In the tiny moment while Rufus sipped his port, awaiting her answer, she recalled the reason why she must not give in to Vaughn: her son Raymond. This man sitting in front of her had given her the only hope of ever having Raymond back in her life. He’d been paying independent investigators to search for her son.
If she were to cuckold him then Raymond would be utterly lost to her. She could not give in. It was as simple as that.
On the odd occasion where he was agreeable enough to share details on the progress the agents were making, he would explain they were working tirelessly, but the family who originally received the caring of the boy had passed him on and the trail was quite cold and difficult to follow. However, he would assure her with a pat to her knee, the agents he employed had excellent reputations and he would say, “Be patient, dear.”
And so she had continued to be patient.
She studied Rufus now. Was he in the frame of mind to indulge her yet again on the subject? His mention of sharing the night with her and the marketing expedition yesterday boded well, for they hinted that some of his good humor might be returning. When Rufus had first come into her life she had thought he held a genuine fondness for her, hidden deep where no one could spot his weakness. Since Vaughn had arrived, that doting manner had completely disappeared.
Elisa felt her chest tighten with a rush of fear mixed with astonishment, as she considered this aspect of matters at Farleigh Hall. The shooting of the horse, the snarling belligerence; it was almost like a dog barring its teeth. Scaring off competitors.
Guarding its bone.
Had she underestimated the degree of feeling Rufus held for her? His courtship had been as rough as his manners, but even though he had not arrived bearing baubles and flowers, he had brought with him a greater gift that won him her hand: the promise to find Raymond.
She cleared her throat. “What ails me is the absence of my son. I…miss Raymond. I desperately want to see my little boy again.”
He looked surprised and put his drink down on a nearby table and sat back in the chair, his paunch stressing the buttons on his waistcoat. “I have men working on it as we speak. You know that if I heard anything, I would tell you.”
Tears welled in Elisa’s eyes. Her whole world seemed hopeless at the moment. The only thing that would set it right would be Raymond. His presence would save her from depravity, she knew.
“If you could only give me a little more encouragement,” she murmured, looking down at her lap. “I would feel better…stronger, if only I knew it would not be much longer to wait.”
It was as close as she dared come to speaking the truth aloud. If he could show her a possible end to the waiting, then she would find the strength to hold out against Vaughn’s enticing ways.
Rufus’ eyes narrowed and a shrewd gleam came into them. “Is that so?” he remarked casually.
Her heart beat a little harder. Had he guessed her thoughts?
“If it will make you happy, I will visit with my London solicitor. The agents report to him and in truth, it has been a week or so since I inquired as to their progress. I will get a new report for you. How would that be?”
It was said with the casualness of a man discussing a report on fatted calves for market. But he had made the offer. It was a victory of sorts.
“I appreciate anything you can do,” she told him truthfully. “I feel such a void without him.”
Rufus flinched as though struck. “Do you doubt I could give you a good life?”
“That was not my meaning,” she replied, digging her nails into her palms. “I am his mother and I need him, just as I’m certain he needs me.”
“We will see what we can do.” Rufus lifted the bell and rang it, signaling the end of the discussion.
Joshua stepped inside the room a moment later. “The carriage is ready, my lord.”
“You are going somewhere?” Elisa asked, keeping the hope from her voice.
Rufus stood and with a smile, replied, “We’re going to the Munroe’s soiree.” His tone indicated that he was stating the obvious.
Elisa’s heart pounded. “But…that isn’t until tomorrow evening.”
“We were invited to stay the night, remember?”
Elisa flinched at the tone of his voice. Of course she could not remember. She’d not had a chance to read the invitation before Rufus had all but snatched it out of her hand.
Rufus extended his arm. “Come, my dear. We don’t want to keep them waiting.”
It was too soon. She wasn’t prepared.
“My clothes…a gown…”
“All packed, my dear. I had Marianne see to it yesterday. The ball gown was delivered early this morning, just in time.”
Her heart began to beat hard and fear touched her. She had felt all along that Rufus was planning something. Now her guess was confirmed, but she still did not know what he planned.
She touched the low bodice of her gown. “I must change first,” she began. Although the gown was not particularly revealing, for her first public appearance in many years, she knew she must be the absolute model of propriety.
“No, there is no time,” Rufus told her. “What is it, woman? Do you seek to make us arrive late? I won’t have you make a fool of me, you know.”
She swallowed. “Yes, Rufus.” She took his offered arm and let him lead her out to the carriage.
Where was Vaughn? She could not help but wish he was here in the carriage with her, for she knew he would stand between her and whatever the consequences of Rufus’ scheming.
* * * * *
That night was torturous.
To begin her woes, she and Rufus were placed in connecting chambers, as though they were already husband and wife. She wished he were not so close.
One other couple had arrived that night beside themselves and it appeared no more were expected. Elisa hid her dismay when this fact was made clear to her by the number of places at the dining table. It meant Vaughn would not be nearby—she would have to deal with Rufus and his schemes all by herself.
In addition, the couple who had arrived just that afternoon were the Duke and Duchess of Wessex. The Duchess was Lady Cynthia Crowley and until her marriage she had lived in the same county as Elisa’s family.
Elisa recognized the redheaded woman with a sinking heart. There was little chance Cynthia did not know about Elisa’s tarnished past. Elisa’s own family had disowned her after her husband’s death and would have taken great pains to let the district know they had no association with her erring ways.
Cynthia Crowley nodded her head when the introductions were made, her face neutral. But then she started and stared at Elisa with a measuring eye.
The Duke had been delightful. He had obviously married late in life, for he was much older than his wife, quite silver-haired and with a dashing monocle. He treated Elisa with an old-fashioned courtliness that took the edge off Cynthia’s disdain.
But partway through the pre-dinner drinks, Elisa saw the duchess lean towards her husband and whisper behind her fan. The Duke’s monocle dropped and he fumbled to return it to his eye as he tried to examine Elisa without appearing to stare.
Elisa’s heart sank slowly lower and lower as throughout the meal the Duke and duchess snubbed her repeatedly—failing to hear her requests for condiments to be passed to her and when their gaze wandered around the room, they would pass over her like she was not there.
Elisa sat wringing her napkin under the table, fighting tears. Because their station in life was higher than Elisa’s, it was her place to leave the room and the party, as they had made it clear she was not welcome there. But she could not leave unless Rufus made their excuses and he seemed to be completely oblivious to the unspoken disapproval settling around the table.
Caroline appeared to feel the tension, but as she had no idea about Elisa’s past, she could not possibly understand its source. She tried to lighten the atmosphere with gay chatter, with her husband William supporting her.
Rufus
was not a conversationalist at all. He ate hungrily and steadily, with a positively cheerful air. If Elisa had been calmer, she would have said he was enjoying her discomfort. But that notion was a product of her upset.
She was never more grateful for a meal to come to an end as she was when William stood, proposing brandy and cigars in the library for the gentlemen and the Duke agreed with alacrity.
That was the moment Elisa had excused herself and went immediately to her room.
She lay tossing and turning in her strange and uncomfortable bed, reacquainting herself over and over again with the fact of her blighted past. It was not going to go away. Time would not obliterate her reputation, however false it was. She could only hope upon the morrow that she could find the company of guests who were ignorant of the rumors—people who saw beyond the whispers and the falsehoods.
Abruptly, she yearned for Vaughn’s company.
She curled up in the bed, hugging herself, wishing mightily he would appear suddenly and take her in his arms. He would provide the comfort she longed for…
She must remember Raymond. The comfort she wished to convince herself she would find in Vaughn was a momentary one only. The consequences of giving in to him were not worth the price, no matter how much she craved the luxury.
She had to go through this alone.
A solitary, bitter tear splattered her starched pillow.
* * * * *
Her wish that she could meld into a number of guests and effectively disappear from general notice was a fool’s hope, as she quickly discovered the next day.
Elisa sat at a table with five other women of varying ages, sipping tea, playing cards and trying to pretend they were not snubbing her. Caroline was too caught up playing hostess to give her any mind and Natasha kept watching the door, no doubt hoping to catch Vaughn the moment he walked into the manor.
How Elisa wished she could allow herself the same distraction!
As Natasha’s attention was called back to her hand yet again, Caroline smiled indulgently.
“Natasha can hardly wait to visit her aunt in London. We’re hoping Lord Vaughn will be gracious enough to escort her.”
All eyes turned to Elisa. Obviously they waited for her to express her enthusiasm at the idea.
She swallowed.
Natasha was watching her without blinking, her expression hopeful.
“Vaughn is his own man, I am afraid. He does not share his agenda with me.”
Natasha’s shoulders slumped and Caroline’s smile tightened.
Elisa couldn’t imagine Caroline being so desperate as to hand her unmarried daughter over to a young man for a five-hour ride to London without a chaperone. Obviously Natasha’s father planned on being in London to meet them…with a shotgun.
“Speak of the devil,” Lady Frederickson said in an undertone, motioning toward the door.
“Vaughn, come in, my dear.” Caroline all but purred.
Elisa’s pulse jumped and she sat up straighter, resisting the need to turn toward the door. She was morbidly aware of being monitored by the woman—were they watching her for any signs of a breakout of her rumored whorish ways? Perhaps they were afraid her evil influence would rub off on them. She had to appear totally disinterested in Vaughn.
She was mildly amused at the way most of the other women preened at his arrival.
“Good morning, ladies,” Vaughn said from the door. “Lady Winridge, you must surely have arranged this collection of beauties to satisfy my eye.”
There was subtle straightening of shoulders, unconscious patting at hair. The more timid of the women grew rosy cheeked and flustered. The card game came to a complete halt.
Vaughn stepped into Elisa’s range of vision. Her heart fluttered at his appearance. His dark morning suit outlined the broad shoulders and emphasized his trim hips. His hair was pulled back in a queue and his green eyes danced with devilment. He commanded attention—his stature and his attitude, the way he seemed to prowl about the room, intent on mischief.
All of the woman, married or not, were responding to his overtly sensual smile, brooding eyes and experienced air. It took effort to remember how young he really was, for he seemed to ooze confident charm befitting a far older man.
A cat amongst pigeons, indeed.
And it is me he wants. The sinfully proud thought made Elisa’s heart race and something low in her belly turn slowly over, sending a warm wave of longing through her. For a brief moment, the women’s snubs and the exclusion she had experienced that morning mattered not a damn.
Until Natasha stood and went to Vaughn, a radiant smile on her face.
Elisa’s warm feelings congealed and she looked at her lap, heedless of what they might think of such a telling action.
“I would not want to interrupt your card game, Natasha. Ladies, please forgive me the intrusion,” he said.
The ladies in the group laughed and smiled, instantly forgiving him. He came closer, his footsteps sounding heavy to Elisa. Reaching for her cup with a trembling hand, she took a sip and set it back down before turning her attention to the only man in the room.
Vaughn looked right at her, his smile wide and inviting. “I am pleased to see you and Father made it, Elisa. Did you sleep well?”
He took the seat beside her, not breaking eye contact for a second.
Elisa could feel the women avidly soaking up this spectacle, storing away the details to bring out and discuss at length at a later time—perhaps to live again the thrill of observing a scandalous woman in action.
She swallowed and forced a polite, completely emotionless smile. She knew Vaughn was careless about his own reputation, but he had less to prove than she.
“Yes, I slept well. And you?” Her voice broke and she shifted in her seat, ignoring how the side of his mouth lifted just the slightest bit.
“Very well, thank you,” he replied. He turned to Caroline. “Your home is very comfortable, Lady Munroe.”
Elisa’s heart turned to ice. Vaughn had been here last evening? Where? Why had she not seen him? And…Natasha had not been at the dinner table.
She recalled the radiant smile on Natasha’s face a moment ago, when she had approached Vaughn.
A hot sickness washed through her, making her head spin and flood with a coppery taste she thought might be the flavor of disgust. She almost moaned with it. Had Vaughn been with Natasha last night? Had he found Elisa’s unwillingness to accommodate his desire finally too much for his impetuousness and moved on?
“I’m glad you’re pleased with your room,” Caroline was rattling on. “Natasha made sure everything was perfect in your quarters.” She beamed as she squeezed her daughter’s hand. “Natasha wanted you to have a view of the hillside.”
The woman were gobbling up this intimate little setting. A romance in their midst. They would dine on the details for a month.
“The heather is in bloom and ever so fragrant,” Natasha blurted, her hands folded together. The picture of complete innocence.
Vaughn finally shifted his attention to the young woman who sat on the very edge of her seat. “Thank you, sweet Natasha, for seeing to my needs so thoughtfully.”
Sighs filled the room.
Vaughn sat forward, poured himself a cup of tea and sat back.
Elisa was more than aware of the bare inches that separated them. Every eye was on him and she wondered if they thought his behavior odd. Did they wonder why he sat by her, his soon-to-be stepmother, when there was a spot beside Natasha and another across the room by Lady Farrow? Or was she just being paranoid?
He finished the drink in a few swallows, set the cup down and turned to Elisa. “Would you like to take a stroll in the gardens with me?”
Horror swept through her. Surely he would not insist she make such a spectacle of herself…?
He didn’t give her time to respond. Instead, he stood, then pulled her to her feet. He turned and bowed to the other ladies.
“Elisa has the most beautiful garden, doe
s she not, Lady Munroe?” He turned to Caroline, who merely nodded, her disappointment obvious as she sat her cup down noisily.
“Lady Munroe has some roses the most wonderful shade of purple that I really must show Elisa. Please excuse us, ladies.”
Elisa could have melted into the ground right there and then, for rather than offering her his arm as a proper gentleman would, he kept her hand captive in his big, warm one. She did not dare look to confirm the women were all watching and remembering the shocking fact.
Elisa waited until they were outside the manor to pull her hand from his.
“Vaughn, for goodness sake…have you no decency, no sense of propriety? Are you trying to ruin me?”
He looked completely innocent. “What do you mean?”
“You interrupt our game, then you proceed to sit by me amongst those women who scarce acknowledge me, then ask me to take a walk. Holding my hand! Do you know that mere moments before you arrived they were talking about you escorting Natasha to London? I have little doubt what they must be thinking now.”
His air of innocence fell away. She saw his jaw ripple, as if he had clenched his teeth and his brow furrowed. “And what are they thinking, Elisa? That I wanted to take time to be with my future stepmother. They would object to such a simple entertainment as inspecting Lady Munroe’s ailing roses?”
The tone of his voice made her feel very small and self-absorbed. Perhaps she was being somewhat obsessive. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she once again opened them, he had taken a step closer.
“I missed you yesterday.” His voice was low.
And I you. Elisa held back the response. His nearness, his size, the way he made her feel very small were provoking her memories of the other evening. She glanced at the thick lock of hair that had escaped from the queue. That silky lock had been caressing her flesh as his mouth roamed her body.
A shiver wracked her, sending her arms into goose bumps, even as her body tightened in response to the images.
Remember Raymond.
She did her best to look him in the eye and give nothing of her feelings away. “Vaughn, you must cease this pursuit. Especially here, amongst so many people. Rufus already knows you have less than honorable intentions. All he needs is evidence to call you out. And here, in this place…here…” She couldn’t give voice to the wretchedness she had been suffering and how much worse it would be if anyone even suspected their relationship was not what it seemed.
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