The Wolfe Wager

by Jo Ann Ferguson

  His scowl disappeared. Limping toward her, he said, “Vanessa—my lady—you must stay and allow me to apologize for—”

  “Mr. Swinton, I have no time to listen to all the apologies you owe me and my friends.”

  When she raised her whip, he cried, “You aren’t going to leave me here, are you?”

  She smiled icily. “You are only a short distance from your house, Mr. Swinton. I trust even a singleton like you can find your way back.”

  “I’m hurt.” He pulled another briar from his buckskins.

  “By my words, Mr. Swinton?” She widened her eyes and raised her chin. “You should recall your own words that words can’t harm you. Only stones and sticks.” Touching her whip to her horse’s flank, she added, “I bid you adieu.”

  Chapter Ten

  No letters waited for Vanessa among the stack of invitations when she returned to Grosvenor Square. Tears threatened to betray her silly hopes that she would arrive home to find the answer to seeking Corey, but she refused to let Aunt Carolyn see them. She did not wish to suffer another chastisement. Vanessa had endured enough of a scold during the carriage ride back to Town.

  Eveline had not gloated over being correct about Mr. Swinton’s intentions. Like Vanessa, she had sat in silence while Aunt Carolyn reprimanded her niece for her quick words that had cost her another suitor. Only when they were behind the closed doors of Vanessa’s bedchamber with Leale down in the kitchen catching up on the gossip with the other servants did Eveline reveal her true feelings.

  “Vanessa,” she said, sitting in a chair by the window with a glorious view of the Square, “I do not fault you for putting the high and mighty Mr. Swinton aside. I think you were wise to see him as the cur he truly is.”

  “Don’t you mean finally?”

  “As long as you saw the truth before you buckled your heart to him, it matters little. And,” she said, her green eyes twinkling merrily as she held a piece of paper over her heart, “I am glad to be back in Town.”

  “I’m not,” she said as she put Corey’s letter in the small box in the lowest drawer. She straightened and laughed. “I suspect, by this time, Aunt Carolyn has already set her sights on another man who will be ‘perfect’ for me and Wolfe Abbey.” Going to the window, she looked out at the carriages driving around the Square. “I wonder which addle cove I shall have to deal with next.”

  Eveline grabbed her hand. “Forget that.”

  “I would love to, but Aunt Carolyn shall not.”

  “Vanessa, you are going to down-pin me, too, if you keep on. Listen to this. Even before I had a chance to let Lord Greybrooke know I was your guest, he has sent me a note. He would like to invite all of us to accompany him to the theater tomorrow evening. Do say you will come, Vanessa.”

  “How could I say no?” she asked, although she had looked forward to several quiet evenings of writing letters. She felt no more than a twinge of remorse at disobeying her aunt and continuing her search for Corey. Aunt Carolyn would forgive her when Corey was home. And she owed Eveline this favor, for her friend was unswervingly loyal, even when Vanessa was in the depths of her melancholy. After all, it was senseless for both of them to be miserable. “Of course, you must ask Aunt Carolyn. She may have planned something else.”

  “I have already asked her.” She laughed at Vanessa’s amazement. “It seems Captain Hudson already had proposed a similar outing to her. I wonder how long it will be before he proposes something else. Not long, I wager.”

  “Nor do I,” Vanessa said as she sat on the edge of her bed. “Aunt Carolyn has been so anxious to have a betrothal party here. Wouldn’t it be amusing if it was her own?”

  “Better than if it was yours?”

  She laughed. “Unless I find someone who is more interested in me than my father’s fortune, I think I shall dance at Aunt Carolyn’s betrothal party before my own.”

  Lord Greybrooke was nothing as Vanessa had feared. His smile was not dimmed by signs of dissipation, warning that his reputation was so sullied that his attentions were unwelcome by any decent woman. Nor was he bracket-faced or as round as a pig. His tongue was not sharp with acrimony. In every facet, he appeared to be a charming gentleman, who was willing to overlook Eveline’s family’s shame. His black hair was thinning, but his face was unlined. Dressed elegantly in a navy coat over his white waistcoat and black breeches, he offered Eveline a well-spoken compliment as he greeted her in the foyer.

  As he should, Vanessa decided, for her friend was the epitome of grace and beauty in the incredibly lovely dress Madame deBerg had finished only a few hours before. Gold lamé flashed along the hem as she turned to introduce the earl to Aunt Carolyn. Ribbons of the same brilliant shade were woven through the long sleeves of white crepe and along the curved neckline of the high bodice. A hint of her ribbed stockings was revealed as she stepped back to let Lord Greybrooke bow over Lady Mansfield’s hand.

  “And my dearest bosom-bow,” Eveline said as she gestured for Vanessa to join them. “Lord Greybrooke, this is Lady Vanessa Wolfe.”

  “This is a long overdue pleasure,” Vanessa remarked, noting how the earl held her hand only for the briefest moment. He clearly could not wait to return his gaze to Eveline. For the first time, Vanessa considered how wonderful it would be to have someone that devoted to her. She shoved that thought out of her head. She had someone to devote herself to now. Until her brother was safely home, she must think only of him.

  Aunt Carolyn left Eveline to talk to the earl while she came to fuss at her niece. She straightened Vanessa’s white lace gown. It was pulled back to expose her rose satin slip. Pleats dropped from the high waist to the base of the skirt, which was ringed with silk flowers matching the ones on her full-brimmed bonnet. It was her very best dress, and Aunt Carolyn had insisted that Vanessa wear it this evening, although Vanessa had no idea why.

  “What do you think of the earl?” Aunt Carolyn asked softly.

  “He seems a fine gentleman.”

  “I agree.” She sighed, and Vanessa needed no key to unlock her aunt’s thoughts. Aunt Carolyn could not understand how her niece, who possessed both wealth and an immaculate reputation, could not find such a suitable match when Eveline had with ease.

  When Captain Hudson was ushered into the foyer by a stone-faced Quigley, Aunt Carolyn brightened. Again the captain wore his military uniform, and, as they walked to the open carriage parked in front of the house, he told them he had spent the day with his superiors at the ministry.

  Vanessa said nothing as the others chatted amiably. So fervently she wished she could ask Captain Hudson to help her in her search, but he would mention her request to her aunt. She must find another way.

  The street in front of the Theater Royal on Bow Street was jammed with carriages and urchins, who were eager to run errands or do a trick for a farthing or two. Vanessa thanked Lord Greybrooke as he assisted her from the carriage. She stood aside to let him offer his arm to Eveline. A sad smile pulled at Vanessa’s lips as she walked behind the two couples up the few steps to the portico beneath the tall columns. The unfamiliar stab of envy pricked her again. Trying to ignore it was futile. She would have delighted in having a gentleman regard her with the adoration enjoyed by her aunt and Eveline, but she had not met the right man yet. Maybe Leale was right. Maybe the man of her dreams could never exist.

  The foyer of the theater was as crowded as the street, and heavy clouds of perfume threatened to strangle Vanessa. She glanced toward the elegant staircase to one side, but it was overrun with people. There was no choice but to struggle every inch to the box Lord Greybrooke had engaged halfway up the five tiers above the floor of the theater.

  An elbow jabbed her arm. Vanessa glared at it, then raised her eyes to the face above. Lord Brickendon! She snapped her fan open to conceal her astonishment … and her admiration of how his black coat accented his lean strength.

  “My lady, excuse me,” he said with a polite smile. “I fear we are fated continually to come flush o
n each other. I trust you have recovered from your taxing ordeal at Swinton Park.”

  Vanessa had no intention of speaking of her bruises, which were in locations she could not discuss in public. “I am fine. And you?”

  He bent toward her and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “I landed on something softer than the earth.”

  She pressed her fan to her lips to silence her gasp at his forward words. She should be scandalized. She should ask him to leave and not to embarrass her again. She should have, but she began to smile. Lord Brickendon was never dull like the other men she had met; it was seldom she guessed what he might say or do. He was a scoundrel, but an intriguing one.

  “It is a surprise,” she said, “to see you back in Town so soon. Is the gathering over already?”

  “I found Swinton’s company distasteful.” His grin became roguish. “Nearly as distasteful as that bully fop’s constant gripping about landing in that hedgerow. He was still pulling sticks out of his hair when he returned to the house.”

  She laughed, although she knew she would not. Lord Brickendon’s words resurrected the image of the outraged redhead firing furious words at her. Her amusement faded when the memory of his attempt to kiss her leapt to life. Softly, she said, “Mr. Swinton might have been better off if the switch had been applied years ago instead of during that ride.”

  “I can’t help but be distressed at your cavalier disregard of my friends’ hearts. I believe both Franklin and Swinton held a deep and sincere tendre for you.”

  “I fear you stretch the truth, my lord.”

  “Mayhap.” He chuckled, his dark eyes twinkling with merry mischief. “I have to own that Swinton’s only anxiety was if he would be able to win your fortune, but Sir Wilbur was unquestionably smitten by your feminine charms.”

  Vanessa was glad the brim of her bonnet could shadow her face from the viscount’s intense gaze. Looking at a bone button at the top of his waistcoat, she said, “I regret causing the baronet any distress. However, even you must own, that to let him assume I had a fondness for him that did not, in truth, exist, would be more cruel than confronting him with the truth.”

  “Can it be that you have a gentle heart within you?”

  “What a bizarre question!” she exclaimed, meeting his eyes. She wished she had not when she saw more amusement amid their ebony sparks. Taking a deep breath to steady her voice, which was too agitated, she said, “I can assure you, my lord, that I have a heart within my breast. That I choose not to give it to any of the men who have tried to win it does nothing to deny its existence.”

  He tilted his head to her. “I stand corrected. I should have guessed as much when I saw your resolve that each small duckling was given a bit of bread. Swinton would have been wise to chirp piteously to gain your attention.”

  Vanessa laughed with him. When she noticed the eager eyes watching them, she silenced herself. Enough tongues had wagged at her expense in the past fortnight. She did not need to give them more to chew about.

  “Such a happy sound!” Aunt Carolyn offered her hand to Lord Brickendon and smiled as he bowed over it smoothly. “I am delighted that you have brought even a smile to Vanessa, my lord. She has been morose since our return from Swinton Park.”

  “She need worry herself no more,” he answered, “for I can assure both of you that Mr. Swinton has made the most of his invisible injuries to obtain sympathy wherever he goes. I am sure that will ease your worries on his account, my lady.”

  He caught Vanessa’s eyes before she could turn away. The good humor had vanished into their dark depths, and she could not guess what strong emotion glittered in them. She was relieved when Aunt Carolyn introduced the viscount to Lord Greybrooke. The formalities allowed her time to patch together her ragged poise. Lord Brickendon greeted Eveline as politely as he did the others, and Vanessa found herself relaxing. She had not realized until now that it was so important for her bosom-bow to be accepted by the viscount after Mr. Swinton’s cruel comments.

  “Do join us, my lord. Lord Greybrooke has taken a box, which will have room for another. We would enjoy your company.” Carolyn turned to Vanessa. “Isn’t that right, my dear?”

  “Of course, we would be delighted to have you join us,” Vanessa said automatically. Amazement spread through her as she discovered she spoke the truth. Unlike his friends, whom she had been eager to dismiss as swiftly as possible, Vanessa relished conversing with Lord Brickendon. Each time she encountered him was like a duel between respected, well-armed opponents. Using words to parry, a sharp barb here, a honed rejoinder there, gave her more enjoyment than anything had since her brother’s departure and her father’s death.

  “How could I say no to such a generous invitation?” He offered his arm to Aunt Carolyn. “If I may be so bold …”

  Vanessa found herself walking with Captain Hudson as they followed her aunt and the viscount up the stairs. Behind them, Lord Greybrooke and Eveline chattered like two Indian monkeys. Aware once more of the curious eyes upon them, Vanessa smiled. Aunt Carolyn should be careful, or she would become the source of rumor for the gossipmongers, for she had come to the theater with one gentleman and was allowing a second to escort her to their box.

  “Your aunt is a wonderful woman,” said Captain Hudson in a low voice.

  “She would do anything to see those she loves happy.”

  “A grand tribute, which I had not expected from you.”

  Vanessa nearly paused on the steps, but the press of the crowd urged her forward. Looking at the blond man’s taut face, she asked, “Would you explain that comment, sir?”

  “Gladly, for I have no wish to see Carolyn miserable. She thinks only of your future.” He cleared his throat, then said, “She will give no consideration to her future until you are settled.”

  “I know.”

  “Yet you play a coquette’s game.”

  She shook her head, her voice as strained as his. “No, Captain, for that would break Aunt Carolyn’s heart. If you would give more than a moment’s thought to the situation, you would see that my aunt has no wish for me to wed unwisely.”

  Captain Hudson said nothing more as he held aside the curtain to allow her to enter the elegant box. The stiff line of his back signaled his vexation. Aunt Carolyn said she would return after speaking with Penelope Downing, who had taken a box only a short distance away. Vanessa took her seat behind Eveline and looked across the horseshoe shape of the theater. It was nearly full and more were crowding onto the floor and into the boxes.

  Even before the curtain in the doorway had dropped back into place, Captain Hudson broke his silence to say, “If you will excuse me, ladies, gentlemen.”

  “Quite the transparent chap, isn’t he?” Lord Brickendon leaned back in his chair opposite Vanessa’s and chuckled. “He would be wise to give your aunt a bit of breathing room instead of chasing after her with such candid fervor. Your aunt does not seem the type of woman to dote on the chase.”

  Vanessa waved her fan. It was even more stuffy than the last time she and Aunt Carolyn had come to the crammed theater. “You fancy yourself an expert on women, my lord?”

  “Hardly.” He laughed again. “The man who thinks he knows everything about women is the greatest Tom-doodle of us all.”

  “So what have you learned?”

  “Little, but I own that I have given it only a scant portion of my time. I prefer sport where I know I can be the victor. The flirtations of the ton are set so a man loses his freedom and ends up with a wife and a family.”

  Vanessa doubted if Eveline and the earl, who were holding hands, had heard Lord Brickendon’s cynical words. Even if they had taken note of them, they would have given them little credence as they laughed together, pausing only when the box attendant brought cooled wine.

  “I agree.” When she saw his surprise, she asked, “Why are you startled?”

  “I have never heard such talk from anyone among the élite.” He bent toward her, his hand resting on the back of her
chair. “Such sacrilege! The patronesses at Almack’s shall oust you if they hear such words.”

  “I doubt if I could change their minds on this matter.”

  “Do you?”

  Vanessa did not answer as she looked into his eyes which held such mysteries, yet portrayed his potent passions on every turn. In her lap, her fingers tingled, longing to touch the line of his jaw to discover if it was as unyielding as it appeared. The twists of black hair on his brow teased her to brush them back into place. She knew nothing of Lord Brickendon, but she began to believe that she wanted to learn, no matter how long such a study would take.

  His hand grazed her shoulder, daringly stroking her bare skin. When his finger traced the line of her bonnet’s ribbons from the curve of her chin to the sensitive silkiness behind her right ear, her lips parted with a soft sigh of indescribable delight.

  In a husky whisper, he said, “You could make a man change his mind about many things.” His hand slipped behind her nape to tilt her toward him.

  Her eyes searched his face. The stern lines had not softened, but the corners of his mouth tilted in a smile as his gaze caressed her face. With her heart pounding so fiercely she was sure he must hear it, her fingers rose to his wide shoulders.

  Vanessa was jerked back to her senses by Eveline’s laughter with her beau. Sitting straighter, she folded her hands in her lap. She avoided looking at Lord Brickendon because she did not want him to see her reddened face. One moment, she had been espousing her determination to keep her life from romantic entanglements. The next, she was letting him seduce her with sweet words and sweeter caresses.

  She gasped when he put his finger under her chin and turned her face toward him. “My lord, please do not—”

  “Say no more,” he said with more equanimity than she possessed. “Shall we speak of other matters?”

  “Yes,” she breathed. She clutched onto the word as a safety line to pull her back from her own foolishness.