I understand he is expected to recover fully, but as lam not allowed communication with that household, I must rely on hearsay to fathom events about the latest scandal. My own situation remains unchanged, regrettably.
Faithfully yours,
Aubrey
Vanessa closed her eyes, trying to shut out the unsettling image of Damien lying wounded. She’d endured nightmares over it, even after receiving Aubrey’s second note saying that Sinclair was indeed convalescing better than anticipated.
She couldn’t recover so easily from her own hidden wounds. Her love for Damien was a pain she couldn’t seem to conquer. Leaving him was the hardest step she had ever taken.
She would never again look at a rose without thinking of him, without her heart aching from a haunting sense of loss-
“The post has come,” her sister Charlotte said, interrupting her misery.
A maidservant entered the morning room a moment later and curtsied before Vanessa. “A letter for you, milady.”
“Thank you.”
Her heart twisted when she saw the Sinclair frank, but she recognized Olivia’s hand. With trepidation Vanessa broke the seal. The message was hastily written, with ink blotches and exclamation points and crossed lines that were difficult to decipher.
Dear, dear Vanessa,
You will never credit it! Damien has relented! He has given his permission for us to wed!! He says he only wants my happiness, and oh, I am the happiest of creatures!!! I will now be able to call you sister. Perhaps you can guess at my state of agitation and exhilaration. I can scarcely hold the pen, my hand is shaking so. It was you, my dearest Vanessa, who brought about my brother’s remarkable change of mind, I have no doubt. Damien has always put great store in whatever you say.
The details are still to be settled upon-where and when the wedding will be held, and where we are to reside-but I hope it will be before winter, and that I might be welcome at Rutherford Hall. Will your mother be put out by becoming the Dowager Viscountess, do you think? I cannot wait!! I cannot begin to express my joy at the prospect of becoming Aubrey’s wife!! I must thank you, dearest Vanessa, for helping to bring it all about-
“What is it, Vanessa?” Charlotte asked with a perceptiveness that was lacking in their younger sister or mother. “Not bad news, I hope.”
Still a little stunned, Vanessa looked up. She had never expected Damien to relent, certainly not so quickly… “No… not bad, indeed it is excellent news. Aubrey is to marry Olivia Sinclair.”
“Oh, famous!” Fanny exclaimed.
Their mother, Grace, sat up from her reclining position on the couch. “Aubrey to be married? I was not aware he even knew the girl. Why was I not told he was courting her?”
“I’m certain he didn’t wish to worry you, Mama,” Charlotte answered soothingly, “or raise our hopes unnecessarily. But it would be a most splendid match for him. You remember Miss Sinclair. Vanessa told us all about her in her letters…”
Vanessa was grateful to her sister for taking responsibility for the conversation and putting their mother’s mind at ease. At the moment, she could not have managed it.
It was some time before she could escape her family for the privacy of her own bedchamber, and even then her emotions were in a state of turmoil. She couldn’t help but feel Olivia’s joy. Nor could she help but wonder what had caused Damien’s radical about-face. Had she truly been instrumental in persuading him to allow the marriage? Had he actually taken any of her admonitions to heart?
No, it was foolish to read too much into his singular actions. Fiercely Vanessa steeled herself against the surge of hope welling inside her. Simply because Damien had relented over the issue of his sister’s marriage to Aubrey didn’t mean anything had changed between them. He didn’t love her; that was the bitter truth.
Leaving him had been her only course. Even a life without him was preferable to the anguish she would have endured had she agreed to a loveless union.
Her throat constricted as despair returned to deaden her heart.
For the next several weeks Vanessa managed to go through the motions of living, but she showed so little enthusiasm, even her mother wondered if she was coming down with an ailment.
In the interval she had regular reports from Olivia regarding plans for the wedding. The banns had been read for the first time in church. The ceremony would take place in Alcester in early November. Meanwhile, in September Damien planned to take her to London to choose wedding clothes. And Olivia was ecstatically happy.
It was Aubrey’s next letter that startled and astonished Vanessa as much as Olivia’s first missive had.
My dearest sister, you will never credit what Sinclair has done. You will not be surprised, of course, that he restored the vowels I lost to him at cards. Relinquishing his claim to our family estates was only fitting, since you earned them fairly with your services to his sister.
And naturally he would not wish Olivia to live as a pauper.
But he has gone far beyond the dictates of a brother-in-law’s duties. He asked for an accounting of my outstanding gambling debts and tradesmen’s bills and paid them in total. I intend to reimburse every penny out of my secretary’s salary, but I don’t see how I can repay his further generosity. Incredibly, he has dowered our sisters! And with no small sum, either.
You cannot know how greatly that relieves my mind, to have Charlotte and Fanny well provided for. As I’m certain it relieves yours. Imagine, Vanessa, with ten thousand pounds each they can now marry whomever they choose.
I take back every ill word I ever spoke about Lord Sinclair. He has given me a second chance to prove myself, and I vow to do my utmost to live up to his expectations.
Frankly, his behavior is a marvel I cannot explain. Not even by a word did he threaten me regarding Olivia’s welfare this time (although he would doubtless put a bullet through me if I harmed another single hair on her head). Pride makes me reluctant to accept his charity, but I feel I cannot refuse for our sisters’ sake, and for Olivia’s as well. I love her so much, Vanessa…
Vanessa could only stare at the letter in wonder and amazement. Ten thousand pounds each for her sisters? Aubrey’s debts wiped clean? Whatever was Damien thinking? He had settled her brother’s gambling debts and provided for her family’s financial security-and eased the burden that had weighed so heavily on her shoulders ever since her father’s passing.
Once more the fledgling spark of hope kindled in Vanessa’s heart, but this time it was harder to repress.
In the following days there was more happy news coming from Warwickshire. Olivia had begun to make breakthrough progress in her recovery, regaining a great deal of sensation in her lower limbs. And while she could not yet walk, the doctor believed that with continued treatments of therapeutic massages and baths, she might be able to stand on her own two feet for her wedding.
Each day I grow a little stronger, and I may accept your invitation to visit sooner than you think. If I suffer no ill effects from the journey to London next week, Aubrey has promised to bring me to Rutherford Hall the following month, so that I may meet your mother and sisters before the wedding. I cannot wait, dearest Vanessa…
By all reports the shopping excursion to London was a grand success. Olivia’s letters were almost effervescent in their joy. The Little Season had begun, and with Aubrey escorting her to an occasional ball or evening party, she was finding her introduction to society far more agreeable than anticipated, possibly, she admitted, because she was very much in love with the most wonderful man in the world.
Each time Olivia made mention of her brother, though, Vanessa felt her heart wrench. She could not fathom the change that apparently had come over Damien. He no longer even seemed the same man she knew, an aimless rakehell whose only goal in life was the search for pleasure. Olivia’s last letter from London held the biggest surprise of all.
Aubrey accompanied me the past few mornings to Oxford Street and the bazaar at Exeter Change, for Damien was oc
cupied much of the time-you will never believe where. Whitehall, of all places! He’s accepted a post advising the Chancellor of the Exchequer on governmental financial affairs, which, considering Damien’s Midas touch, should prove extremely advantageous to the national Treasury.
Moreover, he plans to assume his seat in the House of Lords when Parliament convenes in January. He and Mr. Haskell (his secretary) have spent several evenings debating and discussing potential speeches. It is all politics, which I find a bit confusing (and rather dull, I confess), but there are several issues that arouse Damien’s interest. In fact, he intends to stay in London when Aubrey and I return to Warwickshire tomorrow. Damien says he is a natural Whig, which Aubrey tells me is the party of reformists and rabble-rousers. But since Aubrey is a Tory, then, as his wife, I will be a Tory as well.
His wife. Those are quite the most beautiful words in the English language! You must faithfully promise to attend the wedding as my bridesmaid, Vanessa…
Vanessa viewed that last request with trepidation. She had mixed feelings about returning to Rosewood. On the one hand, she couldn’t imagine missing her only brother’s wedding. On the other, she wasn’t certain she could bear to see Damien again, to endure his nearness and be reminded so painfully of what she could never have.
Two days later she received another letter that puzzled more than surprised her. It was from George Haskell, Damien’s private secretary.
Dear Madam:
I am writing you on behalf of Baron Sinclair to request an interview with you a fortnight hence. Lord Sinclair’s solicitor, Mr. Naysmith, will travel to Kent the first week in October and will call upon you at your convenience. If you find this acceptable, would you be so kind as to designate a particular date and time?
Your obedient servant,
George Haskell.
She couldn’t imagine why Damien would send his solicitor to see her, but she responded politely to Mr. Haskell’s letter, agreeing to ten o’clock on October third for an appointment.
When the day came, Vanessa made certain her sisters were out riding and her mother was resting comfortably in her rooms. Then she settled with a book in the study, where she planned to receive Mr. Naysmith.
The solicitor was prompt to the minute, and courteous almost to a fault. As soon as he was seated, he quickly came to the point of his visit.
“I wish to make you aware of certain arrangements I have executed on your behalf, Lady Wyndham. Lord Sinclair has deeded a substantial fortune to you, along with a large manor house in Kent, close to London. The house is situated on a prime piece of property and is fully staffed, with a park that is quite agreeable.”
Vanessa stared at him, wondering if Damien had dared charge his solicitor with setting her up permanently as his mistress. “I… am afraid I don’t understand,” she managed to say evenly, despite her welling ire.
“His lordship thought you might wish to have your own household once your brother’s bride becomes mistress of his estates, but that you might prefer to be near your family. Thus the location in Kent. As I mentioned, it is in close proximity to London as well. The stables are not yet stocked, but he was of the opinion you would prefer to choose your own mounts and carriage horses-”
“Mr. Naysmith,” Vanessa interrupted with impatience, “I have not yet considered where I wish to live once Miss Sinclair becomes mistress here, but that is hardly any of Lord Sinclair’s concern. And it certainly fails to explain the reason for his… generosity.”
The solicitor nodded solemnly. “To put the matter delicately, my lady, he wished you to be financially independent so that you might be free to choose your own future-particularly whether or not to wed again.”
Vanessa’s shocked silence lasted a full minute.
When she made no reply, the solicitor explained in more detail. “The legal arrangements are slightly unusual, but not unheard of. Without dwelling overly much on the particulars, let me assure you that the sum in question is tied up so that any future husband of yours cannot control it, as is standard under English law. The majority of the principal, some two hundred thousand pounds, will remain in trust for any heirs-children-you might have, with a substantial quarterly interest paid directly to you. In short, my lady, you are a wealthy woman.”
Withdrawing a sheaf of papers from his case, he handed it to a stunned Vanessa. “I anticipated that you might wish some time to digest this news and perhaps read these documents, my lady, and so I planned to remain in the district at least until the morrow. I shall be happy to return at a later time to discuss the arrangements further, if you like.”
“No…” Vanessa said absently. Under normal circumstances, any self-respecting woman would be insulted by such a blatant offer of money. But she was certain Damien hadn’t meant to insult her. Quite the contrary. “Thank you, but I don’t believe that will be necessary. Your explanations have been thorough enough.”
She did wish for privacy, however, and was glad when the solicitor shortly took his leave. She needed time to reflect on the bewildering turn of events.
If she understood correctly, she was now independently wealthy, completely free to make her own decisions about her future. Her fate was entirely hers to decide, unlike when Damien had obliged her to become his mistress, or when she had married a reckless rogue to satisfy her father’s debts.
Independence was Damien’s gift to her.
What did he mean by such generosity? Did he truly expect nothing in return? Did he know how much his gesture meant to her? Of course he did. He knew how vital independence was to her.
Absurdly Vanessa felt tears burn her eyes. She had to see him, to discover why he had given her such a precious gift. Was it due to guilt? Or because of some deeper, more profound reason, something closer to the heart?
Her sisters chose that moment to walk into the study, although she hadn’t even heard them come home.
When Fanny saw her, the girl stopped her chatter in midstream. “What has happened, Vanessa? Did that solicitor bring bad news?”
“No…”
“Then why ever are you crying?”
Swiftly Vanessa wiped away her tears. “I don’t know exactly. I suppose it’s because I am happy.” She stood up, clutching the sheaf of papers. “I must go to London at once.”
“Now? But Cook promised a chilled custard pudding for luncheon.”
Vanessa forced a smile. “You may have my portion, Fanny. I don’t believe I could eat a bite.”
Once again Vanessa found herself ascending the front steps of Lord Sin’s London mansion, completely disregarding the impropriety of calling alone at a gentleman’s residence. Yet after all that had happened between them, a touch more scandalous conduct would hardly register on the scales.
She wondered if she would find Damien at home. It was nearly six o’clock, too early for him to have gone out for the evening. If he had not yet returned, she was resolved to wait for him forever, if necessary.
She was greeted by the same stately majordomo as before and informed that, yes, his lordship was indeed in. Her heart beating erratically, she stepped inside and was unexpectedly surrounded by the fragrant scent of roses. Vanessa stared in puzzlement, certain the large pots of white and crimson blooms ornamenting the entryway hadn’t been there on her first visit. Had Damien sent for them from his conservatories at Rosewood? She’d thought he wouldn’t want to be reminded of his life there.
Assailed by bittersweet memories, she followed the servant to a salon, whose lamps had been lit against the deepening autumn twilight. The beautiful room boasted a gilded ceiling and a cheerily burning fire. Gratefully Vanessa moved to stand before the hearth, holding out her chilled hands to the flames. She wasn’t surprised to find herself trembling-a condition that only grew worse as the interminable moments drew out.
She sensed his presence before he spoke her name.
“Vanessa…” The low murmur made her heart leap.
She turned around slowly, scarcely daring to breathe. Dam
ien stood just inside the room, watching her, completely still, as if he, too, feared risking a breath.
Her heart jolting in her chest, she drank in the sight of his beautiful face. It was their first meeting since the duel, and although she searched, she could see little outward indication of his injury-except that he looked thinner and a shade paler, and perhaps he held his left arm a bit stiffly. His eyes, however, were wary, intense.
“Why?” she said simply.
He gave a shrug of his elegant shoulders. “I wanted to give you the choices you said you never had.”
A frown darkened her brow. “The freedom to wed anyone I choose, your solicitor said. You realize I could choose someone other than yourself? You are willing for me to wed elsewhere?”
“Yes.” His voice was the husk of a whisper. “If that is what you truly want.” His mouth twisted in a joyless smile. “Of course, I would far rather it be me.”
“And in return for your generosity… what do you want from me, Damien?”
His troubled gaze was as gray as an ocean and just as fathomless. “Salvation. Merely that.” Again that painful, fleeting smile. “I know it is a great deal to ask.”
He moved farther into the room, halting a few steps from her. “I have countless regrets about my life, Vanessa, and the greatest by far is my treatment of you. But I profoundly believe I’ve learned from my mistakes. A man can reform, given sufficient reason. Your brother taught me that. I’ve never before had a reason to change, until you.”
Vanessa felt her throat constrict. “Aubrey said much the same thing about Olivia.”
“He and I have more in common than I like to admit.”
A long tormenting moment of irresolution passed.
“I’ve vowed to try, Vanessa. You couldn’t love the man I was, so I intend to become a different man, someone worthy of you.”
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