The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 1

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  Peter flushed and opened his mouth to defend himself.

  Vanessa forestalled him with one raised hand. "I don't want to engage in recriminations. I simply want a plan of action as to how to deal with this predicament without recourse to moving in with my aunt and your whole family, marrying Clifford Stone, or allowing Gerald's outrageous behavior to go unchecked."

  Peter and Toby glanced at each other and remained silent.

  "Hmm, I thought so. Well, thank you for your offer of a roof over my head, but it hasn't quite come to that yet. I'm not about to take umbrage and storm out of Hawkesworth House in high dudgeon. Gerald and I will resolve this matter one way or the other without your mother having to trouble herself over my affairs."

  "It's no trouble, I assure you," Peter said with alacrity.

  Vanessa gazed at her cousin's narrow face coolly, forcing herself not to wring her hands and thus betray her nerves. "I'm only assured of one thing. If I were to accept your offer, it would only be a matter of time before my name was linked with one or the other of you as my intended. You have no need of my fortune, Peter, but wealthy people are seldom content with what they have and always seek to acquire more."

  "But you could do far worse than--"

  She ignored his attempt to plead his case with a rapier-like glance, and fixed her sharp gaze upon his dissolute brother. "As for you, Toby, you have only a small allowance, and would be more than eager to marry me to secure your own future. Your rakish habits must be rather costly. And please don't protest that my lovely person would be a treasure in its own right. Not when you've just thrown my bad name and supposed madness in my face."

  He sat up straight. "Now Vanessa, I never meant--"

  She waved his apology away with an impatient flutter of her hand. "So unless the two of you are here to woo for my cousin Paul by proxy, I suggest we sit here and discuss the weather and other innocuous subjects."

  Peter looked thunderstruck.

  Vanessa had to suppress a smile. She was sure no woman had ever dared speak to him thus before.

  When her eldest cousin finally found his tongue, he asked, "Am I to take it then that you would entertain a proposal from my youngest brother?"

  Vanessa refrained from rolling her eyes in exasperation, and shrugged nonchalantly. "He was always pleasant enough to me when we were children. I don't know how much he's changed in the last few years since I last saw him. I would need to have time to judge for myself. But rest assured, gentleman, I'm not in a hurry to marry anyone. I'm an heiress now, and have far more choices than to be a simple dependent in my aunt's home."

  "If Clifford Stone presses his suit, you may not have any choice," Toby pointed out.

  Vanessa regarded him calmly. "I always have a choice. I refuse to be browbeaten or coaxed into going contrary to my inclination. I'm in mourning for my aunt Agatha. She's hardly cold in the ground. Until such time as I've been able to do my duty to her memory to my own satisfaction, I shall have no beaux.

  "Since I began to move in wider social circles, I have met no man yet who is sufficient temptation for me to change my mind upon the subject of matrimony. It's very kind of you, quite flattering, to be the object of your admiration. However, I must respectfully decline to receive either of you as anything other than my relatives."

  "But Vanessa--"

  She gave Peter a sharp look. "The weather is proving quite mild for this time of year, is it not?"

  "You will not be able to fob off Gerald with empty pleasantries," he growled.

  "I'm well aware of that," she said, regarding him steadily, even though inside she was in turmoil. "Perhaps if you were to speak to him as strongly as you have to me we might be able to persuade him that last night was a bad business. I shall pay Clifford back once my inheritance from my aunt is fully mine. Then we shall try to do something about my half-brother's dissolute lifestyle."

  Peter clinked down his cup next to hers and rose from his seat with a bow. "Indeed, I shall go speak with him this very moment. Failing that, I shall attempt to get Clifford Stone to see reason."

  Vanessa bristled. "I would prefer to speak with Mr. Stone myself."

  "Out of the question, Vanessa. A man like that--"

  "You can most certainly escort me as well, but Gerald has agreed to attend upon me, so that all the parties involved can reach a settlement that much more quickly."

  Peter strode for the door with an even more determined look upon his face.

  Vanessa let him go, gritting her teeth to keep from saying anything hasty she would most assuredly regret. If only he had been so assiduous in protecting her reputation last night. The card game made everything so much worse, and Clifford winning deuced awkward for all concerned.

  "I must say, Cousin, you're looking awfully well. It's been too long," Toby said with a look which Vanessa would have described as a leer.

  "Yes, indeed. But I was so busy with my studies, and the running of the estate near Lyme, I didn't come up very often. And of course thus old house just isn't the same without Pa."

  "Aye, and haunted into the bargain. Not the type of place a sprightly young lady like yourself would wish to pass the time. You must come to visit for a few days, even if you don't move out of here entirely."

  "Thank you so much, Toby, but I have no fear of ghosts. The dead hold no terrors for a good Christian. I always think it is the living with their unruly passions that we have to fear most."

  Toby had the grace to blush.

  "In any event, I've never heard the house was haunted," Vanessa added dismissively.

  "Then it must have been a very bad case of brain fever as a girl, for you were always imagining you were seeing things after your mother died."

  Vanessa stiffened. "Really? I have no recollection," she said in clipped tones. "They were no doubt the mere fancies of a child who read far too many lurid tales."

  "Er, yes, quite," Toby said in a tone which suggested that he didn't believe her assertion any more than she did. "But after all that happened, I can't really blame you--"

  Vanessa rose abruptly, almost kicking over the tea table in her haste to be rid of him. "Well, it's always pleasant to see you. It brings to mind some of my happier times here, before poor Mama--"

  She caught herself before she said more, her throat constricting with grief. "But of course you wouldn't recall them in quite the same way. The three of you were all off to university that year, when you weren't kicking up your heels in London after your various japes, leaving Paul and I behind."

  Toby colored again. "It was nothing more than youthful high spirits. Like Peter and Gerald, it's high time I thought about taking a decent wife. Surely you can't hold our past peccadilloes against us?"

  "It's none of my business, I'm sure, except insofar as you disgrace our families' good names, or not. I wish you luck in your quest, Toby. A few hours more in churches and a few hours less in the stews might yield you a decent bride after all."

  A strange light sparked in Toby's beady eyes. "My, you certainly have been raised differently. More worldly than I ever could have imagined if you know so much about brothels. But then they always do say red-haired women are the most passionate."

  Vanessa sidestepped him before he got too close. She rubbed her arms hard under her black silk sleeves to subdue her crawling skin. "Just because I know houses of ill repute exist does not make me a passionate woman, as you put it. I'm chaste, and intend to stay that way until such time as I marry. If I ever choose to wed. But with a good home and money, I have no reason to wish to relinquish my freedom, not even for love.

  "So pray do not waste your time and mine with lover-like blandishments. You're my cousin, Toby, no more and no less. Please remember that and we shall get along fine."

  "I'm sorry, but-"

  "And now, I'm going to dress for dinner. I would invite you to stay, but Gerald is master here and I'm sure you and Peter have pressing matters back at the manor. So I bid you adieu."

  She nodded to him and swept
out of the depressing drawing room before he could attempt to kiss her hand, and hurried up the stairs.

  Once in the safety of her own chamber, she shut the door quickly and put her back against the panel with a sigh of relief. Her knees soon began to tremble. How had she dared? Her cousins were of an age with Gerald, and the three of them had always made common cause with one another against her and Paul. She had surprised herself with her firmness, her refusal to be cowed.

  Perhaps her fury over Gerald's behavior had provoked such an unladylike display. Or perhaps, since she was in such dire straits anyway, she had got past caring what people thought.

  All she knew was, if she went to Stephens Manor, she would never manage to disassociate herself from the three brothers, and would be forced to marry one of them.

  At least with Clifford Stone she had the chance to get him to see reason. Even if she could not persuade him to relinquish his claim upon her, her solicitors would undoubtedly raise all sort of objections which could drag things on for weeks, months. Even years.

  With that promising thought, she reached for her writing desk and began to note down the most salient facts of the case, feeling more and more confident as she wrote. There had to be a way out of this dire muddle. There simply had to be. She didn't want a husband taking away all her freedom when she had just started spreading her wings.

  And while she could not fault Clifford Stone for looks or education, she had a feeling that becoming the wife of a debaucher such as she had heard him described would be to turn her world upside-down, and truly drive her to despair and madness.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Vanessa worked without pause for several minutes, jotting down her ideas as they came to her. Then she hastily dressed for dinner, and returned to her desk to write out a clean and coherent letter to Mason and Rogers.

  She had no idea how long she had been working when a knock at the door suddenly interrupted her flow of words. She put her pen down and quickly shoved the papers into the desk, wondering even as she did so why she was acting as if she had something to hide.

  At her command to enter, her half-brother poked his head around the door. He gave her his most winning smile. The rictus on his handsome, normally impassive face made him look like he was suffering from dyspepsia. "I had the feeling that you might still be upset about our conversation earlier. You know I never meant to cause you any pain."

  She gave Gerald a withering glance. "I find that hard to believe, given you gambled me away without thinking of the consequences of an enforced marriage."

  "Please, Vanessa. I know I've been weak and foolish. Rubbing my nose in it is not going to solve our predicament."

  "Your predicament, you mean," she said, smoothing down her newly donned frock, black velvet with a modest square-cut neckline and three-quarter length lacy sleeves.

  Gerald ground his teeth together audibly as he adjusted his black satin cravat. His green eyes hardened but he managed to put even more contrition into his tone and tried again.

  "I am sorry. I came up here to invite you to have a glass of sherry with me before dinner, so we could discuss things in perhaps a less heated fashion. We're having oysters tonight, your favorite."

  Vanessa bit back a sharp retort. She was not about to be mollified with a glass of two of wine and a good meal.

  At the same time though, he was her half-brother. She had to allay his suspicions while she came up with some sensible plan to avoid both marriage to the odious Clifford, and her family's ruin.

  She straightened her back and rose from the small upholstered bench. "Are our cousins still here?"

  Gerald started violently at the question. "Er, no, they were otherwise engaged."

  His sister gave him a cool look. "You mean you had words with Peter and he was disinclined to stay?"

  "More like I didn't invite him," Gerald admitted. "I have to confess he has been, well, encouraging me to gamble, and holds some of my vowels. He has made it clear that as a result of my windfall last night at the tables, he expects payment post-haste."

  Vanessa shook her head. "So much for fine family feeling. That is tantamount to kicking someone when they're down. I expected better of him."

  "He saw the pot last night. I can't really blame him."

  Vanessa fumed. "I can. Tell me how much he is asking for. I shall apply to the solicitors for relief at once. I wouldn't put it past him to declare he had the prior claim just to try to secure me for himself despite all that has happened with Clifford and the card game."

  "Does that mean you're less angry about that now?"

  She sighed. "Less shocked might be a more accurate description. But no, Brother, I am not furious with you any longer. There's no point in bemoaning my fate. You've made a mistake, but you're still my nearest blood kin. And blood is thicker than money so far as I'm concerned, though Peter and Toby would not appear to agree. Let's go have a glass of sherry together, by all means. I suddenly feel the need for one."

  She got to her feet abruptly and swept past him out of the chamber so quickly Gerald had to run to catch up.

  He dredged up a memory of his more polished Town manners and was charm itself as he led her downstairs into the dining room. The drafty, ill-heated room with its scarred furniture did nothing to improve her frame of mind. It was a sad contrast to the well-ordered and elegant dining room she had used daily for almost a decade down in Dorset.

  She tried not to look around at the gaps on the wall, where many of the family portraits had once hung. Willfully ignored the peeling burgundy wallpaper and marred, unpolished walnut table. Attempted not to notice the nicks in their crystal goblets or the fact that they were eating with mismatched third-best silver and china.

  So long as they did not talk of Clifford Stone, Vanessa was able to maintain her poise. Whenever Gerald tried to change the subject to her impending nuptials, she would shake her head and whisper, "Please, Gerald, not in front of the servants."

  Gerald relented, tugging at his cravat as though it were choking him. He gave her what he hoped was a sheepish look, and turned back to the matter at hand. Perhaps it would not be so bad. Marrying Vanessa to his neighbor had seemed a terrible misfortune last evening, when his plans with his associates had gone awry thanks to Clifford's meddling and Malcolm Branson's insistence upon fair play.

  Yet now he not only had the money from the card game, but the chance of infinitely more if he just paused to consider this new set of developments in a more rational manner. After all, the Stone estate was prodigiously fine.

  But Gerald was not noted for his patience. Was it possible just to make the most of what had fallen into his lap? He certainly didn't like Vanessa's plans for him one jot. To sign Hawkesworth House over to her? To live upon an allowance like some poor relation? That was not for him.

  However, those were her conditions for the marriage. There had to be some sort of loophole. That was it. Between that and his other schemes, he could have his cake and--

  "Gerald! I said, I want to see Mr. Stone in the morning. Will you accompany me in the carriage or not?"

  Perspiration beaded his brow and fiddled anxiously in his pocket, as nervy as a hare confronted by a pack of hounds. "Whatever for? I have told you, he is adamant that the wedding take place as soon as possible."

  She set down her fork and knife carefully. "I believe that given the extent of my objections, and the force of public opinion as to the questionable nature of our so-called engagement, he might be willing to listen to reason. Or at the very least arrange sensible terms for re-payment so the bank will not foreclose on the estate."

  Gerald began to grow desperate at her meddling. He squeezed the vial in his pocket so hard it almost cracked. He forced his tone to remain even. "Very well, Sister. Whatever you think. We shall go tomorrow after breakfast. I shall be only too pleased to try to smooth things over as best I can. Now, if you are quite done with your meal, can we withdraw to the parlor for coffee?"

  Vanessa had hoped for dessert, but in v
iew of her brother's being so obliging regarding paying Clifford a visit, she rose from her chair and took his proffered arm.

  She was slightly surprised when Gerald insisted on pouring for her. He waved her objections away by declaring, "I am accustomed to being alone, without the delights of female companionship.

  "Besides, I should like you to pick out a book for a few minutes of edifying reading. Now that you are back here and are to be living so close to me, I would appreciate any help you can give in improving my education. I'm afraid I was always an indifferent scholar, for all I went to Cambridge for several terms. You are so knowledgeable thanks to wonderful Aunt Agatha, it would be foolish of me to not avail myself of all you have to offer."