The Seduction (Notorious 1)

“But it is necessary to uphold the Sinclair honor,” Damien said with a cool smile.

“Yes, indeed,” Olivia agreed. “And Vanessa must have a new gown for the occasion. You must,” she insisted when Vanessa started to protest. “Turnabout is fair play. If I could endure being fitted for all those gowns you thrust on me, you can suffer just one. I will even help you choose the fabric. I have excellent taste, you know. And you have been pressing me to visit the shops in the village.”

Vanessa wanted to refuse the offer. She could not be comfortable having Damien buy her clothing, indebting her even more. But if accepting a new ball gown would serve to get Olivia out of the house, then she would go along, however reluctantly.

The next few days passed slowly for Vanessa. Damien did indeed seem intent on avoiding her, while she pretended an indifference she didn’t feel and tried to come to terms with cold reality.

She had to remember her position. She was Damien’s mistress, only that.

Despite the tenderness he’d shown her in recent weeks, he considered her simply a carnal object. It was foolish to regard his incredible sensuality as anything more than a man’s physical indulgence. Almost any warm female body would have sufficed. Damien Sinclair was still a wicked rakehell, a libertine with vast sexual appetites, one whose sinful charm made strong women weak. She would not be the first one he had casually seduced and then forgotten.

What she had taken as a desire for camaraderie was merely a means to keep his restlessness at bay. She would miss the charming companionship of their late-night discussions, for she’d come to value what had seemed to her a burgeoning friendship. Yet she should never have harbored any higher expectations for their relationship, or allowed herself to become so vulnerable.

She had best get her foolish feelings for him under control, before she opened herself to even greater hurt.

On Thursday, the day before Damien was to leave on his trip, Vanessa and Olivia went shopping in the village. They left the footmen to wait with the carriage and entered the dressmaker’s establishment alone. Olivia didn’t want any servants hovering over her, calling undue attention to her disability.

Vanessa had to admit the girl had exquisite taste in clothing. In less than an hour, they were both satisfied, having agreed upon a bronzed lutestring gown with an overskirt of gold tissue for Vanessa to wear to the ball. The price was one-tenth what she would have paid in London at a fashionable modiste’s.

Upon leaving the shop, Vanessa turned Olivia’s invalid chair toward the village green where the carriage awaited, but then paused to arrange a blanket over her lap. She was bending over the chair when the girl suddenly gasped.

“What is it?” Vanessa asked in concern.

“That man…”

She followed Olivia’s gaze to see a horseman in the distance, riding a bay hack toward them at a slow jog. Vanessa drew a sharp breath as she recognized the familiar form of her brother, Aubrey.

Olivia had made a similar recognition, evidently; the girl had blanched, turning as white as paper.

For the space of several heartbeats, Vanessa stood frozen, unable to think what to do. By the time she realized she ought to remove Olivia from his presence, Aubrey had drawn close enough to notice the invalid chair.

Giving a start, he drew his horse to an abrupt halt.

For a long moment, he and Olivia stared at each other, unspeaking.

Vanessa’s grip tightened on the blanket. She didn’t believe her brother had purposefully orchestrated the meeting, but she was furious at him all the same for letting himself be seen. She stared daggers at him, but he only had eyes for Olivia.

Both women flinched when he began to dismount.

“Vanessa, will you kindly take me home?” the girl asked hoarsely.

“Yes, of course.”

“No, wait… please,” Aubrey said. “Please, hear me out for one moment.” Drawing off his tall beaver hat, he moved to stand before them, blocking the path of the wheeled chair. “Miss Sinclair… Olivia…”

“You have no right to address me, sir,” she said through clenched teeth. She was visibly trembling.

“Perhaps not.” Aubrey dropped to one knee, so that he was at eye level with her. “I understand if you can’t bear the sight of me. I don’t blame you.”

Vanessa heard the remorse in his tone, saw it in his expression, and gritted her teeth. The damage was done; Aubrey had made himself known to Olivia. He might as well be allowed to deliver his apology.

“I realize,” Aubrey said quietly, “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I wanted you to know how sorry I am. How ashamed I am for what I did to you.” He glanced down at the invalid chair that held her prisoner. “If I could take your place I would.”

Her gaze remained anguished, but there was a hint of steel in her voice when she replied rigidly, “Your concern comes rather late, doesn’t it? It has been months since I last was foolish enough to believe your tender professions.”

His faint smile was bleak. “I tried to see you, to write, but your brother banned me from the premises and ordered all my letters returned.”

“I wish I had been half as wise when you first began to woo me.” Her mouth trembled. “How pleased you must have been when you won your wager so effortlessly.”