He gave her an arch look. “Certainly not. I’ve been too occupied to break free even for a moment. I’ve found a position of employment.”
Vanessa stared. “You must be jesting.”
Aubrey winced but flashed a grin. “It is a sad state of affairs when my own dear sister won’t believe me. But it’s true. I’ve taken a real job with the rich cit who bought Brantly Hall-a Mr. Jonah Goodwine. He’s to be awarded a baronetcy soon, and he aspires to the gentry. I’m to teach him how to be a gentleman.”
Vanessa shook her head. She couldn’t have been more astonished if Aubrey claimed to have proof he’d flown to the moon and back.
“I am acting as Goodwine’s private secretary,” Aubrey explained, “but, fortunately, the role is more one of social adviser, since I’m not of a scholarly bent. Goodwine thinks it’s a great coup to have a viscount in his employ. What, Van?” he teased. “Have I startled you speechless?”
“You have indeed,” she replied finally, with bewilderment. “Whatever possessed you to take such a step?”
Her brother’s laughing eyes grew serious. “The hope that gainful employment will prove to be the making of me. You’ve always said I should find something worth-while to occupy me and keep me out of trouble. Perhaps this is my chance. It’s long past time I grew up and fulfilled my responsibilities, instead of expecting you always to bail me out. And, financially, the position is extremely rewarding. I’m to be given an exorbitant salary, and in time I should be able to pay off my creditors.”
He looked down at his hands, while his voice lowered. “It was unforgivable of me, putting you in such an untenable position-having to share Sinclair’s bed in order to save us. I know I can never repay you for what you’ve done for me, Van, but I intend to do everything in my power to prove worthy of your sacrifice.”
Vanessa felt an ache rise to her throat. Her scapegrace brother seemed entirely serious about turning his life around. Certainly his efforts thus far were laudable… Now if he could just maintain his course.
She kept her tone light when she answered. “I believe there might be hope for you yet.”
He nodded soberly. “I mean to try to regain Olivia’s good opinion, if I can. I may have destroyed any possibility of winning her regard, but I wish to remain close to her. Brantly Hall is but ten miles from here, so I may still visit upon occasion-at least in secret. As long as Sinclair never finds out. And as long as Olivia consents to see me.”
His admission made Vanessa recall the issue his startling news had driven out of her head. “Aubrey, that reminds me: I’m traveling to London tomorrow with Sinclair.”
Aubrey frowned. “Is that not a trifle… indiscreet? It is one thing for you to live here at his estate where you’re companion to his sister, but to be living with him in town…”
“I don’t intend to stay with him, but in our own house. We should be away for a few days, but I think it best if you kept away from Olivia during that time.”
“Why?”
She met her brother’s brown eyes directly. “I haven’t prevented your visits because they seemed to have a positive effect on Olivia. But you’ve been strictly chaperoned the entire time. It wouldn’t be wise for you to be alone with her. I don’t want you hurting her any more than you already have.”
She saw the pain in his eyes. “You still don’t trust me, do you? I love her, Vanessa. I would cut out my heart before I hurt her again.”
Vanessa hesitated. Until now, she had been highly skeptical of her brother’s professions of love, but perhaps his heart truly was engaged. If so, then did she have a right to prevent a connection that might lead to Olivia’s happiness? Aubrey’s suit might progress better without her interference after all…
“What does Olivia want?” he interrupted in low voice.
“I don’t know. I haven’t spoken with her about you lately.”
“Then ask her. If she wants me to keep away, I will.” Aubrey rose to his feet. “I know it must be hard for you to credit, after all I’ve put you through, but I truly have reformed.”
Vanessa sat there long after he was gone, deeply conflicted by what her brother had said.
It was possible that true love could reform a man, and apparently that was what had happened to her brother. Driven by love for Olivia, he had taken stock of his life, found it profoundly wanting, and vowed to change.
And if her wastrel brother could undergo such a stark transformation, could someone like Damien Sinclair do the same?
Damien was a jaded libertine, perhaps, but not nearly as wanton and decadent as she’d originally thought. He wasn’t totally wicked. No one who saw his deep regard for his sister could believe him beyond redemption.
Still, he could be so much more, do so much more with his life. With his wealth and position, he could accomplish a vast deal of good. But he would need a reason to change. She held little hope that the unattainable Lord Sin would ever lose his heart to her, or any other woman. He would never allow it. Unless…
At the thought of Damien falling in love, yearning sprang up in Vanessa, so sudden and sharp it frightened her. Relentlessly, though, she forced the treacherous feeling aside. She couldn’t afford nonsensical romantic dreams.
No, the best she could hope for was a swift end to their relationship. It was time she went to London, time she attempted to fix the attentions of a wealthy admirer.
Only then could she move on with her life. Only then could she try to forget she had ever known the magical enchantment of the wicked Lord Sin.
The journey to London was pleasant enough, if Vanessa overlooked Damien’s growing remoteness as the drive wore on. He gave her little time to rest upon arriving. When he conveyed her directly to the Rutherford town house, she made do with the skeleton staff to bathe and change her attire.
An hour later he escorted her to a play at the Drury Lane Theatre, and then to the Green Room afterward, so that she could observe how the actresses made assignations with young bucks vying for their favors. Afterward he returned her home with scarcely a word.
The next night they made the rounds of the gaming hells, where high-stakes gambling was de rigueur.
“It would be wise of you,” Damien advised, “to learn the rules of various games of chance. If your patron holds a fondness for cards, you might spend many of your evenings in establishments such as this.”
Vanessa felt her heart twist in her chest, not due so much to the future Damien envisioned for her, as to his evident indifference. His gaze seemed flat and cold, his tenderness nonexistent. She found it difficult to hide her despair, yet she forced herself to keep up the bright pretense of enjoying their outings.
The following evening they attended a masquerade ball, where she could watch the flirtations of not-quite-respectable ladies and their chosen victims-to see how a straw damsel in search of a protector flashed her fine feathers so as to make the best possible arrangement.
The object of these excursions, Damien maintained, was to show her the life she would lead as a member of the demimonde. It was an elegant shadow world of passion and pleasure, a debauched realm in which he moved with as much ease as he did the glittering, golden arena of the ton. It seemed a mirror image of polite society; here gentlemen remained faithful to their mistresses, and wives were held in relatively low esteem.
To make her aware of the dangers inherent in her new profession, Damien also gave her a glimpse of Covent Garden, the notorious site of the lucrative flesh trade of the lower orders. Vanessa saw procuresses who looked as innocent as nuns and common streetware whose lives were often short and violent.
She counted herself fortunate that while she had chosen to sell herself to the highest bidder, it was her choice, under conditions of luxury and independence.
She was fortunate, as well, to have Damien as her tutor.