The Seduction (Notorious 1)

Her tears had cut at his heart. Almost as tormenting was her lack of candor when she’d refused to tell him why she was crying. Perhaps it was absurd, but he wanted honesty between them.

Had Vanessa perhaps been comparing him to her late husband? Had his wicked sexual games reminded her too closely of her pain and shame at Sir Roger’s hands? Or had the comparison started earlier in the evening, upon seeing the Swann at Vauxhall? If memory served, Sir Roger’s last scandal was the result of a duel over an actress… Good God, Elise Swann.

Damien swore profanely under his breath as he remembered Vanessa’s stricken expression at the encounter in the pleasure gardens last night. How could he have failed to see the reason for it?

He’d thought her wo

unded look due to simple jealousy. Given the troubled history of her marriage, she would understandably be upset to have his own former relationship with another woman brandished in her face. But her distress clearly went far deeper. Her husband had been killed over the same actress he himself had enjoyed and showered with emeralds. It had devastated her to have her most terrible humiliation flaunted in her face-and he was to blame.

Then he’d compounded her misery by taking her to a brothel and treating her like any sophisticated harlot- even though a sophisticated harlot was precisely what she was determined to become, and what he had set out to make of her.

Fiend seize it, he couldn’t go through this charade any longer. He couldn’t pretend indifference while Vanessa strove to win a place in his wicked realm. She didn’t belong in his world, any more than his own sister did. There were doubtless other less destructive ways for her to obtain the financial independence she so determinedly sought. He would have to end this gut-wrenching scheme of theirs if his conscience was to have any peace at all.

Damien turned to stare out the carriage window, through the gloomy mist. He despised himself just now.

His careful tutoring had been designed to forearm Vanessa against the sort of libertine she would doubtless encounter in her new role. Rakes of his own ilk. But if he had any pretensions to nobility, he reflected darkly, he would protect her from himself.

The drizzle had subsided by the time they arrived at Rosewood. Damien escorted Vanessa into the house, where they were greeted by an unsmiling Croft.

When Damien asked where his sister could be found, the butler’s frown deepened. “I believe Miss Olivia is in the garden, my lord. She is entertaining a gentleman caller.”

Vanessa froze in the act of surrendering her pelisse. Her first thought was of her brother. With her heart suddenly quickening, she followed Damien through the French doors of the drawing room, out into the garden.

Olivia was not immediately visible, but a few moments later, they spied her in the distance, seated in her invalid chair beneath a linden tree. A man sat on the bench before her, holding both her hands in his.

Recognizing Aubrey, Vanessa blanched.

“Damien, wait…” she urged breathlessly, fearing what he would do. He merely quickened his step, long, angry strides that carried him rapidly toward his sister.

Hearing footsteps, the couple looked up guiltily as he approached. Both of them went still.

Vanessa knew the exact instant Damien identified the caller, for he came to an abrupt halt. She could see the wave of cold rage overtake him; every line of his body went rigid.

Far from fleeing in fear, though, Aubrey rose slowly to his feet. “My lord,” he murmured, standing his ground.

Vanessa couldn’t help but admire her brother’s bravery. She felt the blistering force of Damien’s wrath as she came to a halt beside him.

Silence followed, as potent as the aftershock of a lightning bolt.

It was Olivia who spoke first. “Damien… I did not expect you-”

“What the devil are you doing here?” Damien demanded of Aubrey. “I thought I gave you fair warning to keep away from my sister.”

“I invited him to call,” Olivia said hastily.

Damien turned to stare at her, as if she had lost her mind.

“I had a question to pose to Miss Sinclair,” Aubrey said in a quiet voice.

His attention snapping back to the intruder, Damien clenched his hands into fists. “I suggest you take yourself off my estate before I forcibly remove you.”

Vanessa caught his arm anxiously, remembering how violently Damien had dealt with the young man who’d tried to kiss her at the recent ball. His anger at Aubrey was a hundred times greater, and unlike the squire’s son then, Aubrey showed no indication of backing down.

“I love your sister and hope to wed her,” he declared in that same quiet tone. “She claims to love me in return.”

Olivia held out an imploring hand. “It’s true, Damien, I do. Please, don’t be angry.”

“Olivia, keep out of this!” he demanded, keeping his eyes fixed upon his foe. “I’ll have a footman take you back to the house at once.”