Defying the Earl (30 page)

The sound of the front entry brass drew Valerian’s notice, but he forced his attention to Caroline, her discomposure striking a sympathetic note. He knew the flavor of regret well. Had the lady not devastated his plans and pride, he’d once considered their future otherwise intended. But she’d destroyed that vision, shaming him in the process and choosing wealth over emotion. Pity was the only label for his sentiments on the matter. If she desired someone to share her remaining days, she’d come to the wrong household. At his silence, she continued.

“I’m aware I’ve embarrassed you and caused a scandal before fleeing to America, but Fate never leaves a debt unpaid. My child and husband died within months of each other, leaving me quite alone.” Tears streaked her face as she turned in his direction.

Gone was the histrionic outpouring and sultry enticement, replaced by a shade of behavior he’d never seen Caroline emote.

He was all at once suspicious.

Her talents included a carefree suppression of true motive, still he would go to her the way a brother reassures a sister when her heart is broken. She turned into his chest accepting his shoulder, her face against his waistcoat. At a loss for words, he allowed her the comfort, his loose embrace consolation enough.

When a knock sounded on the drawing room door, he speared a sideways glare as Jasper entered with Randolph in tow. But no, it wasn’t Beaufort trailing his brother. Jasper stepped aside.

Wilhelmina
.

She stood in Jasper’s wake, her face pale and her brows knitted as she stared into his eyes.

He smiled true joy, until it dawned with deplorable realization he still embraced Caroline.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Whimsy’s voice hammered him with the acute bitterness of a London hail storm.

Valerian could well imagine how it appeared though Wilhelmina had no reason to fret. She owned his entire heart and he smiled wider at her endearing show of jealousy.

Apparently Caroline noticed she’d lost his attention. He’d dropped his arms as Whimsy entered and now adrift, Caroline stepped away, recomposed, her attention drawn by Wilhelmina’s icy proclamation. Jasper had wisely taken himself elsewhere.

“If you wanted him for yourself, you shouldn’t have accepted my payment and sent me to his door.” The smirk that followed cleared any illusion Caroline had changed her ways. Val watched with keen interest as she continued. “And straight into his arms.” She whispered the last bit.

He thought to interject with an exonerating explanation, but his eyes landed on Wilhelmina, out of depth and utterly adorable. She turned in his direction and he hoped the tenderness in his heart softened his expression. “Nonsense, Caroline. Nothing untoward is happening here and I’m pleased Wilhelmina has come to visit.”

Wilhelmina’s brow climbed on cue with his admittance. “Actually, I’m here to see Lord Beaufort.”

“The hell you are.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Both ladies swiveled in his direction as the low muttered objection broke the silence. He was dead serious and would happily expound to dismiss any misgivings on Whimsy’s part. “A well-bred lady never visits a gentleman unchaperoned.”

Wilhelmina swung her eyes to Caroline, Valerian’s implied message clear.

“Must I return with Aunt Kate, because I intend to speak to Lord Beaufort whether you approve or not?”

He glanced to her hems certain she would stamp her little boot, this charming display of temper rattling his restraint. He wanted nothing more than to rush to her side and wrap her in his embrace. But whatsoever could she wish to discuss with Beaufort? Randolph was as jangle-brained as Jasper on his sharpest morning.

“Is Lord Beaufort in house?” Her brows rose nearly to her hairline this time.

“Good heavens, Whimsy.” He left Caroline’s side and strode across the room anxious to understand her ill-advised mission. “He’s at home, but why the insistence?”

“I do not pry into your personal business.” Again she shifted her eyes to Caroline. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t ask questions I’m hesitant to answer.”

Anger overrode his early amusement. “I believe our relationship has advanced beyond casual conversation.”

“Has it now?” Caroline interjected, proving she’d absorbed every word with the interest of a viper waiting to strike. She took a menacing step and Wilhelmina reacted exactly as intended.

“I should leave and pursue my personal business. It’s easy to see I’ve interrupted a private conversation.”

Valerian shook his head to dissuade her. “Not at all.”

“Of course she did, dearheart.” Caroline turned a brittle smile and pierced Whimsy with an icy glare. “Valerian and I were quite busy. You should know I can’t imagine my life without him.”

“You might want to start.” Wilhelmina spun on her heel and returned to the hall.

Valerian stared after her, a smile teasing his mouth at her possessive reply though his mind became conflicted by curiosity soon after. Why was Whimsy determined to speak to a man she’d never met before?

“Let her go so we may resume our discussion.”

Right, Caroline. “I can’t make this any clearer.” He exhaled deeply and faced his past mistake, more annoyance that true problem, yet anxious to dismiss with finality. “There is no future for us. There never will be. You should aim your attention, your efforts, whatever label fits, in some other gentleman’s direction. You may believe you can help me, but no amount of money will buy my affection.” His words struck a chord of realization, in tune to his fiscal situation and everlasting adoration for Wilhelmina. He’d dismissed Whimsy’s view of their future as feminine naiveté. But damn it to hell, he needed to reconsider.

First, of course, he must find her. The sharp incentive sparked him into action. “Now, I have another matter to attend to. Please show yourself out.” He left before Caroline could utter an objecting syllable and climbed the stairs to the study. Why would Wilhelmina need to speak to Beaufort? He stopped short upon entering the room where Randolph and Whimsy stood alone. “What is happening here?”

Wilhelmina might have smiled at Valerian’s endearing and jealous temperament. Good heavens, his brilliant eyes blazed with fury as he stood in the doorframe broad and demanding, his jaw set, fists clenched as if itching for provocation to throw a punch. Alas, she was too involved with Randolph to enjoy his reaction fully, but her stomach fluttered just the same.

“So you haven’t kept correspondence with my sister Livie?” A note of disappointment mingled with relief as Lord Beaufort nodded the affirmative.

“I’m afraid I’m of little assistance. Your sister may have written to any lucky fellow.”

“I’m sorry to have bothered you.” She wasn’t sure exactly how she felt about the entire situation.

“I only wish I could have supplied more answers. I daresay London is a huge city. Perhaps if I spoke to your sister directly—”

“Oh no.” Wilhelmina emphasized her answer with a vehement shake of the head. “That is unnecessary.”

An odd silence took hold.

“I will take things from here, Beaufort. Now excuse yourself. I need to speak to Lady Montgomery.” Valerian’s tone verged on lethal.

Lord Beaufort offered her an abrupt bow and left the room as if flames licked his heels. She whirled on Valerian, her emotions as muddled as his reasoning. “You had no right to chase Lord Beaufort from the room.”

“I had every right.”

“This is not your home.”

“True, but you are my…”

He faltered and she pounced upon his hesitation. “It
is
hard to label exactly what I am, what we are, isn’t it? You’ve insinuated yourself into my life, aligned with my matchmaking efforts, pledged your sincere promise of assistance, rescued me from danger, and seduced me with passion only to abandon me shortly thereafter. I daresay there isn’t a dictionary in England that contains a definition encompassing exactly what I am to you.” She’d worked herself into a snit of confused anger as emotion warred with logic, yet when he smiled, she needed to bite the inside of her cheek to keep a grin from escaping. There was no denying their affecting inherent connection, an unspoken commitment forged between them as they lay in each other’s arms; a promise that bound them tightly despite his reluctance and stubborn attitude concerning their future. They belonged to each other whether he realized it or not.

“Whimsy.” He released a long-held breath. “I love you. Never should you doubt the depth of my emotion. It’s just not as simple as you believe. You’d be better off with a husband who could care for you and treasure you in the manner you deserve.”

His words were her undoing. Still she wouldn’t run to him and provide an easing balm to assuage his conflicted conscience.

“You don’t believe our love is enough. At some point, pride needs to stand down so your heart can lead the way.”

“A bit of matchmaking advice for me as well?”

“A bit of common sense.”

“Don’t be angry. It’s because I care for you deeply that I cannot marry you.”

“Do you hear yourself? I’ve never entertained such utter rubbish.” She strove for a reasonable tone, though his honesty lay waste to her heart. As truth took hold, that he would choose financial security over true love, her heartache worsened. “This isn’t about money.”

“It’s always about money, one way or the other.” He shook his head to emphasize the point.

“How dare you?” His glib comment augmented her desire to teach him a lesson or two.

“What did I say?”

“Your mind is sealed against reason, colored by the past, and I’m wasting my time here. You regard our intimacy as a mistake.”

“More like a miracle.” He took a step closer. “Whimsy.” His tone pleaded despite the gleam of mischief in his eye.

Did he think this all a game?

“Do not call me that. As a matter of fact, do not call on me.” She rushed around the wing chair and headed toward the door. “My business here is finished.” And on that ending note, she swept from the room lest he may discover the unshed tears in her eyes.

Valerian stared at the doorway wishing Wilhelmina hadn’t left but unable to say the words needed to cause her to stay. Apparently he was far better at
matchbreaking
than he’d anticipated. He just never thought it would be his own heart.

Still Wilhelmina over-simplified the matter, as if love would pay the bills, keep her in gowns, care for her sister. He could never assume responsibility for Livie and Aunt Kate then see them run into the poor house. Damnation, Livie needed medical care. Memories of his father’s ailing days beckoned his attention. What type of protector would he be to selfishly keep Wilhelmina from finding a secure marriage and the financial stability needed to care for her dependent family?

Yet something dark and deep twisted in his gut at the unwelcome conclusion Wilhelmina should marry another. The feeling left him hollow as an empty bank vault, lonely as the last coin in his pocket. And angry. Very angry.

Damn his father’s wastrel habits. Damn his cursed situation and his failure to rebound. Wilhelmina made it sound uncomplicated, but it
was
complicated and so much more. Destitution would destroy their love and drown them in social embarrassment. Money annihilated love. Didn’t Caroline teach him that painful lesson?

He hadn’t planned on his feelings for Wilhelmina, and because of their depth, he’d be damned sure not to commit her to the dismal fate hungrily salivating for his eminent future.

A disparate sound drew his attention to the doorway where Jasper entered.

Jasper.

Jasper
.

He would wring his neck.

“At last, I have your attention.”

Valerian snapped from his maudlin thoughts and sliced his brother a glare in response to his nonchalant greeting.

Jasper paced to the far side of the room as if unharnessed energy drove his restlessness. Valerian had never seen him so invigorated. Indeed, Jasper was usually the first one to recline whether the room had a suitable chaise or not.

“What do you want?” The day had arrived, long overdue, to cease his coddling and forgiving nature. Jasper was as guilty as their father for every scrap of their current ruin. Worse, actually. Watching Wilhelmina walk away had provided the proverbial last straw. “I’ve received several urgent notices from our creditors. I couldn’t stomach opening the threatening letters, for surely time has run out.”

“Not at all—”

“I would tread with caution if somewhere in your brain box you’ve the cork-witted idea to invent, invest or divest one penny of Dashwood funds – as if we had one penny.”

“Hear me out before you set up your bristles.”

“There’s nothing left to say.” Val charged at his brother, his strides eating up the carpet in his rush to cross the room. “I’ve allowed you to run rip shod over our future. I’ve compensated for father’s influence, wallowed in my own shameful pride, and discovered I’ve too large a heart for my own good, but the time has come to pay the piper, Jasper. No pun intended.”

“See here, Dash. If you’ll allow me to explain…”

“I’ve heard it all.”

“You haven’t heard this.” Jasper donned a cocky grin. His dismissal of their impending devastation grated Val’s displeasure.

“Our ruin has been years in the making. There is nothing you can say that will repair the damage you’ve done.” He took a last menacing step to tower over the chair where Jasper had plopped, cheerfully unaffected. Damn it, he wore a smile still. His brother wasn’t
that
short-witted.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.” Val huffed in exasperation. “Not. One. Thing.”

“Are you certain?”

“Good lord, Jasper. What has gotten into you? Are you purposely trying to incite me? Listen closely as I repeat. Nothing you can say will reverse the damage of your spendthrift, gambling, ill-intended, misadventures. I remember them all.”

“Oh, very good.” His smile widened. “Do you recall the mousetrap?”

“How could I forget such an innovative investment sure to put every feline out of business?” The derisive cut of his sarcasm marked each word as a fraying thread of patience.

“Actually, I didn’t agree with your, eh, wary opinion and have been funneling all my monies into Atkinson’s model. He’s securing the patent with the government office in South Kensington tomorrow. I’m to accompany him as I’ve accumulated a large portion of business shares in his venture.”