Vanessa also feared the consequences of having her connection to Aubrey become known. Olivia would, perhaps, hate her if the truth about her deception came out.
Damien, too, would likely be outraged to learn Aubrey was within a hundred miles of his cherished sister.
Uncertainly, Vanessa watched Damien during dinner. He seemed withdrawn, preoccupied, his eyes cool, with none of the sensual heat he’d shown her recently whenever he merely looked at her. Compared to the intimacy of the past week, his manner was almost frosty.
Vanessa wondered if she had done something to anger him. He could not have known about her brother’s visit… And yet, she sensed something was wrong between them.
It came as a surprise when, midway through the fish course, Damien casually mentioned his intention to travel at week’s end to settle some business matters in the north.
But his further revelation that he planned to attend this weekend’s gathering at the Earl of Chine’s frankly startled Vanessa.
Her gaze flew to Damien’s. Lord Clune was one of the infamous leaders of the Hellfire League, and his entertainments were notorious for their debauchery.
Damien appeared to ignore her searching look. “I should like to depart on Friday, Olivia, unless you have any objections to my leaving you alone here?”
“Not at all,” she answered lightly. “I’m sure I will fare well enough without you, since I won’t be alone. Vanessa will bear me excellent company.”
“I have no reservations about leaving you in her capable hands,” he replied, finally meeting Vanessa’s gaze.
His expression remained inscrutable, yet his cool detachment was significant in itself.
With a sudden hollowness in the pit of her stomach, Vanessa stared at him. Numbly, she wondered if he was giving her fair warning that the intimacy between them was coming to an end. That what for her had been a rapturous interlude was concluding because he had more novel pleasures to seek out.
She was sure of it later that night when, for the first time since beginning their torrid affair, Damien didn’t come to her room.
Her heart contracting painfully, she lay there in the dark, alone, aching for his touch and the ecstasy she had known in his arms, unfulfilled longing taut within her.
Chapter Ten
The hungering ache hadn’t left her by morning, when Vanessa woke groggy and in low spirits. But at least in the cold light of day, a semblance of rational thought returned.
She had been deluding herself, she realized. The enchantment of the past week wasn’t truly real. She was no different from Olivia in that regard: she’d fallen under the spell of a practiced rake like a veritable innocent. And now that Damien had attained his goal-her complete surrender- he had no further reason to pursue her.
It was absurd to feel abandoned at his withdrawal, Vanessa scolded herself as she dressed. He’d been perfectly frank with her from the first. She was to be his mistress to satisfy her brother’s enormous gambling debt. Their entire relationship was based on vengeance. Truthfully, she should be pleased if Damien’s desire for her was cooling.
She was glad, however, to learn that he had already breakfasted. Her spirits were raw enough without having to face him and risk revealing her hurt and confusion.
She rode longer than usual and managed to work off some of her agitation in the beautiful summer morning, but her mood suffered another blow when she returned to find two callers at Rosewood, for she was again reminded of her tenuous position in the Sinclair household.
Surprisingly, Olivia had received the callers in the morning parlor. Seated in her invalid chair, she looked grateful to see Vanessa and quickly made the introductions.
“Lady Wyndham, may I present our nearest neighbors, Lady Foxmoor and her daughter Miss Emily Pryce? Emily and I attended school together.”
“How do you do?” Vanessa murmured politely as she seated herself on the chintz chair. She nearly winced at the pair of cold blue eyes surveying her so haughtily. Her ancient riding habit was decidedly shabby, but not so unfashionable as to justify such a hostile reception.
Lady Foxmoor’s greeting was as frosty as her look. “Ah, yes, the companion. I had heard you were hired to attend Miss Sinclair.” She might have said “lowly worm” for all the respect in her tone.
Vanessa gritted her teeth and let the snub pass. Her status in society had fallen dramatically, since a lady’s companion was seen as little better than a paid servant.
The visitor, however, seemed determined to establish her superiority. “Your reputation precedes you, Lady Wyndham.”
“Oh?” Vanessa replied, raising an eyebrow. “How so?”
“Your late husband made quite a name for himself among the fast set in London, I believe.”
“But then one cannot trust every tale one hears,” she returned coolly.
“You will find we are not as free here in the country.”
Olivia, who seemed taken aback by the derogatory tone of conversation, interjected quickly, “They have come to issue a personal invitation to their ball, Vanessa.”
Just as quickly, Lady Foxmoor declared, “I am certain Lady Wyndham would not wish to attend our simple country gathering. It will be nothing compared to the grander London occasions she is accustomed to.”
Vanessa grasped at once that she wasn’t welcome at the ball, yet it didn’t trouble her to be excluded. Before she could reply, however, Olivia warmly came to her defense. “I assure you, Vanessa is not high in the instep at all.”
“Evidently not,” the lady said with a sniff, “if she has taken up the role of lady’s companion. But I’m sure she would not wish to advertise how far she has come down in society.”
“She has not come down at all!” Olivia objected heatedly. “Indeed, she is more a sister to me than a companion.”
Determinedly hiding her anger, Vanessa replied sweetly to the snub. “You are mistaken, Lady Foxmoor. I believe I would find the prospect of a simple country gathering entertaining. I should be pleased to attend your ball.”
The lady’s mouth grew pinched with vexation at having been foiled. Looking extremely uncomfortable, Miss Pryce lowered her eyes and left it to her mother to carry the battle, while Olivia quietly fumed.
The two callers remained several more awkward minutes before finally taking their leave. The moment they were shown to the door by the butler, Olivia bristled.
“The nerve of her! Excluding you from her invitation because you are keeping me company. You are still a guest in this house.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Vanessa soothed. “I have no desire to attend their ball. I only said I would out of annoyance.”
“Even so, she had no right to disparage you or treat you like a servant.”
“I appreciate you championing me, Olivia, but I don’t intend to let her slights discomfit me, and neither should you. Besides, we’ve forgotten the entire point of their visit. They came here personally to invite you to their ball.”
The girl shook her head, frowning. “I am amazed they did, considering the scandal of my near elopement. I thought my name would be anathema, especially since Emily and I have never been great friends.”
“They must not be as shocked as you feared.”
“Oh, I have no illusions that they’ve forgiven me my sins,” came her tart reply. “It is my brother they are after. They hope Damien will escort me to their ball. Lady Foxmoor has been trying for years to nab him for one of her daughters. He is a prime catch, and Emily is her last hope.”
Absurdly Vanessa felt a stab of jealousy at the thought of Damien wedding anyone. Yet the pale, wide-eyed Miss Pryce did not strike her as the type of female to attract a rake of Lord Sin’s stamp.
“Lady Foxmoor must be green with envy, finding you here as a member of this household,” Olivia observed. “No doubt she sees you as a rival for my brother’s affection and can’t bear the thought that you have unfair advantage.”