“So after some weeks of clandestine meetings, you lured Miss Sinclair to a posting inn with the promise of an elopement. You never intended an honorable marriage at all?”
“It would not have mattered how honorable my intentions. I could never have afforded to wed her, even had I wished to. She’s an heiress, but she won’t come into her fortune for three more years. Sinclair would cut her off without a penny if she wed without his permission.”
To his credit, Aubrey’s expression held shame. Vanessa sighed. She well knew how he chafed at his financial state.
But there was little point in bemoaning his lack of wealth, for it was a family failing.
Their father had been a poor manager with no head for business. Hoping his eldest daughter could repair the family fortunes by making a grand match, he’d convinced Vanessa to wed a young baronet who had squandered his vast inheritance and been killed in a senseless duel within the year. Upon her father’s death in a riding accident shortly afterward, Vanessa had willingly escaped London and returned home to live with her family.
She’d spent the two years since managing the household and attempting to persuade her ailing mother and two younger sisters to live within their humble means. Aubrey, however, was the chief problem, demanding funds to support his pleasures and depleting his remaining income on gaming and wenching.
But if they were deep in dun territory before, their situation was now dire.
“Perhaps Charlotte could make a match,” Aubrey suggested in a low voice.
“No! That is out of the question,” Vanessa said fiercely. Charlotte was only fifteen and Fanny thirteen. As long as she had a breath left in her body, her sisters would not be sold into marriage for wealth and position, as she had been.
“Then what do you propose?”
She rubbed her temples wearily. “Perhaps we can simply decline to vacate the premises. Lord Sinclair might find it distasteful having to call in the bailiffs.”
Aubrey shook his head. “My obligation to Lord Sin is a debt of honor. It must be paid, even if we all starve as a consequence.”
She stared at him as her anger rose again. “You’ve lost our home, our sole means of income, and all you can think about is your precious gentleman’s honor?”
“If I cannot pay, I might as well put a bullet to my head.”
“Aubrey, don’t speak that way!” she exclaimed sharply.
He seemed not to hear. “Perhaps I deserve a bullet. When she fell-” He squeezed his eyes shut. “-I thought I had killed her.”
His expression was tortured, distraught, and it frightened Vanessa. “Aubrey, I beg you-”
Abruptly relenting, she rose and went to kneel before him, despite her expensive gown. She took his hands in her own, finding them chilled. “We cannot change the past. We can only strive to be better in the future.”
After a long moment, he nodded. “Pray calm your fears, sweet sister. I don’t have the courage to end my life at my own hand. I haven’t your strength.”
Her heart aching for him, she attempted to divert the direction of his dark thoughts. “What do the doctors say about Miss Sinclair’s condition?”
He drew a shuddering breath. “I don’t know. I was not allowed near her. I wish… I wish I could somehow make amends. That was my intent when I called on Lord Sinclair this week, the instant he returned to town. When he invited me to attend his club, I thought he might have forgiven me… What a fool I was.”
Aubrey forced a twisted smile. “I suppose I am fortunate he chose that means of revenge rather than challenging me to a duel. I deserve his wrath, I know. Had someone treated my own sisters so appallingly, I would have wished to kill him.”
Vanessa felt herself soften. Her brother was not a bad man, simply weak. And she loved him dearly. He was a scapegrace, true. But he had supported her through her difficult marriage; he had made her laugh at a time in her life when she found little cause for joy. And he seemed truly sorry for his abominable actions toward Lord Sinclair’s sister.
“We will think of something, Aubrey, I promise you. I won’t allow our mother and sisters to be thrown out on the street to starve.”
The pleading hope in his eyes was heartrending to see. “What can be done?”
“I don’t know, but I haven’t yet given up trying to persuade Lord Sinclair to see reason.”
“He wants vengeance.”
“I know.” She shivered, remembering the storm-gray eyes that had seemed to penetrate her very soul. His compelling image rose in her mind’s eye: elegant, virile, dangerous. The wicked Lord Sin was a man to be reckoned with.
“He is a heartless devil,” she murmured, “but I shan’t accept defeat just yet.”
Chapter Two