The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 1

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  "Henry and I were taught to respect all women. No serving maid has ever been dismissed from our house for that reason. Ask anyone in the village. We have several wedded couples working with us, but their marriages always took place well before, rather than after, any babes were born."

  "What a relief."

  He ignored the barbed comment. "My closest friends are the same. We are after all judged by the company we keep. Debates, drink on special occasions, though never to excess, and bit of card playing, but no worse than that. In fact, Thomas Eltham, the Duke of Ellesmere, does not gamble or hunt at all, he's so strict and morally upright."

  "Can it also be said that our serving women are untainted?" she challenged pettishly.

  He gave her a sharp look, aware of the unspoken accusation, and shrugged. "So far as I know, you haven't had any for some time. Only men."

  But Gerald had said Clifford was responsible for despoiling their serving wenches...

  "What, no women at all?" she asked in surprise. She was sure Gerald had said...

  He held his gaze steady. "You would know better than myself, having been there for three weeks. So far as I am aware, there are no women working there apart from the little crippled maid.

  "Admittedly, I have not been a guest at Hawkesworth House very often in recent years. But since all the servants in the district know each other, we would all hear about the latest people being hired. There have been no women at Hawkesworth House for years except Gerald's old nanny, and her granddaughter, the hunchbacked scullery maid with the clubfoot. Your father made a special provision for her in his will that she and your nanny would always have the dower house and a pension. I know because Gerald tried to oust them from there a few years ago in order to sell the dower house, but your solicitors stopped him."

  "I see. Well, thank you for telling me. I shall speak with him and them about the matter," she said coolly, though inwardly she was terribly distressed to hear this news.

  "After you marry me, it will no longer be your affair."

  "Suffering and injustice is my affair."

  "What I meant was, it will be my affair," he said patiently. "I shall see to it all is well with the household, and with Gerald. He has had a hard time learning how to manage money. We can make him an appropriate allowance, with certain conditions attached."

  "That's exactly what I said to him the other... night," she trailed off.

  She looked away from his piercing stare, but he had caught the look of consternation which had crossed her features.

  He asked in an even tone, "What were your conditions?"

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "What were the conditions of the allowance you were offering your brother?"

  She sighed. "That he would have to make over the deed of the house to me, and live within his means in an appropriate manner fitting his prospects, and not keep spending as though he were the Prince of Wales himself."

  Clifford nodded with satisfaction. "Very good. I shall have my solicitors draw up papers to that effect, and see that he signs them before he receives one penny. Then everything will be settled, and we can be wed at once."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Vanessa sighed. If only it were so simple to quell her brother and stop him from interfering in her life and mismanaging their family affairs. "It sounds like an excellent plan, except for one thing. You're forgetting that he has the money from the card game."

  "I'm not forgetting it. But nor, I think, are all his creditors. Word has no doubt spread like wildfire that he's had a windfall. If his debts are as high as they are rumored to be, then the money will be just about gone. They will be after him as soon as they can find him."

  She nodded wearily. "It is all gone. He said he had applied it towards the mortgage. That is why I was asking for time to reimburse you."

  Clifford stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, it will be easy enough to discover if he was telling the truth about that. I fear he may not have applied as much of his windfall as he declared, and that he will go into default before anyone can intervene."

  Vanessa frowned. "I will do what I can to preserve my family home. I just need more time."

  He ventured to observe, "I do find it passing strange that though we've left word at every single house in the district, he has not come here to inquire after your health." It was not strictly true, but he wanted to gauge her reaction.

  She shrugged, as if she had not thought of it herself, and was not the least concerned in any event. "Well, perhaps he's not in the district. I would not put it past him to go off to London for a bit of pleasure-seeking."

  "That's the first time I've heard you be critical of him. Is it possible that you see his faults at last?"

  Her gaze lifted to his candidly for the first time. "It's not that I don't see them. It's just not my place to air them in public. Nor should I dwell on them. Nor should I be criticizing someone older than myself who has not had all of the advantages I have had."

  Clifford stared at her in surprise. "Indeed, my dear, he has had far more, being born a man in a man's age, and with all of the wealth and property he inherited from your father, as compared with what you have received. Your fortune is a good one, but it's been earned by both you and your aunt working hard."

  "You sound as though you admire us for it," she marveled.

  "Why should I not?"

  She shrugged one white linen clad shoulder. "Not many men of our class admire hard work. Nor do they like the idea of women owning their own property, controlling their own lives."

  "I would far rather see someone advance in the world by the sweat of their own brow than squander the family fortunes in an endless round of pleasure-seeking."

  She couldn't help but smile her approval at this remark.

  "As for the role of women, I subscribe to Mary Wollstonecraft's attitudes expressed in Vindication of the Rights of Women. They will indeed achieve equality one day, but they will need the disinterested support of men if they are ever to do so. Just as I would like to support the end of slavery, though I fear that that will be a long time coming."

  "You admire Mr. Wilberforce as well?" she asked, wide-eyed with wonder.

  "You know of his work then?" he asked, pleased.

  She nodded. "Indeed, he has been a guest in my aunt's house on several occasions."

  "Really? I met him in London and was most impressed. How did his conclusion to his speech in 1788 go?" He thought for a moment, and leaned forward in his chair toward her. "He said, 'Sir, when we think of eternity and the future consequence of all human conduct, what is there in this life that shall make any man contradict the dictates of his conscience, the principles of justice and the law of God!'"

  "Yes, that was exactly it. Now I am impressed," she admitted.

  "I'm blessed with a good memory," Clifford said modestly.

  Vanessa looked at him with even more admiration than heretofore. "And a good heart, if you believe in the struggle against slavery as ardently as I do."

  "All of we Rakehells believe in the abolition of slavery and rights for women. I hope any right-thinking human being would find slavery an abomination."

  She tried to mistrust Clifford, telling herself he was only speaking of subjects which he had discovered her to be interested in, the better to insinuate himself into her life and impress her. But she could not fault his grasp of Wilberforce's writings and arguments as they engaged in conversation on the subject for some time. He spoke so knowledgeably and passionately that she become convinced he was genuinely expressing his own true sentiments. They were so much in accord with her own, she felt a huge sense of relief.

  Perhaps she was not mad after all. Mayhap the things she had dreamt of could come to pass if wealthy men like Clifford were willing to support reform.

  The French Revolution had started out as a noble ideal, but Robespierre and one little Corsican corporal had changed all that, and plunged the whole of Europe into war.

  "Aye, true enough," Clifford argue
d, "but Bonaparte will not last forever. There will be a reaction against him, and some if not all of the freedoms which the French longed for will be achieved."

  "Yes, but at what cost?"

  "Freedom is often paid for with a heavy price. Look at the Americans."

  "You admire what they did, then?" she asked, wide-eyed.

  "I admire courage, and loathe oppression in any form. Indentured servitude and excessive taxation were just lesser forms of slavery, and we know what Wilberforce has to say about that. I regret deeply the lives lost in Europe, but we must fight against injustice and oppression, no matter where we see it."

  "And would you also then argue in favor of the principle that all human beings are created equal?" she challenged, enjoying the conversation with this compelling man, feeling more stimulated in mind and body than she ever had in her whole life.

  Clifford nodded. "What does Wollstonecraft say? 'It is vain to expect virtue from women till they are in some degree independent of men; nay, it is vain to expect that strength of natural affection which would make them good wives and mothers. Whilst they are absolutely dependent on their husbands they will be cunning, mean, and selfish. The preposterous distinction of rank, which renders civilization a curse, by dividing the world between voluptuous tyrants and cunning envious dependents, corrupts, almost equally, every class of people.'"

  "I've always admired her passage where she states, 'How many women thus waste life away the prey of discontent, who might have practiced as physicians, regulated a farm, managed a shop, and stood erect, supported by their own industry, instead of hanging their heads surcharged with the dew of sensibility, that consumes the beauty to which it at first gave lustre.' I never wanted to be one of those women wasting their life."

  He gave her a warm smile. "You shan't be, I'm sure of it."

  Without being aware of it, Vanessa had grasped his hand, and he'd moved so close to her that a small movement of his head would have brought their lips together.

  His heart hammered in his chest, and his loins went on fire. A vision of her naked in his bed, her hair and arms and legs spread gloriously for his delectation, was so powerful he could scarcely breathe.

  But much as he longed to kiss her, he knew it was too much, too soon. He sat back in the chair slowly so as not to look too embarrassed, and began to disengage his fingers from her grasp gently. "I fear I've become carried away by our most interesting discussion. I really should withdraw so that you may rest."

  He caught sight of Josephine, who was smiling at him warmly. Good God, he had even forgotten her presence, he had desired Vanessa so!

  He called down the stairs before the sick woman could protest that she was not that tired, and Henry came instantly at his brother's summons.

  "I shall see about more food for you, and visit you one more time this evening, if I may."

  "Yes, yes you may," Vanessa said almost eagerly. She gave him the first smile he had ever seen from her since he had brought her to Dr. Gold's house.

  If Clifford had had any doubts about the regard he had for Vanessa, they were assuaged when he looked upon her bright expression. If he was not already in love with the beautiful young woman, he soon would be. Perhaps the miracle of love really could happen to him after all.

  Henry and Josephine gave each other a knowing wink, and sat down close to the bedside. Henry decided he needed to have a little chat with his older brother about love later.

  Clifford went down to the dining room to partake of the cold collation that the housekeeper had set out for everyone to help themselves to whenever they liked. He rang for more broth to be sent up to Vanessa.

  Then he sat in the chair beside Malcolm, and in a low tone reiterated all he had discussed with the doctor, and the salient things which Vanessa had recounted to him about her brother and her nightmares. Finally, he reported what Henry had discovered.

  Malcolm listened patiently, his handsome face a study in intense concentration and concern.

  At the end of Clifford's narrative, he declared, "It is a tangled web indeed, my friend. I sense danger for Vanessa at every turn. I can't even bear to think what might have happened had you not decided to intervene in the card game the night before last.

  "I am so glad I could be of some service in the matter, though it did not sit well with me at the time. I was just so shocked by the whole chain of events. Now I can see that no aid I can give her can be too great, and will do whatever is necessary to protect her."

  Clifford's blue eyes glittered almost dangerously. He was shocked at the sudden surge of feeling which crushed his chest and stiffened his spine. His tone remained calm, but there was a sharp edge to it. "My dear Malcolm, if I didn't know better, I might almost think you had developed fondness for the girl."

  Malcolm shrugged, and began to blush brightly. "Who would not? She seems so innocent, so unspoiled. She's definitely lovely, and intelligent, unlike most of the vapid Society beauties I've come across."

  "You could have gambled for her and won. But I thank you for helping me. She's mine now," Clifford asserted, "and I will marry her just as soon as she'll have me."

  "Are you so sure she will?" Malcolm asked a trifle enviously.

  Clifford shook his head. "No, I'm not sure, but I mean to have her all the same. The events of the past two days have convinced me that she's the woman I've been waiting for all my life. No one else will do."

  Malcolm stared at his friend in surprise. Any thoughts he might have had about winning Vanessa for himself vanished into thin air as he looked at his old friend's grim expression. He had never heard Clifford speak thus, and knew his friend's intentions were honorable and fixed.

  For her part, Vanessa seemed taken with him as well. And if any woman was ever in need of rescuing from a wicked family, it was Vanessa.

  Malcolm gave a curt nod. "Very well. I shall help you toward your goal, as I agreed at the card table that night. I've spoken to Mr. Grayson the vicar. We'll all help with whatever arrangements you would like. I imagine that the wedding will be a quiet affair at home? After all, she is still in mourning. We would not want to run the risk of Gerald making a spectacle in front of the guests."

  "No, indeed. Any sign of him, by the way?"

  "Not a one. Father has sent out a deputy to make inquiries as to the precise nature of his illness."

  "So Gerald knows Vanessa is unwell?"

  "Yes."

  "Even if he appeared immediately as lily white as the Archangel Gabriel himself, I should not trust him have anything to do with Vanessa without being in their presence every moment. So now I must make appropriate arrangements for her. I would ask you and your sister to go over to Hawkesworth House to get some of Vanessa's personal effects, and inform the servants there that she shall not be returning for some time. Find out the name of her solicitors, and contact them, so that I may apprise them of what's happened, and ask them to call upon her here at their earliest convenience. The sooner I get their approval for the marriage to take place, the better."

  "What if they refuse to give their consent?"

  "I doubt they will, once all the facts are laid before them."

  "They might argue you are simply a fortune-hunter who has taken advantage of her," Malcolm warned.

  "I don't think so. I'm certain my character will bear up to the closest scrutiny, don't you?"

  Malcolm nodded. "It will indeed. No one who knows you well could possibly speak ill of you. Gerald may sling all the mud he likes, but it won't stick."

  Claire came into the room just then to ask if there was anything else that needed to be done.

  Malcolm told her of their errand, and helped her on with her things, and then his own.

  "Thank you both for your help."

  "Don't mention it." Malcolm shook his hand, and they left without any further delay.

  Clifford forced himself to eat, though inwardly he was still seething over his belief as to how close Gerald had come to killing his own half-sister. He vowed he wou
ld never let his guard down again where Vanessa was concerned. The thought of anything happening to her was like a dagger through his heart.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Clifford sat on the edge of his chair in the snug, masculline dining room, alert for any sound of Vanessa being disturbed by nightmares. He leaned both elbows on the table wearily while he made a list of everything he would have to do before his wedding. When he had finished, and all was still quiet, he went to see the doctor in his study.