The Seduction (Notorious 1)

She forced a smile, realizing that Olivia had dismissed the servants and was waiting eagerly for an account of the ball. “I“m sorry, I was woolgathering. I had a very enjoyable evening last night.”

Olivia looked troubled. “That is not what I hear. Servants’ gossip says that Damien was involved in a fight over your honor.”

Vanessa grimaced. “It wasn’t as bad as all that. One of your local gentlemen became foxed and tried to kiss me. Your brother had to intervene. The few witnesses to the scene,” she added wryly, “must have embellished the tale.”

“Who was the gentleman?”

Vanessa hesitated, reluctant to spread the gossip further. But Olivia seemed determined to hear the intimate details. And she should be warned in case she ever found herself in a similar circumstance. “I believe his name was Henry Marsh.”

“Henry? How dare he!” Olivia exclaimed indignantly. “I never have liked him above half. Oh, Vanessa, it must have been horrible for you.”

“It was not pleasant,” she agreed. “But I learned a valuable lesson. In future I shall take care to avoid being alone with a strange gentleman. In fact, I think it wise for me to avoid such gatherings altogether.”

Olivia gave a distressed frown. “I feared something like this might happen, that you would become the subject of ugly rumor-mongering, simply because you are a guest here. It is all Damien’s fault. The most virtuous woman alive would be suspect in his company. I know. With the wickedness of my family, I have always had to behave like a saint, always had to be above reproach. It isn’t fair,” she added somewhat bitterly.

Last night Vanessa had agreed with the sentiment. Now, however, she felt only resignation. She should despise Damien for forcing her into such a position, but she couldn’t bring herself to hate him. It she were totally honest, she would admit even to being grateful to him for helping liberate her from her fears.

“There is a solution to the problem,” Olivia said, putting a finger to her lips thoughtfully. “Damien could undo the damage he has wrought. He could offer you the protection of his name and wed you.”

Vanessa had to smile at the absurdity of the idea.

“I am quite serious!” Olivia declared. “You must do your best to make Damien fall in love with you. Then he would be compelled to make you an honorable offer of marriage. It would be delightful, don’t you think? We would be sisters.”

Vanessa was pleased to see Olivia excited about something, even though her plan couldn’t possibly work.

“Of course, it wouldn’t be easy,” Olivia mused aloud, echoing her thoughts. “Damien seems quite fond of you, but he has always vowed he will never fall in love. He says that he’s seen love destroy too many people, including Mama and Papa. That is why he has remained so unattainable, even though he’s been pursued by countless females.”

Vanessa shook her head. The suggestion was almost laughable. Damien Sinclair was not the sort of man ever to fall in love. Most certainly he would not allow himself to succumb to the sister of a mortal enemy.

She kept her tone light, though, when she replied. “Everyone knows that libertines never fall in love. And in any event, I have no desire ever to marry again.”

Olivia’s face fell. “I suppose it was a wild notion. But I should dearly love to have you for a sister.”

They spoke of more mundane matters for a time, but when Olivia left her so she might dress, Vanessa was struck by a sudden spell of melancholy. She closed her eyes, weary from lack of sleep and emotional strain. It was hopeless to think she might redeem her reputation. As mercenary as it was to contemplate, perhaps she would be wise to consider her friend Lettice’s advice to find a wealthy protector…

Vanessa’s eyes opened. She was resigned to the loss of her good name, but it might be possible to turn her ruination to advantage.

Frowning, she sat up slowly and struggled to focus her thoughts. Being a mistress was far better than being a wife, she was certain, for at least it offered a measure of freedom and independence. A mistress wasn’t considered legal property with fewer rights than a slave.

And not all fallen women faced a future of whoredom and shame. If rumor could be believed, there were Cyprians in London who commanded fortunes in their chosen professions, highfliers who had half the gentlemen of the ton at their feet.

At the moment, Vanessa acknowledged, she was ill-equipped to join their illustrious ranks. She lacked the necessary skills to enthrall any man-although she was far more experienced at lovemaking now than before meeting Damien…

Damien. Of course.

Vanessa’s lips tightened. She’d always been adamant about saving her penniless younger sisters from unhappy marriages like the one she was forced to make, and her liaison with England’s most notorious lover could prove her best chance to secure their financial welfare. Who better than the wicked Lord Sin to advise her on how to attract the attentions of even the most elusive gentlemen?

Her chin lifted defiantly. If she took so brazen a step as to join the muslin company, it would be difficult to return to her old life. As a demirep, she would have to avoid her sisters altogether so she wouldn’t drag them into any scandal attached to her name. Even then, her notoriety could reflect on them and diminish their chances for a distinguished marriage. But at least they wouldn’t be forced into wifehood against their will.

It would be an enormous step, and doubtless irrevocable. Yet she could never hope to support her family on the meager salary a governess or lady’s companion commanded, even if she could manage to find employment. Virtue and respectability couldn’t provide even the basic necessities such as food and shelter. And the world already called her wanton…

Gathering her courage, Vanessa pushed aside the covers and rose to dress. She intended to seek out Damien now, before she lost her resolve. She had to speak to him regarding the grave matter of her education.

Damien bent over the neck of the straining chestnut gelding, urging the horse to greater speed. He was coldly furious at himself-for any number of transgressions. For misjudging the difficulties Vanessa faced in society as his undeclared mistress. For underestimating how savage the petty cruelties of the ton could be. For allowing that idiot son of a squire to accost her. For feeling such guilt at her distress. For having so little control over his own passion…

Hoping rigorous exercise would temper his desire, Damien had gone riding to work off his frustrations, racing across fields and charging up grassy slopes, recklessly jumping the hedges and streams in his path, the beat of churning hooves pounding in his head.

Finally, though, he slowed to spare his horse. It was criminal to take his frustrations out on a superb animal, and physical exertion had little effect on the emotions or sexual tension surging through him.