polished front of his desk.
She licked dry lips before sneaking a peek at Lord Warrick. He remained statue-like, his face devoid of emotion, except for his hostile pewter eyes. “Not much, I fear. I felt unwell, and Lord Warrick assisted me from the ballroom. I fainted, then awoke in the lady’s retiring room.”
Blowing out a lengthy sigh, Uncle Gideon eyed Lord Warrick. “You’re quite sure you won’t have a seat?”
“Quite.”
Crossing the carpet to sit beside Vangie, holding himself stiffly erect, Uncle Gideon cleared his throat.
“Vangie, you and the viscount were discovered in, ah . . . an indiscrete circumstance.” His gaze swept his lordship once more. “Though after questioning him, I am inclined to believe the entire incident was most innocent.”
Lord Warrick raised his chestnut brows. His mouth tilted into a jeering grin. “I’m grateful for your confidence, sir, I’m sure.”
Uncle Gideon ignored him. Vangie could not. Her heart quickened in a peculiar mixture of consternation and relief. Consternation caused by Lord Warrick’s dark temper, and relief that the situation wasn’t dire after all.
“That’s what this is about? My fainting and Lord Warrick helping me?” A heavy yoke lifted from Vangie’s shoulders. “Faith, it’s all a simple misunderstanding, thank goodness.”
Laughter bubbled to the surface again, but she only allowed her lips to tilt upward a smidgeon. It wouldn’t do to skip around the room in celebration, grinning like a jingle-brained ninny. “Certainly, there is no need for matrimony if we,” she met both of their gazes, “agree nothing unseemly occurred.”
“I concur,” said Lord Warrick scowling.
Vangie’s smile broadened. “No indeed. No need at all.”
Her relief was heady, and not even Lord Warrick’s dour expression could wipe the smile from her lips. Gracious, but the man was Friday-faced. She’d nothing but pity for the unfortunate woman who did eventually find herself his viscountess, poor wretch.
“Nonetheless, as deplorable as it is, my dear,” said Uncle Gideon, “I’m afraid several peeresses saw you in a partially unclothed state and are spreading the most contemptible tales.”
He gave her hand a small squeeze. “Vangie, I promised your mother I’d protect you should anything happen to her.”
“Yes, but. . .”
He raised his hand, cutting off her objection. “To salvage your reputation, I must insist this wedding take place.” He slid a cursory glance over Lord Warrick. “By God, if there was any other way—”
At Uncle Gideon’s words, her smile waned, and her head swam dizzily. Lord Warrick’s face blurred as a short, sharp pain speared her temple. Raising her hand, she rubbed the spot. Oh dear, not another one. For a moment dread gripped her.
No, there was no buzzing or aura. It was only a nasty pang.
“But nothing happened.” Her gaze riveted on Uncle Gideon, she blindly reached over to grope the carved arm of the settee.
“I’m sure Lord Warrick acted in no way inappropriate. He didn’t do anything. He wouldn’t. . .” She dared a sidelong peep at his lordship, quickly averting her eyes at his stony, unsettling stare.
“He’s not the type of gentleman who’d. . .” Her voice trailed off into an embarrassed silence.
Uncle Gideon shook his head. “It matters not. The damage is done.”
Vangie twisted to look fully at the viscount. She knew beyond a doubt what she’d said was absolute truth. “Lord Warrick did not molest me while I was unconscious.”
His eyes warmed the merest bit. “Thank you, for that.”
Ignoring the heat sweeping across her face, she pointed a trembling finger at him while looking at her uncle. “He is as outraged and opposed to this union as I am.”
Lord Warrick was as much a victim as she was. The knowledge brought her no respite.
Sighing, Uncle Gideon pinched the bridge of his nose. “He has agreed. . .”
“Is that what you’re calling it?” interrupted Lord
She licked dry lips before sneaking a peek at Lord Warrick. He remained statue-like, his face devoid of emotion, except for his hostile pewter eyes. “Not much, I fear. I felt unwell, and Lord Warrick assisted me from the ballroom. I fainted, then awoke in the lady’s retiring room.”
Blowing out a lengthy sigh, Uncle Gideon eyed Lord Warrick. “You’re quite sure you won’t have a seat?”
“Quite.”
Crossing the carpet to sit beside Vangie, holding himself stiffly erect, Uncle Gideon cleared his throat.
“Vangie, you and the viscount were discovered in, ah . . . an indiscrete circumstance.” His gaze swept his lordship once more. “Though after questioning him, I am inclined to believe the entire incident was most innocent.”
Lord Warrick raised his chestnut brows. His mouth tilted into a jeering grin. “I’m grateful for your confidence, sir, I’m sure.”
Uncle Gideon ignored him. Vangie could not. Her heart quickened in a peculiar mixture of consternation and relief. Consternation caused by Lord Warrick’s dark temper, and relief that the situation wasn’t dire after all.
“That’s what this is about? My fainting and Lord Warrick helping me?” A heavy yoke lifted from Vangie’s shoulders. “Faith, it’s all a simple misunderstanding, thank goodness.”
Laughter bubbled to the surface again, but she only allowed her lips to tilt upward a smidgeon. It wouldn’t do to skip around the room in celebration, grinning like a jingle-brained ninny. “Certainly, there is no need for matrimony if we,” she met both of their gazes, “agree nothing unseemly occurred.”
“I concur,” said Lord Warrick scowling.
Vangie’s smile broadened. “No indeed. No need at all.”
Her relief was heady, and not even Lord Warrick’s dour expression could wipe the smile from her lips. Gracious, but the man was Friday-faced. She’d nothing but pity for the unfortunate woman who did eventually find herself his viscountess, poor wretch.
“Nonetheless, as deplorable as it is, my dear,” said Uncle Gideon, “I’m afraid several peeresses saw you in a partially unclothed state and are spreading the most contemptible tales.”
He gave her hand a small squeeze. “Vangie, I promised your mother I’d protect you should anything happen to her.”
“Yes, but. . .”
He raised his hand, cutting off her objection. “To salvage your reputation, I must insist this wedding take place.” He slid a cursory glance over Lord Warrick. “By God, if there was any other way—”
At Uncle Gideon’s words, her smile waned, and her head swam dizzily. Lord Warrick’s face blurred as a short, sharp pain speared her temple. Raising her hand, she rubbed the spot. Oh dear, not another one. For a moment dread gripped her.
No, there was no buzzing or aura. It was only a nasty pang.
“But nothing happened.” Her gaze riveted on Uncle Gideon, she blindly reached over to grope the carved arm of the settee.
“I’m sure Lord Warrick acted in no way inappropriate. He didn’t do anything. He wouldn’t. . .” She dared a sidelong peep at his lordship, quickly averting her eyes at his stony, unsettling stare.
“He’s not the type of gentleman who’d. . .” Her voice trailed off into an embarrassed silence.
Uncle Gideon shook his head. “It matters not. The damage is done.”
Vangie twisted to look fully at the viscount. She knew beyond a doubt what she’d said was absolute truth. “Lord Warrick did not molest me while I was unconscious.”
His eyes warmed the merest bit. “Thank you, for that.”
Ignoring the heat sweeping across her face, she pointed a trembling finger at him while looking at her uncle. “He is as outraged and opposed to this union as I am.”
Lord Warrick was as much a victim as she was. The knowledge brought her no respite.
Sighing, Uncle Gideon pinched the bridge of his nose. “He has agreed. . .”
“Is that what you’re calling it?” interrupted Lord
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