A Lady of Persuasion (The Wanton Dairymaid Trilogy #3)(88)

She made an inarticulate noise in her throat. Her eyes then slid toward the ceiling, as though some explanation for his behavior might be found in the scrolls of the brass chandelier. A silent

“why” formed on her pursed lips, but she seemed to lack the breath to dislodge it.

“Really, please sit down.” Toby moved toward her and laid a hand on her arm. She shook it off. “Thank you, no.” Still, she could not form the question. He sighed. He would not force her to ask. “It began last year, after Sophia disappeared and her parents spread the falsehood about her illness. It was winter, and people had little enough to talk about. The gossips would out the truth inevitably, I feared—unless I gave them something else to discuss. I came to London and tracked down Hollyhurst. Hiram and I devised this

‘Rake Reborn’ nonsense.”

Toby moved toward the bar. God, he needed a drink. “At first, I simply meant to deflect suspicion, absorb the brunt of the scandal,” he continued, pouring whiskey into a glass.

“Should Sophia miraculously return and still wish to marry me, her reputation would be intact. Later, when it became clear she wasn’t returning … then I suppose it became a matter of pride. I didn’t want anyone to know why she’d truly jilted me. Hell, even I didn’t know why she’d truly jilted me. Far preferable to let people suppose my dissolute behavior drove her to cry off.”

At last, Isabel found her voice. “But why continue it, even after we became engaged? After we married?”

Toby took a slow draught of whiskey, allowing her time to piece the reasons together. He knew she would. She was a clever girl.

When he lowered his glass, she was frowning down at her hands. See? Hadn’t taken her but seconds.

She said, “Mr. Hollyhurst mentioned a plan, to lose. Was he referring to the election?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve been trying to lose?”

Toby felt like telling her it was more that he’d been trying not to win—but that would be mincing words. Anyway, it scarcely mattered, given the morning’s events. “Yes.”

“But the campaigning, the hustings—you’ve been going to Surrey every day.”

Toby shook his head slowly.

“Dear Lord. You haven’t?”

A look of revulsion formed on her face, and it nearly killed him to view it. But he wouldn’t allow himself to turn away.

“If you haven’t been going to Surrey,” she asked, “where have you been spending your days?

Not… Oh, heavens. Not at the Hidden Pearl?”

“No,” he said firmly. “Never there, nor anywhere like it. I went… different places. The park, the club. Much of the time, I was simply here in my study. I half-expected—half-hoped, I think

—you’d one day discover me, and the ruse would be over. But you’re always so occupied with your charitable efforts, your society meetings …” He shrugged. “You never noticed I was here.”

“Of course I didn’t notice you! Why would I go searching the house for my husband, when he’s supposedly off in Surrey? I believed in you. I trusted you. I thought you wanted this, as much as I did. Even before our wedding, from the first night we met, you—”

“Come now, Isabel. Be honest. You know I never truly wanted to run for MP.”

“Yes, but I thought you wanted me!” She brought a hand to her throat, as if astounded by the volume of her own anger. “Even if politics wasn’t your inclination, you knew I sought a husband with influence in Parliament. And before we were married, you promised to run. You promised me, Toby.”

“I promised you many things, darling. The promises came to me easily then, when I had no real intention of keeping them.” Toby took a deep breath and put down his glass. There was no going back now. Half-confessions served no purpose. It was time to lay the truth out before her, and let her do with it what she would.

“When we first became engaged,” he continued in an even tone, “I would have told you anything you wanted to hear—tales, fancies, lies. I simply had to make you mine, by any means.”

“But why?”

“Pride,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “And some juvenile form of retribution. I wanted to take you from Gray the way he’d taken Sophia from me.”

“Sophia?” Her hand dropped from her throat to her stomach, and she looked as though she might be sick. “All this time, it was about her? You never wanted me.”

“No, that’s not true.” Toby rushed forward, catching her in his arms. She tried to pull away, but he held her firmly. “Isabel, I wanted you from the first, before I even learned your name. And once I knew you for the intelligent, principled, passionate woman you are, I fell in love with you, body and soul. By the time we married, I wanted nothing more than to keep you happy. But by then I’d made you so many absurd promises, and you had this naïve, idealized impression of my character. At first, I wanted to earn that good opinion. I wanted to deserve you. And I thought maybe, if I just tried hard enough—”

“At first.” She refused to look at him, staring instead at his lapel. “At first, you wanted to earn my good opinion. But not anymore.”

“Because I can’t.” Toby’s mouth went dry. “I just don’t have it in me. To be truthful, I’m not sure any man would. Your expectations are so high. I knew I’d inevitably disappoint you—if it wasn’t by losing this election, it would be by losing the next, or by failing to gain the level of influence you desired … Sooner or later, I knew you’d learn the truth. I’m not the man you’d wish me to be.”