to Mutt. She believed Mutt when he promised special treatment for her younger brother and ill mother, but they received nothing more than an additional potato a day, without a decrease in labor hours.
“Once Judith chose that path, her life spiraled out of control. After Mutt had finished with her, she was forced into a life of prostitution and was sold out to the highest bidder. You see, the workhouse turned into Mutt’s brothel at night with his select group of girls laboring in the laundry during the day and laboring on their backs in the evening. Other than a few ‘working dresses,’ Judith received nothing, not even a shilling.
“When Blake discovered the truth, he turned into a raging bull and attacked Herman Mutt. Outnumbered by Mutt’s lackeys, Blake was restrained, beaten and put in solitary confinement for months. He had managed to hurt Mutt badly, though, and Blake made a terrible enemy. It was when Blake was in confinement for over two months that Mutt paid him a visit. By then Blake was immersed in his own bodily filth, his muscles lethargic, and his eyes straining against a mere sliver of light. Mutt had waited until conditions had physically weakened him. With cruel anticipation, Mutt told Blake his mother had succumbed to her disease, and his sister, now worthless as a whore, had contracted syphilis and had been transferred to the Wakefield Asylum to die. Only after Mutt had closed Blake’s cell door did Blake finally break.”
“I had no idea.” The blood siphoned from Victoria’s face, and she pushed away her plate, her stomach revolting at the smell of food after hearing such a tale. “How did he get out?”
“He later killed Mutt with his bare hands and escaped.”
She swallowed hard. “I see.”
“I told you the truth because you need to know Blake’s past to comprehend his actions now. He has survived over the years for one reason: justice. He had witnessed great evil from an early age, and swore to avenge his family when he had acquired the power to do so. He believes evil cannot go unpunished. He sees everything as black or white, right or wrong, there is no in between. He cannot let the man he holds responsible walk away, nor can he forget the past. He believes utmost in his cause and will always put it ahead of even his own desires or needs.”
She swallowed the despair in her throat. “Then there is no room in his life for me.”
“I have told you what he thinks, but that is not necessarily the truth. Ravenspear needs you more than life itself. You have the power to heal him, to change his course. You are his conscience.”
“Why are you with him?” Victoria asked. “You are a talented man. You can work for anyone.”
Justin smiled. “Ravenspear may be merciless with his enemies, but he is loyal unto death. He is fiercely protective towards the weak and vulnerable.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Ravenspear saved my life. In my family I was the younger son, born into wealth and luxury. But I had the misfortune of having an elder brother who gambled away the family fortune, then died of a weak heart. My brother left behind a mountain of debt without a means for me to repay it. The debt collectors had me arrested and del
ivered on the doorstep of the poorhouse—the same institution where Blake had labored.”
A long-buried image focused in Victoria’s memory. “Yes, I remember you now. The first time I was introduced to you as you boxed Ravenspear in Rosewood’s west wing, I had thought you looked familiar. Now I remember your family. I had wondered what had happened. How did you escape the workhouse?”
“Unbeknownst to me, Ravenspear had returned from the East Indies a rich man,” Justin said. “First on his list of business was to purchase the poorhouse and tear it down stone by stone. It was there that he found me, with a broken nose and two black eyes after refusing to do the current taskmaster’s books. He paid off my debts, then hired me. I’ve been with him ever since.”
“I now understand your loyalty to him,” she said.
“I owe him my life. That’s why I’m speaking frankly with you now. I believe you are what he needs, and that your love can heal him, can free him of his demons.”
“I’m the daughter of his sworn enemy. How can I free him?”
“He loves you. He just doesn’t realize it. Once he does, he will be able to forget the past and live for the future with you. You have to force him to acknowledge his feelings.”
She laughed. “Force Blake Mallorey? Could you have given me a more difficult task?”
Justin winked. “Trust me.”
For the first time, Victoria saw how Justin Woodward had charmed Lady Samantha.
Chapter 29
Hyde Park was a stunning expanse of tended lawns and old oak trees. But Victoria noticed little of nature’s beauty as her feet flew along the sun-washed bank of the Serpentine River.
She had come here to clear her head, to contemplate the disturbing information Justin Woodward had given her.
A few well-dressed ladies, strolling together with their parasols open, stopped to stare at Victoria, who dared to boldly walk without her own parasol, exposing her white skin to the evils of the sun. She paid them scant attention and continued with her brisk pace, her mind racing along with her feet.
Justin’s smooth voice drummed about in her head. Blake’s suffering had far surpassed what her father had told her and what she herself had imagined.
Judith. Poor Judith. Feeling responsible to ease her remaining family’s suffering, Judith had tried to help them, only to fall victim to a flesh peddler like Herman Mutt, a man without a conscience.
A heinous thought intruded the recesses of Victoria’s mind and corrupted the fabric of her being.
Did Blake seek to make her his whore as part of his retribution for Judith’s fate? Were his sweet words, his blood-stirring kisses a well-planned act?
The idea was like a blow to the stomach. She abruptly stopped walking, leaning heavily against an ancient oak by the riverbank.
Justin was convinced that Blake loved her but didn’t realize it. Victoria found such logic hard to believe.
How could Blake not know if he loved another?
No matter how hard she had fought against it or tried to deny it, in the end she couldn’t lie to herself: she loved Blake Mallorey with all her heart. And the thought of living without him in her life tore at her insides.
She looked up, blinking to clear the tears in her eyes. The park’s well-traveled track came into focus. The cobblestone path was littered with carriages and phaetons of high society, their occupants intent on being seen rather than on enjoying the park’s beauty.
Victoria’s nails scratched the hard bark of the old oak in agitation. She had once been part of that group. How shallow and empty her past life seemed to her now.
“It’s good to see you again, daughter.”
Victoria stiffened as the all-too-familiar voice sent tremors of alarm down her spine. She turned slowly, gathering her composure, and looked her father in the eye.
“Good afternoon. How did you find me?”
Charles Ashton wasn’t alone. Jacob Hobbs was by his side, a smile on his thin lips that did not reach his pale-blue eyes.
“I had you followed, of course,” Charles said.
“Of course,” she repeated dumbly as if it were the most natural thing for a father to do.
“You do not look well, Victoria. Has Ravenspear been mistreating you?” Charles asked.
“I am quite well,” she lied.
He stepped forward, and her eyes traveled his form. Even though Charles Ashton was well over sixty, he was an imposing, impressive figure with shrewd green eyes, a sharp nose and fleshy jowls. As usual, he was exceptionally dressed, with a tailored navy jacket and matching striped waistcoat and trousers. His cropped hair, mostly gray, matched his steel-gray brows. His bearing and costume bespoke the strict disciplinarian that she had grown to resent as a child.
Victoria sensed the importance of revealing nothing more about Blake’s finances to the men standing before her. They reminded her of a pair of vultures circling a corpse—except she wasn’t dead. And she was fully in charge of her faculties.
She mentally shook herself. This was her father, not an assassin sent to kill her. Yet he was also the man that forced her to live with Blake Mallorey in dishonor just to delay the debt collectors by a few months.
Victoria glanced at her father’s stern-faced expression. She was suddenly anxious to escape his overbearing presence.
“Forgive me for not reaching out to you sooner upon your return to London, Victoria,” Charles said. “I have been working hard to find a way out of Ravenspear’s trap.”
“Have you the money, then? To pay off Ravenspear’s loans?”
Charles frowned, his eyes level under drawn brows. “Not yet.”
“That’s why we have come to see you,” Jacob Hobbs said, speaking for the first time.
“I don’t understand,” Victoria said. “I’ve done what you have demanded. I’ve gone to live with Ravenspear despite my wishes. I’ve passed on his most sensitive secrets to you. There is nothing left for me to do.”
Jacob eyed her with a calculating expression. “We need more—”
Charles raised a hand. “We appreciate your sacrifice, Victoria. I know it must not be easy for you, living with that whoremonger, the threat of ruin hanging over your head. But we are close to having the money and to freeing you from his grasp.”
“What else do you need?” she asked.
“Ravenspear has numerous warehouses on the London docks, each containing different goods for export,” Charles said. “These goods are moneymakers for him. We have managed to learn what merchandise is in each warehouse, save one, Warehouse Thirteen. We need you to gain us entrance into this remaining warehouse so that we may find out what is stored there. We will then invest in the same commodity. The profit we earn should be enough to pay off Ravenspear’s entire loans, not just the interest.”
Victoria suspected they bribed longshoremen to learn what was in Blake’s other warehouses.
“Isn’t there another way?” she asked.
“We have tried, but our sources have failed,” Charles said. “We believe Ravenspear has secret items stored in this warehouse. Since he is often ahead of the market, we trust there is considerable profit to be made if we beat him to the punch.”
“What makes you think I can rummage through his belongings for something as small as a key and go unnoticed?” she asked incredulously.
“You must. I shudder to think what would happen with my position on the Treasury Commission should your disgrace become public knowledge.”
Her mouth gaped. Her father spoke only of his position, his embarrassment, and cared naught for the cost to her. Yet he expected her to risk her safety to aid him once again. The thought tasted like gall.
“I cannot help you,” she said. “If I could get my hands on the key, which I probably could not, I would be putting myself in great jeopardy.”
“Surely you have learned how to manipulate Ravenspear by now,” Jacob said. “There’s no sense pretending you have not shared his bed. Seduce the man and steal his key. Deception is what
women do best, is it not?”
Victoria stood stunned, unable to speak.
Charles, more tactful, placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. “I do not blame you for what you have had to endure to survive. Ravenspear forced you to do things you would not otherwise think to do.”
No, she thought. You did that, Father.
At her continued silence, Charles squeezed her shoulder and smiled.
She was not fooled by his display of false sympathy. Though he thought the same as Jacob, Charles hid his disgust behind a smooth, polished façade of an experienced politician.
“I’m…sorry,” she spoke in a broken whisper. “You will have to find another way.”
Charles dropped his hand from her shoulder. “We have thought of everything. There are no other options.”
When she hesitated further, Charles blinked, then nodded as if in understanding. “Ah, I see,” he said. “You have feelings for Ravenspear and have foolisly allowed yourself to fall in love.”
His expression grew hard and resentful, and Victoria was immediately reminded of the parent that had raised her. Her comfort level rose; she was now on familiar ground, dealing with the mean disciplinarian that loathed to be denied instead of the fake politician.
“Why should I help you again?” she asked coldly.
“Because,” Charles said, a satanic smile spreading across his thin lips, “things are simpler now. You fancy yourself in love with Ravenspear, but he has not expressed his feelings for you, has he? No, my dear, my guess is he has still sworn to destroy our family. His rage and vengeance consume him. In fact, they are the only emotions you are certain he has. Am I right, Victoria?”
His smug grin was intolerable, and she looked away swiftly, only to catch Jacob’s face, hardened with contempt.
Charles stepped forward to grasp her chin with firm fingers and forced her to look him in the eye. “You will help us because once the loans are paid and we are free from Ravenspear’s yoke, then you will be free as well. Only then will you learn how he truly feels about you.”
Lady of Scandal Page 24
