Samantha Kane (15 page)

as she. “Another great disappointment for this family. Because of

your failure to secure Ashland, we shal be forced to aly

ourselves with a mere baron.”

A baron! Vanessa nearly gaped in astonishment. Oh, this was

bad indeed. She’d expected some ancient Bavarian duke, at the

very least. Marriage or not, she’d be a virtual outcast from the

rest of the family as the wife of a mere baron.

“I shal send for you when Lord Wetherald gets here. You are

dismissed.”

And that was that, Vanessa thought wearily as she got to her

feet. Her father was already reading some correspondence,

having ended their conversation. It was also the end to al her

hopes and dreams, which it seemed she had been harboring

despite her own warnings. What a foolish, foolish girl she was.

“How do you do, Lady Vanessa?” Lord Wetherald said politely

as he bowed over her hand.

He was unexceptional. Not offensive in any way, simply one of

the hundreds of wel-dressed gentlemen out and about London

each day, too involved with his own business to smile at the

world as he passed. He had unremarkable light-brown hair of

which one section had the unfortunate tendency to fal across his

forehead—ruining the sartorial perfection of his appearance—

and light-blue eyes, which looked rather tired. He was neither tal

nor short, fat nor thin. In other words, unexceptional. The only

thing that set him apart, Vanessa supposed, was his mustache

and beard, which were not al that fashionable. He had the look

of a cavalier from an earlier century.

“How do you do,” she murmured politely. She glided over and

took a seat on the sofa in front of the window, directly in the

middle to avoid his trying to sit next to her. A very long night of

thinking about marriage to a stranger had made her even more

thinking about marriage to a stranger had made her even more

averse to the idea.

“Lady Vanessa is aware of our plans, Wetherald,” her father

said, surprising her. His comment bordered on rudeness, which

was quite uncharacteristic of him.

“Excelent,” Lord Wetherald said after a short but noticeable

silence. “Then I trust it is permissible to ask to speak with her

alone?”

Vanessa turned away quickly so he wouldn’t see her dismay,

which she was sure showed in her wide eyes and nervous

swalow.

“Of course,” her father said. “The sooner, the better, I say. No

sense prolonging the inevitable, eh?” His joviality was so forced

it was painful for Vanessa to hear. He knew she was unhappy

with this match. Damn him for forcing it on her. She glared

daggers at his back as he hastily left the room. The door was left

slightly ajar for propriety’s sake, and it was on the tip of

Vanessa’s tongue to tel him not to bother.

Vanessa took great care in smoothing out her skirt so it fel just

right along the edge of the sofa. Then she clasped her hands in

her lap and sat very stil.

“Lady Vanessa,” Lord Wetherald finaly said quietly. She

flinched at the sound of his voice and he sighed. “I realize that we are virtual strangers, but surely you must know that your father

would never approve my suit if he did not find me above

reproach. You have nothing to fear from me.”

That did make Vanessa raise her eyes to meet his gaze. “I am

not afraid of you, sir, but rather…uneasy over the circumstances

of this meeting.”

He looked surprised by her calm response. “Uneasy? In what

way?”

“As you said, we are strangers, and yet I presume you are here

to reach the conclusive end of a non-existent suit.”

He ran his hand contemplatively over his beard. “You presume

correctly. I was led to believe by your father that you would

welcome my proposal.”

“I wil, of course, do as my father wishes,” she replied. It wasn’t

a lie, though it was far from an affirmation.

“Whether or not it is your wish as wel?” he asked wryly. Before

she could answer, he walked over and quietly closed the door.

“Wel,” he continued, “that is too bad. I’m not sure I wish to

marry a woman who cares so little about happiness.”

Vanessa grew wary. She may not want the marriage, but her

father would never tolerate it if she drove his chosen suitor away.

father would never tolerate it if she drove his chosen suitor away.

She realy didn’t know what he’d do if Wetherald cried off.

“You misunderstand me, my lord,” she corrected him. “I wil

marry you if it comes to that.” Though she dearly hoped it

wouldn’t come to that. “I do not know you wel yet, but I am

sure we shal suit if my father favors the match.”

“Do I misunderstand? So you wish to marry me, above al things,

even duty?”

Vanessa frowned. “Now you are playing games with me, my

lord. I do not like games.”

“This is no game, Lady Vanessa,” Wetherald said quietly. “It is

our future you toy with. Tel me now, what is your heart’s

desire?”

“My heart’s desire, my lord? What an odd notion! As if my heart

feels separately from my head. I assure you, my lord, I have felt

no desire that I have not imagined first.” Unbidden, memories of

her night with Oliver and Nick came crashing through her

composure and she quickly turned away, pressing her tightly

fisted hand into her stomach as she tried to breathe through the

ache in her chest.

“You did not answer my question.” Wetherald was determined.

He walked over and planted himself firmly in her line of sight.

“Let me speak plainly. Do you desire me as a husband?”

“Let me speak plainly. Do you desire me as a husband?”

“No!” The truth burst from her in rush of emotion, and Vanessa

tried in vain to stem her tears. “But that hardly matters, does it?

Many people marry without desire. We cannot always have

what we desire, for oh so many reasons.” Wetherald shoved a

handkerchief into her hand and Vanessa noisily blew her nose.

Her celebrated decorum was dissolving faster than sugar in the

rain.

“Does your heart belong to another, Lady Vanessa?” he asked

softly. She nodded, not wiling to say it out loud for fear the

hopelessness of it al would overwhelm her.

“Then why have you not told your father? Surely he would

sympathize. He cares for you. I was not selected for you without

a great deal of scrutiny.”

Vanessa laughed bitterly. “I assure you, sir, the scrutiny was to

protect the family name and not my sensibilities.”

“He is unsuitable, then.” Wetherald took a seat next to her,

careful not to wrinkle his coat. Vanessa almost smiled. For some

reason his precise mannerisms were endearing rather than

annoying. “Does he return your feelings?”

Vanessa twisted the handkerchief in her hands as she thought

about it. Did they? She believed so. No words of love had been

exchanged, but it had been there in each word and touch during

exchanged, but it had been there in each word and touch during

their night together and the folowing day. Hadn’t she turned

away from Nick’s longing glances, and ignored the unspoken

questions lying beneath Oliver’s carefuly chosen words? She’d

tried to drive them away. Had she succeeded? It was for the

best if she had. “I don’t know,” she mumbled finaly, unable to

bear Wetherald’s patient silence any longer.

“Then marry me,” he said simply. She didn’t bother to try and

hide her shock. He smiled wryly. “You are a very desirable

match for me, Lady Vanessa,” he explained. “You come from an

influential family, have poise, breeding, inteligence and looks.

You wil be an asset in my political career, exactly what I need in

a wife. Your confessions here today only confirm my

impressions. It is one thing to love and be loved in return, but to

throw away a happy future—and I do believe we could be

happy—for an unrequited love is quite another.”

“My feelings are returned,” she said firmly, “though what good

that does us is beyond me.”

“I see.” Wetherald stared hard at her for a minute, clearly

weighing her words. She returned his look, determined he see

the truth. Finaly he nodded. “I am not ready to walk away from

such an advantageous union,” he said. Vanessa was about to

protest when he added, “Yet.”

Vanessa gathered her courage. “Then perhaps I should tel you,

Lord Wetherald, that I am very likely with child.” That was what

Lord Wetherald, that I am very likely with child.” That was what

had kept Vanessa awake al night. She hadn’t thought about it

when she was with Oliver and Nick. Not until her father

confronted her with Wetherald had she realized there might be

consequences from their ilicit passion. She hoped she was. No

matter what happened with her father or Wetherald, or Oliver

and Nick, Vanessa wanted proof she’d lived her life to the fulest

and experienced a kind of passion that came only once in a

lifetime, and even then only to a lucky few. To bear Nick or

Oliver’s child would be the greatest joy to her.

“I know you told me that believing it would end any interest I

have in a match with you,” Wetherald said after moment of

hesitation. He was frowning and suddenly rose from the sofa and

began to pace in front of her. “On the contrary, it has only

strengthened my resolve to marry you should marriage between

you and your paramour turn out to be impossible.”

“I could not ask that of you,” Vanessa said, shocked at his

uncommon chivalry. “Whatever my circumstances, they are not

your responsibility. I am not your responsibility. We’ve only just

met. You may walk away content with the knowledge that you

offered your protection. I decline it, though I thank you.”

When Wetherald turned to her, Vanessa could see the

determination in his face. She was struck with the notion that he

must be a formidable opponent in the political arena. “I must

insist on the man’s name, Lady Vanessa.”

insist on the man’s name, Lady Vanessa.”

Vanessa rose on shaky legs. “I wil not reveal it to you. You

have no responsibility here, no right to interfere.”

“I take the responsibility and my right is the right of a gentleman

to protect and defend the weaker sex. I cannot in good

conscience walk out that door and leave you defenseless in your

present circumstances. I could not do that and cal myself a

gentleman.”

Just then there was a commotion outside and the door was

thrown open. Vanessa jumped up with a gasp as Nick marched

into the room, Oliver close behind him.

“Stop them!” she heard her father thunder from the halway.

“You cannot marry him,” Nick growled angrily. “You belong

with us.”

They’d worked it al out on the way over here. The last day

without Vanessa, believing her lost forever to them, had been

torture. Nick had been so angry at the world. But then Oliver

had thought, why not? Why can’t we have her? Nick had money

and an estate, even if it was smal. Surely her father would

accept Nick’s suit if it was what Vanessa wanted. They’d been

slowly working up to it, anyway. It was as clear as day they

slowly working up to it, anyway. It was as clear as day they

were meant to be together. But they didn’t have time to go slow.

Circumstances were working against them. It wasn’t that Nick

or Oliver needed more time, but they were worried that Vanessa

might. Marriage to Nick, and a commitment to both men, was a

huge and rather scary step for a woman like Vanessa, who’d

been shielded from the cruelty of society for most of her life.

Nick had grasped this chance with determination and they’d

come without warning today to ask for her hand. Only to be

greeted by her father, who had taken them to task for leading her

astray during the frivolous Christmastide season. He’d firmly told

them she was going to marry some baron and they were not to

try to see her ever again. Without another word they’d stormed

out of his study and begun searching for her. Luckily they found

her before they were ejected from the house.

Oliver watched Vanessa as she went from shocked incredulity to

a relieved smile. “Nick!” she exclaimed. As she began to run

across the room to Nick she was stopped in her tracks by the

man her father had chosen for her. He was unprepossessing to

say the least, although the odd Van Dyke beard he wore gave

him a rather dashing, romantic look, like a cavalier from another

century. Oliver hated him on sight.

“Lady Vanessa,” the baron said firmly. “You must let your father

and me handle this.”

Nick took a menacing step toward him. “Get your hands off

Nick took a menacing step toward him. “Get your hands off

her.”

“Lord Wetherald,” she said, trying to tug her arm free. “You

must believe me when I tel you Nick would never harm me.”

The stranger shook his head. “No. Not after what you’ve told

me.”

“Explain yourself,” Nick demanded. It was one of the hardest

things Oliver had ever done to stand there and say nothing. But

they’d decided Nick must do al the talking. There must be no