The Rakehell Regency(51)

"I'd like you to come home with me to Stone Court directly from here. We can be married in the garden at the back of the house. There's a terrace, and the almanac tells me we have a spate of fine weather on its way."



She stared at him. "You really mean to go ahead with this farcical scheme to try to force me to marry you?" she demanded sharply.



Clifford blinked. "Force you? Don't be ridiculous. I've done everything I can to protect you and your reputation-"



"But you're still insisting that we marry."



Clifford lost his patience then. "I have no wish to argue with you. But just keep in mind that you could do a damn sight worse than me. Any one of a number of fortune hunters and debauchers could have won your hand. Have you met the three eldest Cavendish cousins recently? They are notorious amongst the women hereabouts. Gerald was not particular about who put up a stake of five thousand pounds, only that they had the money."



Vanessa glared at him.



Clifford continued to press his suit even though he felt it hopeless with the way she was looking at him. "I know he's lied about me, done his best to ruin my good name. I give you my word, Vanessa, I played only to avoid you being given to a man you would despise or be fearful of. Malcolm ensured all was done fairly by acting as dealer. He is a good, decent man, and your fortune would certainly have been a boon to his family. Yet even he did not wish to gamble for you, not for your inheritance, but also not even to protect you."



"Protect me? But--"



He pressed on to cover over his mistake. "Protect your reputation. I don't expect to be thanked for my chivalry. I behaved in the manner I thought was natural and just. I don't wish for gratitude. I am merely stating my reasons for acting as I did. We were friends, and can be friends again if you'll just take me as you find me. Many marriages have been founded upon a lot less common ground."



She looked at him doubtfully.



He heaved a ragged sigh, and ran one finger around the inside of his stock to ease its chafing. "I may be many things, but hypocrite and liar are not amongst them. I give you my word, Vanessa, if you decide at the end of the week that you cannot abide me, we'll make other arrangements for your well being and protection of your good name. But for now, just give me a chance to prove to you that my intentions are honorable."



She wished she could detect any sign of dissimulation on his handsome features, but found none. All she could see was passionate conviction and a seeming earnestness she had never encountered before.



"Very well, I agree," she said tentatively, pleating the sheet under her hand nervously. "If I can find no fault with you, I shall marry you. But I expect absolute candor."



"Done. If there's anything you need to know, I shall tell you."



Of course, his own definition of 'need' would have to apply, but he told himself that he was only trying to protect her. Blurting out his suspicions of her half-brother being a highwayman and murderer were not amongst those things she had to know at this time.



"In that case, tell me about you and Henry growing up."



Clifford smiled broadly. "Gladly. That's easy. So many happy memories."



Vanessa stared, sure she had never seen a more handsome man as he recounted their boyish escapades, hunting, fishing, and falling in love with the serving girls.



"And no doubt ruining one or two of them," she could not help observing acerbically.



Clifford's eyes narrowed. "I admit my closest school friends and I were known as the Rakehells, but that was mainly due to our Radical politics, not our pursuit of women. We would argue with our teachers, and were real hell raisers whenever we perceived injustice. But we were not despoilers of females.



"Henry and I were taught to respect all women. No serving maid has ever been dismissed from our house for that reason. Ask anyone in the village. We have several wedded couples working with us, but their marriages always took place well before, rather than after, any babes were born."



"What a relief."



He ignored the barbed comment. "My closest friends are the same. We are after all judged by the company we keep. Debates, drink on special occasions, though never to excess, and bit of card playing, but no worse than that. In fact, Thomas Eltham, the Duke of Ellesmere, does not gamble or hunt at all, he's so strict and morally upright."



"Can it also be said that our serving women are untainted?" she challenged pettishly.



He gave her a sharp look, aware of the unspoken accusation, and shrugged. "So far as I know, you haven't had any for some time. Only men."



But Gerald had said Clifford was responsible for despoiling their serving wenches...