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She scoffed. “I work with people at the shelter who are a lot less fortunate in their circumstances than you, and yet none of them have lowered themselves to theft and deceit.”

“How can you possibly know what I went through?” he asked as he looked up and met her eyes. His voice was still soft, dare she say, gentle, but she could clearly see an inexplicable fire raging in his gaze. Was that anger?

“You are a duke’s son! You inherited his money. He paid for your education. You skirt the fringes of high society because of who you are.”

His fingers flexed around the fork before he resumed chasing his food across the plate. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Those people in the shelter… they were born with nothing!” She slashed the air with her hand. “No money, no title, nothing! And they managed to get to where they are without trickery and blackmail.”

“Truly?” This time, he dropped his fork and leaned against the back of his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “And what do they have now? What have they gotten for their benevolent ways? They claw and scrape and work their arses off only to hide in squalor from men and women who used, abused, and tossed them aside. And now they get scraps of food from people above their station who got everything they have simply by the luck of the draw and not by merit. And unlike what you might believe, everything I got I had to work for. I had never got anything I didn’t put effort into. Even if that effort was to trick, steal, and cheat from the more fortunate but less deserving than I.”

Victoria took a few seconds to reel from shock. “Is that what you think of me?” she whispered. “That I am more fortunate but less deserving than you? Is that why you pursued me? Tricked me? To get what you think you deserve?”

He swallowed, closing himself off again. “One day you will realize that everything I did was not the selfish act of a criminal. Everything I did was for you. Even if you can’t see it yet.”

Victoria scoffed and stood, leaning her hands against the table. “And I hope that you will realize one day that there is no excuse for lying and tricking someone. Especially someone you claim to love.” She turned on her heel and dashed toward the bedroom.

She was not going to continue arguing with him, especially now when she knew how little he thought of her.

Besides, she needed to bathe and prepare for her outing. She had no time to waste on the selfish bastard who was deluded and thought he knew best.

How could she have ever lusted after him, the inconsiderate lout! How could she have ever thought she loved him?

And lastly, what devil had prompted her to marry him in the first place?

* * *

Autumn 1741

Victoria lay prone on the bed, looking at the clock every two minutes. She glanced at the windowsill; the candle was running out, and soon the room would be enveloped in complete darkness. The lonely handkerchief billowed in the wind outside, soaked in rain, but there was no sign of William.

At Victoria’s urging, tonight he was supposed to formally ask her uncle’s permission to court her. However, there was an air of hesitancy around him, his demeanor quiet, ever since she made the request.

Part of her worried he merely wanted to steal a few liberties, dally with her affections, and then disappear.

Yet he sounded so sincere speaking of a future with a loving wife. Aside from their clandestine meetings, he had conducted himself like a perfect gentleman, being respectful and not presumptuous. He never stole more than a few kisses and made no empty vows.

Victoria couldn’t imagine he would simply vanish without a word. And yet… doubts started creeping in. Had she been mistaken to trust him? Was he truly serious or just masquerading as an honorable suitor?

She prayed her faith in him wasn’t misplaced. The thought of being so intimate then cast aside was too painful to bear. All she could do was hope her instincts about him were right and that soon his intentions would be proven true.

And then another worrying thought crept in. What if he had asked her uncle’s permission to court her, only to be refused?

William had admitted to being the black sheep of his family. But surely Uncle Bastian wouldn’t reject him for that. Her uncle wasn’t exactly a favored son himself. He, Frau Elinor, and Victoria had always been the misfits, the scapegoats of the family.

A slight rap on the window startled her out of her thoughts.

Slava Bogu!

She jumped into a sitting position and glanced at the rain-soaked window. She couldn’t see clearly due to the rain, but she didn’t have to. Who else would be crazy enough to climb the wet trellis to a second-story window, especially in the pouring rain?

She opened the window, and William swiftly crawled inside.

As he straightened, he took her hands in his cold ones and looked into her eyes with a desperation she had never seen.

“He said no,” Victoria guessed immediately.

William swallowed and gave a sharp nod. “He said no.”