Hearts Entwined (Victorian Love #3) - M.A. Nichols Page 0,112

him worthy of claiming the hand of a viscount and a baron’s granddaughter?”

Victoria did not wish to address that subject, as it was unlikely to appease Mama’s objection, and so she focused on the gentleman himself.

“Mr. Dixon is everything a lady could wish for in a husband, Mama. He is ambitious but not cruel, opinionated yet not overbearing. He is intelligent and caring and a far better man than I’d ever hoped to find.”

“Then you truly love him?” asked Papa, pausing in his steps. Victoria could not see his expression, as his back was to them, but his hands were clasped behind him, his fingers fidgeting.

“I love him.” Never had she spoken words with such conviction, for they were the very essence of truth, and Victoria felt them in her soul.

Her proclamation was met with silence as Papa continued to stare at the wallpaper; Mama’s hand shook in Victoria’s hold.

“You would marry a pauper?” asked Mama, as though that were the very worst of possibilities.

“I would marry a man whose integrity and convictions will lead him to great heights—no matter that his income is minimal at present.” With each word, Victoria’s convictions burned brighter, warming her heart through, and she felt the rightness of it all. But then, loving Elijah had never been the issue.

“If it were only my future at stake, I wouldn’t hesitate to bind myself to Mr. Dixon,” said Victoria. “But I know how much Miriam and the girls’ futures depend on my marrying well.”

Mama reached an arm around Victoria’s shoulders, holding her close. “And that is right, my dear. Actions have consequences, which more than ourselves may be forced to bear. Mr. Dixon may have a gentlemanly profession, but his status is so far beneath yours. With no money or connections, you would fall far in the world and drag your sisters down by association. We must think of others—”

“Not another word, Mrs. Caswell.” Papa still did not face them, but his words brooked no refusal. They were curt and held a tone of finality that had his wife staring at him.

“I will not stand by and watch my daughter destroy her future over some fleeting sentiment.” Mama’s tone rose as she came to her feet to glare at Papa’s back. “I married for love and what good has it done me? A lifetime of scraping by on a pittance while the money lenders wait at our door.”

Papa turned to face her, his expression like a block of ice. “Demanding payments for your fripperies, frivolities, and all the rest needed to maintain this lie you insist on living. You’ve spent a lifetime pursuing luxuries we cannot afford, and now, you’d have our daughter do the same?”

“We are descended from nobility—”

“What little good that has done us.”

Mama gaped. “You would disparage our great heritage?”

Papa threw his arms wide. “What has it done for us?”

The conversation ventured into uncomfortable but all too familiar territory, and Victoria recognized that her part in it was at an end. Voices raised, her parents threw barbs at each other, which were nothing more than the same frustrations that had built over their years of marriage. Like their finest china preserved for special occasions, Mama and Papa trotted out their complaints, which lay in storage until needed.

Rising from her seat, Victoria slipped around them and out the door, hoping she remained unnoticed. The door slid closed behind her, and Victoria sagged against it, her head resting against the wood.

That had not gone as hoped.

Pushing off from the door, she meandered through the corridor, her exhausted thoughts struggling to coalesce into the brilliance she needed to sort out this problem.

Then she heard her name. Turning, Victoria found Papa striding down the hall at a hurried pace. Taking her by the arm, he led her along to the library, where they were far away from prying eyes and ears. Depositing her in an armchair, Papa remained on his feet, pacing before the fireplace for several long moments. When he did meet her gaze, his dark eyes looked far more exhausted than what would be caused by a long night of dancing.

“A father’s duty is to provide for his family.”

Victoria’s brows drew together at his declaration, but she remained silent as Papa shook his head, dropping it as he clasped his hands behind him.

“A duty I have neglected and ignored.”

“Papa—”

He held up a staying hand. “I don’t deserve your comfort, Victoria. It is a fact that I’ve allowed our family to slide into decline. I squandered