Vying for the Viscount

by Kristi Ann Hunter

  He pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully. “I agree.”

  Perhaps she’d treaded a little too lightly. “I think . . .” She drew out the word to buy herself and her gathering courage more time. “Such honesty requires boldness. You have to look at what you really want and articulate it.” Another deep breath, and she plunged on before she could stop herself. “Sometimes in doing that we learn what we actually want isn’t what we initially thought.”

  “I think I know what you’re saying.” The look he gave her was soft and thoughtful.

  Bianca’s heart pounded so hard she could feel the vibration of her chest. “You do?”

  He nodded. “I should be honest with Lady Rebecca. I should tell her that though my initial interest was inspired by something else, there are many traits about her that I admire and I am fully committed to getting to know her better.”

  He was choosing another woman.

  And she couldn’t even be mad about that, because it was the woman he’d chosen from the very beginning.

  He escorted her back to the stable. “Shall we go for that ride now?”

  Odysseus had been saddled while they were walking, and Bianca all but flew to the horse’s side. Now she definitely needed the mind-clearing wind of a good, long ride.

  Unfortunately, all she felt as the morning breeze bit through her jacket was cold.

  HUDSON SPENT THE rest of that day and the next in and around town. He needed to know people, to know the area, to see and to be seen before he took Lady Rebecca for a walk.

  It was also time to really take control of his horses. The lands had already been planted for the year, and there wasn’t much he could do to manage this year’s harvest.

  Races, however, were just around the corner. Aaron had already lined up the entries for the October meeting, and Hudson was interested in seeing some of the different training regimens the stable manager had instituted.

  Aaron had ordered the trainer not to sweat the horses, so they did their morning gallops without heavy blankets wrapped about their bodies. Combined with the abundance of box stalls he had created, the man was a visionary. Everything he had done so far seemed to result in high-quality horses, so Hudson decided to reserve judgment until he saw the effects.

  While hanging about the training gallops, he’d encountered Brimsbane multiple times. After several conversations, Hudson came to a simple conclusion.

  His potential future brother-in-law was as dull as a horseshoe.

  He was loyal, noble, and honorable—everything Hudson had been told a lord should be, and perhaps that was the problem. His travel had been decent, his school exemplary, his childhood antics nonexistent or easily pushed away from memory. Even his preference of horse and clothing was predictable.

  He was a textbook gentlemanly aristocrat.

  Which meant he was exactly what Bianca was looking for. After all, Lady Rebecca was a portrait of ladylike sensibilities, which made her ideal for Hudson. Why should her brother be any different?

  Hudson adjusted his coat and wiggled his toes in his new boots as he walked down the street. He’d taken to having at least one meal in town most days, though whether it was to be in the midst of a crowd like he’d had in India, to see more of the town, or simply to eat something other than his cook’s fare, he didn’t know.

  What he did know was that he was tired of eating alone. Everywhere he went he either sat by himself in silence, endured numerous introductions, or received endless speculation on whether or not Hawksworth could survive with Hudson at the reins.

  Those last conversations made Hudson want to punch something, preferably the one speaking, but he also understood. He had to prove himself to these people, and he would. As soon as possible.

  Still, he’d like to eat a meal without having to defend himself.

  Lord Rigsby was exiting the Jockey Club as Hudson walked by.

  “Lord Rigsby.” Hudson nodded at the building behind the man. “Are you a member?”

  “No, but I’d like to be. I was delivering a message for my father.” The man shrugged. “It could have easily been sent by messenger or even the post, but delivering it myself gave me an excuse to talk with the members.”

  It sounded as if Lord Rigsby had something to prove as well. “I was heading to eat. Would you care to join me?”

  “I’ve heard the food at Rutland’s is commendable.”

  Hudson looked around the immediate area. “Do you know where that is?”

  Lord Rigsby looked around. “There aren’t that many roads in Newmarket. We should be able to find it.”

  It took them two wrong turns and one case of retracing their steps, but they located the restaurant.

  The food was almost as bland as what Hudson got at home, but the company was the most interesting he’d had outside his own stable.

  If only the man hadn’t asked so many questions about Bianca.

  Twenty-Three

  On Wednesday night, Hudson attended a musicale at an estate north of town. The room felt nearly as crowded as the public assemblies, and the conversation was equally as inane, though here it seemed more peppered with empty flatteries.

  They should simply parade everyone around in a circle like a horse auction. It would be more honest.

  Lady Rebecca stood next to her brother near the center of the room, a cluster of people around her, both men and women. Other groupings of people radiated out like flower petals.

  Hudson was pleased to realize that he recognized many of the people in the room, even if he didn’t feel particularly inclined to talk to them. That, at least, was a familiar feeling. In India, he lived near Fort St. George and frequently found himself in a room with the officers stationed there.

  Perhaps his discomfort with those men who were born in England and saw India as a land to be conquered instead of embraced should have told him that he wouldn’t be quite normal when he transplanted himself.

  None of that mattered now. Hudson knew what he could do with his horses, was confident he knew enough to manage the rest of the estate, though the manager his grandfather had put in place seemed more than competent, and thought that a fresh look on the world might be just what the peerage of this country needed.

  All he had to do now was convince everyone else.

  He rolled his shoulders to adjust the fit of his jacket collar and started working his way across the room to Lady Rebecca’s large circle.

  It had been a while since he’d ridden in a proper race, since he’d outgrown the size for a jockey, but he still knew how to take advantage of small gaps when people shifted, and he soon found himself in the center of the group.

  “We meet again, Lord Stildon.” Lady Rebecca smiled at him.

  It was the same smile she gave everyone, the same one that seemed a permanent fixture on her face. How was he to know if she was happy to see him or not?

  “Yes, we do,” he replied. “Have you heard tonight’s singer before?”

  She nodded. “In London. She’s very good. She’s Mrs. Englebert’s cousin.”

  The way she said the sentence seemed like it was supposed to have some sort of significance to him, but he hadn’t a clue why it should matter. Still, he nodded and gave a murmur of understanding because he didn’t see how what he was missing could matter overmuch.

  They discussed all the normal subjects, including many of the other nearby people in their conversation. Hudson knew some of the names that were mentioned in the gossip portion of the conversation, which came after the weather and comments on the number of people in attendance, but he didn’t know why anyone cared about these details of their lives.

  Very well, he could see why someone might be interested in knowing that Mr. Mead’s horse had thrown him into a bush this morning. The man had probably deserved it, though the horse was likely to pay the penalty.

  Finally, it was time to sit for the musicale, but Hudson hadn’t positioned himself in such a way as to be able to claim a seat beside Lady Rebecca or even
one in the area immediately in front of or behind her. He glanced around and noticed Bianca and Lord Rigsby sitting three rows back.

  Bianca might not appreciate Hudson interrupting her conversation, but she would understand his desire to sit beside someone he knew for the next hour, so he moved to join her.

  “Good evening,” he said as he sat on her other side.

  Lord Rigsby arched an eyebrow, reminding Hudson of the way Aaron looked just before he told Hudson he was wrong about something. All the man said, though, was “Good evening.”

  Bianca nodded at him, her smile wide and welcoming. “Are you anxious to have a taste of English music?”

  Hudson glanced down at the card he’d been handed with the evening’s list of songs on it. “It appears to be rather French in nature.”

  Lord Rigsby chuckled. “Don’t let anyone else hear you say that. Just because the words are in French, it doesn’t mean the performance is French. It means it’s fancy.”

  A suppressed laugh escaped Bianca for a moment. “And expensive.”

  “That too,” Lord Rigsby said with a nod.

  For the first time, Hudson felt like he was intruding when in Bianca’s company.

  He didn’t care for the feeling.

  “YOU NEED A NEW BALL GOWN.”

  Bianca looked up from the book she was reading in the upstairs parlor. It was in an area of the house that was only used by guests, so her stepmother never ventured up here, yet there she stood in the doorway, Marianne trailing behind her, looking around as if she hadn’t lived in this house all her life.

  After sticking a finger in her book to hold her place, Bianca gave Mrs. Snowley her attention. “Why do I need a new ball gown? I’ve only worn the one I ordered in the spring twice, and Dorothy changed the trim on last year’s so that it practically looks like a new dress.”

  Bianca’s evening dress collection was quite extensive and replenished regularly, but ball gowns? There weren’t that many events that called for them, since the aristocracy came to Newmarket for races and more casual interactions before or after the extravagance of their London springs.

  Mrs. Snowley pressed her lips together in the disappointed expression Bianca was accustomed to. At least that false attempt at strangling motherly guidance wasn’t making a reappearance.

  “You cannot wear a dress you’ve worn before to the Gliddon ball,” she gritted out. “This is going to be the event of the year, I’m absolutely certain. Any number of matches will be decided that night.”

  “As I’m fairly certain Lord Gliddon hopes to announce Lady Rebecca’s choice there, I do hope no one intends to claim the gathering for their own.”

  “Of course not,” Mrs. Snowley said, an unspoken derogatory name dripping from the end of her sentence. “Pairings will be decided there, though, I’m certain of it.”

  “Miss Wainbright intends to see if Lord Davers can be lured out into the garden,” Marianne said idly, as if she hadn’t announced that her dearest friend was plotting to trap one of the town’s confirmed bachelors into marriage. “She said the Gliddons’ garden is perfect for getting caught in.”

  Instead of looking appalled, Mrs. Snowley’s face grew thoughtful as she turned toward her daughter. “Did she say how she intends to do this?”

  “By risking her reputation, obviously,” Bianca murmured.

  Mrs. Snowley jerked her head to face forward. “Yes. Well. You still need a new dress. I’m taking you to the modiste this morning.”

  If Mrs. Snowley took Bianca to the modiste, she’d end up with a dress of flounces and ribbon, with uncomfortable embroidery irritating her skin all evening.

  “I will agree to a new dress,” Bianca said slowly, “but I’m going to the shop on my own.” She resisted the urge to add that she’d been doing so for the past six years. “I’ll take Dorothy.”

  “Dorothy is mending Marianne’s dress for this evening. You can take Helen.”

  Mrs. Snowley’s lady’s maid would report back to her mistress everything Bianca chose, right down to the thread color, but it was a sort of compromise, so Bianca agreed. Besides, she was more interested in knowing where Marianne was headed this evening.

  “I thought there was nothing on tonight’s calendar. Where is Marianne going?”

  “Dinner at Lady Kelbrooke’s.” She waved a hand through the air. “I didn’t think you would be interested, so I declined on your behalf. It’ll leave you plenty of time to finish your book.”

  How many other invitations had been turned down on Bianca’s behalf before? She would love to attend dinner at Lady Kelbrooke’s. It was said they had some of the finest horse-related art in the world hanging in their house. They even owned a Gainsborough painting.

  Lord and Lady Kelbrooke also had an unmarried son who didn’t tend to socialize much. A dinner party at their house would definitely attract the attention of any marriage-minded girl and her mother. And, apparently, inspire that marriage-minded mother to leave her stepdaughter out of the running.

  Bianca snapped her book shut and set it aside. “Since I’ve so much time later, I suppose there’s no reason I shouldn’t go to the modiste now.”

  If nothing else, it would get her out of her stepmother’s presence.

  DESPITE KNOWING THAT Helen was trying to subtly take notes in a little notebook about everything Bianca chose, she enjoyed her time at the dressmaker.

  The pattern she selected had a great deal of decorative flounces, but since they circled the skirt from the hem to the knee, she wouldn’t have any of them rubbing against her arms or getting in the way while she danced.

  The short bodice was a silk so thin it was nearly sheer, layered over a dark green, with only the underlying coloring and the neckline as decoration.

  Bianca was absolutely in love with the dress. She couldn’t wait for it to be ready for a fitting.

  Her buoyancy lasted until she stepped out of the shop and into the path of a promenading couple. She’d known, of course, that today was the day Hudson was taking Lady Rebecca for a walk.

  She hadn’t thought she would have to see it firsthand.

  Yet, there they were, arm in arm, being watched over by Lord Brimsbane instead of a maid. Hudson was correct that this courtship didn’t seem to be going as normal. Bianca wasn’t sure if she should confirm that for him, though.

  She intended to smile and nod her greetings, but none of the party seemed interested in letting her escape so easily. After exchanging pleasantries, she moved to go on her way when Lord Brimsbane stepped up. “Would you care to walk with us?”

  “Please do,” Lady Rebecca said. “It will make Arthur stop looking like an overbearing brother.”

  “I am an overbearing brother.”

  She shook her head and gave a light laugh. “Be that as it may, there’s no reason to tell the world. Two couples on a stroll will garner far less attention.”

  Lord Brimsbane offered Bianca his arm, and there was nothing she could do but accept it, especially since Helen was already scribbling away in her notebook.

  She took his arm and smiled brightly. “Where are we walking to?”

  “I haven’t the slightest,” Lord Brimsbane said with a shrug. “Rebecca chose the way.”

  Lady Rebecca looked back at her. “Why don’t you lead for a while? I was simply showing Lord Stildon the town, since he is new here.”

  Bianca gladly accepted the role of guide, partly because it gave her something to focus on, but also because it meant Hudson and Lady Rebecca were now behind her and well out of her line of vision.

  She’d tried to settle herself on the idea that Lord Brimsbane would make a suitable husband. He was everything a girl could ask for. It wasn’t as if many husbands and wives spent a great deal of time in each other’s company. At least she knew he would be kind to her.

  But if her future meant a lifetime of watching Hudson with Lady Rebecca, she would have to reconsider.

  Or get over this crazy infatuation with Hudson.

  Pe
rhaps both were in order.

  She directed them toward the center of town and the one Newmarket site Hudson probably hadn’t even known existed.

  They walked along in companionable silence, Lord Brimsbane occasionally remarking on a store window as they passed it, until they reached the stone pillar at the center of town.

  Bianca threw her arm out with a great flourish. “And this is where it all began.”

  Hudson looked from her to the pillar to the building just behind it. “The Crown? I wouldn’t have thought the pub your normal establishment. Is this a frequent haunt of yours?”

  Bianca tried not to smile, truly she did, but she couldn’t help laughing as she said, “No. This is where the races began. We’ve other courses now, obviously, but this is the starting marker. Racing from here to the center of Cambridge is thirteen miles.”

  Hudson looked down the path, and Lord Brimsbane shared the history of the straight path that once lay between the towns and how the courses and landscape had changed over time.

  Bianca was impressed with his knowledge, but not with the man’s delivery or his timing. The longer they stood here discussing racecourses, the longer she had to watch Hudson and Lady Rebecca arm in arm.

  A man exited The Crown and grumbled about them blocking the road, which gave Bianca the perfect excuse to suggest they continue walking.

  She also took the opportunity to disconnect herself from Lord Brimsbane’s arm. As perfect as the man seemed, walking so close to his side had made her feel awkward and crowded.

  Pointing at a brick building, she said, “The palace was there.” She frowned. “Or is still there? The Duke of Rutland turned that part into an inn not two years ago, but the rest still belongs to the king, I think. There are rumors that they intend to sell off the other sections of the palace. It’s just as well because—”

  “Watch out there.” An arm snagged around Bianca’s waist and swung her clear of a large puddle.