“It isn’t that simple,” Damien returned through gritted teeth.
“No?” Vanessa paused, her own ire softening. “If my refusal angers you, it’s only because you’ve always been accustomed to having your own way. But some day you will count yourself fortunate to have escaped my clutches.”
For the second time in several days, she turned and walked away from him, this time leaving him alone in the quiet chamber.
With a curse, Damien flung himself into a chair. He was indeed jealous, but jealousy wasn’t the only primal emotion he felt for Vanessa.
Damn her, why did he feel this fever, this desperate hunger only with her?
Damien swore again. He had meant only to seduce her, not cherish and desire her. The devil of it was, he was the one who had been seduced. She had crept beneath his defenses, even as he’d tried to shatter hers. He wanted her until he ached with it.
But wanting her, it seemed, was not enough. For her… or for himself.
Chapter Eighteen
Vanessa stood at the window of her bedchamber, staring blindly down at the rose gardens. Had she made a terrible mistake, refusing Damien’s offer of marriage?
In the three days since his startling proposal, she’d asked herself that question a hundred times, going over and over every nuance of their conversation, every subtlety of emotion in his expression and tone of voice.
She hadn’t found what she’d longed to see. Not even a hint of love. And without love, a marriage between them would be doomed.
Damien would never be content to settle down with one woman, to give up his life as a rakehell. Love alone might have the power to change him, but he didn’t love her. That was the harsh, bitter truth.
Vanessa let out a deep sigh. Summer was almost at an end. Her term as his mistress was almost over. Then she would be free to go and take her own wounded heart with her. Free to start rebuilding her life. Free to begin the struggle of trying to forget Damien…
A rapid knock on her bedchamber door interrupted her melancholy thoughts. At her bidding, a footman entered, bearing a silver salver.
“Beg pardon, milady, but a carriage has come with this message for you from Lord Clune.”
Vanessa wondered why Clune would be writing to her, unless it involved Damien. Damien had driven to his friends’ hunting box early this morning for some dove shooting…
Curiously Vanessa broke the seal and read:
Lady Wyndham-Do not be alarmed, but I fear Sinclair has met with a minor accident. The doctor has been sent for, but Sin is calling for you. My carriage is at your disposal. I pray you will come shortly.
Panic seized her as she pictured Damien lying wounded, his lifeblood seeping from his body. Her hand went to her throat where her heart had lodged. She couldn’t bear the thought of his death. She couldn’t.
“I must go to him,” she breathed hoarsely.
She had the presence of mind at least to fetch a pelisse and to tell the footman she was going to join Lord Sinclair, before running down the stairs and out the front door to the waiting carriage.
They set a rapid pace, without stopping to change horses. Even so Vanessa deplored the delay. She couldn’t control her dread or the dark images assaulting her. She kept remembering her final view of her husband when they’d brought his body home the morning of the duel. The fatal bullet wound in his chest, the blood… Clune’s message said Damien’s accident was minor, but she couldn’t rest easy until she assured herself that he wasn’t dying.
It was nearly an hour before the carriage turned off the country lane onto a gravel drive flanked by thick woods. Finally they halted before a large manor house. Vanessa scarcely noted the secluded setting as she climbed down from the carriage without assistance.
She nearly ran up the steps to the front entrance, and was supremely grateful when the door swung open to reveal Lord Clune himself.
“Damien, how is he?” she demanded breathlessly.
The smile Clune gave her was reassuring as he drew her into the house. “Well enough, my lady. He is upstairs resting comfortably.”
“May I see him?”
“But, of course.”
He led her through the elegant foyer, up a wide flight of steps to a long hallway. They passed numerous rooms, to which Vanessa paid no mind. At the end of the hall, Clune opened a door and stood aside to let her enter.
Anxiously, she took three steps and came to an abrupt halt. The large bed that dominated the room was empty. Damien was nowhere to be seen.
“Where is he?” she asked in confusion.
“He is still out with the hunting party, I would imagine.”
When she turned to give Clune a questioning look, his smile was apologetic. “I must beg your indulgence, Lady Wyndham. I hope you won’t object to being my guest for a short while.”
“I… don’t understand.”
“I plan to play a prank on my good friend Damien, and your presence is necessary.”
“A prank? Then… he hasn’t been wounded?”
“No, not at all. I’m afraid that was merely a ruse to bring you here.”
Relief flooded Vanessa, followed swiftly by anger and alarm. “I trust you mean to tell me why you require my presence?”
Clune flashed another smile, one full of disarming charm. “You needn’t fear me, I assure you. You won’t come to the least harm. I intend this to be a good-natured jest.”
When she made to leave the room, however, he remained in the doorway, blocking her path.
“You mean to keep me here against my will?”
Clune shrugged. “Only for a short while. Damien should be returning any moment now.”
“He won’t be happy to find me here.”
“I don’t doubt it,” the earl agreed easily. “But the opportunity is too priceless to resist. Sin is long overdue for a public humbling.” Clune surveyed her for a moment. “I suppose it is asking too much for you to play along with me?”
“It is indeed,” Vanessa replied, furious at his insensibility.
“You are angry,” he commented almost sadly.
“Surely that doesn’t surprise you. First you frighten me half to death by lying, allowing me to believe Sinclair wounded, perhaps mortally. Now you tell me I must remain as your prisoner.”
“I’m afraid so. But it is only in fun.”
“I don’t find your idea of fun humorous in the least, my lord.” She took a deep breath. “If you allow me to return home, I will say nothing of this to anyone, least of all Damien.”
“Alas, that would destroy my well-laid plan.”
“Just precisely what is your plan?”
“To compel Sin to show his hand. More precisely, to test the depth of his attachment to you.”
“His attachment?”
“All these years he’s vowed he would never give his heart. As recently as this week he denied being smitten. But I believe that the mighty Lord Sin has fallen, and I mean to prove it. I intend to make him admit his feelings for you before the Hellfire League.”
“You are either a fool, or you are mad!”
Clune brandished that sensual smile again. “Perhaps a bit of both. But I should think you of all people would be keenly interested in the outcome. Don’t you wish to know if you’ve managed to capture his heart?”
“No! Certainly not in this manner.”
“I know of no other way to bring him to the sticking point. And, truly, I am acting for his own sake. If Sin is deceiving himself, he is better off realizing it. I have a simple scenario in mind that should shock him into revealing his true feelings.”
Vanessa eyed Clune warily. “So I am to be the bait in your trap?”
“Precisely. At gatherings such as these, the entertainment is usually of a carnal nature. I will simply intimate to Sin that you are to be the prime attraction for the evening and see how he reacts. I doubt that he will be able to conceal his jealousy.”
“He is apt to be more enraged by your trick than jealous.”