She shook her head. “I understand the nobility has a great deal of power but to tell the authorities to send a man to prison for no reason—”
“He accused me of stealing a horse.”
She thought she might be ill. “How could he do that? How could he lie?”
“Perhaps he thought he was protecting you.”
“Me? No. If anything it was his reputation he was striving to keep unsullied. The shame he would have endured if it was learned his daughter ran off with a commoner.” She squeezed his hands. “I saw nothing in the newspaper about your arrest.”
“I think your father ensured it wasn’t mentioned in the paper at all. Or perhaps my siblings saw to that. It wouldn’t help any of their businesses if word got out that a Trewlove was a thief. At the time, I didn’t bloody well care.”
Because he’d thought it was what she’d wanted. It took everything within her not to wail at the injustice of it. Then the tears were burning her eyes again.
“No more tears, Vivi. It breaks my heart to see you weep.”
“But it hurts, Finn. It hurts to know he did this to you and I didn’t know. I thought you’d abandoned me, and it was I who abandoned you.”
“You didn’t know.”
“But I feel as though somehow I should have. I was angry at you, but my anger was misplaced. It should have been directed at my father and now he’s no longer here to endure my wrath.” She wished she could call her father out, make him tell her everything he’d arranged, but he’d passed away a few years ago. “Prison must have been absolutely horrid for you.”
“Better than what was originally planned for me: transportation.”
She knew criminals were sometimes transported away from England’s shores, to Australia. “How did you manage to avoid that punishment?”
“Aiden. He had a word with our father, convinced him to use his influence to see my sentence changed, reduced. I’m not exactly sure how he managed it, what he might have traded for the favor. He won’t talk about it, won’t tell me what price he paid, but I know it cost him dearly, simply because he won’t talk about it, doesn’t want me feeling beholden.” He traced a finger along a line on her palm as though he’d only just discovered it. “But I feel it just the same.”
And now she owed Aiden as well for what he’d done to spare his brother a worse fate, a fate that had come about because of her. “That night, my mother had come to my bedchamber, unexpectedly, shortly before midnight. She didn’t seem surprised to find me still dressed, but then she hardly paid enough attention to me to notice things like that, so I thought nothing of it. She wanted to talk about”—she dug her fingertips into her forehead, trying to force herself to think more clearly, to recall exactly what was said—“my giving a recital, so Thornley could hear me perform. I played along, pretended I thought it was a splendid idea, and deep inside I was shouting with glee because I’d never have to perform again. I would never have to take on a role I didn’t want.”
“Were you already betrothed to him when you agreed to marry me?”
She shook her head. “No. Our fathers had signed an agreement, but he had yet to ask for my hand. Neither of us was in any hurry. I think we knew we weren’t truly suited. Although earlier this year we did try to force it. We made it official and became betrothed in June. However, in the end, I couldn’t see it through.” She looked at him as earnestly as possible, not bothering to disguise her fury. “Mother must have been in on whatever Father was planning, must have come to my room to purposely delay my departure. How could they be so treacherous, so cruel? Then to keep it all from me.
“And then my maid, equally to blame. I’m convinced it was her. When I thought you hadn’t shown, she consoled me—ah, the cheek of her. She convinced me if I gave a gentleman the milk, he wasn’t likely to purchase the cow.”
“Ah, Vivi. If you believe nothing else, believe this. Having tasted the milk, I damned well wanted the cow.”
A burst of laughter escaped her, and she covered her mouth. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d laughed, but his eyes were twinkling with merriment as though he was remembering a happier, more joyful time.
Very slowly, as though he feared she might skitter away, he reached out and touched a finger to her lips. “I always loved your laughter.”
“I’ve kept it locked away for a good many years now.”
He stroked his thumb over her lower lip, and she nearly drew it into her mouth, remembering the saltiness of his skin and how much she’d enjoyed it, but now was not the time. They were both wounded, only now coming to realize the weapons used to inflict the damage were different than they’d thought. He placed his hand back in hers.
“Was prison terribly awful?”
“Lonely. They sent me to Pentonville. It’s supposed to be a model prison, but it’s just cruel. We lived in isolation. When we went for walks in the prison yard, we had to wear brown hoods and weren’t allowed to speak to each other. Men went mad, Vivi. For a while, I thought I would.”
“Oh my God.” She brought his hand up to her lips, pressed a kiss against his knuckles, wanted to weep once again for all he’d endured. “I’m so sorry, Finn. If I could do it over, I’d have not told a soul.”
“Then how would you have gotten dressed for our outing to Gillie’s pub?”
He was striving to make her feel better, but how could she when she now knew what he’d suffered?
“I spent a lot of time thinking about that night and how pretty you looked.”
She was relatively certain, based on the warmth penetrating her cheeks, that she was blushing. “I’d have thought you’d have preferred me in a ball gown.”
