The Viscount's Promise: Regency Romance (Weddings and Scandals)

by Joyce Alec

  Henry made an impatient noise in the back of his throat, but Julianna remained unmoved.

  “Can you not just do as I ask?” Henry exclaimed, his face suddenly turning quite red. “I do have my own responsibilities and such, as you might be aware.”

  “No, I am not aware,” Julianna replied coolly. “The last I heard, you were to ensure that you met my sponsor and Lord Sharpe. You were to ensure that I was being well taken care of, for obviously, Hollard knows full well that you could not be trusted to accompany me around London yourself!” She did not regret the sharpness of her tone, even though she saw Henry’s eyes flash. “When it comes to it, Henry, it is quite apparent that both Francis and Hollard knew you well enough to put others in place to ensure I was not left entirely alone this Season.”

  Her brother’s eyes flared. “What do you mean—Francis?”

  She lifted one shoulder, her stomach tightening just a little. “I mean that Francis asked Lord Sharpe to step into the role that you ought to be taking, Henry,” she said plainly, wondering if some harsh truths would allow Henry to see just how difficult he was being. “You speak of responsibilities and duties and the like, but I can see none.”

  Henry’s eyes glared at her. “You have very little idea about what you speak, sister dear,” he replied cruelly, his overly caring tone biting at her harshly. “You think that your future is all that matters—when I have my own future to consider.”

  Julianna rose to her feet, a ball of anger settling in her chest. “In case you are unaware of societal dictates, Henry, may I remind you that a gentleman may marry whenever he wishes, regardless of his age, whereas young ladies are considered spinsters by the time they are four and twenty.” She narrowed her eyes at him, refusing to let his harsh and angry words work their way into her heart. Henry had become a good deal more self-centered and arrogant these last few months, and she was beginning to become rather weary of it. To have him speak to her so cruelly and without justification rankled her. “If you do not wish me to become a permanent burden upon your life, Henry, then I would suggest that you do all you can to ensure I find a suitable husband this Season. Else I may have to fall upon your mercies in the years to come.”

  “And you will get nothing from me,” Henry hissed, stepping closer to her. “I do not care for you, as I do not care for our brother nor did I care for Francis.”

  Julianna fell back as though he had slapped her, hard.

  “I am the last of the three sons,” Henry continued, his face contorted with anger. “I have the smallest fortune; I have no house to call my own; and, until Francis’s foolish demise, no hope of the title falling to me.” A small, dark smile crossed his features but was gone before Julianna could even really see it. “I will live my life as I please, in my own way and with my own choice of responsibilities. And know this, Julianna, I would rather see you in the poorhouse than offer you any sort of consideration.”

  A flood of hot, angry tears burned in Julianna’s eyes, her breath ripped from her body at the horror of what her brother had said. She did not know what to think nor what to say, staring at him as though she were seeing him for the very first time. This could not be Henry, could it? Henry, who had grown up with her, who had been given as much as their father could allow? Julianna knew that her father, God rest him, had been a shrewd and careful man, making sure to grow his fortune as best he could and to make his lands as profitable as they could be, all so that he could leave a decent inheritance to his sons. Julianna, of course, had a dowry but no particular fortune, but she had always been more than grateful for her father’s shrewd manner and his generosity in what he had left her. She had always believed that her brothers felt much the same way, for not one of them had ever complained. Even Henry, with his sullen mood and dark expression, had more than enough to live on for the rest of his life if he was careful, she was quite sure. What more could he want?

  “I do not understand you, Henry,” she said. “You had a father who gave all he could to ensure we were well provided for. You have a kind brother, who has taken on the title. Should not our family be binding itself together to ensure that we share our wounds and our griefs with one another?” She took a step forward, but Henry did not move, his expression never changing. “You have never told a soul about your pain over Francis’s death,” she continued, trying to reach her brother through sympathy and compassion instead of giving in to the anger and distress that was circling all around her. “It is as though it has not affected you, other than to make you even more inward-looking than before.” A small, sad smile touched her lips, but Henry merely lowered his gaze to the floor, his jaw set. “Do you not think that if you shared your pain over what occurred and over what we have been left behind to deal with, that it might aid your own suffering?”

  “I do not care about Francis’s death!” Henry shouted, his anger spreading to every single corner of the room so that Julianna could not escape it. “All this foolishness about having to be sorrowful, about having to take a year to mourn the brother I did not so much as care for – it is utterly ridiculous!” He pointed one long finger in Julianna’s direction. “And you would do well to remember that just as I did not care for Francis, I do not care for you either. The only reason I obeyed my elder brother and came to London with you was simply that it fulfilled my own ends. Do you understand me, Julianna? You shall have nothing from me, not even the smallest kindness. I care nothing for you; I care nothing for Hollard nor for this supposed sharing of our griefs.” He sneered at her, making Julianna’s heart break completely. “Remove yourself from my house! I do not want to see you for the rest of the day – if not the rest of the week.”

  Julianna could not breathe, her lungs desperate for air but her body refusing to work as it ought. She could not quite take in all that her brother had said, seeing such darkness and vehemence on his face that it was as though he were nothing more than a stranger to her.

  “Go!” he roared, pointing towards the door, and Julianna was thrown from her frozen horror in a moment. Starting violently, she stumbled towards the door, tears beginning to stream down her face as the agony in her heart grew too painful to bear. Throwing the door open, she made to run out, only to collapse directly into Lord Sharpe’s arms.

  “What is the meaning of this?”

  Lord Sharpe’s voice was harsh, his tone cold as he wrapped one arm about Julianna to steady her.

  “This is none of your concern, Lord Sharpe,” Henry retorted snidely. “You are not welcome here. Remove yourself from my house.”

  Julianna closed her eyes, aware that her tears were flowing steadily. “Henry,” she whispered. “Please, do not…”

  Lord Sharpe had gone very still, his body tense. “Please, do not distress yourself further, Miss Newton.” Turning his gaze back towards Henry, Lord Sharpe addressed him in a cold, hard voice.

  “I ought to call you out for whatever it is you have done to distress your sister so,” he said, his voice filling the room. “You are an utter disgrace, Mr. Newton.”

  Henry snarled at him, making Julianna jerk away, but Lord Sharpe remained exactly where he was, seemingly unafraid.

  “You are rotten to the core,” he said loudly, refusing to be intimidated by Henry’s fury. “I knew it then, and I know it now. I will be removing your sister from this house this very day. I cannot allow her to remain here when there is such evident cruelty being directed towards her.”

  Henry grinned horribly, his eyes seeming to gleam with a dark intent. “Nothing could make me happier,” he said with a hard laugh. “The sooner she is wed, then—”

  “She will reside with the Marquess of Thurston,” Lord Sharpe interrupted. “And I would be very careful as to what you say from this moment onwards, Mr. Newton, for I have no qualms in passing on such things to your sister’s sponsor.”

  Julianna wiped at her eyes, as she saw the smile fade from Henry’s expression. He knew as well as she did that a man with such a title and such a bearing on society could
make things more than difficult for Henry’s presence here in London.

  “Come, Miss Newton.”

  Julianna felt Lord Sharpe’s hand fall from her shoulder as he turned to offer her his arm. She did not so much as glance at Henry but took Lord Sharpe’s arm at once, feeling the need to steady herself as they walked from the room. Her breathing was still ragged, and she was struggling to maintain her composure as the door closed behind them, leaving Henry within, just as he had wished to be.

  “I am truly sorry for what you have witnessed,” she whispered, not able to even look up at Lord Sharpe. “You must think my family to be truly terrible.”

  “Not in the least,” Lord Sharpe replied, although his voice was still angry. “I will do as I have said and make arrangements for you to reside with Lady Thurston for the remainder of the Season.”

  Julianna’s stomach churned. “It would be most improper to simply land on their doorstep with such a request,” she said quietly, already feeling more than embarrassed.

  “Not at all,” Lord Sharpe reassured her, sounding all the more confident. “Is there much you require at this very moment? I think a walk in the fresh air should do you a world of good whilst your maid packs your things. I will need to call upon Lady Thurston before we walk, but it should not take too long.”

  Julianna shook her head, not at all comfortable with the idea of simply becoming a guest of her sponsor without Lady Thurston even offering such an invitation. “You are very good, but I do not think I shall move from this house, even if that is what my brother wishes. My eldest brother, Baron Hollard, has made it quite clear that I am to reside here with Henry.”

  Lord Sharpe made a small, frustrated noise.

  “I will simply remain out of Henry’s way,” Julianna replied, feeling a little better as they made their way towards the front door. “And I shall ensure I am engaged in the afternoons and evenings as best I can. Will that satisfy you, Lord Sharpe?”

  He stopped suddenly, dropped his arm, and turned to face her. There was deep concern in his eyes, an expression of gentle tenderness that quite stole her breath. She could not look away, not even if she wished to. It had been a long time since anyone had shown her such a concern, and she was grateful for it.

  “I shall make certain that you have something to occupy you whenever you have need of my company,” he said firmly. “I know that Lord Borden wishes to call upon you, but should you find yourself without engagement, then all you need do is write a short note and I shall be with you forthwith.”

  “You are very kind, Lord Sharpe,” she replied softly, aware that he had gently taken her hand in his. “I cannot thank you enough.”

  He smiled at her then, the last traces of anger fading from his expression. “You do not deserve any of what you have been left to endure alone, Miss Newton,” he said softly. “I am truly glad I am able to be of assistance to you.”

  Julianna felt herself blush furiously, the pain of what her brother had thrown at her beginning to lose some of its sharpness.

  “Lord Borden is a decent fellow, and I am quite sure that he will make the best of husbands if he were to pursue you,” Lord Sharpe continued, his words sending a wave of disappointment all through Julianna. “When is it that he is to call upon you?”

  “Tomorrow,” Julianna replied, pulling her hand from Lord Sharpe’s and giving herself a silent warning that she ought not to lose her heart to Lord Sharpe. He was evidently quite determined that she ought to be pursuing other gentleman, rather than hoping he would be the one to secure her attentions. “For tea, of course.”

  “And I shall call thereafter, to ensure you are not alone in the house,” Lord Sharpe said firmly. “Perhaps then we might discuss the note that was in my pocket? I presume you still have it?”

  In all the furor, she had almost forgotten it. “Yes, indeed,” she replied hastily, finding it in her pocket and pulling it out to hand to him. “As you see, it is still here.” She let her gaze settle on him, seeing the flicker of unease in his expression. They were slowly growing closer, even though their acquaintance was of short duration, and to know that he believed that Francis was not the murderer that everyone believed him to have been was more than a relief. She did not think she could have discussed Francis and what had occurred if Lord Sharpe believed him to be deserving of death.

  “Then I think,” Lord Sharpe said, his hand closing around her hand that held the note, “that we will discuss it tomorrow. You have endured a good deal already this afternoon, and I should not like to add any further weight to your mind.”

  She managed a quick smile, aware that whilst she wanted to do nothing more than talk about what she thought the note might mean, Lord Sharpe was probably correct in his estimation. The shock of what Henry had said, of what he had done, would still take time to sink in. Her heart ached with a sudden, sharp pain, but she pushed it aside, looking up into Lord Sharpe’s face and realizing that, in his own way, he had become very dear to her even in only a few short days.

  “You are most considerate, Lord Sharpe,” she replied softly, aware that her heart was reacting to the gentle way he held her hand. “Tomorrow would suit me well enough.”

  “I look forward to our meeting,” he replied, letting go of her hand and offering her his arm. “To the park then? It is a beautiful day, and I am sure the beautiful flowers there will lift your spirits.”

  She tugged on her bonnet and tied the strings, accepting the help of the ever-ready maid, who had the rest of her outdoor things ready for her. Once prepared, she took Lord Sharpe’s arm and walked out of the house, her heart and mind settled with the knowledge that he was the one man she could depend on.

  4

  Thomas was greeted by the butler, who quickly informed him that Mr. Newton had gone from the house earlier that afternoon, but that Miss Newton was in the drawing room.

  By the look on the butler’s face, the man was well aware of what had occurred yesterday afternoon between Mr. Henry Newton and his sister, for he did not tell Thomas that he was not welcome in this house, nor did he suggest that the master would be displeased with his presence here. Instead, he appeared quite glad that Miss Newton was to have some more company, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth on what was an otherwise stoic face.

  “Does she have company at this present moment?” Thomas asked, a little confused as to why he was feeling a little excited at the prospect of seeing Miss Newton again. “I know Lord Borden was meant to be calling this afternoon.”

  “And so he has,” the butler replied, with a small inclination of his head. “Although his visit is due to come to an end within a few minutes. Shall I introduce you?”

  Thomas shook his head, throwing aside all propriety. “I shall make my own way, I thank you.” He had been in this house often enough to know precisely where the drawing room was and had no particular need to be shown in by the butler. Besides which, if Miss Newton was still engaging Lord Borden in conversation, then Thomas decided that he would simply wait until the gentleman had finished his visit before entering the room. There was a small parlor to the left of the drawing room, if he recalled correctly, where he might sit.

  The drawing room door was ajar, allowing Thomas to hear Miss Newton’s quiet voice murmuring something to Lord Borden, which was then followed by Lord Borden’s laughter. Instead of feeling pleased that Miss Newton was doing wonderfully well in her conversation with Lord Borden, Thomas found himself growing almost displeased at such a thing. Lord Borden’s laughter irritated him, grinding against him until he felt as though he could take no more. With an effort, he steeled himself against striding into the room to interrupt their conversation, reminding himself that this was precisely what he wanted. Once Miss Newton found herself a suitor, his responsibility would be over. His promise to Francis would be fulfilled. He would have nothing more to contend with, for she would be gone from his life, and he could continue on without her presence.

  His heart dropped to his toes, surprising him
all the more. Why did such an idea bring him such a sense of disappointment instead of the sheer delight he had thought he would feel?

  “I should take my leave.”

  Thomas jumped, hurrying away from the door just as Lord Borden pushed it open. The man looked surprised to see Thomas standing there, only to smile and incline his head.

  “You are to call upon Miss Newton,” Lord Borden said, with a knowing smile. “You need not fear, Lord Sharpe, I shall not tread where I am not welcome.”

  Thomas began to bluster, his mind struggling to find a comprehensible explanation. “No indeed, Lord Borden, you need not worry about such a thing, I am quite sure.”

  Lord Borden frowned. “You are not pursuing a courtship with Miss Newton then?”

  “I—” Thomas came to a dead stop, wanting to state that, no, he was not pursuing Miss Newton in such a way but finding that he could not bring himself to say it.

  “I see,” Lord Borden murmured with a gleam in his eye. “You wish for the lady herself to make her choice.” He shrugged, grinning at Thomas. “I do not think you will have many others to contend with, however. After all, Miss Newton is not particularly welcome in society, although her sponsor being Lady Thurston had almost made it a requirement that she is as welcome as any other.”

  Thomas frowned, feeling a sudden surge of protectiveness towards Miss Newton. “I do not think it is quite fair for society to reject Miss Newton simply because of her brother’s actions, Lord Borden.”