The thought gave her a delicious warmth in unexpected places.
“Are you listening to me, girl?” her mother asked.
Vanessa jumped. “Yes, Mama,” she lied.
That launched her mother into another rant, this one about how ungrateful a child Vanessa was, and how she would rue the day she married Sheridan. But when Mama insisted he was only marrying her for her dowry, Vanessa had taken all she could.
She pivoted away from the window. “He can have every penny of my dowry if it means I get to leave this house. I don’t care about my dowry. I would happily throw it into his lap. I just didn’t want . . . I don’t want . . .”
Oh, what was the use in saying this was the last way on Earth Vanessa had wanted to gain Sheridan? That she might have borne having him court and wed her for her dowry, but having him forced into marriage because of a bit of enjoyment seemed utterly wrong? Especially since she had provoked him into it. If this had taught Vanessa anything, it was that using manipulation to get what one wished never ended well.
No, her mother wouldn’t understand Vanessa’s feelings. In Mama’s view of the world, a young marriageable woman should use her dowry as bait to fish out the highest quality of suitor possible. Indeed, under normal circumstances, if a duke like Sheridan were rich, he would be Mama’s idea of the perfect suitor.
But Sheridan was not only supposedly lacking in funds, he was Grey’s brother and the dowager duchess’s son, which was adding insult to injury. There was simply no getting around that in her mother’s mind. Especially after yesterday’s contretemps. Not only would Sheridan be forced to marry Vanessa, but he would also be forced to convince a woman he despised to let Vanessa marry him.
That is, if he and her uncle didn’t go straight to killing each other. The very possibility sent a chill straight to her heart.
“I tell you this, little missy,” her mother said. “If Armitage offers, you’d better accept. You are teetering dangerously near to landing a permanent spot on the shelf, and these past few days have taxed my patience beyond all bearing.” Her mother marched over to her. “So if you do refuse him, I swear I will lock you up in your room until—”
“You will do no such thing, Cora,” her uncle said from the doorway. “I will not allow it.”
Vanessa whirled around to find Uncle Noah standing there alone. Her heart sank. Where was Sheridan? What had happened?
Her uncle stared grimly at his sister. “I require a moment alone with my niece.”
Mama opened her mouth as if to protest, then seemed to think better of it. If there was anyone in the world her mother was afraid to challenge, it was Uncle Noah. “Very well,” she said. “But not too long. I shall have to make plans concerning what to do with the girl one way or the other.”
That sounded ominous. Thank heaven Uncle Noah was taking charge of the situation. Although once Mama was gone, Uncle Noah’s mood only seemed to grow darker.
“I have one question for you, my dear. There is no right or wrong answer, only the truth. Whatever you tell me, I want you to know I am on your side.”
That too sounded rather ominous. “A-All right. What is it?”
“Did Armitage take liberties with you against your will?”
The very question perplexed her. “No, indeed. Why? Did he say he did?”
Her uncle relaxed enough to flash her a rueful smile. “He said, and I quote, ‘I have a funny feeling if I ever attempted it, she would cut me up and eat me for breakfast.’”
She laughed. “How gruesome. That doesn’t sound like Sheridan.” Her amusement faded. “Then again, I begin to think I don’t know him nearly as well as I thought.”
Uncle Noah sighed. “You’re in a devil of a situation, my dear.”
“I know. But just because he doesn’t wish to marry me—”
“What? No, he said at once that he would.”
She turned away, her insides knotting up. “Then why isn’t he here?”
“He is. He’s waiting in the hall. I didn’t want him near you until I determined how much of this situation was his fault alone.”
Tears stung her eyes. Her uncle really was very kind. Not many men would have taken such care for her feelings. If Papa had been alive, he would have shot Sheridan, no matter how much she protested. Uncle Noah was at least giving them a chance.
“Thank you, Uncle, for stepping into Papa’s place. As I’m sure you realize, Mama would have handled everything very badly.”
“True. My sister doesn’t know what to do with you, never has. She’s jealous of how close you and Grey are, but she can’t control him, which is why she tries to take it out on you. I blame myself for that. I’m sorry I didn’t come to London sooner to do my duty by you.”
“You had your wife to look after. I always understood that.”
“That was no excuse. But I’m here now, and may God strike me down if I don’t make sure you are properly married to the right man.”
“May I come in?” said a voice from the doorway.
Sheridan. She swallowed hard. She couldn’t tell from his usual stoic expression how he felt about this.
“Uncle, could Sheridan and I have a few moments alone?”
Her uncle looked from her to Sheridan. “All right. But I’ll be in the hall. And the door will remain open.”
Good Lord. She really had landed herself “in a delicate situation,” at least as far as Uncle Noah was concerned.
“Of course,” Sheridan said before she could. “We merely need to . . . settle some matters.”
With an understanding nod, Uncle Noah left them together.
Sheridan dragged in a heavy breath. “I don’t know if your uncle told you, but you and I must marry.”
The word must rankled. It implied that both of them were being forced, when she felt anything but that. “I don’t see why we must. The only people who saw us together were Mama and Uncle Noah, and it’s not as if they would tell anyone.” She wasn’t about to reveal the cruel things her mother had said about what she’d do if Vanessa refused him.
“Did your mother not tell you how they found you?”
“No. I . . . never thought to ask.” She’d been too worried about what would happen as a result.
“Your mother kept a watch on your garden to make sure you didn’t slip out. But when she noticed you always had your back to the window and weren’t doing any real gardening, she marched out and made your lady’s maid tell her where you were. Of course, Bridget thought you and I and Juncker were in my carriage, since that was apparently the plan. When your mother hurried to the front and didn’t see a carriage, she wasn’t quite sure where to go.”
This was bad, very bad.
Sheridan continued his tale in a somber tone. “Then your uncle arrived for his visit. His carriage had already passed Juncker a couple of blocks away. He’d assumed Juncker was leaving after visiting you. But your mother met him at the door and made him help her find you. So he caught up to Juncker and demanded to know where his niece was. Juncker hesitated to tell him, but not for long, as you might imagine. And that’s how they discovered where we were.”
“I see.”