He sat her down in the chair nearest the fire, and watched her carefully. Her hand was shaking so badly that she spilled more than she sipped, but after a few moments her color returned.
While he waited for her to compose herself, Clifford told Dr. Gold in a few succinct phrases precisely what had just transpired.
The doctor was outraged. "It will never happen, I give you my word. You are as sane as anyone. Far more so than them, in fact, or so it would appear."
"But what am I to do? I can't let Clifford--"
"I will look into their affairs, see if the house is mortgaged. If it is, I will secure the deed and hold it over your cousins' heads. It will keep them guessing, and too worried to dare move against you again, or else be rendered homeless. I'm just so sorry your aunt--"
"She spoiled them both unmercifully. They were her only two children for years."
"Don't make excuses. It's unconscionable. Even if any loved one of mine were mad, I would never put them in an asylum."
She stared at him, shocked to see how badly he was trembling.
"Good Lord, Clifford, what is it?"
"Let's just say a friend's sister recently met just such a fate, genuine madness, and leave it at that, shall we," he said through taut lips.
"Yes, indeed," she agreed readily enough.
Once again she stared at him, wondering at all the tide pools, currents and eddies below the surface of Clifford's urbane facade. He had always seemed so cool, in control, aloof. Now she could see all of his passion: it was pure rage against injustice.
He had come to her rescue like...
Like a golden knight, she thought, her stomach lurching into her mouth at the recollection of the dream that morning, the mysterious lady in blue.
"Thank you, Clifford. For being such a staunch friend. I don't know what I would do if--"
"So long as you know, my dear," he said, kissing her hand tenderly, "that I am always at your service. But that in no circumstances do I wish for mere gratitude from you. Do you understand? I will defend you for all harm, but I don't want you to marry me just because you're frightened or feel you have no other choice. Or that it's the least terrible choice from a whole host of awful options."
"No, never," she protested sincerely. She squeezed his hand hard to reinforce her words, and leaded forward in her chair until their knees touched. "I do want to marry you, I think. As a woman wants a man," she added shyly.
Her head tilted to one side to receive his kiss, but before their lips could meet, the doctor cleared his throat loudly.
"Er, steady on, you two," the doctor interrupted, blushing. "Vanessa has had a great deal of upset. I think she needs to get back to bed. Alone."
They both cast shy glances at each other, and broke apart.
"He's right. Back to bed with you. I promise you, you're perfectly safe."
"Yes, indeed. They won't be allowed in again, and they certainly won't be able to convince any doctor of their Banbury Tales once the whole story is known. Everyone in the district saw them gamble for you and lose. They could hardly be described as disinterested, therefore."
"But they can harm me through gossip, and if they go around telling everyon I am mad, it will reflect badly on Clifford."
Clifford took her hand and kissed it. "Then once you are well, we can take great pains to introduce you around the district. No one who meets you will fail to be impressed with your intelligence and commonsense, so anything they might hear from the Stephenses will be known to be sour grapes."
"So come on, Miss Hawkesworth, up you go, and try to rest."
He took her hand and began to lead her slowly from the room.
"Rest? I feel like I don't dare sleep at this point for fear of some other dark force coming to get me."
"Other?" Clifford asked softly, drawing parallel with her on her other side.
She shook her head. "Never mind. It's just me being fanciful. Henry's talk of ghosts must have made me more nervous than I thought."
"I understand." Clifford was still looking at her pointedly, but the stare was soon replaced by one of his more smoldering looks that she was coming to recognize. And even to look forward to.
Her tremulous smile became one of open invitation as she put her hand to his cheek. "Thank you. For supporting me today," she added, when a slight frown began to pucker his brow. "I never knew how ugly people could be when it came to money."
The doctor cleared his throat, excused himself, and returned to his study with a promise to come up to see her shortly once she was settled again.
After he had gone, Clifford said, "I have to admit, I really had never encountered avarice until quite recently. Toward the end of my service in the war, and now. It's one thing if a person is truly desperate. Like one of our Rakehell friends, Philip, whose family ended up in debtor's prison. He had younger sisters to look after as well, but he never stooped to what your cousins tried to do today. The only person he ever hurt was himself. He got transported because he did what he could to alleviate the debt, and some called it criminal. But he certainly never tried to harm an innocent woman, or gamble. He worked hard at both his jobs and was as honest as the day is long."
"Then why was he transported?" she asked, as she mounted the stairs.
"He was falsely accused of having harmed one of his clients."
"I see. But he never--"
Clifford shook his blond head. "No. Thomas, the Duke of Ellesmere, testified for him, and saved him from being hung."
"Oh my. How dreadful." She sighed. "You certainly do know some unusual people, considering how wealthy you are."
"Which is all the more reason why I am so livid at the Stephenses. They have no excuse. They want for nothing, yet it's still never enough."
She had by now reached the top of the stairs, and entered her room. She sat on the bed and he stooped to remove her shoes. "True. All except Paul. I can't think he's changed so much."
"That may well be true, but I would like to advise you against having anything to do with him until you can be certain."
"All right, I promise."
"That's my girl." He pulled the covers up to her chin and smoothed away the tousled curls from her brow.
"Now, do you think you can sleep again, or would you like me and one of our companions to sit with you?"
"I'll try to sleep again if you don't mind. I had a bad night."
"More terrible dreams?"
She bit her lip and nodded.
"It will get better, I'm sure. I find that whenever I'm anxious about something, it comes to me in my dreams, and eventually resolves itself."
"I wish," she sighed. "But I don't think there's any resolution to this. I just feel so helpless."
"You've been very brave."
She shook her head. "Nonsense. I only wish I had been. I was woefully inept today trying to deal with my own family. Goodness only knows what would have happened if you hadn't been there."
Clifford gave a tight smile. "Though some might accuse me of actually making the situation far worse. Or even having been the cause of the situation in the first place."
"Don't say that, Clifford," she insisted, taking his hand. "If anything you've helped a great deal. And after all, it was their choice to allow the card game. You merely did what you thought was best in the circumstances. Even I can see that, even if I'm rather stunned at the idea of marrying you."
"Not too stunned, I hope," he said with a light, teasing smile.
"No, indeed. In fact, I believe the prospect is becoming quite a delightful one when you look at me like that."
"Like what?" he asked softly, his blue eyes glowing.
She gave a little shrug. "As if you admire me."
"No if about it, my dear. You are lovely. But tired. So if you will permit me one more kiss with Dr. Gold safely outside the door, I shall leave you to your slumbers."
Vanessa didn't wait for their chaperon. She launched herself into his arms, kissing him ardently, her unbound breasts press
ing against his chest through the thin fabric of her gown. She rubbed herself against him, and deepened the kiss until Clifford felt as though he was going to swoon. Vanessa was sure she had.
He dragged his mouth away with superhuman effort. "Thank you, my treasure. That was truly remarkable. And hopefully a sign that we belong together. That what we share is special, unique. A gift."
"Mmm, yes," she said, smiling up at him in stunned surprise. "That's exactly what it is, a gift."
"You can have as many little presents as you like once we're safely wed. Go on, back under the covers. I shall see you later."
He tucked her in once more, kissed her on the cheek, and turned to leave.
"Clifford?"
"Yes, love?" he said, turning quickly.
"Thank you for making me forget all about my horrible aunt and cousins. One kiss from you and the whole cruel world falls away."
"And won't be coming back to disturb you ever again, I give you my word."
"And I believe it. I'll see you later."
"Sweet dreams, darling."
Vanessa snuggled under the covers, and summoned up a picture in her mind of a golden knight, his armor as bright as the sun. As she sank blissfully into somnolence, she couldn't help but notice that the glorious warrior bore Clifford's face.
He would slay all her dragons, she was sure. She just had to believe that he could dispel the shadows threatening her. That the fairy tale ending she longed for with all her heart truly could be hers.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
After three more days of convalescence at Dr. Gold's house, the Jerome sisters removed Vanessa to their home, Jerome Manor. The doctor's abode had been more than comfortable, but they could not prevail upon him indefinitely in his snug bachelor's establishment.
By contrast with the doctor's solid eighteenth-century stone house, Jerome Manor was quite modern in the new Gothic style, with several small crenellated towers and high vaulted ceilings. The ground floor was a veritable maze of public rooms, from the grand hall and drawing room, to the ballroom and chapel. Vanessa thought it was something straight out of Mr. Walpole's or Mrs. Radcliffe's novels, but the room furnishings were lighter brocades and muslins, so the feel was one of comfort and fashion rather than oppression.
Vanessa was given a sunny room with her own bath and dressing room, situated on the first floor and overlooking the topiary gardens. The décor was peacock blue and gold, and Vanessa considered it one of the most splendid rooms she had ever seen.
The Jeromes' elderly mama and papa were the souls of kindness, taking her in like a long-lost daughter, and never asking any awkward questions. Like the rest of the friends in Clifford's set, they minded their own business, nor did they gossip about anyone in the district.
There were three younger Jerome siblings, including the sixteen-year-old heir Alfred, and Ellen and Georgina Jerome, fourteen and thirteen respectively, high-spirited and showing every indication of being real beauties when they grew up. There was also a cousin visiting from Barton, a tall dashing army officer introduced to her as Samuel Jerome. He had eyes only for Claire Branson, but she seemed completely oblivious to his interest.
Vanessa chose to say nothing, since it was certainly not her right to play matchmaker. But she could find nothing objectionable about the man except that as he admitted himself, he was actually the youngest of seven sons, and thus not as good a catch for a woman as his elder siblings in terms of worldly considerations.
Vanessa knew that would make no difference to a woman who truly loved him. But Claire had told her that her heart belonged to Mr. Grayson the vicar, so the young Jerome cousin, worthy though he was, was bound to be disappointed.
Samuel's other brothers popped in and out every so often from their own home in Barton, and were all so similar in appearance Vanessa soon gave up trying to distinguish between them. They were all sober and respectable, and seemed particularly intent upon plans for a family ball at their home, to which Vanessa was invited. She was not sure of the occasion, but the Jeromes were always in such a constant state of frenetic activity that it was easy to see they loved to entertain.
It was a novelty for Vanessa to be in such a large happy family home, and she was a bit overwhelmed at first. She had enjoyed the peace and quiet and congenial company at the doctor's. She had loved the quiet time and relatively intimate setting, and felt she knew Clifford as well as anyone could know someone before they were married. Each day brought new discoveries which only added to her regard for him.
As she spent time with all of the cousins, she could see why Clifford talked so fondly of having a large family. To watch the youngest Jeromes frolic like happy puppies was a delight.
But Vanessa had other things on her mind besides mingling with her host family, for her solicitors Mason and Rogers were due first thing Monday morning. She settled into her room well on Saturday, organizing the things Claire and Malcolm had brought for her from Hawkesworth House so that she would be appropriately attired for a social visit, and sending for a few more items now that she was in such elegant company.
She hung up her frocks with the help of a maid, and then looked over her linen to make sure it was immaculate. She had a fine muslin in a dark block print of rich deep russet tones which made her hair shine like a crown. It was modestly cut as well, and she had a matching shawl to complete the ensemble. It would be appropriately business-like but still pretty, and well suited to the occasion. She would have dined with the family, but Clifford advised her not to overdo things, and so she ate separately with he and the Bransons on trays in one of the small parlors. They tried to keep the conversation light, which frustrated Vanessa no end. She wanted to know everything about Clifford, but also did not want to share his most private self with anyone.
She had also hoped for some opportunity for further physical intimacies, but Clifford had done nothing more than kiss her on the hand or cheek since she had agreed to marry him.
She pouted that night as he escorted her up to her chamber, but he shook his head, and stepped away from her, though he retained her hand in his own.
"I know these feelings are all new and very powerful, but I would never wish you to think I had deliberately set out to take advantage in any way. I know what I said to Henry about abstinence. It has been easy enough for me up until now, but just one touch from you and I melt. All my good resolutions fly straight out the window."
"I understand," she said, blushing.
"I don't think you do, not fully. But you were raised on a farm. You know of the birds and the bees. Let's just say that the desire to procreate is the most powerful force of nature I can think of. And that desire is part of the mind as well as the body. The prospect of you becoming my wife is so, er, stimulating, that I can barely think about anything else."
"One more kiss, please?"
Clifford gave an almost pained assent. "But I shall put my hands in my pockets, and I would request that you loop yours behind your back. Touching me is a most risky activity."
Even without hands, the kiss was so compelling that Clifford jumped away from her like a scalded cat, shuddering from head to toe.
"I'm sorry. I simply cannot bear it. It's just too powerful between us. It is nothing you have done wrong. The failing is all mine. Good night, my dear. I shall seen you on the morrow," he said, backing away from her.
It was only with the greatest difficulty that he tore himself away, and he tried not to flee down the hall like a coward. Never had any woman affected him so deeply, as if he couldn't breathe without her in his arms.
She stared after him pensively, and thought over his words, searching for hidden meanings. His body had thrashed about so.
She blushed. It was rather shocking, but also nice to know that she had the power to make him desire her so. With that happy thought she donned a virginal white nightrail, brushed out her hair quickly, and got into her bed. Never had it seemed lonely, until now.
She hugged the pillow, wrapped her arm around
it as if around his waist, and rubbed her breasts against it. She was so moist with desire below her waist she wondered if women melted in the same way as men.
A couple of tentative touches of her most intimate flesh convinced her she did, and she yanked her hands up away from her loins, and clasped them together to stop herself from yielding to such sinful temptation.
She ground her hips against the pillow in an effort to get comfortable, and felt herself quivering, awash with passion. She collapsed with a gasp, and fell into a sound, sated slumber.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
She awakened early on Sunday morning after a refreshing sleep relatively untroubled by nightmares, and got ready for church. She scrubbed herself with cold water from the basin, and put on one of her simple black gowns, adding a gossamer fichu to cover her neck. She dusted off her heavy cloak in preparedness for the walk to church and the time she would be sitting in the drafty pew.
The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 1 Page 22
