“Perdy, dear, are you all right?” her mother demanded. Then she spun on Vaughn. “What happened to her? What did you do?”
“Mama, please!” Perdita gasped. “He saved me from Milburn.”
“What? Milburn? But that’s not possible.”
“I’m afraid it is,” her father said. “Darlington and I just threw the bastard out into the snow.”
“That is all?” Her mother’s voice rose. “Reginald, you need to go out and find that man and shoot him. Do you understand me?”
“As much as I adore your thirst for vengeance, my dear, we cannot shoot a man in the back. Not even the local magistrate would allow that.”
“Then shoot him in the front! The local magistrate be damned!” her mother snarled like a protective wolf.
“Darby, she needs a doctor. Can you send a lad to ride to the village? I’d go, but I will not leave her here alone.” Vaughn approached the bed and gingerly cupped her cheek, trying to offer her a reassuring smile, but he faltered.
“Perdita...” For some reason that tenderness, his tenderness broke her last bit of strength that had kept up her composure. She burst into tears, slid away from her mother, and reached for him. He curled his arms around her body, delicately at first, before his hold tightened. The warmth of his chest and his dark masculine scent mixed with a hint of winter chill that clung to his clothes soothed her.
She knew her parents were speaking, but she didn’t want to face them. Not yet. “Vaughn, make them go to bed, please. I don’t want them to stay up and worry. I need to be alone.”
He cleared his throat. “I understand, sweetheart.” He let go of her and walked over to where her anxious parents stood. Perdita turned away and lay upon her bed, her face buried in the blankets.
“Leave her alone? With you? Absolutely not!” Perdita’s mother hissed and came over to her by the bed so that Perdita couldn’t avoid her gaze.
“Mama, I wish to be left alone. But I would feel safer if Lord Darlington remained with me.”
“But...” Her mother struggled for words. “We have guests. It isn’t...”
Perdita sat up and grasped her mother’s hands. “I don’t care one whit about scandal right now. He saved me from a man who deserves far worse from them. Let them wag their tongues about Milburn’s actions, not Vaughn’s.”
Her mother’s lip quivered, and she stared at Perdita for a long moment before she nodded. “Very well. You are engaged, after all...” Then she turned to Vaughn. “If you do anything...” Fury flashed in her mother’s eyes.
“I won’t.” Vaughn’s tone was completely serious. Perdita lay back down and closed her eyes, wishing for the humiliation and pain of this moment to end.
She heard the door close. The candles by the bed were snuffed out except for one, which remained close to her side of the bed.
“They are gone. If you decide at any moment that you wish them to return, I will fetch them at once. They will bring the doctor when he arrives, and you will see him for your injuries. I insist upon that.” Vaughn’s voice was firmer now. The natural command in his tone was a comfort. But she was afraid of his tenderness, afraid it came from a place of pity and not affection.
The tears coating her cheeks dried and made her skin tingle. Affection? She wanted Vaughn’s affection? When had that become a concern?
“Perdita?” She flinched when he touched her shoulder. He moved his hand, and she immediately missed him.
She sniffed. “Vaughn, please don’t pull away. I’m still rather jumpy after...” She couldn’t face the awful horror of what almost happened. He stood beside the bed, his eyes glowing and his hair falling over them. His hands were still bloodied, and she realized his skin was broken in a few places.
She sat up and reached for his hands, catching them before he could pull them away. “You’re hurt.”
“It’s only a scratch or two.” He pulled his hands away from hers and walked over to the washbasin, dipping his hands into the water.
“Damn, it’s cold,” he muttered, and wiped his hands on the spare cloth beside the basin. When he turned to face her again, his grim expression made her stomach clench in anxious knots.
“What happened tonight with Milburn...” He paused, and she knew with dreadful certainty what he was going to say. So she decided to beat him to it.
“I understand. Milburn cannot possibly expect to take my hand now. You’ve done more than I asked. You are free to return to London. I will have my father announce the breaking of the engagement tomorrow.”
He quirked one brow. “That is not what I was going to say.” He took a step toward her, then halted as if rethinking his closeness.
“You weren’t?” A silly girl’s hope flooded through her. The bargain was over, and he had no reason to stay, even though she wanted him to.
“I was going to say that given everything that has happened, I think it’s best if we see this through to its end.” He looked down at his boots, his voice strangely quiet. “I brought a special license with me.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant, and her head was aching something fierce. “Vaughn, please, say what you mean.” She touched her forehead. The spot where she’d hit the floor was still tender.
“We ought to marry. As soon as possible. Perhaps Christmas Day? That would give you tomorrow, Christmas Eve, to plan a small ceremony at the local church.”
Perdita was speechless. Marriage? Was he serious? She had only just admitted to herself that she liked him.
“I know this is sudden and unexpected, but I believe it is a good solution. Milburn won’t stop, until you’re properly protected as the wife of a peer. Only then will you be safe. I fear, however, that it won’t stop him from hurting your father with his supposed evidence, but we shall weather the scandal together. I am no stranger to those.” There it was, her safety, his only reason for proposing a hasty marriage. Not because of love or even infatuation, but a simple desire to protect her.
Some ladies would find that chivalrous act enough reason to say yes, but not her. Whenever she had contemplated marriage, it had always been with one thought in mind—to marry for love. A great, all-consuming, passionate love whose flame would challenge even the stars.
“Shall I tell your parents you agree?” he asked.
The silence in the room grew until she felt once again she couldn’t breathe.
“No.”
He stared at her, his gaze inscrutable, before he began to chuckle wryly.
“You find it amusing that I’ve rejected you?” She sniffled, tears burning her eyes. She would not cry—she would not.
“I think it is, yes. I suppose it’s because I mistakenly believed that you bore some tendre for me. You don’t, do you?”
“I...” She did care about him, but that wasn’t why she’d refused him. It was because he didn’t care about her, not in the way she wanted. Her hesitation lit his eyes with a soft fire that left her speechless.
“So, you do care. How curious. What, pray tell, is holding you back then?” He eased down on the bed beside her. He looked so inviting, so charming at that moment, with his hair ruffled and his coat gone. She wanted nothing more than to crawl onto his lap and cover his face with kisses and forget the world outside the room. But she couldn’t, he didn’t care about her.
“Perdita, we can be honest with each other, can’t we?” he asked, cupping her chin gently and turning her face toward his. A tear trailed down her cheek. He caught the bit of moisture delicately with his finger, the way one would catch a dewdrop from a flower’s petal.
“You don’t...you don’t love me. And I understand. This was an arrangement meant to solve both our problems. But you go too far. I could never marry a man unless he loved me. Loved me madly. Loved me to distraction. I deserve a great love. Even you deserve that. We cannot marry simply to afford me protection from Milburn. It is not reason enough.”
Vaughn brushed the pad of his thumb over her cheek, his eyes a pair of dark sapphires.
&
nbsp; “I do not know if I’m capable of love, but I care for you more than I have for any other woman. And that is no idle boast. When I’m with you, things seem sharper, clearer.” He seemed to struggle with his words. “It was as though I was in a listless, hazy dream. When I first kissed you in London, I woke up, clear as a bell ringing in my ears. Everything seems more real, more true when I’m with you.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. Then he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers, holding her face in his hands.
“I don’t know how to love, if I am honest. But I don’t want to stop this. It was always a charade for you, but it never was for me. I always wished to marry you.”
She stared at him, pulling her face away from his, but only to see his expression more clearly. “What?”
“Yes. The night you came to my townhouse, I decided then that I wished to marry you.”
“But...” How could he have made that decision then? It didn’t seem possible.
“Take this chance with me,” Vaughn said. “Say you will marry me. We need only the vicar at the church and a gown for you. I even have my wedding clothes ready. They’re a tad old, I’m afraid, as I couldn’t afford a new set.” His face reddened at the confession.
Perdita’s heart raced wildly again. Could she do this? Marry him on a leap of faith that he might one day love her?
“Answer one question.”
“Ask it.” He continued to stroke her cheek, the gesture sweet and soothing. How unlike the cold rake she’d believed him to be. Perhaps he could surprise her one day with love. He made her want to believe anything was possible.
She watched him carefully. “Why do you care for me? What makes me different from any other young heiress you could marry to satisfy your debts?”
Vaughn didn’t pull away, but he didn’t respond immediately, either. She searched his eyes for any hint of deception but saw only a flicker of hope. “I have had plenty of chances to marry others. Even a reputation such as mine does not scare away the most determined mothers with marriageable daughters or those looking for a tie to a title. Accepting your offer to participate in a false engagement, however, was never about your fortune. If you recall, my terms were to be introduced to Lennox in order to make my own fortune.”
Perdita nodded. She couldn’t forget or ignore that truth.
“That would have been enough for me. But I’ve been intrigued by you since I met you at the garden party in September. You had this cleverness about you, and when I learned that you write astronomy articles, well...”
“You know about that?” Her heart leapt into her throat.
“Of course, I do. The penmanship on the draft you showed me is very feminine, but I suspect you would alter that when you felt it was ready to present. I adore that you write, that you think, that you defy the role society has set for you. Do you have any idea how refreshing that is in a woman? I quite love that about you.”
“Would you demand I stop if we married?” she asked quietly, hope and fear warring inside her.
“Stop? Heavens no. I’d encourage it. I’ve never wanted a normal life, let alone a normal wife. I want a woman who will not shy from trouble, who defies convention, who loves it when I tell her to be good in bed and trusts me to teach her about passion. You’ve always been the answer for me, Perdita. Don’t you see? I could marry no one else but you.”
He smiled then, that boyish smile she’d seen in the woods, the one that made her chest tighten and her head feel faint.
“You promise our marriage would be one that would not trap us both? I cannot agree to being trapped in a gilded cage.”
“Nor could I. If there’s one thing I’m certain of, its that marrying you would be thrilling.” He dropped his gaze to her lips, still smiling. “What’s it to be?” he asked. “Give this rogue a proper chance? I swear I shall make an excellent husband once I’m reformed, and I quite welcome the challenge.”
Perdita sniffed and smiled shyly. “This may be madness, but perhaps for once I should embrace it. I accept.” She leaned in the same moment he did, and they kissed. It was a gentle kiss that burned slow and hot, despite the tender brush of lips and the tentative touch of hands upon skin.
When they finally parted, Vaughn carefully touched her forehead with his long, elegant fingers, scowling.
“I wanted to kill that man for what he did to you. I wanted to wring his bloody neck. I was so afraid...”
“I was too, but when I saw you come in the door, I knew you would save me.” She crawled into his lap, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.
“I never want you to feel that you need to be saved. But I vow to protect you, to always be there for you, sweetheart.” His gently spoken promise made her heart flutter wildly. For the Devil of London to utter such words, it had to be a spell born of magic, the magic of love she hoped for...someday.
At that moment the doctor knocked upon the door. Vaughn reluctantly set her down. She felt his hesitation to let her go. It made her feel warm all over.
“Come in,” she called.
Dr. Williams was a middle-aged man with a black bag, and his coat was dusted with snow. Perdita’s parents were behind him, both looking anxious.
“Could everyone wait outside, please?” the doctor asked. “You too, lad.”
Vaughn didn’t leave the bed until she nodded at him. He joined her parents outside, and the doctor set his bag down on the table by the bed.
“There now. Let’s take a look at your head first, Miss Darby.”
Chapter Nine
Vaughn wore a path in the Persian rugs covering the floor of the hallway, barely aware that Perdita’s parents were watching his every step. On either side of him, paintings of happy lovers seemed to mock him with their innocence.
Mr. Darby fixed him with a formidable gaze. “Darlington, I sense there’s more to tonight’s events than Milburn suddenly accosting my daughter. I believe you know what’s happening, and you had better tell me.”
Vaughn took in a deep breath. He stopped pacing. Just beyond her parents, Vaughn could see heavy drapes drawn over the windows to keep out the cold. He stared at them for a long moment, focusing his thoughts before he finally spoke.
“How much do either of you know about Samuel Milburn?”
“Oh, not much,” Perdita’s mother said, her brows knitting. “He’s well set up, and the ton seems to approve of him. The society pages paint him as a generous and eligible bachelor. I had no reason to know he was...” She didn’t continue, but her eyes blurred with tears.
“I admit I didn’t do much asking,” said Perdita’s father. “I figured if Perdita told me she was interested in him, then I would start asking questions.” Darby suddenly paled. “She mentioned... Oh God, she said something about him having a cruel streak, but I didn’t listen.”
Vaughn crossed his arms over his chest. “Let me tell you what sort of man he is, then. Milburn is a brute and a coward. He killed one of his mistresses, though no one can prove it wasn’t an accident. But he bragged about it in the gambling hells. He likes to hurt ladies, force them to his will, break them in ways I will not speak of. That is what he tried to do tonight to your daughter. And he was trying to force your daughter into marriage by threatening you.”
“Me?” Mr. Darby looked as if an assassin might pop out at any moment.
“He claims to have documents that prove you have been involved in smuggling goods into the country and he threatened to take that proof to the local magistrate.”
Mrs. Darby covered her mouth, her complexion paling. Perdita’s father put an arm around her shoulders.
“Breathe, Minerva. Just breathe.” He patted her shoulder, keeping a tight hold as he met Vaughn’s gaze. “That’s utter nonsense. I haven’t been involved in any such...” Darby struggled for words.
Vaughn nodded. “I believe you. We think he is working with your investment partners, arranging for you to take the blame for their illegal acts. Perdita feared Milburn and his evidence so m
uch she came to me at my home in London and beseeched me to enter into a false engagement with her. As you may know, I have a somewhat unscrupulous reputation in certain circles. She hoped that an engagement to me would scare Milburn off. Unfortunately, our charade only made the bastard furious enough to attack her. In his twisted mind, he already owned her.”
Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Darby spoke for several seconds.
“But... Are you saying you aren’t going to marry her then?” Mrs. Darby finally asked.
“Far from it. A true affection has grown between us, and she has agreed to proceed with the wedding without false pretenses. Milburn won’t dare come after her if I’m there to protect her.”
“Why does he want to hurt her? I still don’t understand,” Mrs. Darby said. “Why didn’t he simply blackmail my husband directly? We have plenty of money. He could have demanded we pay him off. Why go after our daughter?”
“Why indeed? That is why I believe the evidence to be false. You would not pay a man off for fabricating a lie.”
Mr. Darby nodded at this. “I wouldn’t pay him a half penny for such a thing.”
“But how could your daughter possibly ask if such a scandalous accusation was true or not? And what if you denied it and she had doubt? That fear is what Milburn preyed on. Sometimes the thought of a misdeed can hold more power than the proof.”
Darby shared a knowing look with Vaughn before he continued.
“But it goes beyond that. Do you know the sort of man who buys a spirited horse because he likes to break the beast? He takes pleasure in destroying its spirit and ruining it until it’s a mindless, frightened scrap of horseflesh.”
Mrs. Darby nodded. Everyone knew that kind of man, a man who would kick a helpless pup or slap a woman for raising her eyes at him. Cruelty was the shield of many cowards.
“He’s such a man?” she asked Vaughn. “He saw my daughter’s spirit and fire, and he wanted to crush it?”
Vaughn sighed and nodded. “If we can save Perdita from him, then all we need to worry about is Milburn’s supposed proof. Even if it is fabricated, he may intend to harm your good name.”
Unwrapping a Rogue: A Christmas Regency Boxset Page 10