Everything and the Moon (The Lyndon Sisters #1)(39)

“I loved her!” the marquess roared. “I loved your mother in ways you will never know. And by God, I knew her dreams. She wanted her son to be strong and honest and noble.”

“Don't forget my responsibilities to the title,” Robert said acidly.

His father turned away. “She didn't care about that,” he said. “She just wanted you to be happy.”

Robert closed his eyes in agony, wondering how his life would have been different if his mother had been alive when he'd courted Victoria. “I see that you have made it a priority to see her dreams fulfilled.” He laughed bitterly. “Clearly, I am a happy man.”

“I never meant for you to be like this,” Castleford said, his face showing every one of his sixty-five years and a good ten more. He shook his head and sank down onto a chair. “I never wanted this. My God, what have I done?”

A very queer feeling began to spread in Robert's stomach. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“She came here, you know.”

“Who came here?

“Her. The vicar's daughter.”

Robert's fingers tightened around the arm of the sofa until his knuckles grew white. “Victoria?”

His father gave a curt nod.

A thousand questions raced through Robert's mind. Had the Hollingwoods turned her out? Was she ill? She must be ill, he decided. Something must be dreadfully wrong if she'd actually sought out his father. “When was she here?”

“Right after you left for London.”

“Right after I—What the devil are you talking about?”

“Seven years ago.”

Robert sprang to his feet. “Victoria was here seven years ago and you never told me?” He began to advance on his father. “You never said a word?”

“I didn't want to see you throw your life away.” Castleford let out a bitter laugh. “But you did that anyway.”

Robert clenched his fists at his sides, knowing that if he didn't he was liable to go for his father's throat. “What did she say?”

His father didn't answer quickly enough. “What did she say?” Robert bellowed.

“I don't remember precisely, but…” Castleford took a deep breath. “But she was quite put out that you had left for London. I think she really meant to keep her assignation with you.”

A muscle worked violently in Robert's throat, and he doubted he was capable of forming words.

“I don't think she was after your fortune,” the marquess said softly. “I still don't think a woman of her background could ever make a proper countess, but I will admit—” He cleared his throat. He was not a man who liked to show weakness. “I will admit that I might have been mistaken about her. She probably did love you.”

Robert was frighteningly still for a moment, and then he suddenly whirled around and slammed his fist against the wall. The marquess stepped back nervously, aware that his son very likely had wanted to plant that fist squarely in his face.

“Goddamn you!” Robert exploded. “How could you have done this to me?”

“At the time I thought it was best. I see now that I was wrong.”

Robert closed his eyes, his face agonized. “What did you say to her?”

The marquess turned away, unable to face his son.

“What did you say to her?”

“I told her you'd never intended to marry her.” Castleford swallowed uncomfortably. “I told her you were just dallying with her.”

“And she thought…Oh, God, she thought…” Robert sank down on his haunches. When she'd discovered he'd left for London, Victoria must have thought that he'd been lying to her all along, that he'd never loved her.

And then he'd insulted her by asking her to become his mistress. Shame washed over him, and he wondered if he would ever be able to look her in the eye again. He wondered if she would even allow him enough time in her presence to apologize.

“Robert,” his father said. “I'm sorry.”

Robert rose slowly, barely aware of his motions. “I will never forgive you for this,” he said, his voice flat.

“Robert!” the marquess yelled.

But his son had already left the room.





Robert didn't realize where he was going until the vicar's cottage came into view. Why had Victoria been in bed that night? Why hadn't she met him as she'd promised? He stood in front of the house for five long minutes, doing nothing but staring at the brass knocker on the front door. His thoughts were running in every direction, and his eyes were so unfocused that he didn't see the ruffle of the curtains in the drawing room window.

The door suddenly opened, and Eleanor Lyndon appeared. “My lord?” she said, obviously surprised to see him.

Robert blinked until he was able to focus on her. She looked much the same, except that her strawberry blond hair, which had always been such a cloud around her face, was now pulled back into a neat bun. “Ellie,” he said hoarsely.

“What are you doing here?”

“I-I don't know.”

“You don't look well. Would you—” She swallowed. “Would you like to come in?”

Robert nodded unsteadily and followed her into the drawing room.