fists. “You never once put the needs of a small boy ahead of your greed.”
Clearly startled by his vehemence, his aunt took a step back. “I’m only saying—”
“I suggest you stop talking, Mama,” Vanessa said. “Before Grey forgets that we’re his relations.”
Vanessa’s low voice reached him in the midst of his fury, drawing him back to the present. Grey struggled to breathe, to calm himself . . . to keep from throttling the woman who’d done nothing—nothing—to protect the ten-year-old him from his uncle.
“Mama, go upstairs,” Vanessa ordered as she watched him fight to contain his temper. “I will finish this . . . negotiation.”
When her mother hesitated, Grey choked out, “Best to listen to your daughter, Aunt Cora.”
Alarm creasing her aging face, she whirled to hurry up the stairs. But she paused halfway up to look down at him. “You said double her dowry! Don’t forget!”
She hurried the rest of the way up the stairs and disappeared from view.
Vanessa laid a hand on his arm. “I’m aware Mama and Papa were always pretty . . . dreadful to you. Still, perhaps it’s time you put the past behind you.”
“Perhaps,” he said noncommittally. How was he to put behind him a youth full of mistreatment and heartbreak? Even now he could barely think of it without rage boiling up within him, a feeling exacerbated by being back in this damned house again.
“Surely your new wife will help with that.” Vanessa searched his face. “You were telling Mama the truth, weren’t you? That you’re marrying Miss Wolfe?”
An image of Beatrice rose in his mind to calm his temper further, and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread over his face. “Yes. As soon as it can be arranged.”
“You look as if you’re terribly in love with her.”
“Terribly,” he lied, not wanting the inquisition that would follow if he said otherwise. Or was it a lie? He wasn’t as sure anymore. “She’s different from any woman I’ve ever met. She has a mind of her own, and she’s not afraid to speak it.”
“Even with you?”
“Especially with me,” he said dryly. “She’s rather like you in that respect.”
“Oh, dear. Then I wish her all the luck in the world. She’ll need it.” When he frowned at her, she laughed and said, “Seriously, though, will I like her?”
He raised one eyebrow. “I’m fairly certain you two will become as thick as thieves. I shudder to think what trouble you’ll get into together.”
Beaming at him, she relaxed. “Oh, wonderful! I could use another bosom friend.” She leaned close to whisper confidentially, “Especially with Mother in the temper she’ll be in over my having lost you.”
“Remind her you never had me, and you’ll be fine.”
Vanessa tipped up her chin. “I’ll remind her of that doubled dowry, and then she’ll be fine.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Now don’t go spending that dowry too quickly. And don’t give it to some damned poet.”
“Is that a condition of your doubling it?” she asked with narrowed eyes.
He sighed. “Would it make a difference if I said it was?”
“No.”
“That’s what I thought.” He glanced up the stairs. “Do you think your mother has personally told anyone in society of our supposed engagement? Because if she has, my plan won’t work. So I need to know who else’s silence I must buy while in town.”
“I don’t believe she has told a soul. I refused to go anywhere with her until you arrived to salvage things. And since you were fairly quick—”
“It’s not as if she gave me a choice. You can only imagine how my prospective wife regarded the news that I was engaged to another.”
“Oh no! Poor Miss Wolfe.” She winked at him. “But I’m sure a dissolute fellow like you will know how to turn her up sweet.”
He bloody well hoped so. “Speaking of that, I must return to Sanforth at once to soothe her fears.” And get this whole matter of who’d killed whom—if anyone even had killed anyone—wrapped up once and for all, so he could start his marriage to Beatrice with a clean slate for them both.
“Of course!” She hugged him. “And thank you. I can never repay you for not . . . well . . .”
“Letting you be forced into marrying me?” When she winced, he chuckled. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted. But if you ever need me again, try something less dramatic than a betrothal announcement in the papers.”
“I will.” She flashed him a minxish