Chapter 35

Chapter Thirty-Five

V ictoria woke in the middle of the night and reached for Robert. Her fingers touched empty sheets. She waited for a few minutes, thinking perhaps he had gone into the washroom, but when he didn't return, she sat up and lit the bedside candle.

They had been at Tolley Manor for four, almost five days, and every night it had been the same. She'd stirred from deep slumber in the early hours and found him gone. The first couple of nights, she'd been too tired to do anything about it, and had fallen back to sleep. Robert was a devil in the bedroom and when he was done with her, she was left sated and utterly exhausted.

He always returned before the dawn, often waking her with his kisses and demanding male needs, but she still wondered where he went.

Tonight, when she had woken, Victoria couldn't go back to sleep. Where on earth did Robert go in the middle of the night? Victoria glanced at the door, as a sense of unease grew in her mind.

Was he having sex with one of the servants? He wouldn't be the first nobleman to keep a wife and a mistress under his roof. Maybe that's why he hadn't bothered to seek out a wife until now.

Her instincts told her she was wrong, that he wasn't the sort of man to do that. Then again, they hadn't been wed all that long. It would be the ultimate irony if she had passed up all those other nobles only to find herself married to a serial adulterer.

But Victoria was her mother's daughter. She wasn't going to lay here in willful ignorance. She placed her hand flat on his side of the bed—the sheets were still warm.

He can't have gone too far.

Throwing back the bedclothes, Victoria hurried to the armoire and pulled out some clothes. Quickly dressing, she grabbed one of Robert's coats from his wardrobe and put it on. It swam on her, but with the belt secured tightly at the waist she was able to lift the coat up and avoid standing on the hem.

Her gaze settled on her travel trunk. Heading out into the night was a dangerous endeavor. This might not be London, but she didn't know the area, or what wild beasts might lurk outside in the dark.

She considered her options for a moment, then crossed the floor to the trunk and threw the lid open. From the bottom of the case, she took out a small solid weapons box. Within minutes she had her pistol loaded, and a shot purse in her hands.

What had Coco said? If you load a weapon and point it at someone, make sure you are prepared to fire it.

If I find him in bed with one of the servants, what will I do?

Shooting her new husband might not be the best course of action. Victoria blinked back tears. Maybe she should put the weapon away.

"But if he is playing me false, this might give him just enough of a fright," she muttered. Victoria dropped the loaded pistol into her right pocket, and the shot purse into her left. Reaching for the doorknob, she gave a prayer. "Please lord, don't let it be that."

The house was eerily quiet. No light, no sound. Victoria stood at the top of the stairs and listened. The thump of her heart was the only thing she could hear. Slowly making her way downstairs, she stopped every few steps and listened once more.

Nothing. No one moved about the house.

She had just got to the bottom of the staircase and was considering whether it was wise or ridiculously foolish to head down to the servants quarters, when she caught sight of a flash of light from outside the window. Victoria hurried over and pressed her face to the glass, peering out into the night.

At the top of the laneway which snaked through the estate all the way from the stables through to the main road, a group of laborers was hauling a wagon laden with what appeared to be crates. Behind them walked Jasper the steward. Beside him strode Robert. Both men were carrying rifles.

What the devil are they doing?

Tolley Manor grew fruit, vegetables, and herbs. And from what she understood, there were no crops which required harvesting in the middle of the night.

A well-bred noblewoman would decide it wasn't her place to get involved in such matters. That she had a household and servants to deal with, and that what happened outside wasn't her concern. Victoria had never been one for resisting the lure of curiosity.

"Care ‘ll kill a cat, but I won't remain ignorant of what is going on at my home," she muttered.

Slipping quietly out the rear entrance of the main house, Victoria followed the small procession of estate workers, steward, and duke as they continued down the lane.

The men were all silent; no one spoke. From the way they all walked, continually checking from left to right, it soon became clear to her that this was not the first time any of them had undertaken this kind of work.

What are they doing?

Her heart raced as she trailed them, silent as a wraith. Whenever one of the group turned to look back down the lane, Victoria would dash behind a tree and hide. And when she reached the stretch of the road where there was no cover, she simply crouched and remained as still as she could, hoping that no one saw her.

A half mile down the road, the little group came to a halt. The wagon was dragged off to one side, and Robert moved forward. From her vantage point, Victoria caught sight of a large ring of keys in his hand. The jangle of them was loud enough to split the night.

The Tolley Manor workers moved out of the way as their master disappeared from the road and into the undergrowth. Victoria quickly moved, taking up a spot behind a nearby tree.

Robert eventually reappeared, after which both he and Jasper stepped aside, as the workers began unloading the wagon. What appeared to be crates and barrels were lifted down and carried off into the trees. Each time the men returned, their hands were empty. Somewhere out of sight of the road they were storing the load.

Victoria pursed her lips. She couldn't understand why they would have to move barrels and crates in the dead of night. The only logical reason would be that they didn't want to be seen.

At least he isn't warming the bed of another woman.

While she consoled herself with that thought, she wasn't entirely sure if what she was witnessing was any better. Her hopeful heart told her it was, but fear and nagging doubt whispered it was something else. Something much worse.

Robert took a swig of whisky from his hipflask. It was close to five in the morning and the air was chilly. He smiled at the thoughtful gift his new bride had given him. Victoria's wedding present was both stylish and functional. The thought of his wife, still sleeping soundly in their bed, pricked sharply at his guilt.

Victoria was under the impression that he was a sweet-hearted farmer who wrote reviews for the newspaper in his spare time. What she would make of things if she were to ever discover that her husband was in fact a highwayman, a smuggler, and an unashamed thief.

Would she hate me?

Could he possibly make her understand his reasons for stealing from the East India, his need to break their vice-like monopoly, or would she see him as nothing more than an outright villain? A scoundrel who had no business in marrying a woman of noble birth.

In the past that might not have bothered him, but it certainly did now. He couldn't imagine looking at Victoria and knowing that she saw him as less of a man. That she was married to someone who had broken the rules of honor in order to do what he thought was right. His mantra of by all means necessary now sounded so empty.

If George and his wife could hear him now, they'd laugh themselves hoarse. Robert had always brushed away their concerns about these illegal endeavors. But finding himself in this strange position, wondering if it was all worthwhile, made him finally see their side of things.

If I don't steal any more spices, I could walk away.

He didn't need the money. With Victoria's sizeable dowry at his disposal, he could focus on his crops and in time take on the East India Company without the fear of them coming after him.

Robert was still pondering his next move when Jasper appeared from out of the trees and gave him a nod. That was the last of the crates which had left Tolley House in London the day after he and Victoria had departed.

Tomorrow, two wagon loads of those now rebranded spices would be on their way to Cambridge to be sold at market. That would then leave the secret cache, which only he and Jasper knew about, as the final remaining haul of stolen spices on the Tolley Manor estate.

Robert and Jasper, guns still at the ready, brought up the rear as the Tolley estate workers made their way back toward the manor. Slowing his steps, Robert turned to his loyal steward and asked, "What would you say if I told you I was thinking of us calling a temporary halt to this line of work?"

His steward cleared his throat. "I would say that your recent marriage has given you room for thought, Your Grace. You fear losing the good favor of your duchess. Lady Victoria is a rare woman indeed, and I wouldn't want to be the man who disappoints her."

Jasper gave him a knowing grin, and Robert chuckled. "Wise words indeed. Let's make tomorrow our final run for the time being. It will give me the opportunity to reconsider any future plans for stealing from the Honorable East India."

As he spoke those words, Robert felt the weight lift from his shoulders. For Victoria he wanted to be a good husband, not a fraud. He wanted to be able to look his wife in the eye and know that she was proud of him.

But even he couldn't deny the formidable hold his burning desire to fight the East India held over him. The thought of giving up and walking away was one thing, but actually doing it, was something else.

Victoria crept back to the house and upstairs to the ducal suite. She carefully hung Robert's spare coat back into the wardrobe and put her own clothes away. Clad once more in her nightgown, she slipped into bed, doing her best to quickly warm the sheets. But sleep eluded her.

She was still awake when she heard the sound of footsteps outside in the hall, followed by the squeak of the bedroom door being opened. Victoria closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep as Robert moved quietly about the room, undressing. He opened the wardrobe and put his clothes carefully away.

There was a clang of something metallic hitting the floor, and Robert cursed. "Damn keys."

She'd seen the key ring in his hand as Robert headed away from the house. He must have dropped it. The jangle as he picked up the keys and put them back into the wardrobe had Victoria wondering what exactly it was that he and his men were keeping so securely under lock and key.

The bed dipped as Robert climbed back in and pulled the blankets over himself. Victoria pretended to rouse from sleep. "Oh, where have you been?" she asked, in her best croaky voice.

He pressed himself against her, and even through her nightgown, she could feel the night chill on his skin. "Nowhere my love. I've been here the whole time. You must have been dreaming."

His cold hands and feet bore witness to his lie. The only part of Robert which was warm were his lips. He put them to good use and kissed her. "Go back to sleep."

She rolled over in the bed, and he cuddled up against her back, the bed trembling as he shivered under the blankets.

He just lied to me. But why?

Lessons from her parents' marriage had taught her not to start a fight in the middle of the night. To choose her battles wisely. If Robert felt the need to tell her mistruths, then he must have his reasons. She'd let him get his sleep, then wait for the right moment to ask about his nocturnal habits.

Teeth gritted, she stared at the wall. Her mother, the one person whose counsel she so badly needed, was many miles away in London. While Robert slept soundly beside her, Victoria pondered her future. Her greatest fear was that her marriage was already over before it had really begun. That she would never be able to fully trust him.