The Rakehell Regency(26)

Clifford nodded. "We're engaged to be married."



"Good Lord! When did this happen, and why have I not heard of it? Not been invited to your house for the celebrations?" he asked, evidently hurt by the seeming snub.



"Because, John, it only happened last evening. You shall hear all about it soon enough. The bald truth of the matter is that I won Vanessa's hand in a game of vignt-un at Peter Stephens' soiree last night."



Once again the gentle doctor was rendered speechless by Clifford's revelations. His gray brows knit and he shook his head incredulously and moved over to the sideboard to pour them all a stiff brandy.



Malcolm supplied the details of the previous evening's events, omitting only the fact that he had cheated and dealt his friend two winning hands on purpose in order to save her from the Cavendishes and her cousin Peter, who was cold, calculating, ambitious to a fault.



"I'm glad you saved her from her cousin Toby, a tippler and loose fish if ever there was one. He's the scourge of brothels, gaming hells and gentlemen's clubs from all I hear. But you actually intend to go through with the nuptials?" he asked, staring at Clifford as though he had never seen him before.



"I do. Surely her present state is ample demonstration of the fact that she is not safe at Hawkesworth House and needs someone to look after her."



The doctor tisked at his friend's strong words, and continued to busy himself with a purgative and some herbs for a few moments. He began to make her more comfortable by removing all of the enveloping cloaks wrapped around her, and settling her under a thick blanket.



"I'm not saying you're wrong about the cyanide," he said as he fussed over the poor girl like an anxious mother hen. "I'm only saying that we have no sufficient proof. It could be something as simple as a rancid oyster or trichinosis."



"And I tell you, Gerald will stop at nothing to get her money. She won't be safe until she's married to me and resident at Stone Court."



Dr. Gold shrugged. "You are a grown man of twenty-six, and possessed of more than your fair share of intelligence and common sense. You ought to know your own mind, though I fear your decision is a rather impetuous one made as a result of the two startling events of the past twenty-four hours.



"It's very admirable of you to want to come to her rescue, but I feel it incumbent upon me to remind you of precisely what marriage entails. It's not something to be entered into lightly. I would have you experience wedded bliss, rather than Hell on earth."



Clifford stared at the older man, startled.



Dr. Gold gave him a weary smile. "Forgive me for being so blunt. I count you as a true friend and wish to pass on the benefit of my wisdom, gleaned through bitter experience. My own marriage was a desperate failure, tied as I was to a woman I could neither respect nor admire when my heart longed for another. By the time my wife died a miserable woman old before her time, my first love was also dead and gone."



"I'm sorry, John."



"Or if my example is not enough to make you pay heed to my warning, just remember Joseph Marchant's poor wife, married against her will when she loved another. She could not help herself, gave way to her passion in a moment of weakness, and ended up in a cold pauper's grave for her tiny indiscretion. Can you promise me that you're not simply pursuing the girl for her fortune?"



Malcolm handed Clifford a basin of warm water to bathe Vanessa's face. The tall blond man sought to maintain his composure as he considered the doctor's warning.



"I won't lie and say the money does not sway me, for it would indeed tempt a saint. As you well know, I am no saint. For my own part, I've never been in love. Nor have I had any physical relationship or even so much as a dalliance with any woman for quite some time. Not since the Pearson widow set her cap at me with her flirtation and very nearly succeeded in ruining us both."



"I remember, old friend. You had a lucky escape there," Malcolm said with a wry twist of his refined mouth.



"Indeed. I was sure I was ruined, until everyone found out she'd been having an intrigue with Edmund Cavendish all along. In the end I was merely seen as a trusting fool. Edmund was deemed the victim of a much older woman's wiles, though he has proven himself a lewd profligate in the interim.



"The widow and I did not have an affaire, though everyone believes we did. She was inviting enough, but too scheming for my tastes. I'm glad I discovered her true nature before I took any irrevocable steps and then found myself saddled with her forever, along with a child of uncertain parentage. Not that I would have blamed the child, of course."



"No, of course not," both the doctor and Malcolm put in indignantly.