“The pleasure was mine, my dear.” He made short work of steering through the traffic and within minutes, they were pulled up in front of her Aunt Sophie’s house.
“Are you all set for the theatre tomorrow evening?” he asked as he handed her down from the high vehicle.
“I am, my lord, thank you. I am looking forward to it with great anticipation.” Her twinkling eyes and cheerful grin made his hand squeeze reflexively where it still held hers, causing her to look at him in question.
He ignored her unspoken question, merely offering her as neutral smile as he could muster. “I will probably see you this evening, but if not, I shall see you on the morrow.”
“Thank you, Lord Dunbar, I shall be seeing you.”
Wesley watched as she made her way up the stairs and was admitted by the butler. He shook his head at himself as he finally prompted his horses to proceed. He really had to get that chit out of his head.
Chapter Twelve
The ball was in full swing by the time they arrived. Aunt Sophie and Anne had been invited to a dinner party hosted by Lord Seymour’s mother. It had been quite a lovely experience, and Anne was feeling far more optimistic about the possibility of Lord Seymour proposing. She would have preferred her father being there to help her with this important decision, but it was looking as though she were going to have to muddle through on her own.
Aunt Sophie was of little help in the matter. She felt it all came down to the gentleman’s bank balance.
“Under normal circumstances it would be decidedly déclassé to talk about money, my dear, as I am certain you are well aware. But when it comes to arranging a marriage, it is really all that matters. Especially for you, in your circumstances, there is really nothing else to consider as long as the man is accepted in polite Society,” she had said to her on their way to the baron’s home. “Lord Westlake is a lovely gentleman, but his pockets are not nearly so plump as Lord Seymour’s.”
Anne blushed just remembering the conversation. It had bordered on vulgar, in her opinion. While she was quite well aware that she and her father were living on a shoestring and might soon have to face their creditors, she did not think it was at all acceptable to actually talk about it, especially not in the predatory way that Aunt Sophie had done.
Of course, the old dear was right in a certain way. Anne couldn’t be squeamish and hold out for a love match like some of the debutantes were wont to talk about. She was grateful that the gentleman who seemed most ready to come up to scratch was well off and attractive to boot. And the fact that his home was near Rosedale was icing on the cake.
She was glad that Lord Seymour’s mother had thought to invite her to her dinner party. From the looks of it, it had been more intended for her to entertain her own marital prospects than for her son’s benefit. It had been wildly entertaining to watch and listen to the older gentlemen vying for her attentions. It was even more delightful because one of her concerns about Lord Seymour had been whether or not his mother would be a burden. With it so obvious that the lady would be well able to catch herself another husband, Anne felt confident she could cast aside that particular concern.
It was impossible to quell the happy smile she knew was stretching her face, so she gave up trying. She was lost in thought and thus did not notice his approach, so she nearly jumped out of her skin when the viscount spoke to her.
“Good evening, my dear, you are looking well.”
With her hand clutched over her heart, she turned to her wide gaze onto him. “My lord! You nearly startled a year off my life.”
He laughed over her word choice. “I apologize, my lady. I didn’t know you would not be expecting someone to speak to you in this crowd of people.”
Anne’s scalp itched from the heat of embarrassment that climbed into her face at his teasing. “I was wool gathering, my lord, and did not notice you. Please, forgive my inattention.”
“There is nothing to forgive. But I was wondering if I could have a private word with you.”
She raised her eyebrows in question at him. “Is that really necessary, my lord?”
“I have something I need to tell you, and it is not something I think you would want to hear in public view.”
She searched his gaze, trying to read his thoughts, but all she saw was his kind, patient smile. Tucking her hand into his elbow, she returned his smile. “Very well, my lord, lead on.”
The viscount led her out onto the terrace through a set of French doors that had been left open to allow for some air. It wasn’t completely appropriate, but it would not ruin her to be found there. She did not demure.
“Are you having a good evening, my lord?” she asked, unsure why she wanted to put off hearing whatever he had to say.
“Not particularly,” he grumbled. “There is a harpy here who has been pursuing me for more than one Season. It seems she is determined that now is the time for me to come up to scratch. Little does she know that I have absolutely no desire to be aligned with her. While the thought of getting leg shackled is repellent in theory, considering marriage to her is downright repugnant.”
Anne couldn’t help laughing over his words. “What is so very awful about her? And do I know her? Because your description puts me very much of a mind to make her acquaintance.”
“Now you are just being vindictive,” he said, mock outrage in his voice, causing another gurgle of laughter to bubble to her lips.
“Please, my lord, you must tell me. I shall perish from the curiosity if you do not.”
“I cannot, as a gentleman, impugn her by telling you her name after I told you what I really thought of her.”
Anne continued to grin. “Your ideas of gentlemanly conduct amuse me, my lord. If you were truly a gentleman, you would never have said the slanderous words in the first place.”
“Now you’re the one being a harpy,” the viscount said but belied his words as he joined her in laughter.
“All right then, never mind about her. What did you have to tell me? Is it something about my father?”
Her nerves made her reach out and take hold of his hand without even realizing it. She was surprised when he patted her hand, obviously in an effort to offer her comfort. She made to pull back her hand, but he tightened his grip so she left it in his grasp, enjoying the thrill that shivered up her spine at the contact and almost forgetting the question she had asked.
“Yes, it is about your father.”
“Is he all right? I just received his letter telling me not to worry two days ago. Has he been hurt worse than we thought?”
“Hush now, my lady, do not get yourself into a taking. His injuries were not any worse than we had been lead to believe. In fact, I suspect they were not serious at all. No, the matter is concerning the widow who has taken him in. It seems she is not the matronly type of widow we might have imagined. I am afraid she might be taking advantage of your father.”
~~~
Wesley was enjoying holding Anne’s hand far too much. He ought to let her go, he told himself, but he was concerned that she would be overcome by the news he had just shared. It was obvious to him that she did not comprehend what he was saying as she gazed at him, blinking rapidly. And then she burst into laughter.
“But my lord, there is nothing to take advantage of,” she protested. “If she is after a man of means, she will catch cold at her efforts.”
Wesley could see what she meant but tried to get her to see where he was coming from. “But my lady, how will you feel if your father was to remarry?”
“I would actually think it was lovely as long as I thought she was a woman who would treat him well. He deserves to be happy after all the sorrow we have faced, don’t you think?”
Now it was Wesley’s turn to blink at her. “Well, yes, of course, I do not wish to imply I wouldn’t want your father to be happy, but would it not make you feel as though you were losing your home?” He was starting to feel like a simpleton. He was actually trying to preserve her feelings, but i
t was starting to feel as though he was going to hurt them.
He saw her tilt her head as though she were studying him, and he wondered what she might see. “Would that not be rather churlish of me, my lord?” she asked. “I am here for the Season trying to find myself a new home. It would be rather awful if I wanted to horde my old one, too.”
“Well, yes, of course,” Wesley stammered as he felt heat stain his cheekbones, thankful for the low lighting out there on the terrace, hoping she would not notice.
“Of course, my easy-going attitude on the matter would be sure to change if I thought she was anything like your harpy, though. So, I do appreciate your concern. Do you think I ought to journey there and make sure they do not wed before I have had a chance to examine her?”
Wesley was delighted to see her all fired up on her father’s behalf. He wondered what it would be like to have someone so caring about him. He shoved the random thought from his mind as he hurried to steady her.
“No, I do not think that is necessary. If you must know, the Runner actually had good reports about the woman, not at all someone you need be overly concerned about. I merely thought that you would be upset at the thought of someone taking your mother’s place.”
Anne shrugged, much to his surprise. “It would be impossible for anyone to take my mother’s place. But I would be happy for my father to find happiness once again. I think our hearts are remarkably versatile. Loving someone else does not diminish the love you had for the one who is gone. The relationship my parents had was beautiful and special. But when my father lost my mother, he also lost part of himself, particularly the rational part of himself, which is what has brought us to where we are now in the first place. So, if she is a decent woman, I will be glad for it.” She paused in thought for a moment, and Wesley found himself holding his breath once more. “But I do hope I get to meet her before she becomes my stepmother,” she concluded with a grin.
“You, my dear, are delightful.”
Anne laughed. “That’s not what you were saying just days ago,” she teased.
Wesley laughed with her. “Just as you said, the heart is versatile, I say, so is the mind. And I am not so mule headed that I cannot change my mind about something.” He kept hold of her hand but then put it through his elbow once more. “Now come along, my dear, someone is sure to be missing you, so I ought to return you to the ballroom before a search party is mounted.”
She tugged lightly on his arm just before they stepped through the open door. “Thank you for being my friend, my lord. I truly appreciate your concern.”
“Think nothing of it, my lady. Is that not what friends do?”
He ignored the flutter in his chest at the sight of her delighted smile. They spotted Lord Grey as they stepped into the crowded room. Wesley handed her over to his friend, giving him a speaking glance.
Sebastian quickly bowed to Lady Anne and invited her onto the dance floor as Wesley promised to procure them glasses of punch.
~~~
That dance passed quickly, and when they left the dance floor, Lord Seymour was waiting to escort Anne into the cotillion. She was surprised the viscount had not returned with the promised punch, but she didn’t bother much about it as they stepped into the familiar dance. She enjoyed the baron’s company, what snippets of it she could as they separated and returned through the movements of the dance. Anne was amazed how quickly the evening was passing. Once again, a dance was coming to an end.
As Lord Seymour was escorting her from the dance floor, they noticed a commotion developing near them. The baron tried to steer her away from an ill-bred scene, but Anne could hear Lord Dunbar’s voice in the skirmish and ignored the baron’s pressure on her arm. She wound her way through the gathering crowd with the baron on her heels.
Anne felt the blood draining from her head when she realized what was happening. This must be Dunbar’s harpy, she thought faintly as she wondered desperately what she should do.
The young woman would be quite lovely if her features were not screwed up into a shrewish pout, Anne thought, almost dispassionately as she heard what the girl was saying to a man who could only be her father. “He took advantage of me, Papa, now you must do something about it.”
The poor man looked as though he had been backed into a corner and had no acceptable way out. He looked suitably horrified, but it was unclear if it were directed at the viscount or his daughter as his gaze went back and forth between Dunbar and the harpy. “My dear, perhaps this is a conversation more suited to privacy,” he began.
“No, this needs to be dealt with now. Privacy will not help.”
Not help you trap Dunbar, you mean, Anne thought as she wrinkled her nose at the ill-bred scene playing out before her.
Lord Seymour had his hand on her elbow, obviously still eager to steer her away from witnessing whatever was to take place. “My lady, I do not think your aunt would wish you to be a party to this.”
Anne ignored his suggestion. The viscount was her friend, and she could not leave him to this woman’s mercies. Through the crowd, her eyes met his and she knew she would have to help if she could. Lord Dunbar looked angry and defiant and certainly not cowed by the woman’s efforts. Perhaps he wouldn’t need Anne’s help after all, but she could not leave until she had verified for herself that he was all right.
Though he looked pained to do so, the harpy’s father was asking her, “In what way has Lord Dunbar taken advantage of you?”
“He pulled me into our host’s library and ravaged me.”
Her father looked ready to faint. Dunbar looked ready to explode. The woman’s mother arrived on the scene and added her shrill demands to the noise already being generated by the shocked glee of the milling spectators.
“He shall have to marry her,” the mother declared, causing Anne to gasp. Of course! But really, she thought, her irritation making her caustic, what parents in sound mind would want to tie their daughter for life to someone who held no respect for her person?
“When did this take place?” the father thought to ask.
His daughter blinked, unprepared for an examination of her statement. “About fifteen minutes ago. It took me a few minutes to regain my composure in order to come and find you.”
Anne couldn’t keep silent. “So just before the country dance?”
The harpy turned to her with a glare. “I suppose so.”
Anne’s gaze once again met the viscount’s. She saw that he suddenly realized what she was about to do, and he shook his head at her. Anne ignored him.
Her heart felt as though it were beating three times its usual pace, and her stomach wanted to empty its contents, but Anne could not stand by while Dunbar was vilified. She glanced back at the baron and was filled with regret for the lovely, safe life she was about to throw away. Wesley had been quite clear that he would not rescue her if she ruined herself over him, but she could not ignore his plight.
“He could not have been taking advantage of you because he was on the terrace with me at that time for at least fifteen or twenty minutes, and I am almost certain he had just arrived before we stepped out for our conversation.”
While venturing out onto the terrace was only slightly questionable and not enough to ruin her, declaring it publicly like that would taint her sufficiently that she might have just consigned herself to a life of spinsterhood. She felt the baron recoil next to her as he dropped his hand from her elbow and stepped away from her side. She wanted to close her eyes and wake up in her room to find out this had been a bad dream, but she could not tear her eyes from the tableau in front of her.
The viscount looked as though she had knocked him in the head. While the harpy’s declarations had obviously angered him, Anne’s had made his face go pale and expressionless. Anne chewed on her lip with nerves as she watched the harpy’s face go deep red and her eyes shot daggers at her. Anne wondered if the woman were going to attack her. She also wondered if anyone would intervene to protect her.
Sud
denly, Lord Grey and Lord Spencer were on either side of her. They took her arms and almost dragged her away. To watching eyes, it would only look as though they were escorting her solicitously, but she was quite well aware that they would brook no argument. If she had dug in her heels, she had the impression they would have just picked her up and carried off. That thought almost made her smile.
“What were you thinking?” the earl demanded, his tone brimming with frustration despite the polite face he maintained.
“I couldn’t stand there and allow that woman to do that to him.” Anne tried to explain, but Lord Grey cut her off.
“Did you not think he could look after himself?” Unlike the earl, he was unable to keep the stormy expression off his face.
“Would it make you feel better to know I did not have a chance to actually think the matter through?” she muttered before asking, “Where are you taking me?”
“To your aunt,” the earl answered, his tone grim. “And then we are going to dance.”
“Dance?” Anne was slightly horrified. “But I thought we could go home now. Surely you do not expect me to stay here after that?”
“It is the only way to try to mitigate the damage you have done. If you can brazen it out, perhaps you will not be ruined.”
“I should not be ruined because I did nothing wrong.” Anne hated the hypocrisy of the ton in that moment and would not have minded if she would never again have to set foot in London.
“We shall see.” Lord Spencer didn’t bother to say anything more as they had arrived at the side of Lady Sophie. The older woman did not know the details, but she took in at a glance enough to realize what needed to be done.
“Oh Anne, what have you done?” she asked, disappointed. She didn’t wait for a response. “Never mind. We’ll deal with it later.” She turned to Sebastian. “Stop looking so dramatic. You should laugh as though she made some witty remark.”
The Viscount Deception: A Sweet Regency Romance Adventure (Mayfair Mayhem Book 3) Page 15