Victoria looked at him steadily. “Robert, last night was not the first time I have been subjected to unwanted attentions from a gentleman.”

His entire body tensed. “Was that supposed to set my mind at ease?”

“I have never before been attacked with such force,” she continued. “I am merely trying to say that I have become quite adept at fending off advances.”

He gripped her shoulders. “If I hadn't intervened last night, he would have raped you. Possibly even killed you.”

She shuddered and looked away. “I can't imagine that anything like…like…that will ever come to pass again. And I can protect myself against the odd pinch and lewd word.”

“That is unacceptable!” he exploded. “How can you let yourself be demeaned that way?”

“No one can demean me but myself,” she said in a very low voice. “Don't forget that.”

He let his hands drop away from her shoulders and stood. “I know that, Torie. But you shouldn't have to remain in this intolerable situation.”

“Oh, really?” She let out a hollow laugh. “And how am I supposed to extricate myself from this situation, as you so delicately put it? I have to eat, my lord.”

“Torie, don't be sarcastic.”

“I'm not being sarcastic! I have never been more thoroughly serious in my life. If I do not work as a governess, I will starve. I don't have any other choice.”

“Yes, you do,” he whispered urgently, dropping to his knees before her. “You can come with me.”

She stared at him in shock. “With you?”

He nodded. “To London. We can leave today.”

Victoria swallowed nervously, trying to suppress the urge to throw herself into his arms. Something burst to life within her, and she suddenly remembered exactly how she'd felt so many years ago when he had first said he wanted to marry her. But heartbreak had made her wary, and she measured her words carefully before asking, “What exactly are you proposing, my lord?”

“I'll buy you a house. And hire a staff.”

Victoria felt every last hope for the future drain away. Robert wasn't proposing marriage. And he never would. Not if he made her his mistress first. Men didn't marry their mistresses.

“You'll never want for anything,” he added.

Except love, Victoria thought miserably. And respectability. “What would I have to do in return?” she asked, not because she had any intention of accepting his insulting offer. She just wanted to hear him say it.

But he looked dumbfounded, startled that she'd voiced the question. “You…Ah…”

“What, Robert?” she asked sharply.

“I just want to be with you,” he said, clasping her hands. His eyes slid away from hers, as if he realized just how lame his words were.

“But you won't marry me,” she said, her voice dull. How silly of her to have thought, even for a moment, that they could be happy again.

He stood. “Surely you didn't think…”

“Obviously not. How could I possibly think that you, the Earl of Macclesfield, would deign to marry a vicar's daughter?” Her voice grew shrill. “Goodness, I've probably been plotting to fleece you out of your fortune for seven years.”

Robert winced at her unexpected attack. Her words poked at something unpleasant in his heart—something that felt a bit like guilt. The image of Victoria as a greedy adventuress had never rung completely true, but what else was there for him to think? He'd seen her himself, lying in bed, sleeping soundly on the night they were supposed to elope. He felt the protective armor around his heart lock back into place and said, “Sarcasm doesn't become you, Victoria.”

“Fine.” She waved her arm at him. “Then our discussion is concluded.”

His hand shot out like a bullet and wrapped around her wrist. “Not quite.”

“Release me,” she said in a low voice.

Robert took a deep breath, trying to use the time to get over the incredibly strong urge to shake her. He couldn't believe the little nitwit would rather stay here at a job she detested than come with him to London. “I am going to say this one more time,” he said, his hard stare drumming into her. “I am not going to leave you here to be pawed at by every unscrupulous male who happens along.”

She laughed, which really infuriated him. “Are you saying,” She asked, “that the only unscrupulous male with whom I may consort is you?”

“Yes. No! For the love of God, woman, you can't stay here.”

She lifted her chin proudly. “I don't see any other option.”

Robert ground his teeth together. “I just got through telling you—”

“I said,” she stated pointedly, “that I don't see any other option. I will be no man's mistress.” She wrenched herself free of him and walked out of the maze.

And, he realized in a daze, out of his life.

Chapter 10

Robert returned to London and attempted to immerse himself in his regular routine. He was miserable, though, so miserable that he didn't even bother to try to convince himself that he didn't care about Victoria's rejection.

He couldn't eat, he couldn't sleep. He felt like a character in a very bad, melodramatic poem. He saw Victoria everywhere—in the clouds, in the crowds, even in his damned soup.

If he hadn't been so wretchedly pathetic, Robert later reflected, he probably wouldn't have bothered to answer his father's summons.

Every few months, the marquess sent Robert a letter requesting his presence at Castleford Manor. At first the notes were terse orders, but lately they'd taken on a more conciliatory, almost imploring tone. The marquess wanted Robert to take a greater interest in his lands; he wanted his son to show pride in the marquessate that would one day be his. Most of all he wanted him to marry and produce an heir to carry on the Kemble name.