The Daring Miss Darcy (Lost Ladies of London 4)

Chapter Eighteen

They lay wrapped in each other’s arms, their legs entangled, their souls entwined. Vane stroked her hair, caressed her cheek, ran his hand over her bare shoulder because he could not stop touching her.

“When you came here, you said you had something important to tell me,” he reminded her. They were on the verge of falling asleep, but he knew Mr Erstwhile wouldn’t settle until she returned home.

Her warm brown eyes searched his face. “I came because it is time you learnt the truth. It was wrong of me to keep it from you, and now I can see that not knowing caused more pain than disappointment ever could.”

“Why not wait until tomorrow?”

“I hoped we could put the past behind us, that tomorrow could be a fresh start, a new day.”

Vane came up on his elbow and gazed down at her. “Then tell me everything. Leave nothing out. Let us have no secrets anymore.” He suspected the truth would be unpleasant. After all, it had given her cause to leave him and flee to France.

“I’m not sure where to begin.”

“Begin with what this has to do with my father.” He was desperate to know.

After a moment’s hesitation, Estelle told him about his father’s deliberate effort to ruin her father. Vane discovered the extent of his father’s betrayal, of the vile threats, of the ultimatum given to a young woman so torn she had not known what to do.

Tears flowed as quickly as her words.

Water filled his eyes, too. Not for his poor mother, for her father or brother, but for the innocent woman cornered by a tyrant. Vane pictured Estelle standing in the orchard, wringing her hands, gazing up at the sky and pleading for the Lord’s help. He could feel the gut-wrenching pain that accompanied leaving those you loved behind.

Were it not for the love filling his chest now, he would rage through the house in a destructive frenzy. He would smash his fist through the portrait of his father hanging in the hall, chop it into small pieces and use it for fi

rewood. But nothing could change what had happened in the past. And all he wanted now was to bask in this beautiful state of bliss.

“I’m sorry I left without telling you.”

Vane sighed as he wiped her tears away. He understood her motive now. “I cannot imagine how hard it must have been for you, but I wish you had trusted me. We could have eloped. Together, we might have found a way to help your father.”

“Mr Erstwhile would say that hindsight is the Devil tormenting our minds. That no one can foretell what might have been.” She gave a weak smile. “But I do have one question.”

“What is that?”

“If your father went to great lengths to ensure you married his mistress’ daughter, why did you not wed?”

He fell silent for a moment while he gathered his thoughts. Those months after he believed she’d drowned in the shipwreck were the most painful of his entire life.

“Everything makes more sense now,” he said with an air of melancholy. “I became withdrawn after you left, then angry, then rebellious. My father tried to console me, control me, but I refused to listen. He made many attempts to persuade me to marry, threatened me, even came up with a list of prospective brides, the current Lady Cornell being his favourite.”

“Lady Cornell?” Estelle snorted. “That confirms his logic was flawed.”

As the words left her lips, recognition dawned. The veil of secrecy slipped away and he saw the truth for the first time.

“Good God. Lady Trent was my father’s mistress.” Vane sat up and dragged his hand down his face. “Lady Cornell’s mother was known for her conquests. Everyone spoke of a secret lover though no one knew his name. That’s why my father insisted her daughter would be a perfect match.”

Vane had been given an ultimatum — marry her or suffer eternal damnation. His father’s weak heart meant he was denied an opportunity to carry out the threat.

Estelle sat up. Vane’s gaze fell to the soft curve of her breast, and he draped his arm around her, drew her close and settled back against the pillows.

“Perhaps that’s why Lady Cornell is so obsessed with you,” she said as her fingers twirled the hair on his chest, traced the numerous scars he’d received from brawls in dark alleys.

“It certainly explains why she thinks we might be well suited.” Vane chose that moment to explain again how the lady happened to be in such a state of dishabille as she left his house. “My friend, Lord Farleigh, believes the woman is dangerous.”

“Well, she is not afraid to take risks.” Estelle paused. “You told me she wanted you to kill her husband. Do you think that’s her motive or is it that she still hopes to marry you?”

Vane shrugged. “I would say it’s both. After tonight, she knows I would like nothing more than an excuse to ruin Lord Cornell, whether by legitimate means or not.”