Vying for the Viscount

by Kristi Ann Hunter

  “Oh.”

  A stillness fell over the entire Heath, and then, in a flurry of movement and a chunk of thrown grass, the two horses were off.

  The men who’d been on foot near the start ran for their own mounts to be able to cut the corner and see the finish for themselves.

  The crowd noise rose as everyone cheered and yelled and speculated over the dots in the distance. The blue one was significantly ahead of the red as they went into the portion of the course that wasn’t visible from the finish.

  “I’ve never watched the race from down here.” Lady Rebecca leaned across her brother to speak to Bianca. “It’s quite excit—Oh!”

  Lady Rebecca was not smiling as she looked over Bianca’s shoulder with wide, almost panicked eyes.

  Bianca spun around to see Aaron rushing toward them. She smiled in his direction. This was good. She had been wanting to see how Lord Rigsby reacted to her rather ostracized friend. If he treated Aaron well, it would be one more indication of the type of potential husband he would be. If she was going to be forced to choose practically, she was going to ensure he was the best he could be.

  Lady Rebecca pushed past her brother and hissed directly into Bianca’s ear. “Did you know he was going to be here?”

  Bianca pressed her ear to her shoulder to relieve the strange tingle the close whisper had caused. “Of course. He’s the stable manager.”

  Lady Rebecca’s eyes darted about wildly. “Then why would you let—oh dear, he’s here.”

  “They’re running well,” Bianca said as Aaron approached, “should be coming around the bend any moment.”

  He nodded as he came to stand behind Hudson and Lord Rigsby, watching over Bianca’s head. “Apollo was looking frisky. It should be a good run.”

  Lord Rigsby jerked around so quickly that he nearly knocked Hudson over.

  “Oh my, oh my, oh my,” Lady Rebecca murmured under her breath, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

  Bianca looked back and forth from Aaron to Lord Rigsby. Both men were staring at each other, expressionless. She looked at Hudson, who was taking in the exchange with a look that showed as much confusion as Bianca felt. A glance over her shoulder, however, showed not everyone was clueless. Several people, mostly the visitors, were watching the men instead of the race.

  Most were whispering. Two men exchanged money. Lord Brimsbane pushed his sister behind him.

  Bianca cleared her throat. “Lord Rigsby, may I present—”

  “He knows who I am,” Aaron bit out.

  “Oh. He does?” She looked at Lord Rigsby. “You do?”

  “I do.”

  Bianca looked at Aaron. “And you know who he is?”

  “I do.”

  Hudson stepped closer, standing shoulder to shoulder with Bianca. “Well, I thought I knew both of you, but I’ve no idea what’s going on here.”

  The glare Aaron turned onto Bianca and Hudson had her taking a step back and partially shielding herself behind the viscount.

  “Do you know who his father is?” Aaron asked tightly.

  The noise about them lifted to a roar as the men continued to stare at each other.

  The horses flew by, but Bianca didn’t even glance their way. Suddenly, people were moving everywhere, pulling Hudson away and shoving Bianca into the small space between Lord Rigsby and Aaron.

  No one said anything until the noise had shifted far enough away to make yelling not required.

  “I don’t understand,” Bianca said, looking from the man who’d been practically a brother for the past year to the man she’d been giving serious consideration about marrying.

  “Do you know who he is?” Aaron asked.

  “Lord Rigsby.”

  “He means,” Lord Rigsby said, “do you know who my father is.”

  “I, well, no.” Bianca frowned. She thought back through their conversations, and while he’d talked about his father often, it was always as “my father.”

  Lord Rigsby sighed. “I am the eldest son of the Marquis of Lindbury.”

  “The eldest legitimate son,” Aaron added roughly.

  Bianca pressed her hands to her cheeks. No, it couldn’t be. Of all the people in all of England, this couldn’t possibly have happened. “Oh dear.”

  “I suppose I know why Father avoids Newmarket now,” Lord Rigsby said. “He should have warned me.”

  Aaron turned away from his half brother and looked past him. “Apollo won. My work here is finished.”

  Then he left before anyone else could say a word.

  Bianca watched him stalk back to his horse and collect the reins before leading the animal away. He didn’t even bother mounting up and riding away. He just kept walking, shoulders stiff and straight, and a hitch to his gait, as if his knees weren’t quite bending correctly.

  Should she go after him? Give him time to think?

  She turned back to Lord Rigsby, who was looking at the ground. It seemed hours passed before he looked up at Bianca. His smile was sad as he reached out and brushed aside one of her curls.

  “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Snowley.”

  “That sounds a great deal like good-bye.”

  “Because it is.” He stared into the distance, where Aaron was nothing more than a blur. “I’ve taken enough from him, simply by existing. I won’t take his friends too.”

  “It isn’t your fault.” She knew more than anyone that a child couldn’t be judged by the parent. Gracious. She couldn’t imagine having someone decide who she was based on their interactions with Mrs. Snowley.

  “No,” he agreed, “but it is true nonetheless. I enjoyed our talks.” He gripped the tip of his hat and nodded in her direction before slowly walking away.

  Bianca whirled around, wondering where everyone else had gone and if anyone had witnessed what just happened.

  Neither Lady Rebecca nor Lord Brimsbane was behind her anymore. Had they been swept in with the same crowd that had swirled about, congratulating Hudson?

  Where was Hudson?

  She scrambled up the side of the ridge where the carriages had parked and looked down over the crowd.

  There. She found Hudson.

  And by his side, smiling as the congratulations flowed, was Lady Rebecca.

  Thirty-One

  With the way everyone was huddled around Hudson, one would think his horse had just won the Derby instead of an unofficial local challenge race. From what he’d heard, it wasn’t as if the victory was even all that surprising, so why did it seem like everyone wanted to be around him?

  Probably because he suddenly wanted to be anywhere but around them.

  Not anywhere, actually. He wanted to be wherever Aaron was to find out what had happened between him and Lord Rigsby.

  Finally, Hudson was able to thank his jockey and work his way out of the main crowd of people. Lord Brimsbane and Lady Rebecca stood off to the side. The lady’s customary smile was tight at the corners, and Lord Brimsbane wasn’t leaving her side.

  Hudson crossed to them. “Do either of you know what happened?”

  Brimsbane’s gaze narrowed. “You mean you don’t?”

  “If I did, I wouldn’t ask.”

  “Rigsby is Mr. Whitworth’s brother. His younger, legitimate brother.”

  All the air left Hudson, as if an elephant had just stepped on his chest. “Do you know where he is?”

  “Rigsby?” Lord Brimsbane’s lips flattened into a tight line.

  “No, Whitworth.”

  Some of the tension left Lord Brimsbane’s expression. “He’s gone. Took his horse and left. My guess would be he went home.”

  And Hudson had only a vague idea where his home was. What kind of friend was he? The kind who had been obsessed with making a name for himself, which wasn’t much of a friend at all.

  Lord Davers came up beside Hudson. “Celebratory drinks?”

  As if Hudson could go laugh in a tavern without knowing if Aaron was packing his bags and taking up permanent residence i
n those strange London rooms of his. “Perhaps later.”

  Lord Davers gave him a strange look but departed with another group of men.

  “He lives near Lord Farnsworth,” Lady Rebecca said. “We can take you. Our carriage is at the end of the row.”

  “I would appreciate it.”

  He checked that a stable lad was taking Apollo back to the training stable, then joined the brother and sister in the carriage, holding his breath with every congestion-induced delay as the other conveyances tried to leave the area.

  Once they were free of the Heath, it took little time to reach the estate.

  “Where is the cottage?” he asked as the carriage rolled down the drive.

  Brimsbane shook his head. “I don’t know. I just know it’s somewhere on this property.”

  Hudson nodded. Aaron would be a private sort of fellow. Maybe it wasn’t such a sign of bad friendship that he didn’t know where the cottage was. “Lord Farnsworth will know.”

  “Lord Farnsworth is here?” Lady Rebecca asked and then gave a small cough. “I thought he lived in London.”

  “He traveled with Mr. Whitworth when he came back from London.”

  The carriage stopped, and Hudson didn’t wait for a footman to open the door. He pushed it open himself and jumped to the ground.

  The front door opened as he approached. “What’s wrong?” Oliver asked as he stepped outside.

  “Where does Aaron live?”

  Oliver’s eyebrows flew up. He looked over Hudson’s shoulder to the carriage, swallowed hard, then directed his attention to Hudson again. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Rigsby,” Brimsbane said from a few feet behind him.

  Oliver looked over at his other impromptu guests once more. This time the pause was longer before he looked away, shoving a hand through his hair and mussing the perfectly smooth configuration. “What did Rigsby do?”

  “He walked away,” Hudson said, “but I need to apologize for having him there in the first place.”

  “Why would you do that?” Oliver ran his hand through his hair again and then placed his hands on his hips.

  “I didn’t know.”

  “You didn’t ask?”

  Hudson scoffed. “Do you go around asking men you meet if they are somehow scandalously related to every other man you know? I wouldn’t even know Aaron was illegitimate if he hadn’t announced it to me at our first meeting.”

  “He does like to get that out of the way these days.”

  “Oliver.” Hudson drew the name out in a tone he hoped was menacing enough to get the man to give up the information but not threatening enough to make him keep it to himself.

  “Three-quarters of a mile that way. There’s a path just beyond those trees.”

  “Thank you.” Hudson took off at a jog, breathing hard by the time he reached the little cottage.

  A small barn, nearly as big as the cottage itself, stood to the side. Shadow was poking his head out of a window in the barn, so Hudson knew he was in the right place.

  He gave the door two sharp knocks, then stepped back, trying to catch his breath.

  Aaron opened the door. His eyes widened when he saw Hudson. He leaned out the door and looked both ways, as if making sure he’d come alone. “What are you doing here?”

  “Apologizing?”

  Aaron frowned. “For what? It’s not as if you knew who he was.”

  Hudson placed one hand on his hip and gestured back in the direction he’d come from. “That’s what I said, but Oliver thought I should have asked.”

  “That would have made everything awkward.” Aaron stepped inside and held the door wide. “You may as well come in.”

  Hudson entered the little cottage, which was really a single room, divided into sections with furniture. “I didn’t get to see everything, but they said you left angry—”

  “Of course I did. I wasn’t expecting to see him. The marquis has always avoided Newmarket. It’s been a sort-of unspoken agreement between us that this was my area. They got the rest of the world.”

  Hudson frowned. “Why is he here, then?”

  Aaron shrugged. “Because the rest of the world is not enough? Because his father didn’t see fit to tell him not to come? I don’t know. I do well enough when I know I’m going to see him, which isn’t often. When I’m taken by surprise”—he shrugged again—“I leave.”

  “I see.”

  Aaron put a pot of water onto a small cookstove. “Do you?”

  Hudson sat at the wooden table near the kitchen area. “Do I what?”

  “See?”

  Did he? He’d thought so. He understood why Aaron would want to avoid Rigsby and why the surprise had made him angry. He understood that it would be easier for Aaron if Hudson picked sides, and he was willing to do so.

  Suddenly, none of that seemed to be what Aaron was talking about, though. “I don’t know. . . . Do I?”

  “No. You don’t.” Aaron moved about, efficiently pulling out mugs, tea, and sugar from various places.

  “Do you cook down here?”

  “Just tea and the occasional breakfast. A boy brings my other meals from the house.”

  “Oh.”

  Aaron grunted and checked the water.

  Hudson fiddled with a mug. “What don’t I see?”

  Aaron gave a humorless laugh and shook his head. “Do you know why I’ll never marry?”

  That was not what Hudson was expecting. “Um . . .”

  “Because I’ve nothing to offer her but myself.”

  Hudson sent the mug spinning on the table as he sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. While he understood that statement, Aaron’s saying it so baldly made him uncomfortable.

  Aaron took each mug and scooped water from the pot before dropping a clump of tea into each one.

  Hudson’s mouth tilted up. “I don’t think that’s how you make tea.”

  “It’s how I make tea. Take it or leave it.”

  Hudson sat forward and wrapped his hands around the mug, more to give them something to do than a desire to drink what was sure to be awful tea. “Explain.”

  “What is there to explain?” Aaron looked around the cottage. “I can’t bring a wife home to this.”

  “I know how much I pay you. You could afford more than this.”

  “A better house, yes, but not a better life. My father acknowledged me. He sent me to school, forced London society to allow me to dally on the fringes, and made sure I wouldn’t become a wastrel. As soon as his back is turned, though, they shut me out again.”

  “Not everyone needs high society.”

  Aaron shook his head. “Said the man who’s willing to ruin his life for a good reputation.”

  Hudson looked up from the swirl of murky tea. “What?”

  “You heard me. My birth means my wife would be ostracized, my children shunned. The happiest marriages are the ones that are more about the couple than the business, but even the strongest love will crack under enough pressure.”

  Aaron took a swill of tea. “What you don’t see is that you don’t have to worry about any of that. You can give a wife every comfort, but it will mean nothing if you don’t give her yourself.”

  “How do you know that? Have you seen so many marriages that you’re an expert on them?”

  “From afar. You’ve seen them too, if you think about it. Lord Trent and Lady Adelaide?” Aaron shook his head. “That entire family is obnoxiously happy because they married for love. I thought it had something to do with the comfort of it all until I watched Graham fall in love.”

  He shook his head again and downed the rest of his tea in two long swallows. “It isn’t the comfort that makes the love good. It’s the life that makes their love good.”

  “Then why won’t you marry?” If Aaron truly believed that love was most important, then it could overcome those other issues.

  Aaron stood and grabbed his mug from the table. “Maybe I’ve just never met the right woman. You, ho
wever, have, and you’re so busy being stupid that you’re going to lose her.”

  He leaned both hands onto the small worktable by the cookstove. “Do you know how many times I prayed for a life like yours?” His voice was so low, Hudson had to stand and step closer to hear it clearly. “Every night for years, I prayed that God would work a miracle and I would wake up legitimate and in my father’s house. The day I met Rigsby I stopped praying, because I knew the position I’d asked God for had already been given to someone else.

  “At that point, I vowed to go it alone, but Graham wouldn’t take no for an answer, and he hauled Oliver right along with him. So I tried to hide in the stables, but Bianca kept trouncing in, and then you showed up. All of these people in my life with so much going for them and all of you are so very stupid, and I have to just watch because there’s nothing else I can do.”

  Hudson wanted to be offended that Aaron had just declared him stupid, but there’d been such anguish in his voice that he couldn’t bring himself to care.

  “Go home,” Aaron said, pushing up off the worktable to a standing position. “Go home and think about this. At the end of the day, it’s your life.” He shrugged. “And I could be wrong. Maybe you’ll be perfectly happy with your decisions.”

  Hudson wanted to pry, to get Aaron to say whatever he was saying more clearly, because it seemed like he was bothered by something far more than Hudson.

  Asking for more would be selfish, though. After a day like today . . . It wasn’t as if Aaron had approached Hudson about this. Hudson had forced his way into Aaron’s home. The man deserved to be able to say as much or as little as he wanted in his own home.

  “Will you be at the stable tomorrow?”

  “Of course.” Aaron crossed his arms. “Likely in the afternoon, though. I’ve some work to do here first.”

  Hudson nodded. “I’ll see myself out.”

  One side of Aaron’s mouth kicked up. “Think you can find the door?”

  Hudson gave a small smile in return and then left, his mind already churning over the possibilities Aaron had implied.

  Thirty-Two