“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.
“My father isn't here,” she said. “He's at the church.”
Robert just stared at her.
“Are you certain you're not ill? You look rather queer.”
He let out a funny little breath, one that would have been a laugh if he hadn't been so dazed. Ellie had always been refreshingly forthright.
“My lord? Robert?”
He remained silent for a few moments more, and then he suddenly asked, “What happened?”
She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“What happened that night?” he repeated, his voice taking on a desperate urgency.
Comprehension dawned on Ellie's face and she looked away. “You don't know?”
“I thought I did, but now I…I don't know anything anymore.”
“He tied her up.”
Robert felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. “What?”
“My father,” Ellie said with a nervous swallow. “He woke up and found Victoria packing her bags. Then he tied her up. He said you would ruin her.”
“Oh, my God.” Robert couldn't breathe.
“It was awful. Papa was in such a rage. I've never seen him like that. I wanted to help her. I really did. I covered her up with her blankets so she wouldn't catch a chill.”
Robert thought of her lying in bed. He'd been so furious with her, and all the time she'd been bound hand and foot. He suddenly felt intensely ill.
Ellie continued her story. “But he tied me up, too. I think he knew that I would have freed her so she could go to you. As it was, she sneaked out of the house and ran to Castleford Manor just as soon as she was free. When she returned, her skin was all scratched from running through the woods.”
Robert looked away, his mouth moving but unable to form words.
“She never forgave him, you know,” Ellie said. Her shoulders lifted into a sad shrug. “I have made my peace with my father. I don't think what he did was right, but we have reached an understanding of sorts. But Victoria…”
“Tell me, Ellie,” Robert urged.
“She never returned home. We haven't seen her in seven years.”
He turned to her, his blue eyes intense. “I didn't know, Ellie. I swear it.”
“We were very surprised when we learned you'd left the district,” she said flatly. “I thought Victoria might perish of a broken heart.”
“I didn't know,” he repeated.
“She thought you'd been planning to ravish her, and that when you didn't succeed you grew bored and left.” Ellie's gaze dropped to the floor. “We didn't know what else to think. It was what my father had predicted all along.”
“No,” Robert whispered. “No. I loved her.”
“Why did you leave, then?”
“My father had threatened to cut me off. When she didn't meet me that night, I assumed she'd decided I wasn't worth it anymore.” He felt ashamed just saying the words. As if Victoria would have ever cared about such a thing. He stood suddenly, feeling so off balance that he had to hold on to the end of a table for a moment to steady himself.