She nodded, trying not to flinch at how… vulnerable she felt with him behind her. “I would not object to that, Captain,” she forced out, motioning to Millie where the maid sat over by the kitchen.
Outside he summoned his borrowed barouche, making a show of pulling open the low door and handing her inside. Once she’d settled herself, he sat beside her, leaving Millie to clamber in on her own and take the rear-facing seat. “Back to Harris House, Tom,” Vale instructed the driver.
“I still don’t understand why you require me for any of this,” Miranda ventured. “Lord George is your cousin. You have a pathway toward respectability, though I’ve yet to see anyone so much as look askance at you.”
“How many people greeted you as we drove here?” he asked, sitting back to light a cheroot.
Miranda feigned a cough at the acrid smoke he blew into the air. “I don’t recall. Half a dozen or so?”
“Seven,” he corrected. “Which is seven more than greeted me.”
“That hardly signifies. You’re a stranger here. Once George has introduced you about, the—”
“Two points, Miranda. First, George Humphries is an amusing, bombastic fellow whom no one takes too seriously. While his initial introductions and living at his residence have proven helpful, I don’t wish to be paired in people’s minds with a fool for a moment longer than necessary. Second,” he went on, taking another pungent puff of his cheroot, “he isn’t my cousin.”
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. If Millie’s stunned expression mirrored hers, they both looked like gawping fish drowning in the air. Clamping her jaw shut again, she sent a quick glance forward at the driver’s perch. Tom was Lord George’s usual driver, but he didn’t so much as flinch at the revelation of this stunning bit of information. “How—”
“A debt considerably less significant than that of your brother.” Vale’s mouth curved into that brief, humorless smile again. “I didn’t decide on this course of action on a whim, Miranda. I found George Humphries first. He gained me entry into your very elite circle. At the moment that is a façade. Marrying you ensures that I remain here. A marriage renders the façade real.”
She wanted to fling open the low door of the barouche and run. In an odd sense she’d hoped he’d somehow become infatuated with her personally. If he liked her—and wanted her to like him—she could perhaps reason with him, convince him to leave Matthew and her alone. This, though… this water was far above her head, and she already felt like she was drowning.
“Mention me to your parents this evening,” he went on coolly, as if he hadn’t just flipped everything on its headonce again. “Mention that you enjoy my company, and that I’m looking for an appropriate residence in the immediate area, one suitable for raising a family. Ask your father if he has any ideas—and if he might be willing to assist me in making connections, as I am newly returned to London and he’s no doubt aware of Lord George’s frivolity and will understand my reluctance to rely on my cousin. Emphasize that you would be quite happy to have me nearby, and would detest the idea of me having to rejoin His Majesty’s Navy and sail away to parts unknown.”
“I will not bring my parents into this mess. I’m here in this barouche in order to avoid precisely that.”
“You will do it, unless you’d rather inform them that the Harris family owes me fifty thousand pounds. I know your family is comfortable, but not drowning in wealth. What the lot of you are is well connected. That is your value to me.” Vale blew out another smoky breath. “If you do something to devalue yourself, I’ll still have fifty thousand pounds to collect. If you were considering doing something so foolish, that is.”
Ruining herself was precisely what Aden MacTaggert had suggested. He’d even volunteered to assist her with that particular task, in a way that had made her insides feel jangly. Did all men think a woman’s best course to avoid an unwanted suitor was to be ruined and left forever unmarried?
It made for an interesting line of thought—but one she didn’t have time for at the moment. It was more significant that she now had some proof that Captain Vale and Aden MacTaggert thought in similar ways, and as long as Aden remained helpful, she would consider that an advantage. She’d guessed a card trick. How much assistance did that earn her? How much difficulty would he be willing to face before he decided he’d done enough? What, in short, was in this for him?
Her, of course, but though he’d said he liked her, that might only have been because she’d made a point of saying she didn’t like him. That had been stupid—though she hadn’t known at the time that her brother had been in the midst of selling her to cover his debts. No, it had been stupid because he wasn’t just a gambler. She’d judged one of the parts of him, and had decided that nothing else mattered. And in a few short days she’d already begun to realize that she had been both narrow-minded and shortsighted.
“I have no intention of ruining myself, Captain, and certainly not to spite someone else. Even you.”
Vale flicked the remains of his cheroot onto the street. “You do appear to have a logical bent that I didn’t expect. Matthew said you kept a level head, but he hasn’t precisely proven an exceptional judge of character. Or of the odds.”
No, Matthew had horribly misjudged several things, and she was the one paying the price. For every escape she imagined, Vale had already anticipated and countered it. Once again, her thoughts trotted down the path to the Highlander who’d unexpectedly given her the tiniest bit of hope, and a few other things to ponder. Aden’s involvement might well be the one thing Captain Valedidn’tknow about and hadn’t anticipated. She intended to keep it that way.
The carriage rolled to a halt outside Harris House.Thank goodness.She’d survived her first outing with this awful man, and she had two days to prepare for their next encounter. Just the idea of that next meeting made her heart shudder, but she hid her reaction as she stood and stepped to the ground.
“I’ll meet you at the Darlington ball,” he said, descending behind her. “Turn around and offer me both of your hands.”
She would rather have offered him both of her fists, but any brief satisfaction punching him might give her would be drowned out by the ruin that would likely befall her entire family. Miranda turned around and held out her hands to him.
He closed his fingers around hers, favoring her with his unsettling smile once more. “You will save me two dances. One of them will be a waltz.” His grip tightened just short of the point of pain before he released her. “Now smile as you walk into the house. Tell your parents how unexpectedly interesting you find me, and whatever else convinces them that you’re looking forward to seeing me again.”
“I will,” she said, though she wasn’t certain whether it was worse to have to recite the lies he’d provided, or to have to make up her own.
Once safely inside the house she just resisted the urge to wrench the door out of Billings’s grip and slam it shut, followed by dragging all the house’s furniture into the foyer and piling it against the entrance. But even here she had to keep up the ruse that she found Captain Vale interesting. If she couldn’t manage that, her parents would become suspicious. Once that happened, protecting them—and herself—would become much more problematic.
“I hope you had a pleasant afternoon, Miss Harris. You have a note from Lady Eloise,” the butler said, lifting a salver from the hall table.
Willing her fingers not to shake, Miranda took the missive from the tray and unfolded it. The handwriting inside looked nothing like Eloise’s looping, round hand. Neat, spare, and precise, it said only, “Go for a walk this afternoon at five o’clock. A.MT.”
Aden MacTaggert.Her hard heartbeat eased into asteadier rhythm. Aden hadn’t simply been paying lip service when he’d said he would help her. She’d half trusted him, and half thought he was merely looking to amuse himself. Instead, he’d already figured out how they would next meet, and without arousing Vale’s or anyone else’s suspicions. And she would damned well go out and meet him. Because as much as she disliked the idea of it all, Matthew owed that money. It wouldn’t take much of a nudge from Vale to induce her brother to report on all her comings and goings.
“Good news, I hope?” Millie said, as the maid trailed her upstairs.
