Clenching her hands into fists, she stood before the door Morgan had indicated, revising her train of thought. Given the fierce animosity between Roger and his stepbrothers, perhaps his goal hadn’t been to hurt her at all but rather Adrian.
How had everything gone so terribly wrong? Adrian believed she was Roger’s whore. She would never get him to trust her now.
Taking a deep breath, she turned the handle and let herself into the room. She had a brief impression of understated masculine elegance in chocolate brown and cobalt blue before her gaze fell upon Adrian. He stood facing the window, his shoulders rigid with anger. He’d obviously heard her come in, but he didn’t turn around.
“Adrian,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
He whirled to face her, his face a mask of pain and fury. The burn scars stood out lividly against his flushed skin. “Just tell me the truth!” he cried. “Can you just tell me the truth for once?”
“I’ve never lied to you!” she shouted back, stung. “Are you a virgin, Adrian? Did you ever ask me if I was?”
“I should have known,” he snarled bitterly, striding forward and grabbing her by the shoulders. “How many men have you been with, Vanessa? A dozen? A hundred? Too many to count?”
She slapped him and then jerked away, tears streaming down her face. Perhaps she deserved this, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.
The sound of the slap echoed between them, and he lifted a hand to his cheek, though she knew she hadn’t hit him hard enough to hurt.
“Did you try to blackmail him into marrying you, too?”
“I was sixteen years old,” she told him hollowly. “My father had just died, and I was utterly alone in the world. My father’s last mistress introduced me to Roger. I should have seen the arrangement for what it was, known he was paying her a price, but he treated me so gallantly, courted me, as though he actually cared about me...” She trailed off, gathering the courage to continue.
When she remained silent, some of the fury faded from his face. “What did he do to you, Vanessa?”
She swallowed hard, then forced herself to continue. “After a week of dinners and walks by the river, he took me to the house where he kept his mistresses, though of course, I didn’t know that at the time. I was so stupid... so naïve... I thought he loved me.”
“He hurt you,” Adrian said quietly, a statement, not a question. He looked into her eyes and she knew he saw it all. He saw too much. “He raped you, didn’t he, Vanessa?”
She nodded jerkily, blinking back a fresh rush of tears. “I didn’t understand that for a long time. I thought it was my fault for having gone with him. It hurt and I wanted him to stop. But he wouldn’t. He left a guard at the door, and he came back every night for a week, maybe two. Then he threw me out. Told me I was too ugly and old to interest him any more...” Her words ended in a choking sob, and suddenly she found herself in his arms.
“I’ll kill that bastard,” he vowed, his arms tightening around her. “You didn’t deserve that, darling. I’m so sorry he put you through that.”
“He was the only one,” she sobbed, needing him to believe her. “After that, I never let a man close enough to hurt me, not until you...”
He silenced her with a fierce kiss, ending her tearful confession with a flood of passion.
She clung to him, kissing him back until she was dizzy with it, the emotions within her strained past the tipping point. This man made her feel too much. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, and she was very afraid this was his way of saying goodbye. Even if she hadn’t already betrayed him and blackmailed him, what man would want a woman who’d been another man’s whore? Especially his own stepbrother’s?
Gasping, he wrenched away, turning his back on her. Tremors racked his lean body, and she knew this was too much for him, too. She didn’t want to hurt him this way. She’d never wanted that.
“It’s all right,” she told him softly, choking on her tears. “I understand, and I’m so sorry. I never meant to embarrass you this way. You don’t have to do this. No one will think less of you for sending the gold-digging whore packing. I would never tell anyone who you are—”
“There’s a basin of water and a washcloth on the dresser,” he interrupted her, still not turning around. “Clean yourself up, and take some deep breaths. Take as long as you need to compose yourself. We don’t want our wedding guests to know you’ve been crying.”
Then he took a deep breath of his own and left the room, leaving her stunned by the fact that he still meant to marry her.
* * * *
WHEN ADRIAN STEPPEDout into the hall, both of his brothers were grimly waiting for him.
Lucien stepped forward, shaking his head in apology. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how the bastard got in. He knows he’s not welcome here.”
Adrian cleared his throat, still shaken by all that had happened since he arrived. He couldn’t look either of them in the eyes. “It’s all right,” he assured his brother grimly. “I know it wasn’t your fault. It was Mother. He still has her wrapped around his little finger, even after all these years.”
Since the day his father had died, his mother had hated her scarred youngest son. Whenever she was forced to be in the same room with him, she stared at him with a mixture of pity and revulsion. She was ashamed that her perfect family had been touched by tragedy and ugliness, and she blamed Adrian. If his father had not gone back for Adrian, he’d still be alive.
Roger had always known how to capitalize upon that. Adrian wondered if the bastard had told the countess about his previous relationship with Vanessa, if this whole thing had been an attempt on her part to destroy his marriage, but quickly discarded the notion. The last thing she’d want was more scandal.
No, this was Roger’s doing. One way or another, Adrian intended to make his stepbrother pay for what he’d done to Vanessa.
