Nicole Jordan - The Seduction

Lulled by the sway of the well-sprung traveling coach, Vanessa allowed herself to relax against the velvet squabs. Seven hours of enforced intimacy with Damien Sinclair had taken a toll on her nerves.

They had spoken little on the journey north from London. Upon joining him in the carriage this morning, she had sensed his need for silence and readily complied. Now, however, Vanessa turned her head to observe her traveling companion. He was staring out the window at the passing Warwickshire landscape, engaged in his own private thoughts.

It was a mistake to regard him too closely, she realized. His handsome, noble profile still had the power to make her heart flutter, reminding her once again that she was out of her element in dealing with him.

For the hundredth time, Vanessa wondered what madness had led her to strike a wanton’s bargain with such a man. She had no illusions that he truly wanted her for his mistress. Far more likely, he wanted her as a pawn in his game of revenge.

She could understand his desire for vengeance, certainly. He wanted to strike back at the man who had seduced his sister, Vanessa knew, and she was a convenient tool. But she would make him regret forcing her to pay for her brother’s sins, she promised. He would not find her the submissive puppet he thought her.

His mood had seemed to darken as they drew closer to his country estate. But they were nearing their destination now, and she still knew little about the situation to which she had committed herself.

For a moment her own gaze lingered on the enchanting pastoral scene outside the carriage. The rolling English countryside was a patchwork quilt of crop fields and emerald green meadows, embroidered with hedgerows and copses of woodland. In the distance, draft horses lumbered along narrow lanes, past peacefully grazing sheep and cattle.

Finally, however, she summoned the courage to speak.

“If I am to be a companion to your sister,” Vanessa said quietly, “perhaps you should tell me something about her.”

Damien stirred, as if suddenly recalling her presence, and shifted his gaze to regard her with storm-gray eyes. “What do you wish to know?”

“What is she like in character and manner? What precisely is the present condition of her health? Anything that will allow me to better deal with her.”

His mouth curved with a hint of bitterness. “Her health? She is presently a cripple. She has no sensation in her lower limbs and will not make an attempt to leave her darkened room, or to use the invalid chair I had built for her. As for her character and manner…” His demeanor softened, as did his voice. “She was always the sweetest child in nature, and she grew into a lovely young lady, generous and unspoiled as one could wish.” He shook his head sardonically. “How that was possible with the Sinclair lineage is beyond me. She must be a changeling.”

Hearing the rough emotion in his voice, Vanessa felt an odd constriction in her throat. Perhaps she’d been mistaken to believe Lord Sin deplored being burdened by his crippled sister. The gentleness in his tone suggested he cared very deeply about her welfare.

It was strange to think of this notorious lord caring deeply for anything but his own pleasure.

He bent his head, rubbing one temple with elegant fingers, as if to ease the pain. “I bear part of the blame for her current misery. I should have been more vigilant in protecting her.”

He was silent for a moment. “I neglected her far too much, I realize that now. Our parents perished in a carriage accident when Olivia was ten years of age, and I took over the raising of her.” Sinclair grimaced. “What the devil do I know about rearing innocent young girls? I saw that she received an excellent education befitting a lady of wealth and rank, but other than the occasional visit home, I rarely saw her. I spent most of my time in town.”

“She is seventeen now?” Vanessa ventured gently.

“Eighteen, but she hasn’t had her come-out. I refused to bring her to London for the Season and a presentation at Court. Perhaps I was overly protective, but I thought she was too young.” He gave a soft, acrid laugh. “How I wish… But wishing is for fools, is it not?”

He took a slow, steady breath. “I never realized how much Olivia chafed at her restrictive life in the country. It made her vulnerable to the attentions of the first scoundrel who came along… men like your brother. She succumbed to his clandestine wooing like a pigeon ripe for plucking. She thought herself in love.”

The harsh inflection he placed on the word love made Vanessa wince, but she could find no ready reply. Perhaps Damien Sinclair’s bitterness was justified. She stifled the urge to express her sorrow yet again and instead asked, “What do the doctors say?”

“To pray for a miracle.” Damien turned to gaze out the window. “I did discover a physician in Oxfordshire who offered reason to hope. His radical views are widely condemned, but he suggested that, given the nature of the accident, Olivia’s spine may be only severely bruised, and that with aggressive treatment, she could recover at least partial use of her limbs in time. Perhaps it’s only desperation driving me to put my faith in a quack, but I am willing to risk being taken for a fool if there’s the slightest chance he could help her.”

“Sometimes it is wiser to ignore the so-called experts and follow your instincts,” Vanessa murmured.

When Damien’s gaze returned to her, she could see pain in the depths of those smoke-silver eyes. “If it were left to me, I would have commissioned Dr. Underhill to begin treatments at once, but Olivia has refused to allow him to attend her.”

“Why would she refuse? Does she dislike the man?”

“Their rapport isn’t the issue. The trouble is that she sees no point in making the attempt to improve her condition. As devastating as the physical impairment has been, the blow to her spirits was nearly as destructive. Not only did her heart suffer, but in Olivia’s eyes, her life is ruined- and perhaps it is.”

“The aborted elopement?”

His mouth hardened. “Indeed. It left her reputation in tatters and destroyed her chances to marry well.”

“She is still an heiress, is she not?”

“True, but the stain of scandal will always follow her and preclude her association in certain circles. I did my utmost to stifle the gossip. I put about the tale that Olivia had ridden to the coaching inn at Alcester to greet a visiting cousin, but met with a tragic accident there.” Damien clenched his teeth, as if reminded of his fury. “As soon as I was able, I called on the two young bloods who made the wager with your brother and secured their word to keep silent about the affair. But the rumors persisted.”

Vanessa nodded in sympathy but refrained from pointing out the obvious: A rakehell like Lord Sin attempting to quiet a scandal was like using oil to quench a fire. The methods he had probably chosen wouldn’t be helpful, either. In all likelihood he had threatened the two gentlemen with bodily harm before seeking out Aubrey in order to destroy him financially.

No one in his right senses would dare to cross the vengeful Lord Sin, but that didn’t mean he could silence the entire world.

“My worst mistake, however,” Damien continued in a low voice, “was my failure to reckon with the prudishness and cruelty of her governess-companion. That witch of a woman only heightened Livy’s sense of shame, making her feel tainted and oppressing her spirits even further. She was even encouraged to entertain thoughts of suicide.” His eyes locked with Vanessa’s. “Perhaps you can understand why I thought it crucial to find a replacement companion for my sister.”

Hearing the rawness of his quiet words, Vanessa looked at him in dismay. “Yes,” she replied in a whisper, regretting with all her heart the harm her reckless brother had caused poor young Olivia. “I understand. And I promise you, my lord, I will do everything in my power to help her.”

It was a long moment before the intensity of his gaze relented. Slowly Damien nodded and then turned his head once more to stare out the carriage window.

Some quarter hour later Vanessa felt the carriage slow and turn off the main road onto an avenue lined by stately elms.

“We have arrived,” her host informed her absently.

In the distance a glimmer of water captured Vanessa’s attention. When the carriage rounded a curve, she caught her breath at the vista. Rosewood obviously was not only the family home of a wealthy nobleman; it was a place of stunning beauty.

A shining lake lay in the center of the park, which was dotted with groves of beech and chestnut, while crowning a slight rise, an imposing estate built of mellow golden ironstone stood in magnificent glory. Vanessa spied a red deer grazing near the water’s edge before the carriage moved on and swung around the cobbled drive. The instant the conveyance came to a halt, several grooms and footmen leapt to assistance.

As Lord Sinclair helped Vanessa alight from the carriage, she was greeted by the sweet fragrance of roses that filled the soft, late-afternoon air.

“You must be fatigued from the long journey, Lady Wyndham,” he said in a voice strong enough to carry to his servants. “I shall have your trunks taken to your room at once.”

“Thank you, my lord. I would be glad to wash off my travel dust, but then perhaps you will introduce your sister. If it is not too late, we might even take tea together.”

Damien’s mouth curled in a frown. “If you can persuade Olivia to take tea, you will have accomplished more than I have. You’ll find she doesn’t eat enough to keep a sparrow alive.”