Vying for the Viscount
Page 19
This must be why men had clubs. Ladies might be able to sit through tense moments such as these, but Hudson was agitated. Lord Gliddon must feel the same way. Hudson had a feeling the man had been reading the same paper throughout all the social visits this morning.
The butler arrived in the doorway. “It has been a quarter hour, my lady.”
It had only been a quarter of an hour? It had felt like at least double that. And what was he supposed to do now? Depart, obviously, but it seemed like there should be some sort of notion whether or not he’d advanced his chances in the past few moments.
Lady Gliddon smiled at Hudson. “Thank you for coming.”
He said his farewells and stood. Two steps from the door, Lady Rebecca stopped him.
“Lord Stildon?”
Hudson turned to look at her. “Yes, my lady?”
“I’ve nothing scheduled Thursday morning. If you wished to go for a walk, that is.”
That was an indicator of success, wasn’t it? “I would be honored to escort you on a walk.”
There was a lightness in his step as he returned to the stable to collect his horse. Hades had been moved to one of the stalls, and Hudson stood to the side while the horse was collected and saddled.
Lord Brimsbane rode up, holding the reins of a riderless cream-colored horse in one hand.
“Lord Stildon.” He dismounted and handed both of the horses over to stable boys. “Did you have a pleasant visit?”
“Quite.” Hudson gestured to the pale horse. “Did you have to chase down a runaway?”
Lord Brimsbane laughed. “Hardly. I took a lady riding this morning. Rebecca graciously offered me the use of Daffodil so I could impress her.”
Some of the happiness he’d been feeling moments earlier curdled and landed heavy in Hudson’s gut. “And was she?”
“I believe so.” Another laugh as the man tugged off his riding gloves. “Of course, Miss Snowley wouldn’t tell me if she was better than the stock at Hawksworth, but she didn’t seem to have any complaints.”
“I see no reason why she should.” Nor was there any reason why he shouldn’t be happy with the news.
Yet, as he rode away, he had to resist the urge to send Hades galloping across the countryside.
BIANCA WAS RATHER NUMB when she returned to the house. She walked inside and paused in the middle of the front hall, mesmerized by the swirling pattern in the floor tile.
What had just happened?
Very well, she knew what had happened, but she didn’t know why, and she didn’t know how she felt about it. Or what she thought about it. Or even if she wanted it.
No, that wasn’t right. She knew she wanted to be courted and get married. She just wasn’t sure she wanted that with Lord Brimsbane.
She’d known him for years, or at least known who he was. It wasn’t as if they’d been childhood friends or anything, but they’d been passing acquaintances.
What had changed to make him now willing to rise at an unheard-of hour in order to catch her at home before she went to Hawksworth for her morning ride?
That made about as much sense as she and her stepmother suddenly becoming—
“Oh good. You’ve returned.”
Bianca looked up from the floor to see her stepmother in the drawing room doorway. “Did you need something?”
Mrs. Snowley gave Bianca a smile that looked more genuine than any she’d ever seen before. “I thought you might want to join me for tea.”
“Tea.”
“Yes.”
Had she woken up in someone else’s life this morning? Bianca gave a longing look to the stairs she should have escaped up immediately, but then moved toward the drawing room. She couldn’t really say no, could she?
Considering the fact that Bianca was willing to actively pursue marriage in order to prevent the older woman from being detrimentally manipulative, she should at least sit down to tea with the woman and try to guess what was on her mind now.
A tea service was already set up in the little seating area in the far corner of the drawing room. It was a more intimate arrangement than the one Mrs. Snowley sat in to receive guests, and the drive, along with the lane beyond, could be seen through the window.
Beside the teapot sat two fine china cups.
Bianca stumbled to a halt. “Where’s Marianne?”
“She’s gone to town with Miss Wainsbright.”
“Oh.” Bianca sat gingerly on the edge of the chair, acutely aware that she was still in her riding habit, which bore the dust of a long ride and carried the aroma of horse and leather. The smell didn’t bother her at all when in a stable or among the animals, but in a drawing room it made her feel at a distinct disadvantage.
Bianca accepted a cup of tea and bit her lip in order to keep from wincing. Mrs. Snowley never fixed Bianca’s tea correctly. While the other woman preferred her tea with only the barest hint of sugar, Bianca liked it quite creamy.
In fact, she preferred it the exact color of the brew in her cup.
She had most definitely awoken in someone else’s life.
After peering about the room to see if someone was lying in wait—to do what she didn’t know, but it did feel as if she were being placed in a position to be caught off guard—she took a hesitant sip of the tea. It could have done with a bit more sweetness, but it was far better than what she normally received from her stepmother.
“I thought we could talk about what you were going to wear to the assembly Saturday.” Mrs. Snowley set her cup down. “There’s still time for us to make alterations or even buy you a new gown.”
Bianca set her own cup down, ready to flee the room at a moment’s need. “I believe the evening dresses I have are sufficient.”
Mrs. Snowley continued as if Bianca hadn’t spoken a word. “We could have Dorothy take in Marianne’s pink dress for you. The one with the embroidered lace. What do you think?”
She’d rather try to dance in her most cumbersome riding habit.
“I’ve the perfect necklace and bracelet set to go with it,” Mrs. Snowley continued. “The center stone is a ruby, but then the gems grow paler as they get farther from the middle.”
Jewels as well? Absolutely not. “I would prefer to wear my own dresses and jewels. There is a reason I chose them, after all.”
“Yes, yes.” Mrs. Snowley waved one hand through the air. “But now you’ve attracted the attention of a future earl. I had no idea you had such potential. We must support it so you can make the most of this opportunity.”
Bianca’s shoulders straightened as she sat a bit taller. “If he’s already seen me in my normal clothes and chosen to come for a visit anyway, I don’t think I need to change my closet.”
“You need to show him how much more you can be to secure him. Surprises keep a man interested.” Mrs. Snowley took a sip of her tea. “Not to mention that everyone else will be wondering how you caught the attention of someone such as him.”
Never, not once in all of Bianca’s life, had she and her stepmother had a conversation like this one. While the words suggested that Mrs. Snowley was trying to be helpful and caring, it didn’t feel like it.
“Why do you care? I thought you wanted me to marry Mr. Mead.”
Another dismissive wave of her hand. Another stalling sip of tea. “That was before.”
Bianca’s gaze narrowed. “Before what?”
“Before I realized you could do better. One can’t begin to fathom why Lord Brimsbane came to call on you. If it had been at any sort of normal time, I would have thought it possible he was trying to see Marianne, but no civilized lady is up and dressed at that hour.”
Bianca’s mouth gaped open a bit, but she didn’t respond. How was someone supposed to answer anyone who made such a statement, much less someone who was supposed to be a sort of parental figure?
“A woman isn’t meant to understand the minds of men, though. They are such illogical creatures. It would make far more sense for him to be enraptured by Marianne,
but since there’s something about you, I’m committed to helping you expand upon it.”
“By changing me,” Bianca said flatly.
“Of course. Everything can be improved upon, don’t you think? I’ve decided Mr. Mead isn’t enough for you. Even if Lord Brimsbane comes to his senses, you’ve proven you can land a much bigger catch than Mr. Mead.”
Mrs. Snowley sighed. “It will sadden your father, of course, but don’t worry about that. I’ll brave it in order to see you set up. We’ll have to see to it quickly, of course, since Marianne is sure to marry this Season and we wouldn’t want you to appear less desirable. I can make it happen, though. You’ve nothing to worry about.”
Oh no, Bianca had everything to worry about. Mrs. Snowley wasn’t doing this out of the kindness of her heart or some sudden arising of maternal instinct.
It was far too late for the other woman to be a mother to Bianca, and certainly not if she simply wanted to turn Bianca into the spitting image of Marianne. If this was what passed as affection and attention from Mrs. Snowley, it was potentially worse than being pushed aside.
“I believe”—Bianca rubbed her hands along her skirt and stood—“that I’ll go get cleaned up.”
While she was at it, she would contemplate her own plan for securing Lord Brimsbane. Preferably one that didn’t leave her feeling like she’d sold her soul.
Twenty-Two
The next morning Bianca had no trouble getting out the door early. She wanted to avoid her stepmother, her father, Marianne, everyone. If she could have gotten dressed without Dorothy’s assistance, she would have avoided her too.
She’d gotten little sleep, spending most of the quiet hours staring at the ceiling before falling into a fitful bout of slumber, then waking to stare at the ceiling once more.
Not a single conclusion had come her way.
One thing she did know was that she couldn’t go back to the way it had been, even if that became a viable option. She understood now, as she hadn’t then, that she’d been living a lonely existence. When she’d craved company before, she’d simply gone out. Everyone she encountered seemed happy enough to see her, and that had appeased her.
The arrival of Lord Stildon had thrown everything off course, and now she was too aware of what she lacked to return to idyllic naïveté.
Unfortunately, she also didn’t know how to move forward. The only people she wanted to seek out were at Hawksworth. Lord Stildon, Aaron, the grooms. Spending time with them didn’t move her toward her ultimate goal. If anything, it made finding a solution more difficult because it made the awkwardness of other interactions starkly obvious.
Would she be happier if she had no easy friendships, nothing to compare her other interactions to?
It was enough to make a girl feel very, very isolated. Even in church on Sunday, instead of feeling cozy and secure, the walls of her family’s box pew had seemed like divisions between her and everyone else.
Even God.
Why would He allow her to get to a place where her only actual friends were a handful of grooms and a cantankerous stable manager? Oh, and an ignorant but confident viscount who made her notice everything she was missing but had no interest in filling those gaps himself?
Ah, but she needed a ride. A good, long ride with just her and a horse.
The answers that had eluded her all night would come on the back of the horse.
They had to.
Because if not, she didn’t know what she would do. Continuing on in this disconcerted state of mind wasn’t an option.
Apparently, she wasn’t the only one with such a plan this morning.
Hades was tied to a post outside the stable as she approached, Lord Stildon standing at his side, ready to mount.
The horse greeted Bianca with a neigh and a slight bounce of his dark head, and then Lord Stildon turned, looking like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.
Bianca sighed. “Good morning.”
“You needed to think too?”
“Yes. I can return home, though. Ride one of my father’s horses.” It was what she should have done to begin with. Even though the old carriage horses wouldn’t bring the same pleasure, she would have been assured a private ride.
And she wouldn’t have been faced with a reminder of what she couldn’t have.
“There’s no need.” He gestured to the open door of the stable. “I’ve plenty of horses and can only ride one at a time.”
He paused and looked down at his hands, taking a few moments to straighten gloves that already looked perfectly positioned. “Would you like to mount up with me or take a groom?”
Just moments ago she’d been hoping to avoid him, but somehow the fact that he offered just such a scenario gave her a peace about riding with him.
It would seem men were not the only illogical creatures.
“Why don’t we go for a walk first?”
It was difficult to say who was more surprised by her statement, but once it was out, Bianca liked the idea immensely. Perhaps it wasn’t the right time to outrun her thoughts. It wasn’t as if pondering her problems on her own had kept her from thinking about him. Maybe thinking about them in his presence would present a solution.
And maybe she was a glutton for punishment.
“A walk first sounds lovely.”
They strolled along the drive, even though her hem was already soaked through with morning dew from crossing the fields. Golds and yellows streaked the ground as the sun finished its climb above the horizon.
“What are you needing to contemplate?” Bianca asked. She rather thought he’d had everything planned out. What was he reconsidering? The spark of hope that surged through her was almost enough to make her turn around and run home.
“I visited Lady Rebecca yesterday.”
“Oh?” The spark fizzled and crashed low in her gut.
“It didn’t go as I had hoped it would.”
“Oh?” Once more the flame sputtered to life.
“I was given permission to take her on a walk Thursday, so I suppose it wasn’t a complete lack of success, but it was all so very strange.”
“Oh.” Doused. Again. Apparently Lady Rebecca was indeed everything Lord Stildon wanted in a wife, and meeting her hadn’t made him rethink his plans. It would also seem that Lady Rebecca—or Lord and Lady Gliddon—saw something promising in him.
“Are all courtships like this? Is there something else I should be doing?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know. I’ve never been courted.”
“You danced with Lord Rigsby,” he said. “And went riding with Lord Brimsbane.”
“How did you know about that?” Bianca turned her head sharply to study his face.
He gave a shrug. “I was leaving the stable as Brimsbane returned. He told me he’d been riding with you.”
And the news had meant nothing at all to Lord Stildon. If she needed any more proof that he wasn’t suffering from the same overwhelming attraction she was—and really, any sane person would have had more than enough—there it was.
“Did you enjoy your ride?”
“Yes.” Bianca looked down at her toes, watching the boots appear and disappear as she walked. “He brought me a fine horse.”
She pushed a smile onto her face and looked up at him. She’d still committed to being his friend, and given her recent realization of how few of those she had, she couldn’t afford to lose even an unconventional one.
“What makes you think it was strange?” she asked. “Perhaps that’s simply the way courtships are done in England, Lord Stildon.”
He chuckled. “If we’re going to continue to have discussions such as this, I do believe a less formal address would be appropriate.” He took her elbow and guided them into a slow arc so that they were strolling back in the direction of the stable. “Perhaps meeting you and Aaron before anyone else ruined me. I don’t really find the discussions of clouds interesting when I know conversations can be so much more.”
How convenient an excuse that was for her to continue torturing herself.
Mentally accepting it, though, didn’t mean she was ready to utter the man’s name. “I think clouds can still be interesting.” She pointed into the sky. “That one rather looks like a horse.”
He laughed and came to a stop as he tilted his head up. “So it does.” He pointed to another cloud farther to the right. “I believe that one is a teacup.”
They pointed out clouds and shapes for several minutes until their interpretations became rather ridiculous. When she declared a long, thin wisp of a cloud looked like a riding crop, he declared they should return to the stable and go on their ride.
He offered her his arm and she took it without thought, then immediately wished she hadn’t. Especially when he said, “Would it be presumptuous for me to ask permission to use your given name? Only in private, of course. Miss Snowley feels so . . . formal. Of course, you may use Hudson.”
That seemed like a very bad idea. The granting of that leniency would make her an utter fool. “You may call me Bianca.”
She must have enjoyed her sleepless night more than she realized.
“Bianca.” He gave her a warm smile. “I like it.”
The sound of her given name in his voice rolled through her ears, down her arms, raising the hairs as it went until it settled into a low thrum at the point where her arm connected with his.
“Bianca,” he mused again, and she couldn’t decide if he should stop saying her name or continue saying it over and over. “You still haven’t told me what you think I should do.”
He didn’t want her to answer that question. Not really. At least, not truthfully. It would rob them both of this strange camaraderie.
She took a deep breath. Perhaps, if she treaded lightly into dangerous territory, he would join her there. “I think that going after what you truly want with honesty might be simpler than all this planning.”