Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle (235 page)

76

The Viscount Claims His Bride

broke in angrily. Who knew what

of fiction

Lucien would fabricate? If he was willing to risk portraying their quarrel as a proposal, he might be willing to go so far as to say her storming out of the library was akin to 'thinking it over7.

stared hard at each of them. 'I will not stand here and be

about as if I am invisible.

That goes for both of you. However, since my presence is not intrinsic to this conversation, please feel free to stay out here and continue.

going in.'

She must have been momentarily mad to think she wasn7 t ready for Valerian to leave.
Valerian.
That was another thing. Some time between his arrival two nights ago and this afternoon,

started

of him as Valerian again instead of St Just. Out in the garden,

been her friend, so reminiscent of the old days, and then

become St Just. On an

instant's notice, the mask had slid into place as assuredly as the one

worn to the ball last night.

Was that what it was?

mask? Why she was so

certain the mask of cold, sharp wit was the facade?

It could just as well be that the friend was the front instead.

Up in her

threw her cloak onto the

bed

paced in front of the window, her thoughts in turmoil. For a woman who'd thought herself well armed against the dubious charms of Viscount St Just, her defences had proven to be woefully inadequate. Already, she was willing to cast off what she empirically knew to be the truth for the old fantasy spun once before in her girlhood.

Scott

Why was it so easy to fall back into believing those old myths? Especially when she
knew
they were myths. Inspiration struck. She would prove to herself that Valerian Inglemoore was not to be trusted with her affections. Yes, if she could visually see the proof with her own eyes, it would be harder to stray from the truth the next time he held her hand or led her in a waltz.

drew out a sheet of her personal stationery from the escritoire and sat down. Purposefully, she drew a line down the centre of the paper, dividing it into two

one for myths, the other for realities.

When she was done filling in the columns, she had three myths and five truths. Myth number one: he had loved her in their youth. Myth number two: he'd meant to marry her. Myth number three: he'd returned and hoped to woo her, to atone for bad behaviour in the past. Yes, those were the things she wanted most to believe about Valerian.

Then there were the dismal truths. Truth number one: he'd blatantly acknowledged their little was nothing but a young man's fleeting fancy.

Truth number two: he'd never meant to marry her. He'd known that very night he was leaving for his uncle's diplomatic residence. What else could explain such a rapid departure? He must have been planning it for months, perhaps for even longer than their short-lived infatuation.

Truth number three: he'd never asked her father for permission to court her and certainly not sion to ask for her hand. If he had, her father would have told her, she was sure of it.

78

The Viscount Claims His Bride

Truth number four: he had made no effort to contact her or Beldon in his absence.

Truth number five: he'd come home with a reputation to match the behaviour he'd shown her that long ago night in the

garden.

The bottom line of her analysis convicted him.

With the exception of a few fleeting moments, nothing corroborated the behaviour she wanted to see in him. Nothing supported the items listed in the myth column. Everything supported the facts both past and present. The stark truth was that Valerian Inglemoore was a seducer of women-a very good one at that. So why was it so hard to resist him, even with the truth staring her in the face? And why was it so hard to accept that truth?

Was it possible there was another side to Valerian that he deliberately kept hidden? Perhaps there was a side that he couldn't afford to expose. There might be reasons for his tightly tied mask, reasons that had to do with his work for his uncle.

drew out

another sheet of paper. She had friends in political circles who could find out. All wishful aside, it suddenly seemed of paramount importance she knew the

about Valerian Inglemoore.

sanded the letter and set it aside, nagged by a growing sense of guilt. She didn't feel right about the inquiry. It felt too much like spying, going behind Valerian's back. No, she wouldn't send it, at least not right away. Now that her initial anger was waning, she was beginning to recognize she had done little to get to know the man Valerian had become.

Scott

Before she sent off a letter of inquiry prying into the man's background, she should try to exhaust more direct routes available to her. After all, she sat at the same dinner table with him and there was the outing to Vicar

in

tomorrow if

Lucien's request was accepted. Those were prime opportunities to reacquaint herself with Valerian and determine the truth on her own.

The evening was a relaxed contrast compared to the prior two nights. Many of the guests who had stayed over after the New Year's ball had departed late in the afternoon for short journeys home. In addition to Beldon and Valerian, only two couples remained, a Lord Trewithen and his wife, and the ageing Baron and his wife from the

area, who

were friends of Lucien's father and had come to the ball en route from London on their way home.

With the exception of the queer Mr Danforth, knew the other guests as regular acquaintances from the

community during her

marriage. It was a simple task to make conversation over dinner and have a congenial time with the two ladies after the meal in the music room while the men took their port.

Afterwards, the men joined them for a short night of cards. She and Beldon offered to play whist with the Trewithens. At the far end of the music room, Lucien already sat at the cluster of chairs and sofa, talking avidly with Danforth and

to the ex-

clusion of all else, leaving

to consider what

to do with the elderly Lady