Chapter 42

Chapter Forty-Two

T hey eventually found the horse. Victoria fashioned a makeshift sling for Robert out of her scarf and with her seated in the saddle, and him walking beside the horse, they began the long, slow journey across country toward home. When he suggested that they would need to skirt the town of Bishops Stortford and make for the other road which led to Saffron Walden, she didn't protest. He tried to engage her in conversation, but Victoria didn't want to talk. Nothing he could say would fix any of this.

The sun was a pale glow on the horizon by the time they finally made it to the laneway which led up to the manor house. When they reached the small cottage at the start of the lane, Victoria leaned forward and pulled on the reins. The horse came to a halt.

"We are but a half mile from home, why are we stopping?" asked Robert.

Victoria swung her leg over the side of the horse—Robert's gentleman's saddle had forced her to ride astride. It was a different way of being on a horse, but she actually found it more comfortable and easier to balance than the traditional lady's saddle. And it was easier to dismount. She waved him away when he went to help.

"Let me find my own way down, the last thing we need is for you to injure your shoulder again."

He did as asked, standing back as she landed nimbly on her feet. "Did you want to walk the rest of the way?" he asked.

Victoria pointed toward the cottage. "I will, but first we need to talk. And for what I have to say, I don't want any of the estate staff to be within earshot."

Without further ado, she tethered the horse to a nearby post then walked over to the tiny cottage and pushed the door open.

The cottage was small inside, but it had a table and a bed. And while it was clean, the air inside still held the strong aroma of various spices. No doubt Robert and his men had used the stonecutter's cottage for their smuggling operations. Victoria swallowed deep, forcing down her rising anger.

As Robert filled the doorway behind her, blocking out the morning sun, the room turned dark. "Are you sure you want to talk in here?"

There was a definite hint of pleading in his voice. She could understand his need for them to return to the manor house and in doing so allow him to regain some control. But she'd decided that since neither of them was going to be comfortable with the topic of conversation, this place was as good as any.

"Yes, I am certain, Robert. Would you please close the door."

She moved over to the table and pulled out the small wooden chair and sat down. When he went to follow suit, Victoria pointed at the bed. "I think it best if we maintain some sort of distance from one another while we talk. You can lie down, or if you'd be more comfortable, you could stand."

He took a step back, situating himself against the wall, close to the door. She closed her eyes and took a deep sigh. "I want to hear it all. From when and how it all began, through every dirty deed you have committed. Right up to, and including, this week. Leave nothing out."

She was asking the impossible. He was so deep into this whole stealing and smuggling caper, he was no longer certain where Robert Tolley the villain ended and Robert Tolley, the Duke of Saffron Walden, began. He had crossed so many lines they had all become a blur.

But for her, for Victoria, he would try and find that truth.

"Forgive me for this hopefully brief but educational introductory history lesson," he offered.

Victoria simply lay her hands in her lap and nodded.

"The East India Company has been around for hundreds of years. At one point their private army was bigger than the entire British armed forces. They have effectively stolen from and then ruled entire countries, all in the name of furthering the interests of the EIC and lining the pockets of its owners."

"Yes, they have quite the reputation, which is why their powers are being stripped by parliament. My father has been on several committees to oversee the changes. I'm not completely ignorant of English history and current politics."

Yet again his wife was showing him just how well-read and intelligent she was, and how much he had underestimated her.

"The bill which went through parliament in 1813 abolishing the company's trade monopoly with India, has only been moderately successful. What has happened is that many of their nabobs have returned from India with vast amounts of wealth. They have been buying up seats in parliament, and doing their best to stymie any further changes that might hurt the East India."

He pushed off the wall. It was important that she understood what he had to say next, why he had been so driven to take up the battle against the East India. That what he had done went beyond an ongoing tussle over spices.

Victoria moved to the edge of her chair and sat with hands held in front of her. "I read the newspaper every day, not just the social pages, so I am well aware of what you have said. But what I can't comprehend is why you, a duke from Essex, decided to take on such a powerful enemy, and in such an outrageous manner. You should be here at your estate growing herbs and vegetables, not robbing people at gunpoint."

Robert scrubbed his good hand over his face and pressed on. "The East India still has a stranglehold on the spice market, both overseas and here at home. I've been fighting them for almost three years now, doing everything in my power to open up the trade. To allow local farmers like me to be able to compete in a fair market."

"And yet you haven't played fair yourself. You have held people up at gunpoint. Stolen lord knows how much bloody spice from your business rival." She got to her feet. "Not to mention the fact that you wrote numerous favorable reviews for dining establishments who purchased your illicit goods. You might think what you have been doing is all in a good cause, but in truth, it makes you no better than them. At some point I think you crossed the line from hero to villain, but you didn't notice."

Now I understand why she wanted to have this out away from the servants and estate workers. We could be here for hours. And I am not going to win.

Robert took in his wife's face. The expression on her countenance crushed his heart. She didn't see his war against the East India Company as an honorable one.

"You think me a villain?" he whispered. It tore at him to ask her such an awful question, but he had to know. Did she really see him that way? Did the woman he'd been falling in love with actually hate him?

Victoria met his gaze, and there was no mistaking the heartbreaking pain which dulled her eyes. "Yes, I do. You think you are not a villain, but I expect all villains imagine themselves as heroes of their own stories. Your end game might be an honorable outcome, but the way you have gone about things..." She threw up her hands. "You've just caused pain in a different way."

His wife's words of rebuke hit him like a punch to the gut. He'd long ago resigned himself to accepting that some things he did crossed the line of legality, perhaps even morality. But he'd never thought he would ever hear someone accuse him of being as bad as the vile East India. Of having lost his moral compass.

Victoria took a step away from the chair, her gaze moving briefly to the door, then back to him.

"As I see it, you have a choice. You either give this insane battle against the company up, and I don't mean just for me. I mean, for our children. For the people who rely upon you for their living." She swept a hand through the air, then motioned toward him. "Or you and I are done."

Her ultimatum was clear. He just didn't know if he could meet it.

Robert shook his head. He'd thought to hold off on things for a time, wait until the heat had died down. Then he would reassess the situation. But Victoria was clear in her demand for him to put an immediate end to his smuggling operations.

If he gave up the fight, everything he'd done over the past few years would have amounted to nothing. "I… I don't know if I can just stop," he stammered.

He so very badly wanted to kiss away the tears that streamed down his wife's cheeks. When Victoria got to the door, she stopped and looked back at him. The expression of heartbroken sorrow on her face almost brought him to his knees.

"If you can't, then we are finished. I shall remove myself back to my family home at Mowbray Park. I will do it quietly, and without any fuss."

"You don't understand."

"No, I don't. But what I do know for certain is that you are living on borrowed time. The only consolation I have is that someday I may find another man who wants my love. Not that it will matter a jot to you, since you'll be long dead."

She went to take hold of the door handle, but Robert seized her wrist. He couldn't let her go, not with this bitter, heartbreaking farewell. He would never let her love another.

"You are my wife, and no other man will ever touch you. Or hold your heart. Alive or dead, you belong to me. Do you hear?"

He pulled her roughly to him and smashed his lips to hers in a fiery, passionate kiss.