“Lady Rosamond has now married Dr. Fellowes,” Vaughn said. “Lady Montrose attended her daughter’s wedding, and they have repaired their rift.”
“Which wouldn’t have been the case, should Vaughn not have unselfishly helped them,” Edward said.
“I’ve had time to think about it. It does seem a decent gesture on your part. Although a cause I would most certainly not have taken up,” Chaloner said with a shake of his head. “However, I’ve written to the solicitor. You money is to be released from the trust. It will be available when you require it.”
Vaughn stared unbelievingly at Edward. Then, with a cry of joy, he slapped Chaloner on the back when he rose from his chair.
“You’ll always be a bit unconventional, Vaughn.” Chaloner smiled. “Father appreciated that quality in you. Lying in his bed on that last sad evening, he told me he fully expected that, once you’d matured and employed your energy and spirit to a good cause, you would rise higher than any of us.”
For a moment, the room spun. “Father said that?” Vaughn clutched a chair back at the surge of emotion.
“What’s all the commotion about?” Lavinia came into the room. “The house has only just quieted down after this morning’s news.”
Vaughn and Edward turned to her. “What news? What’s occurred?” Vaughn asked.
A smile lit their sister-in-law’s blue eyes. “Your mother has announced she is to marry Lord Whitworth.”
“How splendid! Celebrations are in order,” Vaughn said as good feelings warmed him through. “I’ll walk over to the dower house.”
Vaughn found his mother organizing the maid’s packing of her trunk. She hugged him. “I’m so glad to see you, Vaughn. I believe you have quite a bit to tell me.”
“As do you, Mama. When are you to be married?”
She smiled. His mother looked younger, sprightlier. It was in the way she held her head and moved easily about the room, as if she’d forgotten all about her lumbago. “A simple tying of the knot in London. Whitworth has arranged it. I believe Lady Montrose and her daughter are there?”
Vaughn told her of Rosamond’s marriage.
“Unwise perhaps, but you acted unselfishly, Vaughn,” she said. “You have a sense of honor, which I expect in my sons. I’ve never been disappointed.” She fiddled with the feathers on a hat that had been sitting beside the open trunk. “What about this dreadful business concerning Faith?”
“Warne resides in prison. I am about to ask Faith to marry me. Do I have your wishes?”
“Oh my dear son, of course you do.”
“It’s hardly a fait accompli, however. I need to convince Faith’s father I’ll make her a good husband. And then, well, she may not want to marry me.”
“I can’t say what Baxendale might do. A difficult man at best, but Faith does love you, Vaughn. I’ve been aware of it for some time.”
“I pray you’re right,” he said, raking his hands through his hair. “I love her.”
She smiled. “Then why are you here telling me? Go to her.”
****
Vaughn and Edward arrived at Highland Manor to be greeted by the family’s questioning faces. They had all gathered in the parlor, scornful Lord Baxendale, delicate Lady Baxendale, and Faith, pale and quiet, searching his eyes for answers. Honor smiled a welcome to her husband while Charity and Mercy greeted them cheerfully from the window seat, the cat and the dog at their feet.
“What have you to say for yourself, Winborne?” Baxendale stood with his legs apart in front of the fire.
“Mr. Warne has been dealt with, sir.” Vaughn fought to remain calm. Edward had warned him that Baxendale could be unpredictable and may not give him a chance to put his case.
“You might tell me why you considered it more important to rush off to London, rather than make good your promise to this family?”
“I should like to speak with you alone on the matter, sir.”
“Eh? Very well.”
In Lord Baxendale’s study, at Edwards’s advice, Vaughn declined to sit, although the earl had done so. “Don’t let him look down on you.” Edward had advised on the ride over from Brandreth Park. However, Vaughn knew what the man’s Achilles’ heel was, for all his bluster.
Irritated, Baxendale glared up at Vaughn from his desk. “I am listening. What have you to say for your actions? Surely this matter with Warne took precedence?”
“I was faced with a difficult decision when I learnt of Lady Rosamond’s elopement. It seemed best to write to Edward and urge him to meet me in London while I took Lady Montrose there.” Vaughn folded his arms. “I couldn’t leave the good lady distressed and alone. If she failed to repair her relationship with her daughter before Rosamond and the doctor married, it might have been an estrangement of some long standing.” Vaughn eyed Baxendale. Had his tense shoulders eased a little? “Your daughter is safe from that scoundrel Warne now, my lord. Surely, that should be your main concern.”
Baxendale leaned his arms on the desk. “My daughters are my constant concern.”
“I don’t envy you having to settle five determined young ladies,” Vaughn said with sympathy.
“This business with Warne is already spoken of in the village. A scandal is brewing.”
“Any gossip will die away once Faith and I marry.”
Baxendale puffed out a breath. “You, Winborne? I am not prepared to countenance a man of your reputation with no estate or decent income to offer her. ”
“I now have my inheritance, sir. It’s enough for Faith and me to live comfortably.” Vaughn changed tack. “I agree that Faith could do far better than me. But I will dedicate my life to making her happy. I love her very much, you see.”
Lord Baxendale lifted a brow. “I’ve seen little sign that she loves you.”
“That is something I must ask her.”
Baxendale leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his girth.
While Baxendale wavered, Vaughn pressed his suit. “Do I have your permission to speak to Faith, sir?”
Baxendale heaved a sigh. “You have it.”
Vaughn may not warm to his father-in-law, but he did understand a father’s concern for their child’s future.
Vaughn found Faith in the salon. Her welcome was subdued, and his heart thudded as he asked her to take a turn around the garden. “I have something to ask you.”
He took Faith’s small hand in his, and they walked through the gardens while he explained about Rosamond’s marriage. They sat on a garden seat under a golden elm spilling its bright leaves over the grass.
Faith looked troubled when she searched his face. “Do you regret that Rosamond married the doctor?”
“No, my love. Rosamond asked me to pay court to her while she met her doctor in secret. Being party to a ruse never sat well with me, but Rosamond is an impassioned, persuasive woman.”
“Oh.” Faith’s blue eyes cleared. She nodded slowly. “I understand now why she asked me to make sure you came to the ball.”
“She has married, so all is well with her.” His gaze sought hers. “Every woman should have the right to choose the man she loves. Don’t you agree?”
She put her hand to his cheek, her eyes grew soft. “I do.”
“I don’t intend to spend the afternoon discussing Rosamond.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Faith, I love you desperately,” he said, his voice husky. “I need to know if you love me.”
Her lips trembled. “Oh, Vaughn, how could you not know I love you? I’ve always loved you.”
“Is that true, my love? When I saw you again after two years, I thought you’d want a better fellow than me.”
“I tried not to love you, but you remained lodged in my heart, and I couldn’t help comparing you to every man I met.”
Amazed, Vaughn raised his brows. “And you will marry me?” He sobered, knowing he must make Faith understand what marrying him would mean. “Sweetheart, would you want to live on a farm, with a husband who bree
ds horses? I can’t promise you we’ll spend every Season attending balls in London. I shall always be passionately committed to you, but my business will take me on long trips to foreign climes to obtain horses, to Tattersall’s auctions, and often to the races. ”
“And if I say it doesn’t suit me?” She tilted her head with an impish smile. “You would choose your horses over me?”
Vaughn laughed and slipped an arm around her shoulders, noticing, with a good deal of satisfaction, how perfect her curvaceous body fitted against his. “I suppose, if you prefer to live in London, we could manage….”
“Fool.” She chuckled and rested her head against his chest, her arms sliding around his waist. “I shall enjoy working beside you,” she murmured against his waistcoat. “I don’t care a jot about London balls.”
Vaughn drew back to search her eyes. “When I first saw you that day in the wood, you took my breath away. I’ve been breathless with need for you ever since.”
“I might be more inclined to believe you,” she said as she pressed her warm, rounded breasts against him and raised her lovely face in invitation, “If you kissed me.”
“My love!” His heart thudded as he cupped her chin in his hand and pressed his mouth down on hers.
****
In the parlor, the family crowded around them. “I’m so glad you’re marrying Vaughn,” Charity said with a smile of approval, “and not one of those dull men who courted you.”
“That’s enough, my girl,” Lord Baxendale said. “I say we all celebrate with a glass of wine.” He motioned to the footman standing by the door.
While Edward talked to Vaughn, Honor drew Faith away. “I am thrilled, dearest,” Honor said. “I prayed for this.”
“I didn’t know you felt that way. You kept your own counsel, Honor.”
“After I saw what a good man he’d become, I knew you two must be together. But I feared that too much stood in the way of it.”
“Edward didn’t seem keen,” Faith said.
“He confessed to me that he thought you were perfectly suited. But the odds seemed so much against it. He didn’t want either of you to suffer heartbreak.”
Faith glanced across at the tall, handsome man who was to be her husband. An excited thrill settled in the pit of her stomach. “I can’t believe it, Honor. I’ve loved Vaughn forever.”
Honor hugged her. “You’ve always known your own mind, dearest.”
The wine served, her father raised his glass. “To Faith and Vaughn.”
“This is quite the most perfect day,” Mercy said to Faith as she stroked the cat spread out in the waning patch of sunlight on the window seat. “I shall have my own wonderful husband in a few years. I do hope he’s as handsome as Vaughn.”
“Of course he will be,” Faith said.
Mercy scowled. “There are no more Brandreth men left.”
“That’s unfortunate. But there are many wonderful men in England, Mercy.”
“I hope I’m pretty enough,” Mercy whispered, her eyes filled with doubt.
“How could you not be, silly? You’re pretty now.”
“I have freckles! My nose is improving. Don’t you agree? The apparatus is working.”
Faith laughed. “Your nose is perfect as it is, goose.”
A clattering of wheels sounded from the carriageway. A big black carriage drawn by four plumed horses pulled up outside the front door.
“Who is that?” Charity ran to join them at the window.
“It’s Hope!” Mercy yelled. “And Aunt Amelia. They’ve come home from Paris.”
“Just in time for the wedding,” Lady Baxendale cried, rushing to the door.
Vaughn came to stand by Faith. His arm around her, they followed the rest of the family out the door. A footman was assisting Aunt Amelia from the carriage.
Hope gave the servant her hand and stepped down. Faith stared. This sophisticated young woman looked very different to her young sister who’d left them six months ago.
Dressed in a dark teal blue silk-satin coat with an ermine shawl looped over her arms, Hope stood smiling at them, her amber-streaked blonde hair artfully arranged beneath an extravagant hat.
“Oh how well you all look,” Hope cried, her cream leather gloves at her cheeks. “What a lovely welcoming committee.”
“We didn’t know you were to arrive today,” Charity said. “I like the color of that coat.”
“I’ve never seen blue half boots like those.” Mercy gazed at Hope’s suede leather footwear with large rosettes on the toes. “I hope you brought me some perfumed oil. I’m preparing a new lotion.”
Hope now approached her eighteenth birthday and was so poised she seemed like a stranger to Faith.
“I have brought you all fabulous presents. The Parisian shops quite eclipse anything we have in London,” Hope said. “Vaughn! I didn’t expect you to be here.” She hugged them one by one. “I have so much to tell you. I’m literally bursting with news.” She turned to her aunt, who was locked in conversation with Lady Baxendale. “But Aunt Amelia is desperate for a cup of tea, and I long to sit on something soft. The coach squabs have bruised me in an unmentionable place.”
Faith laughed. For all Hope’s newly acquired sophistication, her sister was still a Baxendale.
Chapter Eighteen
Vaughn followed his bride into the inn’s bedchamber. He wanted her so much and still found it difficult to believe she was his. Faith had come into his life and rescued him. He’d been lost, thumbing his nose at convention, even to the point of considering marrying someone he didn’t love and being cut adrift from society.
Although he’d had a fair bit of experience with women, and was hardly a callow youth, he discovered he was nervous. “Did you really throw away the flower I gave you after I helped you down from the tree?
Faith’s head was bent over her pelisse as she worked at the fastenings. “I have the wildflower still. It’s pressed in my Bible.”
“Ah! Proof that your feelings for me have never waned.”
“They remained constant, my lord. Will that give you a big head?”
He took over the job of removing her outer garment and threw it on a chair. “No, it fills me with joy, my sweet wife. To be honest, I tucked you away in a corner of my heart that very day.”
She raised a skeptical brow. “You did?”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Vaughn,” she breathed. “Whether that’s true or not, it’s a wonderful thought.”
“Believe me, it’s true.”
She smiled shyly. “I want to believe you.”
“Well, believe me in this.” He pulled her hard against him, his hands on her bottom. “I plan to take care of you when you get yourself into tight spots. From now on.”
She wriggled out of his grasp. “There you go again. When have I ever got myself into tight spots?”
Vaughn huffed out a laugh. “I don’t feel inclined to discuss it at this moment; it will keep me from my purpose.”
“What purpose is that?” she asked in a breathy voice as he cupped her face in his hand and lowered his mouth to hers.
A knock came at the door.
“Damnation!” Vaughn, muttered, his gaze locked with Faith’s. He sighed, and his hand dropped away. “Enter.”
The innkeeper came in with a bottle of wine and two glasses on a tray. “For the newlyweds,” he said with a jolly smile. “Compliments of the establishment. Should you require the services of a maid, my lady?”
“No, I’ll manage. Thank you, sir.”
As soon as the door closed behind the proprietor, Vaughn stripped away Faith’s violet carriage gown. The fabric pooled at her feet, and she stepped out of it. Her petticoats quickly followed. In her white chemise and corset, her long legs incased in stockings with blue bows, she quite took his breath away. Her movements were composed as she scooped up the gown and added it to the chair, but when she turned to him, excitement and anticipation turned her eyes deep violet.
Vaughn’s groin tightened as he kissed the silky skin of her shoulder. His breath erratic, his hands trembled as he unlaced the corset.
Moments later, Faith stood before him naked, her nipples the color of strawberries, which he had to kiss.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, burrowing his face in the soft mounds while running his hands down her spine, over the curve of her hips. His thumbs caressed her nipples into aching hardness. He took a nipple in his mouth, which firmed under his tongue, and sucked greedily, drawing a moan from her.
When she moaned and clutched his shoulders, he lifted her and laid her on the bed.
He began to pull off his clothes, sitting on the bed to reef off his boots. Valets were handy people, he thought, vexed. He’d declined Chaloner’s offer of one. There would be servants aplenty at Brandreth Court in London. The house had been opened for them.
“Shall I help you?”
“If you would.” Vaughn leaned back and enjoyed the sight of Faith kneeling at his feet, naked. It conjured up all sorts of possibilities for the future, and he liked that she wasn’t self-conscious about her body.
His boots gone, he stripped to the skin while Faith watched from the bed.
“My goodness!” she said in an awed tone. “I never knew that men had such big….”
“You’ve seen Greek statues. You told me so,” Vaughn said with a laugh.
“None that looked like you,” she said breathlessly. Her eyes danced, and she put her hands to her cheeks, which had turned pink.
With a burst of male pride, he joined her on the bed, hard and ready. He felt triumphant, incredulous that this lovely woman was now his wife, and passionately stroked down her soft body, determined to rein in his passion and be gentle. “My love.”
****
Faith woke to sunlight rimming the curtains. A big, warm body lay beside her in the bed. Her wedding night had been better than her dreams, which were sketchy at best. Vaughn was a considerate and knowledgeable lover. How could he sleep now, with her beside him? Wanting him to wake, she pulled down the blanket and ran a hand over the hard wall of his chest, soft hair tickling her palm. When he grumbled in sleep, she poked him gently in his broad rib cage.
Lady Faith Takes a Leap Page 12
