Samantha Kane (14 page)

o’clock,” she whispered. “In six hours’ time. I must sleep, at

least a little.” Her smile was as sweet as her kiss, and Nick just

nodded.

“Why shopping?” she asked as she fussed with her hair, puling

pins out and putting them back in. Nick didn’t see a difference

when she was done, but he was no ladies’ maid.

“I want to buy you a gift. Something smal and beautiful, like you.

So you can keep it with you at al times.” He desperately needed

her to have something of him, no matter what happened after

Twelfth Night.

“And there you go again,” she whispered. She blew him a kiss.

“And there you go again,” she whispered. She blew him a kiss.

“He doesn’t waste words, does he?” Oliver asked as he kissed

Vanessa’s cheek. He winked at Nick. “I think he says those

things because he likes to shock us with how sweet he is.”

“I am not sweet,” Nick responded, offended. “I am honest.

There is a great deal of difference between the two.” He walked

over and opened the door, looking up and down the halway.

“We have to leave now if we are to return our prize before

sunrise.”

“What happened earlier today?” Vanessa asked Oliver as they

sat in the hackney taking them back to her street. “At the

orphanage?”

She took his hand and her hand was smal and elegant in his.

Oliver puled it to his lips and kissed it, wishing she hadn’t

donned her gloves. But it was too cold out not to, he supposed.

He pretended ignorance of what she was talking about. “When?”

Nick sat across from them, watching. He knew, but he wasn’t

going to reveal Oliver’s secret. It was decent of him, realy.

Oliver could tel Nick was more than halfway in love with her. It

must grate on him not to be able to tel her.

“When you couldn’t find Nick,” Vanessa said patiently. “Tel

“When you couldn’t find Nick,” Vanessa said patiently. “Tel

me.”

Oliver had been avoiding her eyes, but now he looked at her and

he couldn’t deny the truth. He was more than halfway in love

with her too. And it hurt him to keep secrets from her. There

was no censure in her gaze, no accusations. She’d accepted so

much about them already. This stupid weakness of his was surely

the least of it.

“I don’t like to be apart from him.” He sighed. “That’s not true. I

can’t be apart from him. If I can’t see him, or at least know he’s

close, I panic. I can’t breathe and I get rather…foolish. The

whole thing is foolish.” He said the last in disgust and let go of

her hand.

She reached determinedly over and took his hand again. “It’s not

foolish. Why?”

“I don’t know,” Oliver said in frustration. “That’s the damnedest

part. I mean, I know he didn’t just disappear. He’s promised not

to do that again. I know he won’t.”

“Again?” Vanessa asked, picking up on that one word.

“At Waterloo,” Nick said. “I was injured and unconscious. They

took me on one of the wagons to a private residence turned

hospital. Oliver couldn’t find me for a week.”

Oliver’s hand was fisted in his lap. He’d thought Nick was dead.

It was a helish week of trying to get permission to search for

Nick and then pawing through dead bodies piled high, expecting

to see Nick’s ravaged face at any moment. When he’d found

Nick, he’d been conscious again but his memory was addled.

He’d imagined he was in Gloucester and Oliver was his older

brother Tate. Oliver hadn’t cared. He would have gladly been

caled Tate for the rest of his life. His commanding officer had

finaly found him there with Nick and nearly beaten him black

and blue for deserting before dragging him back to his unit.

“That must have been awful for you, Oliver,” Vanessa said

quietly. She wrapped both hands around his one and cradled it

to her cheek before kissing his knuckles. “I wish I had been

there to help you.”

God, he wished she had too. When he’d had to leave Nick, the

nightmares had begun. They had gotten so bad he gave up

sleeping. Eventualy he gave up eating. Nick recovered enough

to be sent home, and Oliver was sent with him. He was less than

useless to his company, as his commanding officer had pointed

out with disgust.

They hadn’t been apart since.

“You helped me today,” he told her. He didn’t want to

remember those days. He didn’t want to reopen old wounds.

Vanessa had given him hope at the orphanage when her touch

had stopped the fear from choking him. Maybe it was that

simple. Maybe he just needed that kind of sympathetic touch to

make him realize he wasn’t alone. And maybe now Nick could

do that for him too. He’d been afraid before. They’d both been

afraid to show that side of their affection for each other. But

Vanessa had taken away the fear.

What would happen to them when Vanessa was gone?

Vanessa watched the flame of her Christmas candle as the sun

rose outside her window. Nick and Oliver had given it to her.

Tradition said it should burn throughout the holiday, until

Epiphany. But she wasn’t sure she’d let it. She didn’t want it to

burn down and disappear. She wanted to keep it, to remember

them. She was drying the rosemary and had already pressed

some of the other greenery. She would keep them forever, or at

least until they turned to dust and she was too old to remember.

They al knew they had only a few more days. Vanessa had

aluded to it, but neither of the men had acknowledged her

warning. Going shopping with them tomorrow was a mistake,

but it was one she had to make. She wanted to spend more time

with them. She might rue the day, but first she would enjoy it.

She’d wanted to weep when Nick told her he wanted to give her

a gift she could keep with her always. Didn’t he realize they’d

a gift she could keep with her always. Didn’t he realize they’d

already done that? The memories of their affair would be her

constant companions for many years to come.

They’d seen the real Vanessa and they hadn’t been disgusted or

shocked. Quite the opposite. They wanted to spend more time

with her. They wanted her, not a Carlton-Smythe. Just Vanessa.

How could she regret that? She didn’t know what tomorrow

would bring, but she was counting the hours until she saw them

again. She felt a twinge of uneasiness over her longing for them.

She mustn’t need them too much, mustn’t rely on seeing them to

get through each day. It could only end in disaster if she let

herself become too attached.

Wearily she climbed into bed. She had only a couple of hours to

sleep before they came for her.

“What a lovely day it’s been,” Vanessa sighed happily, her arm

linked with Oliver’s while Nick walked next to her, holding her

packages. Except for the very special one nestled in her reticule.

“If you like blustery, cold winter days,” Nick said wryly. “Then

yes, it’s been lovely.”

Oliver laughed. “I for one never felt a bit of the chil, warmed as I was by your company, dear lady,” he said galantly, patting her

hand. “And memories of last night, of course.” Vanessa tugged

hand. “And memories of last night, of course.” Vanessa tugged

on his arm in reproach, glancing about to make sure no one was

near to hear him. She earned no more than a lascivious look

from him for her trouble.

“I was near to melting in the heat of those reminiscences,” Nick

agreed. “We should get through this winter quite comfortably, I

think.”

“Shh,” Vanessa hissed. “What if someone hears you?”

Nick looked around incredulously at the empty street and

sidewalk. “It’s freezing out here, Vanessa. No one in his or her

right mind is walking about.”

“We are,” she declared.

“My point exactly.” Nick’s drol reply had Oliver laughing again.

“Oh, don’t be cross,” Vanessa begged. “I just wanted a little

more time with you. I didn’t make you walk me al the way home

from Bond Street, did I? I had the hackney stop just around the

corner.”

Nick stopped and so did she and Oliver. “I’m not complaining,”

Nick said with such a serious look on his face. “I’m glad you

did. I’d freeze my arse off for one more minute with you, and

that’s the truth.”

“I like it on you,” she said seriously, “so let’s try to avoid that

catastrophe.” Nick looked so shocked at her humor that she

burst out laughing. “Oh, darling, how I adore you,” she blurted

without thinking. She quickly turned away, her heart pounding at

her slip of the tongue. She mustn’t give him false hope. No

matter how much she adored him, she would never be alowed

to marry him, or Oliver either.

“I adore you too,” he said. There was nothing light in his tone,

and Vanessa took it for it was—a declaration.

“We are al agreed on it, then,” Oliver said lightly. “We are

adorable.” He paused a moment and then added, “And we do

not want Nick to lose his arse.”

Nick’s smile was reluctant but genuine. “Thank you. Your good

wishes are duly noted.”

Vanessa’s laugh was forced. “Positively adorable,” she agreed.

“Here we are.” They had arrived at her door and were halfway

up the steps before Vanessa noticed the knocker in its place.

Her feet froze on the steps as denial screamed through her head.

She was supposed to have four more days.

“What is it?” Oliver asked with an inquisitive look.

Nick was looking around with a frown, trying to find what was

wrong. But Vanessa couldn’t answer. If she didn’t say the words

wrong. But Vanessa couldn’t answer. If she didn’t say the words

she could stand here with them al day and pretend.

The door opened and Greely stood off to the side, leaving her

room to enter, but not Nick or Oliver. She started to put her

hand up, as if to tel him, no, don’t say it, but he didn’t give her

the chance. “Good afternoon, Lady Vanessa,” he said, reaching

for her packages. “Your parents have returned. Your father

asked that you see him in his study immediately upon your

return.”

“Good afternoon, sir,” Vanessa said as she entered her father’s

study. She walked around his desk and kissed his proffered

cheek. “I trust you had a pleasant journey?”

“I did not,” he replied cooly. He gestured to the chair in front of

his desk. How she hated that chair and the hours she had spent

there listening to countless lectures about her duty to her family

and her station. Deportment, charitable obligations, social

obligations, marital obligations, duty to her family, duty to her

church, the responsibility she bore them al. And she mustn’t

forget the servants and the lower classes! God forbid she set a

bad example for them. Her head ached with the weight of al

those words.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said politely as she took a seat. “Is

Mother wel?”

Mother wel?”

“As wel as can be expected,” he replied crypticaly, and

Vanessa’s uneasiness grew.

“Oh?” she answered, standing. “Perhaps I should go to her?”

“Sit.” Her father’s one-word reply brooked no disobedience.

She sat. “I have brought a suitor home to meet you. I find him an

excelent candidate for marriage. I expect that you shal agree.

After you have been introduced tomorrow and the formalities

have been exchanged, you wil excuse yourself and retire to your

room so that I may discuss the details of the marriage

arrangement. Do you understand?”

Vanessa’s head was spinning. She feared she might actualy

swoon, which would never do, of course. True ladies did not

swoon. “What?” she whispered.

Her father frowned at her. “News of your holiday activities

reached us in Kent. Lady Dalrymple is a cousin of Mrs. Bent,

another houseguest.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“After Ashland’s rejection, I felt pity for you and did not push for another betrothal as I should have. You have clearly been given

too much freedom, and as such have gotten yourself into trouble,

which is to be expected I suppose, with only your Aunt Grace to

see to you, although it is a great disappointment.”

“Where is Aunt Grace?” Vanessa interrupted, fearing what her

“Where is Aunt Grace?” Vanessa interrupted, fearing what her

father may have done in his anger. Vanessa didn’t want the dear

lady banished to the country because of her poor judgment.

“She is packing,” her father said. “She and your mother wil be

going back to Kent tomorrow.” He sighed unhappily. “I took

you for a girl with a sense of decorum and a high degree of

gratitude for al you have been given. I see this is not the case. A

respectable marriage to a man of adequate social standing and

impeachable reputation should put any rumors to rest.”

“You’ve found another available duke, then?” Vanessa asked

sarcasticaly. It was common knowledge that she’d been raised

to marry a duke, and when the only available one rejected her,

her father was too arrogant to accept anything less. Pity for her

had nothing to do with it. She knew her anger would not be

appreciated, but at that moment she didn’t care.

“No.” Her father’s clipped response indicated he was as angry