Courting Miss Vallois (16 page)

The poor fellow looked ghastly. His face was riddled with lines and his eyes were two dark, shadowy pools of despair. ‘You're not well. Let me call you a carriage.'

Welton looked up, his eyes finally focusing. ‘S-Silverton?'

‘Yes. I'm going to take you home—'

‘Can't,' the man muttered. ‘Not…mine…'

Welton had obviously been drinking heavily. He sagged and would have fallen had Robert not caught him and held him up. ‘You need a doctor!'

‘Nothing a doctor can f-fix,' the young man said, his words badly slurred. ‘Owns it all…'

‘Who owns it?'

‘Trusted him, you s-see. But it was…all lies. Should have checked…' Welton went on, his eyes glazed, his mouth slack. ‘Nothing left.'

Robert's mouth tightened in anger. He'd never seen Welton in such a state. One thing he knew for sure, he couldn't leave the man alone in the middle of the street, at the mercy of pickpockets and thugs. Instead, he hailed a hackney and gave the driver Welton's address. Once inside, he tried to get the information he needed. ‘Lawrence, who did this to you?'

‘Thought he was…m'friend,' the man mumbled, shaking his head. ‘Enemy, more like.' Then he laughed—a rough, grating sound that was filled with despair. ‘Stuck a knife in my back.'

‘Then you must speak to someone. If you've been cheated—'

‘Never prove it…' He unsteadily raised his hand and pointed a finger at Robert. ‘Not a friend of yours.'

He passed out soon after—which made getting him out of the carriage even more difficult. Had it not been for the help of Welton's valet, Robert wasn't sure he would have managed. And once inside the house, it took both of them to get the poor man up the stairs and into his bed.

‘I'll see to him now, sir,' the valet said. ‘Thank you for bringing him home.'

‘It's Finch, isn't it?'

‘That's right, sir.'

‘Is your master in trouble? He mentioned something about…losing it all.'

The valet's face fell. ‘So it's happened. I feared it might. But he kept on saying the gentleman wouldn't do it.'

‘What gentleman?' Feeling completely in the dark, Robert said, ‘Can you tell me what's going on?'

‘He wouldn't wish me to, sir,' the servant said, glancing at Lawrence's unconscious figure. ‘A proud man is Mr Welton. Far better than those who've used him.'

It was clear that something very bad had happened to Lawrence Welton and that his servant was reluctant to say anything. Robert could appreciate that. He wouldn't wish his own man to divulge anything of a personal nature with regard to his affairs. ‘Please give him my best,' Robert said. ‘Tell him I'll call round in the morning to see how he is.'

The valet looked grateful. ‘Thank you, sir. I'll do that.'

 

As it turned out, however, Welton was not in town the next morning. He sent Robert a note thanking him for his help and informing him that he was removing to the country for an indefinite period of time. The letter was brief, the handwriting that of a man unsteady of mind and body…

Robert dropped the letter on the table—
‘…serpents hide behind handsome eyes.'
He would have had to have been blind not to understand that reference.

Oberon!

 

‘Excuse me, miss, but Mr Oberon is asking to see you,' Banyon said from the doorway of the drawing room.

Sophie stiffened, the magazine in her hands forgotten. She hadn't seen Oberon since the night of the fiasco at Lady Chiswick's and she wondered why he had come now. No doubt, thoughts of marriage were far from his mind. ‘Please tell him I am not at home.'

The butler sighed. ‘He said that if that was your answer I was to give you this.' He handed her a sealed note. ‘He said it had to do with Miss Silverton.'

Sophie quickly broke the wafer and read the note
through. ‘Show him in.' She refolded the note and got to her feet. ‘But come back in five minutes with the message that Lady Longworth wishes to see me.'

‘Very good, miss.' The butler withdrew, concern etched deep into his normally imperturbable features.

Moments later, Oberon appeared in the doorway. ‘Miss Vallois. I hope you will forgive the boldness of my letter, but I knew you would wish to hear what I had to say about Miss Silverton.'

Sophie nodded, her mouth as dry as old paper. ‘I am interested, of course, though I am surprised you would wish to come here after what happened at Lady Chiswick's.'

‘Yes, a most unfortunate incident for all concerned,' Oberon said, not quite meeting her eyes. ‘Truths revealed in such a way always leave a bitter aftertaste. But I think we shall put that aside for the moment. I've come to talk to you about Miss Silverton and the tragic situation in which she finds herself.'

Sophie's hand tightened on the parchment. ‘It is only tragic because it is all lies.'

‘Unfortunately, it is the word of a gentleman against hers,' Oberon said. ‘A well to do gentleman, so my sources inform me.'

Sophie stilled. ‘Do you know who he is?'

‘What would you do if I said I did? Beg that I might tell you so you could go and confront him?'

‘Most certainly! I would tell him to his face that he was a coward and demand that he exonerate Miss Silverton at once!'

‘My word, such passion,' Oberon mused. ‘If I were Miss Silverton, I would consider myself fortunate in having your friend ship.'

‘It is I who consider myself fortunate in having hers,' Sophie answered. ‘Someone has told a hurtful and outrageous lie. Jane would
never
behave in such a manner. Surely you know that. You, who have been acquainted with her
and
her brother for such a long time.'

‘Yes, I have known them, and I agree they are both exceptionally good people—which is why I've come to see you. I have a proposition for you.'

Her eyes opened wide. ‘A proposition.'

‘Yes. A few days ago, I asked you to accept my proposal of marriage.'

‘Which, given what you learned at Lady Chiswick's, you now wish to retract.'

‘Not exactly.' Oberon strolled around the room, his hands linked loosely behind his back. ‘Though I was not…pleased to learn of your former employment, I am willing to overlook it. You would not be the first governess to be raised to the position of a nobleman's wife. As to the confusion over your…identity, I seem to remember Jane once mentioning that your middle name was Chantal, and I suspect Beaudoin to be a maiden name, perhaps on your mother's side?'

Sophie suddenly felt cold, as though an icy draught had blown through the room. ‘Yes, that's right.'

‘So in essence, you told no lies at all.'

‘Perhaps not, but what of my claim that I do not love you?'

‘
Love.
That is the
least
of my concerns,' Oberon said dismissively. ‘An antiquated notion, best left to poets and the publishers of gothic romances.
I
am in need of a wife and
you
are an incredibly beautiful woman who has bewitched me in every sense of the word. Therefore,
I make you an offer.
If
I could resolve Miss Silverton's unhappy situation, would you agree to marry me?'

Sophie took a quick, sharp breath. ‘Resolve it? How?'

‘I am not without influence in society. I know the ears in which to whisper. If I said I could prove the gentleman was lying—?'

‘You would do that for Jane?'

‘No. I would do it for
you.
All you have to do is say yes. And I will give you three days in which to decide.'

‘Three days?' A quiver of fear rippled down Sophie's spine. ‘You did not set a time limit on my answer before.'

‘I think we both know the circumstances have changed. However, I am willing to make it a week. But do not ask me again.' He turned and slowly closed the distance between them. ‘I am far too generous with those I care about—'

‘Excuse me, Miss Vallois,' Banyon said, appearing in the open doorway, ‘but her ladyship has returned and is asking to see you right away.'

Dieu merci!
It had been the longest five minutes of her life. ‘Thank you, I shall come at once.' Sophie turned back to her visitor, her mind in turmoil. ‘Good afternoon, Mr Oberon. Banyon will see you out.'

The dismissal was plain. Oberon bowed, but the look in his eyes was far from amiable. ‘Thank you, but I know the way. And I will call again in one week from today, Miss Vallois. When I look forward to hearing the words that will make me…a very happy man.'

S
ophie didn't bother telling Nicholas and Lavinia about Mr Oberon's outrageous offer. What would be the point? They would never advise her to accept it, and in fact would probably have told her she was mad for even hearing the man out! But while refusing his offer was certainly in
her
best interests, what would it do to Jane?
She
was the one who stood to lose everything if the rumours weren't laid to rest.

No, there
had
to be a way around the problem, Sophie reflected as the Longworth carriage rattled and bounced its way to Lady White's town house. The gregarious hostess had again invited the four of them to attend one of her impromptu soirées, and while Antoine had declined, Sophie had accepted with alacrity. She knew that Robert would be there, given that he had once told her that Lady White actually
enjoyed
the notoriety of having him present, and with luck, she might be able to talk to him about her predicament. Maybe he could
think of a way to persuade Mr Oberon to help Jane without asking the impossible of her.

It might be grasping at straws, but she was running out of time! She had to convince Mr Oberon to save Jane's reputation without making her agreement to marry him a condition of his doing so. She had to make him understand that marriage without love would be anathema for both of them. Difficult given that he'd already told her love was the purview of poets and penny novelists. But make him understand she would. Because now, more than ever, her future happiness depended on it.

‘Nicholas, Lavinia, how lovely to see you both again,' Lady White greeted them. ‘And Miss Vallois, looking as elegant as ever. How are you, my dear?' She leaned in close and winked. ‘I understand you've been having quite the goings on of late.'

A little embarrassed, Sophie nevertheless managed a smile. ‘I'm fine, Lady White.'

‘Good, because no one really cares what Eudora Chiswick thinks. She's an insufferable mushroom whose husband only married her because her father made a fortune in trade and the Chiswick estate was falling into total disrepair. You're better than the lot of them and that includes her stuck up sister-in-law, Constance. As for poor Miss Silverton—' Lady White broke off, sighing. ‘Now there is a truly unfortunate turn of events. I despaired of the poor child marrying before, but there's not a hope she'll find a husband now. Dreadful state of affairs. I wish I could do something to help. But now, here is our dashing Mr Silverton. I dare say you won't mind spending a little time with him.'

With that, Lady White drew Nicholas and Lavinia away, no doubt to quiz them about exactly what
had
happened on the terrace at Lady Chiswick's, and the details of poor Jane's disgrace.

‘She is an incorrigible gossip,' Robert said, ‘but she means well. And there are times when we all need the company of those who don't give a damn about society.' His jaw clenched. ‘I also knew there was absolutely no chance of running into Oberon here.'

At the mention of the man who held both Jane's future and her own in the palm of his hand, Sophie said, ‘I was hoping you would be here tonight, Mr Silverton—'

‘I was Robert to you in the garden,' he interrupted quietly. ‘Am I not Robert to you any more?'

Sophie felt the familiar quickening of her pulse that told her this was more than just nerves. It went deeper…to a longing she couldn't put a name to. That she was afraid to put a name to. ‘Forgive me, but I wasn't sure…after what happened between us at Lady Chiswick's, and I received your note cancelling our outing—'

‘Surely you understood why I did that?' Robert said. ‘I couldn't allow my desire to see you to add to the stories I feared might already be circulating. We were fortunate Lady Annabelle spoke up on our behalf, but if people saw us together, they would suspect there was…something more. I couldn't risk having you share in my humiliation.'

‘But when Lavinia and I came to see you the other night, you left so abruptly,' Sophie said.

‘Yes, to see Oberon. I had to meet with him, and it was not pleasant.'

‘Oberon!' Sophie said, the name torn from her. ‘I am
sick to death of Mr Oberon! Robert, there is something I must speak to you about and it is awkward in the extreme. But I don't know who else to turn to.'

‘Come,' he said, lightly putting his hand on her waist. ‘I know of a place where we can talk.'

And he did. A few minutes later, Sophie found herself seated across from him at a table in a small alcove just off the drawing room. Five card tables had been set up in the main part of the room, and several foursomes were already engaged in play. Conversation was brisk, laughter was frequent, and though Sophie and Robert were separate from the rest, there was no question of their being alone. Robert was right. Neither of them could afford a repeat of what had happened in the garden at Lady Chiswick's. Lady Annabelle Durst would not be waiting around the corner to save them this time.

‘Well, Miss Vallois?'

Sophie bit her lip. Where did she start? There was so much to say. ‘This is not going to be easy to tell you, but earlier this afternoon, Mr Oberon came to see me.'

She saw his hands tighten on the table. ‘And Lady Longworth didn't throw him out on his ear?'

‘Lavinia wasn't home. And I did ask Banyon to send him away, but Mr Oberon said he had news that would be of interest to me.'

‘And had he such news?'

‘He did. He told me he intends to find the man who started this terrible rumour about Jane and to use his position in society to make the man confess to lying.'

‘Did he indeed?' The words were carefully noncommittal, but Robert's eyes glittered like shards of
ice. ‘A generous offer. What did he ask in exchange for this boon?'

Sophie swallowed, knowing this was going to be the hard part. ‘My acceptance…of his proposal of marriage.'

Robert's face went as still as death. ‘Tell me you didn't agree.'

‘Of course not! I was too shocked by what he suggested even to think straight. So he told me he would give me time to consider my answer.'

‘How long?'

‘One week.'

‘Do you need that long to decide?'

‘Of course not. I do not love Mr Oberon and I certainly don't want to marry him. But he has the power to restore Jane's good name, Robert, which is why I cannot simply dismiss this out of hand. I have been desperately trying to think of a way around it.'

‘Jane would be the
last
one to wish you to marry for such a reason,' Robert said harshly. ‘And as much as I love my sister, restoring her reputation is no reason for you to throw
your
life away. Oberon is not a kind man.'

‘Yet he has offered to set this terrible matter right.'

‘Perhaps because he was the one who set it wrong in the first place.'

Sophie gasped. ‘Surely he would not do something so reprehensible. He is your friend.'

‘He
was
my friend. I have since come to learn that friendship means something entirely different to Oberon.'

Their eyes met across the table, and Sophie saw how deep Robert's enmity went. ‘He said something else. About a wager made some time ago, involving his stal
lion and a ring belonging to your family. Do you know what he was talking about?' She saw his shoulders stiffen and knew she had her answer. ‘I see that you do.'

‘There would be no point in my trying to deny it. The wager is written down in a place where any gentleman in London could see it. But I am far more concerned with what he told you
about
it than with the fact that it exists.'

‘He said you were looking for the most beautiful woman in London to be your mistress,' Sophie said quietly. ‘He said the wager was your idea—'

‘
My
idea?'

‘Yes. He believes gambling is your way of dealing with what life has thrown at you.'

There were times, Sophie realised, when words were not enough to describe the depth of anger in a man's soul. This was one of those times. ‘I trust Oberon mentioned that he was also a party to this wager?'

‘He did, but he said you put his name to it against his will.'

His anger became a cold, dangerous fury. ‘By God, even I had not thought him so devious. For what it's worth, the wager was
not
my idea and I did
not
agree to participate in it. Oberon has told you a monstrous lie, and I suspect a good many others as well. But only one thing matters right now, Sophie. Do you believe him? After all, it is my word against his.'

‘Yes, it is, and I do
not
believe him, Robert. How could I, knowing what I do of you?' She looked down, reluctant to meet his eyes. ‘Knowing what has…passed between us. But neither did I wish to keep my knowledge of the wager, or anything else he said to me, a
secret from you. I would have honesty between us, if nothing else.'

‘If nothing else.' Robert stared at the table, as if to see answers magically appear in the surface. But there were no easy answers. They both knew that.

‘Sophie,' Robert said finally, ‘this is neither the time nor the place, but I must say something because this cannot go on a moment longer.' He looked up, and his burning gaze held her still. ‘If I was to secure Lord Longworth's approval, would you allow me to speak to you?'

For a moment, it was as though her brain shut down. As though his words failed to penetrate the fog swirling around her. He wished to
speak
to her? But…a gentleman did
not
ask to speak to a lady unless he intended to speak of marriage. And he had already told her he had no intention of marrying. Besides, there was the issue of her being French—

‘Your hesitation leads me to believe you are not as firmly fixed in your affections as I had hoped,' Robert said slowly. ‘If that is the case—'

‘No, I know exactly where my affections lie.' Sophie pressed her hand to her throat, aware that her heart was beating so loud he must surely hear it. ‘But I thought…that is, we have both stated our intentions not to marry. And yet…' She looked at him and her breath cut off. ‘Here we are.'

To her surprise, he smiled. ‘Yes, here we are—and you still haven't answered my question.'

Laughter erupted from one of the card tables. Sophie heard the clink of a glass and the muted sounds of a string quartet coming from another room. Candles sputtered and perfume wafted and, wonder of wonders,
Robert wished to speak to her. ‘Yes, I would allow it,' she said. ‘Most happily, I would.'

It was not triumph she saw in his eyes. It was…peace. He reached for her hands and drew them to his lips, oblivious to anyone who might be watching. ‘Do not consider Oberon's offer. Ignore him. Stall him. Lie to him, if you must, I really don't care. All I know is that he
is
the man behind these rumours, and that once I have proof, I'm going to expose him for the blackguard he is. He'll never bother you again, Sophie. On that, you have my word!'

 

It was with that same sense of purpose that Robert set out the following morning. His brief conversation with Lord Longworth before he'd left Lady White's had resulted in the meeting he was about to have, and over the last few hours, he had gone over the details of what he wanted to say. In light of recent developments, matters had reached a point where something had to be done.

Oberon had betrayed him. Heartlessly. Unemotionally. Irreparably. He had lied
to
him and told lies
about
him—and to the only woman who had ever mattered. For that, Robert would make him pay. He was shown into Lord Longworth's library and found the gentleman waiting for him. ‘Good morning, my lord.'

‘Robert.' Longworth waved him into a chair. ‘Can I offer you something in the way of refreshment? I fear it's a bit early for brandy.'

‘Thank you, but I won't take up much of your time. I've come to speak to you about Mr Oberon and Miss Vallois.'

‘Have you indeed?' Longworth sat down in the chair opposite. ‘What is it you wish to say?'

‘I am aware that Oberon has spoken to you about his interest in Miss Vallois and that you have given him your permission to speak to her. I would ask you now to revoke that permission at the earliest possible opportunity.'

A brief hesitation. ‘I take it you have a good reason for asking?'

‘I have two. The first is that I believe Oberon to be a liar and totally without character. The second is that I am in love with Miss Vallois and wish to marry her myself.'

Longworth's brows rose. ‘Perhaps not too early for that drink after all.' He got up and crossed to the sideboard. Pouring two glasses of brandy, he handed one to Robert, tossed back his own and sat down again. After a moment, he said, ‘You've made some very strong statements. Would you care to back them up with fact? Apart from your feelings of affection for Sophie. I think I understand those well enough.'

‘I do not make the claims lightly, my lord, but because of something that happened between Oberon and myself a few weeks ago, I believe he is behind the despicable stories circulating with regard to my sister.' And then briefly, but succinctly, Robert told the man everything. His conversation with Oberon at the Black Swan, the nature of the mistress wager, and the depth of his concern about the other man's growing obsession with Sophie. The only thing he left out was Oberon's most recent proposition. Judging from the expression on Longworth's face, Robert suspected Oberon would have been facing pistols at dawn. As it was, Longworth
swore viciously under his breath. ‘By God, if what you say is true, the man should be shot!'

‘I have every reason to believe it is true, but he will certainly deny it if asked. When I spoke to Miss Vallois yesterday about my concerns regarding Oberon's involvement in Jane's disgrace, I saw how shocked and displeased she was. It was last night at Lady White's that I asked if I could speak to her, if you were to give your approval. I'm well aware that my own position in society does not recommend me in any way.'