“Everyone cares even if they deny that they do,” he answered, which further angered her.
“Material things are not what matters. I thought you of all people understood that, or had you only lied that family and honor were the most important.”
“You have never had to go without.”
With that, she smirked and chuckled. “Because you do not know my past, even though I know yours.”
“You were poor at one time?” he asked with humor.
Victoria grew serious because Benedick Valentine needed to know the truth that would no doubt shock him to his bones. “I was raised believing I was a bastard. And that is not even the worst of it.”
Benedick gaped at her. That was impossible. Her father had been the Earl of Norbright and there had never been rumors of infidelity by his wife or that he had fathered children outside of the marriage.
“Very few people know what I am about to tell you, but I know that you will keep my secret because it is just as important to you that your family’s privacy be maintained.”
“Yes, of course,” he offered, intrigued by what she might tell him. How could a person believe they were a bastard when born into a marriage, especially when her father was an earl? That would have been a secret neither parent would have wanted to reveal to anyone. Not even their own child, or so he assumed.
“My mother was French and Father had met her when he was visiting, fell in love, got her with child, married and returned to England.”
Such romances happened often and quickly. It had not taken Benedick anytime at all to fall in love with Victoria and had he been more reckless, he might have gotten her with child as well. Thank God that he hadn’t.
“I grew up believing that my oldest brother, Peter, was the only child my father sired. He and mother allowed us to believe that Gabe, now the Earl of Norbright, Olivia and I were the children of one of my mother’s many lovers.”
Her past was eerily familiar to his own, in that his younger siblings, born after his father had died, were also children of a lover.
“When I was twelve, Father discovered that Mother was acting as a spy in hopes that Napoleon would invade and destroy British rule.” Victoria looked away. “She seduced gentlemen in power with ties to the Foreign Office for information.”
She was correct, that was an even bigger scandal than her being born on the wrong side of the blanket.
“Mother and Father had a terrible fight and I had been told, by Peter, that Father had thrown her down the stairs. I found out much later that it had been an accident. I had then been led to believe that father went mad in his grief and took his own life, only to learn later that Peter had killed him.”
Good God! “Why would your brother kill your father?”
“Because Peter, like Mother, was sending information to the French of how to best infiltrate Society and bring spies onto the shores. Father found out and threatened to go to the Home Office. Peter could not allow him to live because he would ruin his plans.”
Her secrets may be darker and more disturbing than his. At least nobody in his extended family had killed anyone or committed treason. “I am so sorry, Victoria.”
“The day after my parents were buried, Peter told us, me, Olivia and Gabe, to pack a valise and be gone from the estate. We were bastards and had no right to live there and he was certainly not going to be as generous as his father had been. We were told that a man cuckolded should have more pride. If not for Gabe’s position, we would have been destitute.”
That was usually the case. Most gentlemen did not take well to their wife having affairs and especially producing children from such.
“Gabe had to take a leave from his position with the government and settled into a small cottage that he owned, but that proved to be impractical. He had to return to his position but feared leaving me and Olivia alone. We could not afford servants, not even a governess. That is when he sold the property and took us to the Wiggons’ School for Elegant Young Ladies boarding school. That is where we lived and were educated, and lived in constant fear that others would learn the truth.”
It was becoming clear why she had been insulted by his assumptions based on the fact that she was the daughter of an earl.
He did not care on what side of the blanket she had been born. In the eyes of Society, however, she was a lady.
“Olivia and I kept the secret of our birth and hoped that nobody ever learned and more importantly, prayed that Peter never told anyone. He was the heir and could have shamed us in Society if he had wished.”
This would also explain why she had never wed. Except, she had believed she was a bastard. Did that mean she was not?
Not that the circumstances of her birth mattered to Benedick. If it did, then he would be the biggest hypocrite in London since at one time five of his siblings carried that same designation. One of them was now dead and the truth had recently been revealed that the youngest had been found and kept and did not even share the same blood with them. Not that it mattered. His siblings, despite parentage, were his family and he would protect and defend each of them with his dying breath. Therefore, it mattered little on which side of the blanket Victoria had been born, which she should realize since she knew the truth of his family.
“Simply leaving things as they were was not enough for Peter though. He hated Gabe for his loyalty to king and country and his determination to keep French spies from the shores and therefore decided that he must kill him.”
“I am sorry.” At least Peter had not been successful because the last he heard, Lord Gabriel Westbrook, Earl of Norbright, was alive and well, which meant Peter must be dead.
“As am I,” she whispered. “Olivia and I were there when Peter shot Gabe, only to be shot himself.”
