“I am not interested in marrying again, I assure you,” Vanessa replied with conviction, ignoring her friend’s other advice.
She was sorry when Lettice shortly begged her leave and went to seek out another acquaintance. She had enjoyed seeing a familiar face among strangers, and she was pleased that her friend had found happiness in such unlikely circumstances.
Yet the conversation had disturbed her. If Lettice assumed she and Damien were lovers, no doubt others had, as well. It seemed obvious now that that was a better explanation for the cold reception she’d been given than her lowered status as a mere servant. Her attempt to hide their relationship behind the respectable post of companion had failed. Lord Sin was simply too notorious a figure to support so frail a pretense.
It also was becoming clear she wasn’t likely to escape the relationship without being branded as a wanton.
Suddenly warm in the heat of the ballroom and needing a respite from the crowd, Vanessa slipped through the open French doors, out onto the terrace. The summer night air was cool on her flushed skin, the scene peaceful, with the moon a huge, brilliant disk bathing the landscape below. Yet even the beauty couldn’t calm the turmoil of her thoughts.
Her reputation would perhaps be in tatters by the time her term as Damien’s mistress ended. Even so, Vanessa thought defiantly, she would have made the same decision again. Being ostracized by society was not too high a price to pay for her sisters’ sake.
But she still had the difficult question of their future to resolve. She bit her lip. Perhaps when her association with Damien concluded at summer’s end, she should indeed consider seeking an arrangement like the one Lettice suggested.
Such dreams as love were probably beyond her reach. And she would never remarry and put herself at the mercy of a philandering husband. Yet it might be possible to achieve a comfortable relationship of sorts, one based on companionship and mutual attachment.
Vanessa had only a few moments for contemplation before the scrape of footsteps behind her warned her that she was not alone. She turned to see a gentleman weaving toward her-the elder son of a local squire whose name she couldn’t recall. He was more than a little foxed, it seemed. When he reached her side, he favored her with a leering grin and leaned heavily against the stone rail of the balcony.
“Ah, m’lady,” he said, slurring his words. ““Tis my good fortune to find you alone.”
“I was about to return to the ballroom,” Vanessa replied, not eager to encourage familiarity.
“Pray don’t go.” He placed a restraining hand on her arm. “Since Lord Sin has abandoned you, I will be delighted to take his place. What do you say that I prove how agreeable I can be?”
“I doubt you wish to hear what I would say, sir,” she said acerbically.
When he flung a heavy arm over her shoulder, she was not alarmed as much as angered. But when he groped her breast beneath the satin decolletage, Vanessa recoiled.
He refused to let her go, even when she tried to twist out of his embrace. With a muttered oath, he tightened his hold on her arm, surprising a cry of pain from her.
Then suddenly Damien was there, yanking her assailant away and hauling him up short by the cravat.
“I suggest you offer the lady an apology at once, Henry,” Damien ordered coldly, his grip tightening.
Giving a choking sound, the young man nodded. When Damien released him, he staggered back, clutching his throat and breathing harshly as he stammered out an apology.
“Now you may take yourself home. No, the stables are that way,” Damien added, indicating the stone steps leading down from the terrace.
When Henry had stumbled away into the night, Damien turned to Vanessa, who stood rubbing her arm where her inebriated assailant’s grasp had bruised it.
“Are you all right?”
She fixed her gaze on him, shock still flowing through her. Her late husband might have dragged her through any number of scandals, but until tonight no man had ever treated her so disrespectfully. Because of Damien, she was now vulnerable to any number of indignities.
Her resentment flared. He must have known when he made her his mistress that her reputation would not survive. Indeed, that no doubt had been his goal in the first place.
“All right? But, of course! I am quite accustomed to defending myself against physical assaults. I’m overjoyed to have been made a byword, a target for any drunken fool who chooses to accost me.” If her accusation held any injustice, she was too angry to acknowledge it.
“Would you like to go now?” Damien asked quietly.
“Certainly I would, but I shall endure the rest of the evening. To leave now would be to admit defeat, and I am not craven.”
Her chin lifting, Vanessa swept past him through the doors to the ballroom, ignoring the questioning glances of several guests who had gathered to watch the spectacle.
She spent the next hours pretending she was not at the center of a brewing scandal. By the time Damien ordered the carriage, however, she had regained at least a semblance of composure and managed to feign an attitude of cool disdain.
Neither of them spoke much on the journey home.
“I was wrong to insist you come here tonight with me,” Damien said at last, breaking the brittle silence.
“It was a mistake,” Vanessa agreed coolly. “My presence only lent credence to the notion that we are lovers.”
“I’m sorry you were subjected to such boorish treatment.”
“Are you? I would have thought you’d be pleased. Isn’t this precisely the retribution you wanted? My ruination for your sister’s?”
Damien hardened his jaw, feeling a sharp stab of guilt. He had cared nothing about Vanessa’s reputation, at least in the beginning. But that was a long time ago. Now he could only regret the insults she would doubtless suffer because of him.
If he had any nobility, he would set Vanessa free of her obligation to him. But he couldn’t bring himself to be so noble, not yet.
“The damage is not irreparable, at least,” he observed.
“Is it not? And how do you recommend we repair it? I cannot see the situation changing for the rest of the summer, and then it can only grow worse. I’m under your protection now, but the instant I leave here, I will be known as one of your cast-off lovers.”
“Not if you are the one to break off the relationship. In fact, it will lend you a certain cachet to have spurned me. When our association has ended, I shall put it about that I fell out of your favor.”
Vanessa bit back a retort, knowing no one would believe that unlikely version of events. “I suppose I should be grateful for that small consideration,” she said finally, her tone more caustic than she intended.
His gray gaze held hers. “You are free to walk away now, if you choose.”
“And my mother and sisters will suffer for it,” Vanessa replied bitterly. “Thank you, my lord, but I shall fulfill the terms of our bargain to the letter.”
Chapter Twelve
“Vanessa, I am on tenterhooks to discover what happened at the ball,” Olivia demanded the following morning as her invalid chair was pushed into the bedchamber by a female servant.
Not yet fully awake, Vanessa repressed a sigh and rolled over. She winced at the bright light that flooded the room as the draperies were parted.
“I’ve brought you breakfast,” Olivia added insistently as another maid settled a tray on a table. “I thought you might eat while you tell me about last night.”
Realizing she would get no peace until she satisfied the girl’s curiosity, Vanessa sat up in bed and settled back against the pillows. Despite the delicious aroma of warm scones, she had no appetite, but she accepted a cup of chocolate and stirred it while mentally debating how much to tell Olivia about last night’s disaster.