The Viscount Deception: A Sweet Regency Romance Adventure (Mayfair Mayhem Book 3)

by Wendy May Andrews

  “Well now, milord, me patrons value their privacy. I’m not so sure I should be sharing any such information with you. Perhaps this Manfred fellow isn’t looking to be found.”

  Wesley clenched his fist in an effort to restrain himself from planting the man a facer. It would not do to resort to violence at this point, he reminded himself, especially not in front of a lady. But, oh, it was a challenge to stand there and not bruise up the man’s already ugly face. No doubt others had been in the same predicament as he was but had been unable to restrain themselves. This thought brought him sufficient amusement to be able to calm down his ire for the moment.

  He glanced down at his companion and could see from the bloom of colour on her cheeks that she was in full agreement with him in thinking the small man a buffoon. Wesley sighed and flipped a coin into the landlord’s suddenly outstretched hand.

  “Well now, milord, there did be someone calling themselves Manfred that passed through me fine establishment a couple days past. But I cannot say for certain if he be the very one you be looking for, now can I? Did you have a proper description of the fellow?”

  Anne finally spoke up, which was a bit of a relief for Wesley as he couldn’t rightly recall what her father looked like. He was pretty sure he would have been able to pick him out of a crowd, but to describe him, he would have been nonplussed. Wesley recalled Lord Austen as being the most nondescript person he had ever seen. But his daughter clearly had a different opinion. Wesley had to blink over the lengthy list of attributes she shared.

  “He is this tall.” She gestured with her hand, showing him to be about half a head taller than her. “His hair is the colour of gingerbread, and his eyes are pretty much the exact same colour. He has a small gap between his two front teeth and a small mole on his left cheekbone. His hair has a tendency to stick up in the front of his forehead because of a funny growth pattern he has. His father always says it was because a cow licked him when he was a lad.” Wesley could hear her voice wobble on these last words, but she quickly gathered herself and carried on. “He was most likely wearing green, as that is his favourite colour, and he would wear it every single day if I did not prevent it.”

  The landlord was looking at her in amazement. “That is the most detailed description of another person I’ve ever heard. Are you his wife?”

  “No!” Anne declared hotly. “He is my father.”

  “Ah! That explains it for sure. Well, then, yes, madam, he was here three days ago. He seemed to be a little dejected but in fine health. I don’t think youse need to be worried about him none.”

  Wesley stepped into the conversation once more. “Did he happen to mention where he was going after he left your, uh, fine establishment?”

  The landlord didn’t seem to notice his hesitation and preened over Wesley’s words. “I couldn’t say for sure where he is right now, but I do know that he hitched a ride with Ben Downs when he was heading out of town. Maybe the other fellers at the bar know where Ben was heading.” The sleazy landlord eyed them for a moment before offering. “Why don’t you two sit here for a moment and I’ll go ask the fellers.”

  Wesley nodded and the man left them on their own. Anne had not yet let go of his arm, and the viscount wondered if she had even forgotten that she was doing so. He patted her hand, wondering if she were in need of reassurance. Her nervous laughter answered his unasked question, and she quickly unwrapped her hands from around his elbow.

  “I do apologize, my lord. I hope I have not caused your arm to go quite numb. I have a feeling my father would have apoplexy if he was to find out I had set foot in this place. Perhaps this was not the very best idea.”

  “No need to apologize, my lady. It is rather I who should be apologizing to you for bringing you here. I had not realized from the Runner’s description that it was quite this low.”

  Anne giggled over his words. “Now, now, my lord, have you forgotten that this is a fine establishment? You did say so yourself.”

  Wesley grinned, appreciating that she was able to maintain her sense of humour despite the discomfort she was obviously feeling over being here.

  “I do hope he returns quickly, my lord. I am feeling quite ready for that cup of tea you promised me.”

  He couldn’t resist reaching out and tweaking her curls as they lay so fetchingly on her shoulder. “You, my dear, are the one who is being the jester now.”

  Before they could dissolve into hilarity, the landlord strode in. “You are a lucky devil, milord. The fellers recalled that Ben was headed to Wycombe, and they’s pretty sure your friend Manfred went with him.”

  Wesley flipped the man another coin, grabbed Anne’s hand, and headed out the door while calling out, “Thank you, my good man.”

  Once they had regained the street, Wesley slowed his pace, allowing Anne to come by his side. “I do believe from now on we shall leave this search firmly in the Runner’s hands. What do you say?”

  “That would probably be best.” Anne’s tone was hesitant.

  “Why do you sound like that?”

  She offered him a slight shrug. “While that was not the best location for a debutante, I have to say, it feels good to feel like I’m doing something to find my father. It is anticlimactic to leave it completely in someone else’s hands. So, while I know you’re probably right, and the Runner will be more successful more quickly, it is still a trifle disappointing.”

  “I appreciate your honesty, my lady. I will ensure the Runner reports to us as regularly as possible. Hopefully we will have you reunited with your father before many more days have passed.”

  Anne was looking at him with glowing eyes as she said a heartfelt, “Thank you, my lord,” but then her face changed and she quirked her eyebrows at him. “Did you think to check on our estate, just in case he did just return home as you had suggested?”

  Wesley had to laugh. “I did, actually. That was the first place I had him go.”

  “Of course, my lord. I should have known you would think of everything.”

  Again, Wesley felt himself puffing up with pride over her obvious admiration. He had no response for her words, so he merely guided her along to the much more acceptable George Inn where they were quickly welcomed by a nattily dressed landlord who bowed discretely and asked if they would require a private dining room or if the common room would be acceptable.

  “There are no coaches expected this afternoon, my lord, and it is currently empty, so there is little chance of your lady being accosted.”

  “Thank you, Henry, that should be fine.” Wesley could see that Anne was pondering the appropriateness of the situation, but she accepted his words and followed the landlord as he led them to a table. The landlord quickly bowed himself away with the promise to return promptly with their tea.

  Once they were alone, Anne charmed him by leaning forward and whispering her question: “Promise me you will not think me completely ill-bred if I gaze around the room like a country bumpkin. It is doubtful my aunt will ever let me out on my own if she ever finds out where we have been this afternoon, so I wish to take full advantage while I have the chance.” She didn’t wait for his response but suited her words to actions, much to Wesley’s amusement.

  Ever a lady, she did manage not to allow her mouth to drop open, but she did display a surprising amount of fascination as she looked around the room. Before long, she brought her intelligent gaze back to meet Wesley’s. There was a furrow of confusion between her brows.

  “Can you explain to me why my aunt would have a fit of the vapours if she found out I was here? It doesn’t actually look much different than Gunther’s.”

  Wesley grinned over her question but then tried to explain it to her. “It is not the actual location your aunt is likely to have a problem with, but rather the possibility of associating with less than desirable fellow patrons. That is why Henry was quick to explain that there was no one else here.”

  Anne still looked dubious but nodded at his words. “That does sound plau
sible, my lord.” She paused and glanced around the room again before continuing. “While this seems to be fine to me, it is probably best if we only tell my aunt about our drive, not about any of the stops we have made.”

  Wesley appreciated that his companion was not being overly high in the instep. He smiled at her but forbore to comment, as Henry was returning with a laden tray.

  With a flourish, their host served them each delectable looking pastries and poured them steaming hot tea. When he asked if they needed anything else, Wesley waved him away.

  Anne’s sigh was not of the melancholy variety after she swallowed her first bite. She politely placed her fork back onto her plate before she grinned at Wesley. “This right here, my lord, is why I need to marry a gentleman of means. After the delectable treats I have been enjoying since being in London, I do not know if I could bear to return to Rowanwood and our housekeeper’s less than stellar cookery.” She paused, looking sheepish. “I suppose I shouldn’t blame her. I don’t know how to bake such delicious things either.” She took another delicate bite, her expression pensive. “Actually, my lord, now that I think on it, I really ought not to place this solution in finding a husband. There is nothing to say that I cannot learn how to bake my own treats, is there? And surely my father would enjoy it, too.”

  “Are you changing your mind about our plan?” Wesley questioned, surprised.

  Tilting her head and looking him straight in the eye, Anne answered. “I am trying to keep my options open, my lord. I think I am beginning to realize I would rather be happy than wealthy if I am forced to choose. And these pastries make me happy.”

  Wesley returned her grin, but inside he was thinking his respect for the chit was rapidly increasing. “I am glad you are enjoying the treat.”

  As they were finishing the last of their cakes, in the distance a clock could be heard sounding the hour.

  “Oh dear, is it really that late?” Anne asked. “My aunt is going to be beside herself if I am not home soon, as we are promised to the Wickshams’ and the Roxboroughs’ tonight.”

  “Two balls, my lady? You are going to be quite worn out on the morrow.”

  Anne’s trill of laughter answered his observation. “Is it not every debutante’s dream, my lord?”

  “Probably.” He smiled back at her while helping her to her feet. Wesley quickly settled with Henry and ushered Anne back out into the sunshine. “Have no fear, my lady, I shall return you to Town as quickly as possible. Your aunt shall have no reason to ring a peal over you if I can help it.”

  “Do not trouble yourself too much, my lord. Despite my warnings, she is no doubt sitting in her withdrawing room planning our wedding breakfast as we speak.”

  Wesley joined her in laughter but was amazed he did not feel a shudder of revulsion at her words. Perhaps it was time to allow his friends to take over escorting her. It would not do to let himself develop any feelings for the chit. He was most definitely not finished with his single days.

  Chapter Seven

  Within minutes, they were rolling along the road back to London, setting a brisk pace that was eating up the miles.

  Anne was pensive, trying to identify the emotion she was feeling. It had been a long time since she had experienced it. She suspected it might be contentment.

  She turned to the viscount, surprised that he had been quiet for so long. She frowned when she saw the disturbed expression on his face. “Is something troubling you, my lord?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes,” he replied. When she merely looked at him with raised eyebrows, he continued, “I think you should make clear to your aunt that even if you were to catch me in a compromising situation, I would suppress the gentleman in me and refuse to do what most would consider the honourable thing. I am not such a fool as the Earl of Heath.”

  Anne felt as though he had struck her with that statement. She felt the colour ebbing and flowing in her face but could not come up with a suitable reply to his uncalled for statement. She willed the tears she felt gathering in her eyes not to fall. She did not want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had hurt her, as she was certain that had been his aim.

  “From what I heard, the earl and countess have found joy with one another, but I will be sure to tell my aunt your feelings on the subject,” she answered him, trying not to sound too sarcastic. There was a lengthening silence as she contemplated his words further. “It does strike me as rather strange that you would escort me on this errand if you were in fear of me trying to entrap you into marriage, my lord.”

  Her stilted tone must have finally gotten through to the viscount as he quickly set about trying to reassure her. “No, no, my lady, I can assure you, I am not actually in fear of you trying such a stunt. I know full well that you backed out of doing it even with the duke, but I think you should ensure your aunt understands that such a ploy would not work with me, just in case she is of a similar mind as your father.”

  Anne looked at the viscount, mortified. “Do you actually think I won’t be able to find a husband without trapping him? What do you consider to be so horrible about me that no one will want me?”

  She could see that the viscount was suitably horrified at the direction this conversation was heading, but she did not care to spare his feelings.

  “I am truly sorry, Lady Anne. I did not mean to so insult you. It was just your comment about your aunt planning our nuptials that set me on edge. Clearly, I spoke without thought. I beg of you to forgive me for being so mutton headed.”

  Anne was not fully mollified, but she could not help the watery chuckle that his words prompted. “I can assure you, I have no wish for an unwilling groom, nor am I about to try to change your mind. But might I ask why you are so dead set against marriage?”

  “I am not actually so opposed to it in theory. In fact, I know that someday I will have to settle down and become leg shackled. I would even go so far as to say if I had met you five years from now I would be much more interested in your aunt’s schemes. But I have not yet finished enjoying my life as a bachelor, and I will not allow anyone to hurry me in that direction.”

  “That is fine, my lord. I doubt I would want to be leg shackled to an overbearing rake such as yourself with an overinflated opinion of his own importance. I have every intention of finding a nice quiet gentleman who is anxious to settle down to a quiet life with me. I have no desire to have to drag someone to the altar.”

  Anne could feel the viscount’s discomfort with the turn the afternoon had taken, but she was too disappointed herself to be able to smooth it over just at the moment. She felt as though her foundations were once again being shaken. It reaffirmed her conviction that she had no one to rely on except herself. Melancholy swamped her for a moment, but she allowed herself to relax and enjoy the scenery.

  Within a few minutes, she was able to pull herself back from despair and before they had travelled a couple of miles, she had allowed the familiar scenery to lull her back into a more comfortable feeling. Finally she felt ready to resume conversing with the viscount.

  “Have you been to the theatre yet this Season, my lord?”

  He appeared surprised by her question but quickly responded. “I have, yes, a time or two. It is not my very favourite activity, but it can be a pleasant way to pass the evening. What about you, my lady? Have you been to the theatre often?”

  “I have never been. My aunt does not have a box, and I have not yet been invited to join someone else in theirs. But I think I would enjoy the experience if I get to go sometime. Why is it not your favourite?”

  “The audience can be unbelievably rude. I think the players on stage have probably put a great deal of effort into preparing their parts and yet most cannot be bothered to even watch.”

  “Not watch? Whatever do you mean? Surely that is the point of going to the theatre, is it not?” Anne was unsure if he were jesting with her.

  “I can understand why you would think so, but no, it does not seem that the wellborn consider the a
ctual production to be worthy of their attention. It seems the majority attend the theatre merely to watch each other.”

  Anne had to laugh over his words. “Well then, it is not unlike any other event of the Season, my lord. But it does seem a shame. And I still think I would like to see it for myself.”

  “I shall arrange for a box and make a group so that you can attend. Would sometime next week work for you, do you think? Or have you already accepted invitations for every evening?”

  Anne frowned, not at his words, but at the way her unreasonable heart seemed to skip a beat at his words. She admonished herself not to be a widgeon and quickly answered the viscount. “I would not want to put you to any more trouble than you have already done for me, my lord. That would be too kind of you.”

  “I strongly doubt there is such a thing as too kind, my dear. And it is no trouble. It is not as though I dislike the theatre, just the other patrons. And I will ensure that I like everyone in my box, so it shan’t be a trial at all.”

  Anne was doubtful over his words but was so anxious to go that she decided not to quibble. “Well, if you are sure, my lord, I will not be missish about it but will readily admit that I would be delighted if you could arrange it and include me. You would probably have to include my aunt in the invitation, unless you have some other equally acceptable matron that you could include.”

  “Leave that all with me,” he assured her. “I will make sure it is highly acceptable. But you didn’t say if you are engaged for every evening.”

  “I do not think we have yet accepted invitations for most of next week. My aunt likes to wait and see if we get any better offers.” Anne felt the heat creeping once again into her cheeks. “Does that not seem rude, my lord? I feel badly for the hostesses who are waiting to know their numbers.”