Laura Matthews (28 page)

He smoothed back the dark curls that had fallen across her forehead and cheeks. “Then marry me, Vanessa. You’ve given me more than I dared hope for tonight, but I want to share the full richness of love with you. Not just physically, but in every way. Your children would want you to be happy. There’s no sense in sacrificing yourself for no reason. I promise you they’ll love St. Aldwyns almost as much as Cutsdean, and I think you will, too, my dear.”

The room was dark but her eyes had grown accustomed to it and she touched his lips, running a finger over the tender width of his mouth. “I’ll speak to them in the morning, James.” Then she sat up and carefully tied the bow at her neck. “It won’t be their decision, though; it will be mine. If I decide against marriage, I will always have this memory.”

“There’s no need for memories when you can have daily doses,” he said lightly, squeezing her hand and climbing out of bed to find her dressing gown on the floor. He held it for her and fastened the buttons before once more kissing her softly. “I’ll see you to your room.”

“No, thank you,” she laughed. “I shouldn’t want to find myself in a compromising position with you, James. Think of our reputations.”

“To hell with our reputations.”

But she shook her head. “I know Cutsdean in the dark, my dear. There’s no need, honestly. All it would take was our running into William as he returned to his room. Please.”

“Very well.” As she slipped out the door, he said, “I love you,” to her retreating back but she didn’t respond.

Alvescot lay awake for some time puzzling over her real reason for this hesitation. What an extraordinary woman to stay with him out of love and desire, and yet feel that she wasn’t ready to accept his offer of marriage! Vanessa stirred a wondering admiration in him; her behavior was not bound by normal convention. No other woman he knew would have allowed such intimacy before marriage, and yet he could accept—no, even respect—her decision to lie with him even if she might decide not to marry him. Alvescot realized, too, that she would have allowed a consummation of their intimacy if she hadn’t had to consider the possibility of conceiving. There was no doubt in his mind that she loved him; it was her reason for staying with him. But the children didn’t seem excuse enough not to marry him. Their problems were real but solvable. Bemused, and slightly worried, he decided that any further action would have to wait until morning, and he drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Twenty

Edward was ready to leave. With the money he’d gotten from Alvescot he intended to travel post chaise to London, and spend a few days there enjoying himself before he went on to Europe. There was really no hurry, if one didn’t count the possibility his father would move his establishment in the meantime, and Edward felt certain he would have no trouble finding him again if he did. For the first time in years he had sufficient money to indulge himself for a few days, and he was determined to do it.

His parting with his mother, who was only half awake in her bedchamber, was much as he expected. She wept and pleaded with him not to abandon her, but she also managed to let fall that Louisa had come in early that morning to tell her she was marrying William Oldcastle.

“I shall have to go and live with them, and he doesn’t like me above half, Edward,” she moaned. “Oh, what hopes I had of Alvescot, but Louisa tells me he has always been interested in Vanessa. Imagine! What can she offer him that my poor Louisa cannot? Vanessa isn’t half so good on the pianoforte, and she only sings passably! I told Louisa she could not marry William, and she said, ‘I’m of age, Mama.’ Have you ever? Talking to her own mother that way! But if you were to stay at Cutsdean,” she said slyly, “then I think it would be only right for me to stay here with you.”

“I’m not staying,” Edward informed her bluntly. “I have business in Italy and I have no intention of returning any time in the near future.”

“What business?”

“Something has come up,” he said, vague. “You’d best go with Louisa and William and make the best of it, Mama. I’m not surprised William doesn’t like you, the way you’ve been behaving toward him.”

It was a family trait to give dig for dig, and Mabel, even in her hour of distress, was not to be deterred. “And you,” she rasped, “had best not plan on being able to come back to Cutsdean, Edward. If Vanessa and Alvescot are contemplating matrimony, you may be sure neither of them has any intention of allowing you to hang on them for the rest of your life.”

Edward hadn’t given the matter any thought, but he was grateful for her warning. Not that he told her so. What he did was ask for any money she had available, and as always she came through from her meager resources. She sighed as he closed the door behind himself, trying to accustom herself to this double tragedy. At least William was well-heeled, and without Edward’s drain on any allowance she might receive, she would be in a position to indulge herself a little. The thought made her feel better, but not so enthusiastic as to leave her bed. There was plenty of time to face her radiant daughter and her gloomy-faced prospective son-in-law when she was adequately rested.

What she had said was perfectly true, Edward thought as he closed the door. If he left now, with a budding romance underway, there was every chance he wouldn’t have Cutsdean to return to should the necessity arise. It even occurred to him that Alvescot had been lying, but that conjecture was immediately put aside. The earl had waved about his solicitor’s letter and jotted down the information Edward would need from it. He couldn’t imagine anyone going to the trouble of having a letter available if it weren’t the real thing.

In the recesses of his mind Edward stored every bit of information which might prove useful to him at present or in the future. This, too, was a Curtiss habit which he had improved upon over the years, acquiring great ability at eavesdropping and snooping through other people’s correspondence. He paused now in the hall, trying to remember a scrap of conversation he had overheard in the stables. Alvescot’s groom had been talking with his coachman on their first sojourn at Cutsdean, and the little he had heard was not enough to put any pressure on the earl, so he had regretfully dismissed it from his mind.

But lovers were notoriously high-strung, he knew from experience, and it wouldn’t do the least harm to embellish a little on what he had heard, to put the cat among the pigeons. Something about a woman, he recalled, an acquaintance of the earl’s in Spain. Alvescot’s groom had been there at the time to take care of his horses and he was telling the coachman, apropos what appeared to him a new affair of the heart with Vanessa, perhaps, that only once before had he seen his employer show such interest in a young woman. “A regular beauty, she was,” the man had said. “Had his lordship doing the pretty every minute he had to spare, and I promise you there weren’t many. Came to nothing, though. Her family wasn’t interested in an English lord. Had their sights on someone a little more influential in their own country, I shouldn’t doubt. Bothered him a lot, you know. He kept to himself for months and, by God, I’ve always thought he never quite got over it. Him such an outgoing gentleman till then, if you take my meaning.”

That was all Edward had heard, but perhaps it was enough. Try as he would, he could not dredge up a name for the woman. Possibly it hadn’t been given, or even known. But as far as Edward was concerned, all Spanish beauties were named Maria, in one form or another, and he chose it to make his story seem more legitimate. If it was wrong, Alvescot wasn’t going to have much of a chance to refute it, if Edward knew anything about women, and he was sure he did. They took off with the bit between their teeth at the slightest hint of scandal, never stopping to listen to a perfectly reasonable explanation. Jealousy was what did it, he thought smugly. And Vanessa was too proud by far to accept a man whose integrity wasn’t intact. That was what he would have to stress.

Edward couldn’t be bothered to say good-bye to his sister, in spite of the engagement which might prove of use to him in the future. William, he knew, was not particularly inclined to lend him money, but once they were married he might be induced to part with a little of the ready. Not that Edward had much hope of putting pressure on Louisa; the woman was as stubborn as they came and she had complained for the last year that Edward kept her from having two pennies to rub together in her pocket.

So Edward went directly to Vanessa to purchase his insurance policy. If he could, without seeming to, dissuade her from marrying Alvescot, it might be possible for him to return to Cutsdean one day. As a gambler, Edward would have said the odds were vastly in his favor for the success of his plan, and he approached her in the Library with his jaunty smile.

“I’m off,” he declared, dropping into a chair across from her desk. “Alvescot said you know all about my father being in Italy and I’m going to confirm it. I think it’s best if we don’t say anything to my mother and sister at present. No use getting their hopes up.” He offered his most sincere countenance for her inspection. “I’ve told them it’s business. My mother says Louisa insists on marrying Oldcastle, so I’m sure the two of them will be kept too busy to notice I’m gone.”

“I daresay,” she agreed.

“I’d like the carriage, if I might. Just into Basingstoke, you know. I’ll hire a post chaise there.”

“Of course.”

“Alvescot gave me a draft, but he didn’t have much in the way of ready cash,” he suggested.

“I’m sure you’ll manage as far as London.”

Just like her to ignore his needs, Edward thought as he prepared for his master stroke. She deserved a bit of a disappointment. Look what she already had! There was a definite justice about her not becoming a countess, with all the extra wealth Alvescot could provide. Vanessa had had things too easy for too long. While he! Edward mused about the difficulties of his life for a moment, letting them work him into enough of a rage to deliver his parting blow.

“You’ll have to watch out for Alvescot,” he said casually.

Vanessa had studied the handsome face opposite her as he worked his way toward his announcement. She allowed her eyes to widen. “Oh? Why?”

“I know he seems the perfect gentleman.” Edward had trouble refraining from sneering when he said it, but he knew that would be the wrong thing to do. “But I’ve heard things to the contrary.” Here he paused, giving her a chance to absorb the possibility of wrongdoing, to wonder what the earl could have done to cause talk about himself. Edward decided it would be best to make her ask, but Vanessa merely stared at him, a disconcerting sort of stare, though one couldn’t have called it disbelief, exactly.

Finally he said, “I heard it from his own groom, you know.” This sounded a bit defensive, and was perhaps open to misinterpretation, so he added, “I just happened to overhear him speaking to the coachman one day.”

Even this intriguing information did not bring a response from her. She sat at her ease, one hand resting on the desk and the other out of his range of vision. Edward convinced himself the other hand was clenched tightly in her lap.

“You are a trusting sort of woman, Vanessa,” he explained, patient with her anxiety. “Because a man is an aristocrat, and a cousin of your late husband’s, you’re willing to accord him a belief in his innate decency. I merely thought I should warn you to be on your guard. This man is not as he appears!” he announced with all the drama of a player on the stage.

Vanessa said nothing but she was beginning to wonder if Edward, too, had been wandering about the house the previous evening. Had he seen her come out of Alvescot’s room late at night? It didn’t seem likely, or he would have pressed for money for his silence. She did wish he’d get on with what he intended to tell her, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of prompting him.

“It seems,” Edward said, his voice now hushed with conspiracy as he leaned toward her, “that his lordship is taken to seducing young ladies of good birth. There was a woman in Spain, apparently from a superior family, whom he ravaged and left to fend for herself. The name was Maria, I believe. Now, the Spaniards may in general be a group of blood-thirsty villains, but their best families have a claim to an Englishman’s respect.” He sat back, self-righteous, and frowned at her. “It was not an honorable thing to do, Vanessa. Any man who could do such a dastardly deed is not an acquaintance you would want to have. I warn you for your own good.”

“I see. Well, thank you for telling me, Edward, but I don’t think it would be advisable for you to spread such a story. I can’t think Lord Alvescot would allow such a slander to pass.” She rose to dismiss him.

“No, no!” he protested, leaping to his feet.
“You
are the only one I would tell, because you’ve been so good as to allow him to trespass upon your hospitality. A woman isn’t likely to hear these truths, and consequently is unguarded against any man who might attempt to take advantage of her. Many a sorry lady would have benefited from some timely advice. You know it is only my great admiration for you that prompts me to indulge in such a distasteful task.”

“I’m sure,” she replied, noncommittal. “As you are off, Edward, I’ll bid you a pleasant journey. I hope you find your father and that your reunion with him will be all you could wish.”

Though she didn’t appear moved by his story, Edward felt sure he had planted a kernel of doubt that would sprout into full-blown outrage by the time he reached Basingstoke. He mumbled his farewells, appropriately subdued after his grave announcement, and strode from the room.

Vanessa went to stand at the Library window, where she had a view of the carriage drive. It was a good twenty minutes before the carriage was prepared and Edward’s luggage was strapped to the roof. She didn’t know how he thought he was going to convey all those valises in a post chaise, but she didn’t bother to remind him of the limited capacity of one of those smaller vehicles. Perhaps he’d have them transported separately. It no longer mattered to her; she was simply glad to be rid of him.

When the carriage had vanished from sight, she went up to the nursery floor to see the children. She had promised Alvescot she would talk to them, but this wasn’t the right time. First, there was a need to talk to him, again, in light of Edward’s disclosures. Not that she believed for a moment the allegations made against him, but she was familiar enough with Edward’s methods of operation that she suspected there was some grain of fact amidst his fiction. And it might be just the element that was eluding her, the reticence she detected in him that made her hesitate to commit herself.