He shrugged. "When speculators guess correctly, they make money. When they don't, they lose. They deserve what they get."
"It isn't just rich businessmen who are affected," she snapped. "Did you know that our butler invested his life savings in the company because he trusted your business judgment?"
Peregrine was taken aback. "I didn't know that. I'll reimburse him for his losses."
"That will help him, but what about all the others who are involved?" Sara exclaimed. "Some of the investors in the railway may be rich speculators, but there must be many others like Gates, modest people trying to earn a little hope and security.''
"They took their chances like anyone else."
"But they didn't know that they were investing in a company that you had decided to use as a weapon." Her mouth was a tight line. "You have been cutting a swath like the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Deliberately ruining the railway was bad enough, but your lack of action about the brothels was unforgivable. You could have closed that ghastly place that Jenny was in, but you didn't do it."
"I was waiting for the right time," he said defensively.
"Damn the right time!" Sara leaped to her feet, unable to sit still any longer. "You have known about the place for months, and every night of that time, girls like Jenny have been suffering at the hands of strangers."
The best reply he could make was "I helped Jenny."
"That's not good enough, Mikahl!" Sara said, her voice trembling. "She is only one person. What about the other innocent people who have been suffering because you have been so determined to slowly savor every particle of your revenge?"
"The world is full of evil. Nothing I might do will change that. If I had closed down Mrs. Kent's house, another one just like it would be open a week later."
"But you could have done something that would have helped a few girls, and you didn't!" She bowed her head and pressed her hand over her eyes. "You don't even understand why that bothers me, do you? Because you can survive anything, you have no compassion for others who are less strong. You might help someone you know personally, but you have no thought for anyone else."
"Why should I?" Feeling heated, he peeled off his coat and tossed it over a chair. "It is quite enough to be concerned with those I know. I have never deliberately harmed anyone who did not deserve it."
She shook her head dully. "The fact that you are not deliberately harming strangers does not absolve you of responsibility. Nothing that Charles Weldon did to you can justify what you are doing to others."
His anger at her criticism tilted over into fury. "There you are wrong, my innocent little wife. Whatever I do to Charles Weldon will be less than he deserves. For years, the only thing that kept me alive was knowing that someday I would make him suffer as he had made me suffer. And I promised myself that I would be close enough to savor his pain."
"And that includes putting his daughter in a brothel?" Sara said, her voice a bleak thread of sound. "When I saw that on your list, I couldn't believe that you would do it."
"Nor did I do it," he said sharply. "The idea had occurred to me, but I decided it would be enough if she disappeared for a few days, and Weldon thought that she had been sent to a whorehouse. He would have all the suffering without the girl being injured."
Sara's eyes widened with disbelief. "I suppose I must be grateful that you had met Eliza in person. Would you have cheerfully put her in a brothel if she was only a name to you? The fact that you could even consider doing something like that—dear God, you have turned yourself into a monster." She turned away, no longer able to look at her husband.
Peregrine caught her wrist and roughly turned her to face him. "If I am a monster, it is what he made me."
Deliberately she scanned him from head to foot. "Charles Weldon didn't ruin your life in any obvious way. You are a successful, wealthy, intelligent man. You can do and be almost anything you wish. It seems that you choose to be a monster."
Furious, he wanted to shake her. Instead, he released her wrist. "You have no idea what you are talking about."
"Then tell me," Sara said softly, her stark eyes meeting his. "What did Charles Weldon do to you? Why do you believe you are justified in committing crimes while trying to destroy him?"
Above all, he had wanted to avoid this. Yet he knew that if he could not make Sara understand, a breach that might never heal would open up between them.
He spun away, not able to look at her. "I told you that Jamie McFarland had taken me on his ship. For two years I sailed with him, seeing the world and learning whatever eccentric thing he felt like teaching me. Then, when I was ten, the ship was captured by pirates from Tripoli."