The Seduction (Notorious 1)

“Then how?”

“Would you believe me if I said a secret passageway? A former Baron Sinclair had it built during Cromwell’s bloody reign to provide a swift means of escape. But my father made use of it to gain convenient access to his mistresses.” Damien gestured toward a corner of the room closest to the windows. “A panel in the wall moves aside.”

A surge of anger claimed Vanessa at his deception. “Why then did you make such a show of giving me the key to my bedchamber if you had entry all along?”

“Confess, did you not feel easier in your mind, believing yourself safe from me?”

“You said you wouldn’t come here until I invited you.”

“I said I wouldn’t demand to share your bed-and I won’t.”

She could think of no immediate reply, knowing he was right, yet his rationale only rekindled her resentment.

His gaze remained soft. “I meant what I said, Vanessa. You have nothing to fear from me.”

She stared at him, cursing her own foolhardiness. Damien Sinclair should have presented a menacing, sinister figure, wandering like a ghost in the night, intruding wherever he pleased, watching her sleep. But, strangely, she wasn’t afraid of him. She was merely angry. First he had forced her into this untenable situation. Then he’d failed to honor his word in spirit, if not in letter.

“I do not fear you,” she retorted, raising her chin.

“But you don’t trust me.” He smiled faintly. “Your eyes are eloquently expressive.”

“Most certainly I don’t trust you. I believe you’ve given me little reason to.”

“I shall have to convince you otherwise.”

She shifted uncomfortably on her bare feet, wondering if she had the right to demand he leave.

“Meanwhile…” His gaze surveyed her, lingering on the plaited braid of her hair. “Will you not join me?” he repeated. “I am not bent on seduction tonight, I promise you. All I am interested in coaxing fr

om you is perhaps a little conversation.” When still she hesitated, he took a different tack. “I came to thank you, actually.”

“Thank me?”

“I visited Olivia after dinner. She has agreed to see Dr. Underhill.”

Despite her anger, Vanessa was relieved to hear the news. “I am glad.”

“What did you say to persuade her?”

“Nothing much. I played on her sense of familial duty, I suppose. I made her aware of your remorse at not being able to help her. Perhaps she decided to make an effort for your sake, if not her own.”

Damien frowned. “I find that hard to credit. As you’ve no doubt deduced, we aren’t on the best of terms.”

“Olivia says she doesn’t blame you for her misfortune.”

“Perhaps not, but she blames me for neglecting her all these years. I’ve spent the past two months trying to improve our relationship, to little avail.” Damien shook his head. “You were able to draw her out in less than a day. I was exceedingly surprised to discover her reading Shakespeare. That is the first time since her accident, I believe.” He paused before adding reluctantly, “You have my gratitude.”

His praise sounded somewhat grudging, as if he meant to withhold judgment about her and her methods.

“It is only a first step,” Vanessa observed, her own tone just as grudging. “She still has a long, long way to go.”

“A long way indeed,” Damien murmured darkly, staring down at his brandy for a moment. “How did you know her taste in poetry?”

“My brother told me.”

Damien’s jaw hardened visibly, reminding Vanessa of her own deception regarding his sister. But he appeared determined to shrug off any somberness.

He gestured toward the chaise lounge. “Will you oblige me by joining me, Vanessa?”