She was astonished at this thought. She who had protested she had no wish to marry Clifford was now going to argue in his favor?
But Vanessa knew what it was like to be pursued only for her money. Clifford might well be after her fortune, but he was not as objectionable as most of the men her friends down in Dorset had married. Many had ended up either with mercenary wretches, or men above their station who did nothing but behave in a condescending manner towards them. Two of the men drank immoderately, and she was sure that another two resorted to physical chastisement when vexed.
When she had expressed concern about her own unmarried state, her aunt had told her there would be plenty of time to make such a momentous decision. But then, her aunt Agatha had never married. She had been in love with a young man who had gone off to war in 1776 and never returned.
Vanessa was full of misgivings, it was true, but she did not want to miss her opportunity either through no fault of her own. She did not know much about the world, but she knew that the fluttering feeling in her stomach had little to do with her illness. It had every thing to do with the compelling presence of the handsome Clifford Stone. Married to the man from the neighboring estate to Hawkesworth House, she would be able to supervise both properties, and perhaps get Gerald to conduct himself in manner befitting a man of his station. And she would perhaps be able to live down the family scandal Gerald's thoughtless actions had brought down upon their heads. Certainly if she didn't marry Clifford Stone, it was unlikely that any other half-decent man would be willing to offer for her.
But she could not play nursemaid to her half-brother forever. Sooner or later he would have to face up to his responsibilities. And of course, if he did not marry, the property would revert to her heirs. She wanted her children to have a legacy of which they could be proud, not embarrassed and ashamed.
Children? Goodness, where had that thought come from? She shifted restlessly in the bed, suddenly nervous, breathless even. Still, many women younger than she had children all the time, and hadn't Clifford said the same thing this afternoon?
Marriage was of course for the purpose of begetting children as well as providing the man and woman with congenial companionship and a suitable helpmeet in life. She enjoyed being with Clifford, and suddenly found the solitude she had endured for so long at her aunt's to be a burden rather than a solace.
She had dreamed of making a good marriage one day. To marry a man she truly loved and desired as a woman should long for a man would be the height of bliss. If Clifford was all that he seemed to be, she would be a lucky woman both in bed and out.
Her breath caught in her throat at the thought of touching his bare flesh, stroking his luxurious blond waves, feeling his arms about her. She was inexperienced, but not naive. She knew of the nature of relations between men and women, having studied it and listened to her wedded friends' confidences. With a good, patient man there was much pleasure to be had in the marriage bed. Clifford had been more than candid about his relations with women. Perhaps Fate had been kind to her after all?
But there was no sense in being hasty. She still had time. Clifford seemed more than willing to protect her good name and reputation. Surely he would not file suit for breach of promise should she say no to him in the end? She owed it to him to keep an open mind, see if he was a man with whom she could share her life contentedly, since this peculiar situation had left her with so few viable options.
She settled down under the covers further, and fell into a deep and refreshing sleep, with her brow unfurrowed by a frown for the first time since Clifford had observed her in repose.
He smiled down at her, and knew that they had begun to have a good understanding of one another. A small battle in the war to win her heart had been waged that day, and he had emerged the victor. He looked forward to their next engagement on the morrow.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The bright sunlight streaming into the cheery bedroom the following morning eventually roused Vanessa from her deep sleep. Claire and Malcolm Branson were there by her side. Malcolm immediately rose to fetch Clifford, who returned a short time later with some tea and buttered crumpets.
Vanessa was glad to see him, and drank in his appearance. Once again he was dashingly handsome, this time in a well-cut burgundy coat with a cream waistcoat and burgundy cravat tied in the mailcoach fashion and affixed with a small, tasteful gold pin.
"Crumpets! How wonderful. Just what I wanted. I'm famished," she said, her voice less papery now that her throat was on the mend.
"Glad to hear it, my dear. I hope you generally have a hearty appetite as well. I've never held with the notion of eating like a sparrow for the sake of fashion."
A smile dimpled her cheeks. "You need only look at my figure to disabuse you of that notion."
"You are as thin as a rail, as well you know. Unless of course you have laced your corsets too tightly," he teased.
"Really Clifford, such a subject," Claire protested.
"Especially since he has picked me up into his arms, and knows full well I don't wear any such thing," Vanessa replied with a twinkle in her eye.
"Yes, delightful discovery, that. Nothing worse than standing up with a girl at a dance who creaks like an old rusty hinge and puffs like a grampus."
They all laughed at his witticism.
Vanessa proceeded to devour her breakfast enthusiastically while he entertained her with poems and the entries for the next few days in the farmer's almanac.
"I would offer you more, but the doctor told me to limit your portions for the time being, until your stomach becomes accustomed to having solid food in it once more. But you can have a bath again today, and change into some of your own things which the Bransons were kind enough to fetch for you."
"Thank you so much. I've put you all to so much trouble."
"Not at all, my dear," Claire sought to reassure her.
They chatted away to her as she ate, regaling her with news of her neighbors and the forthcoming entertainments she could look forward to, such as Michaelmas and the harvest festival. She made short work of the food and drink, licking her fingers free of butter like a small child.
Clifford smiled indulgently at her, and felt completely captivated by her beauty and charm.
When Vanessa finished her breakfast, Clifford swept her up into his arms and carried her down to the bathing chamber, where a steaming tub awaited her. He had also asked Claire to fetch some luxurious perfumed soap, and soft towels from his own home. Vanessa reveled in the unaccustomed luxuries, which she felt sure had been Clifford's doing, not the doctor's.
She was greatly refreshed by her ablutions, and comforted to put on her own clothes for the first time. She donned a loose flowing burgundy day gown with tiny cream flowers which set off her ivory complexion and bright eyes to perfection. They could not take their eyes off each other. They could almost have been a couple, she thought to herself, looking at their matching ensembles.
Clifford's assiduous attentions made her feel as though she were glowing from within. Vanessa reminded herself that it was in his best interests to make her feel romantically inclined toward him. On the other hand, he also knew she was not in a position to bargain. Her name would indeed be bandied about all over the district if they did not wed.
Many men in his position would have threatened to sue her brother for breach of promise as well. It showed some sign of sincerity on his part that he had not done so when she had been more than candid about her objections to the marriage. She was indeed beginning to think that she could have ended up far worse off than she was at present.
One could often tell a great deal about a person by the company they kept. The fact that he had no fewer than three respectable young women willing to assist him with nursing her testified to Clifford's character more than anything she could have been told about him by the neighbors. The discourse and demeanor of all the men and women, and the doctor, were not in any way objectionable. She tried hard enough to find fault
, any sign of something strange or less than moral about any of them.
She tried in vain. Vanessa found herself comparing her own brother and his associates very unfavorably with her new set of acquaintances. True, Clifford had played cards for her, but Malcolm confirmed in every particular his friend's story regarding the gambling of her hand in marriage by Gerald. She had no reason to suspect the son of the local magistrate of anything less than plain dealing.
Vanessa also learned that on the whole Clifford shared his friend Thomas' opinion of gambling.
"It takes advantage of the misfortunes of others, and is not money fairly earned. We are all warned against the deadly sin of sloth. Therefore gambling is sinful," Clifford argued cogently.
"And do you often attend the balls hereabouts?"
"No, indeed," Henry denied. "Clifford takes his responsiblities to the estate most seriously."
"The only reason he went at all was because our very good friend the Duke of Ellesmere was supposed to be staying with him for several days," Malcolm said. "When he saw Clifford sit down at the card table he was so shocked he left."
"I hope you will be able to mend fences with him soon," Josephine said quietly.
Clifford shrugged. "I have sent he and Jonathan a letter at Oxford. I think he will be able to forgive me."
She had also learnt from Malcolm that Clifford had had taken the place of a married man who had been at the table previously. He had not been spending his whole time at the ball playing cards. Nor had Clifford been drunk.
Vanessa watched and waited for some crack in the facade she was certain he was presenting to her, but there was nothing she could find fault with. She was sure even her maiden aunt would have approved. Clifford had never even sworn once in her hearing, whereas in her own home she had constantly had to berate her brother for his most immoderate language. In fact, none of the men here in the house had loose tongues.
Henry Stone, though more jovial, was equally sober and upright. There was a warm camaraderie between the brothers which was refreshing to see. From what she was understood of their conversation, Clifford entrusted a great deal of the estate business to his brother, and he most certainly had had property settled upon him thanks to his elder brother's auspicies.
"It seems very unfair for some to get everything through the sheer good fortune of being born sometimes even a minute or two before the other," Clifford said when she had observed how generous he had been in allowing Henry to make all the decisions about the livestock.
"It's just surprising, that's all. Far too many siblings end up as rivals," she said with a sigh, reflecting upon her own cousins, and even she and her half-brother.
After conversing with all of her nurses, Vanessa felt much more at ease at Dr. Gold's. She would need time to confirm her first and second impressions, but thus far, the Stones, Bransons and Jeromes were all people that she would be pleased and proud to count as friends.
After her bath and toilette, Vanessa was allowed to remain downstairs in the snug little house to keep company with the others while they ate. Clifford waited on her hand and foot, offering her hot tea and dainties to tempt her appetite, but also not allowing her to eat too much when her stomach was still so unsettled. The crumpets before her bath had certainly made her feel like a new woman. She was quite famished, but obeyed the doctor's instructions to the letter.
As she sat with the little group of friends, she observed Clifford carefully. She noted in particular his impeccable table manners, and the intelligence with which he discussed the items raised by Malcolm or his sister as they took turns reading from the daily papers. Here was a man she would never be ashamed of, no matter what the company. She thought with shame of her own brother Gerald, and her cheeks burned.
Clifford noted her high color and long looks, and prayed he was winning the battle for her heart without having to make an all-out campaign to win her. Let her get to know him. It would be hard to keep his ardor in check, but Vanessa would be worth the wooing.
He elicited everyone's opinion on a number of different political questions, ensuring that every woman, including Vanessa, got to air their views. She could see him retreat into himself slightly, however, when Malcolm read out the news about Wellington investing the town of Burgos in Spain in preparation for a long siege.
Now she could truly grasp the meaning of the common phrase that someone's face closed up. He looked truly grim, and she wondered if he had friends who were serving in the war. She looked over at Henry, who was staring at his brother. Clifford put down his knife and fork, and folded his hands in front of him so tightly that his knuckles went white. She longed to discuss the matter further, but Malcolm, sensing at last the altered atmosphere around the table, came to the end of the sentence and began to read a far more frivolous item from the Court Circular.
Clifford gave a slow smile which did not quite reach his eyes, and relaxed again at last.
After the meal, Dr. Gold proposed that his patient might like some fresh air. Clifford immediately rose to fetch the men's outerwear, whilst the Jeromes wrapped her up tightly. She was allowed to take a turn about the garden, with Henry assisting on her left, and Clifford on her right.
The sisters led the way, with Malcolm and Claire bringing up the rear. It was a fine day with just the right amount of autumnal crispness, and Clifford commented on the warmth of the sun's rays despite the advancing season.
"That is not to say we will have not frost soon. We must check our arrangements about the winter crops, Henry."
"Indeed."
The two brothers chatted about their own estate matters for some time. Vanessa listened with interest, interjecting an intelligent question every so often.
"What are your main crops?"
"Well, as you know, much of the land is given over to livestock, and our herds of sheep are second to none."
"Cheviots?"
"And Leicesters, yes."
"For wool, milk and cheese?"
"Mainly wool. We sell the milk at a good price to a local widow who runs her own dairy to help some of the other women in the village improve their lot in life. They make the cheeses, and very fine they are too. You just had some for breakfast.
"Anyway, back to the crops. Potatoes, beans, rapeseed, and beets all do well here in our different fields. And we have some for hay and turnips and potatoes, of course, for the winter crops."
The brothers explained their holdings to her in detail. Far from dismissing her comments, readily engaged her in conversation and elicited her opinions. Once again she found herself remarking to herself upon the difference between these men and her own brother. They were certainly admirable, the type of young men her aunt would have delighted in knowing. Perhaps the solicitors would feel the same, and agree to allow her to marry Clifford?
For the more Vanessa got to know him, the more she was certain that Fate had indeed dealt her a remarkable hand. Had gifted her with a husband she could admire, yes, even love.
Love... She had never placed any importance upon the word before as part of her thoughts upon marrying well, but it was the only word which could explain how she felt about Clifford. She wanted to be with him, night and day.
The thought shocked her. She had never even been kissed apart from a couple of hearty busses under the mistletoe at Yuletide. But she was not so innocent that she did not know what went on between a man and a woman. Clifford was the only man she had ever found herself wondering about in that way. And when he looked at her with those passionate blue eyes of his, she was sure he felt the same...
Clifford's next comment brought her out of her romantic reverie. "We ought to be heading back in. That is quite enough exercise for one day, especially after the excitement of a bath and all that breakfast."
"Really, I'm fine. I'd like to stay out a bit longer."
"Well, if you're sure. I'd be less concerned though if you would allow me to seat you in the arbor at the end of this lane."
"That would be delightful." She
was pleased with his degree of solicitousness, caring but not suffocating, and allowed him to lead the way.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The walking party made their way down the path slowly to the garden seat, Clifford and Vanessa in the lead, with the Jerome girls and Henry following along behind, and Bransons in the rear.
When they reached the arbor, Clifford whisked off his cloak and placed it around her shoulders, before stooping to fold the bottom upwards until it formed a solid pad of fabric. "Now I think you may safely sit without catching a chill from the wrought-iron seat."
"Thank you so much. It's very kind of you."
"Not at all, my dear. Ladies, are you dressed warmly enough, or would you like our cloaks?"
"We're fine, Clifford, thank you," Emma said. Josephine nodded, Claire Branson too.
The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 1 Page 18
