The Wolfe Wager (8 page)

A pulse of the sorrow she had tried to set aside coursed through her. So much grief this family had suffered. Only Vanessa remained, and Carolyn repeated her silent pledge that the last of the Wolfes would not come to disaster as the others had. If only Vanessa could learn to compromise, she might escape the pain and failure that had haunted her family.

“We shall speak of bringing out your niece once I have Vanessa settled with a good match.” Carolyn smiled sadly. “My brother’s final wish was that I would see to his only surviving child’s future. That must be my sole concern.”

“And of your own future?”

Her smile became warmer. “Vanessa is both my present and my future concern at this time. Perhaps—when she is happily married with a husband who dotes on her—I can turn my mind to more personal matters.”

“If you are putting your life aside until she is wed, then, my dear Carolyn, you should make certain that Vanessa is given more opportunities to meet suitable men.”

“Exactly why I invited the baronet to join us this evening.” Carolyn reached for her cup. “I also have extended an invitation to others of my acquaintance so the party shall have a merry air.”

Penelope tapped her finger against her chins, then nodded. “That should work. Allow Vanessa to see the differences among the gentlemen who join you this evening, so that she might appreciate Sir Wilbur Franklin’s noble mien.”

Carolyn doubted that anyone save Penelope, whose generous spirit was well known, would use the word noble to describe the baronet. Yet her neighbor’s advice was sound. A bit of competition for Vanessa’s attention might urge the baronet to present his suit in short order. She smiled. Who would have thought that Penelope would give her the idea that was sure to turn this evening from a quiet party into a chance to resolve Vanessa’s future once and for all?

Carolyn raised her cup in a silent salute to her own thoughts. This could be the solution she had sought all Season.

Vanessa settled her bonnet more securely on her head as the tiger assisted her from the carriage in front of the house on Grosvenor Square. Leale followed. Vanessa was in a bang as she went toward the steps, bracing herself for having her ears boxed with her aunt’s dismay. Not only had Madame deBerg, the
modiste
, been eternally slow, but Leale had been in a fidget over waiting at the
modiste
’s shop for hours. The abigail had been furious that Vanessa did not explain exactly what had delayed her, but Vanessa had been in no mood to talk.

How could she tell dear Leale about her foolish call on Lord Mendoff? And how Lord Brickendon had come to her rescue? She hoped she could trust the viscount and his uncle to hold their tongues on this. She did not want to break Aunt Carolyn’s heart.

And now she must begin the search again to find someone to help her. Too many doors had been closed to her, and the only one that had opened.… She shuddered again. She must not stop now. She was sure she was close to discovering the truth about her brother. She wondered why her own government was so reluctant to release the information to her, but that answer was as impossible to find as Corey.

The front door opened just as she reached it. Quigley stood inside, his face naked of emotion as always. Leale nodded to him, then rushed up the steps to set out Vanessa’s gown for the gathering this evening. She turned, a warning frown on her face, but Vanessa pretended she had not seen her abigail’s fierce expression. She needed to speak to Quigley first.

The butler took Vanessa’s spencer. As he held it carefully, he said, “Lady Mansfield requested that you join her and Mrs. Downing in the blue sitting room upon your return.”

“Mrs. Downing? Is it so late?” Vanessa understood Leale’s distress if they were that dilatory in returning to the Square. She looked at the tall-case clock standing in one angle of the octagonal foyer. “It’s not yet two.” Dismay swept her. “What is wrong, Quigley?”

“My lady, to suggest that I would eavesdrop on your aunt’s conversation—”

Vanessa interrupted, with a smile, for they had come to points like this on more than one occasion at Wolfe Abbey, “Quigley, you are an excellent butler. Nothing happens in this house that you aren’t privy to. Is there something wrong at the Downing house?”

“I would as lief,” he said, drawing himself up to his lanky height, “say that Mrs. Downing is eager to determine what is taking place with your life, my lady. I did hear her mention Almack’s.”

“Oh, bother.” Vanessa grimaced as she looked at the stairs. “I should have guessed Penelope could not resist the chance to enjoy a bit of gossip at my expense.” She took a step toward the stairs, then paused. Facing the butler, she asked, “Has anything been delivered for me today?”

“No, my lady. Not yet.” She was unsure if it was her imagination or if his shoulders slumped a hairbreadth. The timber of his voice had not changed, but she knew he also missed her brother. Whether he also believed Corey was alive was something she had never asked him. She was afraid of what he might say. She did not want to be the only one who kept the hope from dying.

A knock halted her from asking that Quigley send any letters to her immediately. The butler grumbled something under his breath as he opened the door.

Vanessa’s eyes widened when she met Lord Brickendon’s. Their dark depths were as shuttered as Quigley’s face when he asked, “Is Lady Vanessa Wolfe in?”

“Whom may I say is calling?” Quigley returned as if Vanessa was not viewing the exchange.

Taking off his beaver, the viscount held it in one hand as he offered the butler a
carte des visites
. It was the same tan as his riding coat and buckskins. “Lord Brickendon. I have a message for her, which I would appreciate delivering in person.”

Vanessa did not wait for Quigley to turn to ask her if she wished to speak with the viscount. She had no interest in the canons of Society this afternoon. She must learn why Lord Brickendon was calling after saying goodbye to her less than an hour past.

“I would be delighted to speak with you, Lord Brickendon.”

The viscount’s Hessian boots marked each step as he crossed the harlequin pattern of the foyer floor. “I trust you will excuse this intrusion.”

“You must excuse
me
, my lord. I am just returned from my errands.”

A smile crept across his lips. “May I say that you look very well in the wake of your
errands?
”

She faltered, unsure what to say. No one else made her lose her wits as he did. As Quigley stepped back into the shadows, she said, “My aunt will be delighted with your call.”

“I have not come to give you a look-in.” He reached beneath his light brown coat and pulled out a folded sheet. “As I informed your man, I wanted to deliver this to you personally. I thought you might wish to know that my uncle has left Town, so he is unable to respond to your invitation.”

Vanessa struggled to keep her fingers from quivering as she reached for the letter she had labored to write last night after her visit to Almack’s. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“My lady, I can see that I have disturbed you greatly when all I wished was to let you know that my uncle did not intentionally ignore this missive.”

His deep voice, as he spoke the lies much more easily than she could have, contained such compassion that she raised her eyes before she realized her error. With her eyes caught by his gaze, which no longer was bereft of emotion, she feared he might be able to read her feelings more clearly than she could his.

“I ask again,” he continued when she said nothing, “to be forgiven for intruding on you. I had considered giving the letter to Sir Wilbur Franklin, so he could deliver it to you this evening, but the obligation to see that it was put in your hands was mine.”

“I truly appreciate your thoughtfulness.” She saw a flash of amusement in his eyes at her trite answer. “The baronet might not have appreciated its import.”

Lord Brickendon’s smile stole some of the harsh edge from his face. “You are the one who is thoughtful, my lady, to be so generous with your compliments to Franklin. It did not take keen eyes to note how uncomfortable you were last evening. He can be stifling to any lady he has set his heart upon.”

“I thought he was your friend.”

Lord Brickendon laughed so lowly that the sound would not climb the stairs to her aunt’s ears. “I accept the faults of my friends, as they accept mine, for I need not worry that I might have to buckle myself to one of them.”

When she smiled at his sally, Vanessa was astonished. She should not be smiling. In her hand, she held the proof that yet another route was closed to her. She should have been down-pinned, but she was not. Lord Brickendon’s teasing lightened her spirits.

Knowing that she was being bold as brass, she asked, “Might you do me a favor, my lord?”

“Another?” When she flushed, he added, “Of course, if it is within my power.” His eyes sparkled with the laughter in his voice. “What do you wish? A dragon slain? A castle stormed? A prisoner freed from a tower? I would do most anything to rid myself of the boredom of the endless rounds expected of one while in Town.”

Vanessa almost told him what she really needed, because his jesting came so close to the truth. Lord Mendoff was well connected with the government, so mayhap his nephew might know of a way to help her. She shrugged aside that tempting thought. Despite his honorable behavior this morning, she knew too little about Lord Brickendon to trust him. Others had laughed at her assertion that Corey was alive. She had vowed that never again would she suffer that mortification. Somehow she would find her answers herself.

“If it is not too much of an imposition, my lord, would you consider joining us this evening for a few hands of whist?” She heard voices coming toward the stairs and added in a rush, “I know my aunt would appreciate your company.”

“And I could stand as a buffer between you and Franklin’s attentions?”

His insight did not astonish her. He had revealed it every time they had spoken. She wished she could be as honest. “My lord, I had hoped that—in the presence of one he keeps in with—I might be able to see more clearly some of the fine attributes my aunt tells me he possesses.”

“To be offered the chance to allow you to see Franklin’s finer points is an appealing invitation.” He set his hat on his dark hair. “I would be a sap to turn it down. I look forward to speaking with you … and with Franklin this evening. For now, I suspect—although you are too polite to say—I am keeping you from other guests. Good afternoon, my lady.”

Vanessa did not move as Quigley abruptly appeared to open the door and close it behind the viscount. She pressed the letter to her bodice as she tried to settle her mind, which was telling her that she had wanted for sense to ask the viscount to return this evening. Lord Brickendon might be a stranger, but he treated her with the friendly indifference and respect she had enjoyed from her brother’s tie-mates. She appreciated not having to guard every word she spoke, because she feared he might take it as an invitation to dangle after her.

Lost in her musings, she was jolted back to herself when she heard her aunt telling Penelope to call again soon. Vanessa managed to say something in farewell to the dumpling-like woman. Her aunt’s face, which was set in lines of disapproval, warned Vanessa that her words had not been properly polished.

With rare meekness, she let Aunt Carolyn herd her up the stairs to the blue room. She deserved to be given the rough side of her aunt’s tongue. She would stand silently for the admonition and then retreat to her private room where she would try to think of someone else who might help her find Corey.

Aunt Carolyn sat prettily on the settee. Instead of flying out at Vanessa, she asked, “Do you have an excuse for being gone so long?”

“I was delayed.”

“At Madame deBerg’s?”

“Yes.”

“You were delayed only at the
modiste
’s shop?”

“No.”

“Then where?”

She glanced away, not wanting to lie, but knowing she must never speak the truth.

Her hesitation betrayed her to her aunt’s perceptive ears. “Vanessa, I have told you that you must give up this nonsense of looking for your brother. You shall ruin your reputation by lingering outside a minister’s door like a Cyprian plying her trade in Covent Garden.”

“Aunt Carolyn!” She bit back the rest of her retort. She must not let her aunt guess how closely her words came to the truth.

Carolyn wagged her finger under Vanessa’s nose. “You should sound shocked. You should
be
shocked. Not by my plainspoken words, but by your own acts. When will you see the futility of your efforts? If there was any news of the whereabouts of Corey’s remains, do you think the government would fail to share it with you?”

“I’m beginning to believe they would.”

“Vanessa!” she returned in the same appalled tone Vanessa had used. “I fear you have taken a maggot into your head over this whole
affaire
. You are throwing away your first Season to chase a dream that is dead.” Her voice gentled when tears bubbled into Vanessa’s eyes. “My dear child, you must stop being so fanciful! You need to put this pain behind you and look to your future.”

“How can I when I think of Corey so often?”

Rising and putting her arms around her niece, Aunt Carolyn whispered, “Then think of what he would wish you to do. He chose the path he did so you could have the life you deserve, the life your dear, late father wished you to have. Both of them, in their own ways, entrusted you to my care. If you honor their memories, and I know you do, you must listen to me and put aside this impossible quest. You must settle yourself into the life they would want you to have. You have the responsibility to oversee Wolfe Abbey and be sure the legacy your father left in your hands is well taken care of.”

“But it is Corey’s legacy.”

“Not now when he is dead.”

“He cannot be dead!”

“He can.”

Vanessa shook her head. She would not listen to these heartless words. If only Aunt Carolyn could believe as she did. Wiping tears from her icy cheeks, she whispered, “I shall never accept that until it is proven to me. I know Corey is still alive. Why won’t anyone listen to my plea to find out where he is?”