The Rakehell Regency(13)

Gerald opened his mouth to protest, but she forestalled him with her raised hand. "You've left me no choice, so I am leaving you none. If you want me to save you from penury, you'll do as I say. If you work hard, you'll prosper. If you choose to continue on as you have done, you'll have no one to blame except for yourself. And I shall do nothing to assist you ever again."



"But Vanessa--" he rasped, reddening with anger once more.



She sat her ground as he drew near, though all of her instincts screamed that she should flee. "It's your choice, Gerald. If the Hawkesworth estate goes into the red by so much as one penny, I shall turn it over to a more worthy tenant who will value it and accord it the respect it deserves. Our father loved this house and land. I wonder you can profane his memory by treating it all with such utter disregard."



"Not disregard. It was a run of bad luck--"



She gazed at him with undisguised scorn. "People make their own luck, Gerald. You'll have a spell of good luck if you shun the gaming tables and your drinking companions, and devote your considerable energies currently occupied with hunting, fishing and wenching to accounting, tilling and sowing instead."



"But Vanessa, a gentleman-"



She shook her head. "I don't wish to hear your definition of a gentleman. Not after you have determined that the debauched Clifford Stone of all people is a good match for me. And certainly not with the way you behave."



He came closer to stand over her almost menacingly. She rose from her seat and skirted past him, declaring as she did so, "I'll have the papers drawn up and the wedding shall go ahead as soon as possible by special license. I don't want to have the banns read out week after week and have everyone in the neighborhood tittering at my being made such a quiz of."



"Vanessa, please--"



She turned at the door to gaze at her half-brother levelly. "I'm sorry to be so blunt and harsh, and to set these terms. But if your burdens ever seem too onerous, please just recollect that it was your own folly which brought you to this pass. You may resent my decision, but given the fact that debtors' prison is your only other alternative, I expect you to be appropriately grateful."



"But Vanessa--"



"There is no more to be said upon the matter."



Vanessa turned on her heel without another word and went upstairs to her chamber, dark and heavy in navy blue with mahogany furniture. She had always found the chamber oppressive, but her father had insisted it was the best room in the house, and had taken her mother's chamber after her death as his own. She recalled his kind, gentle face with a pang, the way he had reassured her during her many nightmares as a small girl.



But he was not here now to rescue her from this one, she thought with a sigh. She stared at the adjoining door wistfully, almost fancying she could see the knob turn, and him coming in with a candle and a little gift or treat.



Vanessa sat down at the dressing table heavily and gazed at her pale reflection in the mirror. Though she had managed to appear outwardly calm, she had a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. She felt cornered, like a rabbit confronted by a stoat. She was sure in her heart of hearts that no good could come of this marriage. Yet what choice did she have?



She tried to remember anything she knew about Clifford Stone apart from what her half-brother had told her. Recollections of him as he had been at twenty-one, tall, as fair-haired as Adonis, handsome, were her only memories. He had always been kind to her, especially just after her mother had died, and again when she had returned from Dorset for her father's funeral several years later. He had not had the impatience for a young child of eight that her own brother had possessed, and had been exceptionally gallant to a gangling fourteen year-old who wept like a watering pot at the least little thing. He had been so kind, had seemed to listen to her attempts at adult conversation with a willing and patient ear.



Could he have changed so much? Metamorphosed into the depraved degenerate Gerald and their servants now whispered about? Gambling, wenching, drinking, committing depredations on their estate? She had heard he'd been in the Army. Had he come back scarred by that experience in mind if not body?



Vanessa shook her head. She had no idea what to think. The only logical approach to the problem would be to meet with him, attempt to get him to be reasonable. No man with any common sense would want to wed an unwilling bride, though she had to admit her fortune would tempt even the most intelligent and morally upright man. Tempt them despite the rumors of her eccentricities. In fact, that might be all the more tempting: to have an enfeebled wife completely at his mercy.