LITMIR.BIZ

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defiance made Alistair smile. ‘Your aunt is, I believe, something of an original.’

      ‘I have always admired her flair for the dramatic and her gift for plain speaking.’

      ‘Qualities shared by her niece, I am discovering.’

      He didn’t turn his head, but he felt the weight of her gaze on him. ‘How is it, Mr Devlin,’ she said, ‘that on such short acquaintance, you feel you know me well enough to offer such opinions?’

      ‘There are certain women whose manners make them easy to identify, Miss Bretton. You and I have not spent a great deal of time in conversation, but what time we have has allowed me to form an opinion of your character. You spoke plainly at the Holcombes’ musicale and, by doing so, revealed much of yourself.’

      ‘Then I must remember to guard my tongue when I am around you.’

      ‘I’m glad to hear you say that.’ Finally, Alistair did turn to look at her. ‘At least you have given me hope that I am likely to see you again.’

      He watched colour run hot and quick over her face, but he also saw a flicker of pain darken the brilliance of her gaze. ‘I told you the night we met that you would do well to avoid me, Mr Devlin,’ she said, ‘and nothing that’s happened since has induced me to change my mind. You were given proof of that at the Holcombes’ musicale, just as you were by your sister and brother-in-law’s reception of me at the King’s Theatre.’

      ‘Fortunately, I care little for my brother-in-law’s opinions and I am used to the pettiness of society,’ Alistair said. ‘Assumptions about other people’s characters are all too often made without the information necessary for such opinions. People see a beggar in the street and believing him to be without, see no reason to ask him what manner of man he is. He might be able to quote Plato and Aristotle, but he is assumed to be ignorant because of his appearance. The Archdeacon suffers from the same misconceptions. For all his being a man of the cloth, he is quick to dismiss based on what his eyes tell him. Your uncle owns a theatre and both he and your aunt have spent time upon the stage, but that doesn’t make you an actress or entitle people to treat you like one.’

      ‘No, but I am despaired of for reasons other than just my family connections, Mr Devlin.’ Victoria’s smile appeared briefly, but he saw what looked like resignation in her eyes. ‘I speak too plainly for most people’s liking and while I do some of the things I am expected to, for the most part, I derive little pleasure from them. I suspect many of the ladies with whom I socialise would be horrified to know that their behaviour only gives me more fodder for—’ She broke off abruptly, her blush deepening. ‘That is … they would not like to think I was being cynical of what they said, or of how they said it. Their goal is to be married and they see nothing more important than that.’

      ‘And you do.’

      ‘My goal is to lead a happy and fulfilled life.’

      ‘You do not think marriage would give you that?’

      ‘I believe marriage to the right man might make me happy,’ Victoria said carefully, ‘but there are things that would give me greater pleasure and I fear they are not the type of things any man would willingly smile upon.’

      ‘Like what?’

      ‘Independence. The freedom to pursue the activities I wish, as I wish to pursue them.’

      ‘You intrigue me, Miss Bretton,’ Alistair said quietly. ‘You have from the moment we met.’

      ‘Only because I am not like the ladies with whom you normally associate. It is human nature to be curious about that with which we are not familiar.’ Her smile appeared, but there was a pensive shimmer in her eyes. ‘But I think we have spoken quite enough about me for one day, Mr Devlin. I should like to know something of you and how a gentleman like you passes his time.’

      Alistair shrugged, reluctant to talk about himself when he was so much more interested in her. ‘I am heir to my father’s title and am, therefore, involved in the business of the estate.’

      ‘Does your father not employ his own man of business?’

      ‘He did, but they parted company last year. When my father discovered my skills in that area, he encouraged me to make use of them and to develop them further.’

      ‘Still, you cannot spend all of your time poring over account books and journals,’ Victoria said. ‘You must have time to enjoy the kind of activities so often indulged in by young men of your class.’

      ‘My class,’ he repeated in amusement. ‘What does that mean exactly? That I while away my hours in idleness and debauchery?’

      Alistair made the remark in a light-hearted manner. He was surprised when she did not respond in kind. ‘I cannot speak to the latter, Mr Devlin, but my knowledge of the type of men with whom you associate would lead me to believe the former.’

      ‘The type of men with whom I associate?’

      ‘Mr Bentley-Hyde and Lord Shufton. Your good friend, Lord Collins.’

      ‘You do not like Lord Collins?’

      ‘I neither like nor dislike him,’ Victoria said, though the tone in which she said it led Alistair to believe she was not being entirely truthful with him. ‘From what I understand, he is not engaged in any worthwhile activity and wastes much of his time in hells and brothels.’

      ‘And in the company of women like Signy Chermonde,’ Alistair said, wondering if Collins’s association with the actress had anything to do with Victoria’s sudden reserve.

      ‘At present. No doubt he will have a different mistress by the end of the Season. I’ve heard that he is fickle.’

      ‘And you see me as being no different?’

      ‘I do not know you well enough to say.’

      ‘But based on what little you do know of me, you are willing to say that I am no better than Collins, whom you acknowledge to be a rake and a wastrel.’

      ‘I did not say that,’ Victoria said quickly. ‘Pray do not put words in my mouth, Mr Devlin. It is simply that I have seen you on several occasions with nothing more pressing to do than to enjoy every minute of your life.’

      ‘I see,’ Alistair said. ‘So apart from minding my father’s books and occasionally checking in on the welfare of his estates, I have little else of value to occupy my time, is that what you’re saying?’

      ‘If you have, I would be happy to hear about it.’

      If you have … Alistair’s mouth tightened. So, that was what she thought of him. That he was an indolent gentleman with nothing better to do than while away his spare time in brothels and hells. How lowering to see himself through her eyes. To think he had been about to tell her about Mrs Hutchins and the children. Perhaps even to take her there and explain what he hoped to do with the new orphanage. To try to make her understand how important the work was to him. He could only think now how fortunate was the timing of her remarks. He had no intention of proving himself to her—or to anyone else. ‘I regret, Miss Bretton, that your opinion of me is so low,’ he said at length. ‘Clearly I am no different to you than the beggar in the street.’

      ‘That’s not true!’

      ‘Isn’t it? You see me as being rich and indolent, with nothing more important to do than while away my time in idle pursuits. But you know nothing of my life or of the type of man I am,’ he said, turning the carriage left at the next street. ‘Which is your house?’

      He saw her look around in surprise, as if only now becoming aware of where they were. ‘I thought you had a call to make first.’

      ‘I did, but the nature of my business would have prevented me from including you in it and I had no wish to leave you standing in the street.’

      Alistair knew he was being vague, just as he knew from the expression on Victoria’s

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