Save a Horse, Ride a Viscount

by Valerie Bowman

  She tried to keep her voice pleasant and calm. “I am well aware of what you plan for my future, Father, but I must tell you I disagree.”

  “Disagree with what?” Her father narrowed his eyes on her.

  She folded her arms across her chest. “With your plan to marry me off to Lord Clayton.”

  “Theodora, you must understand—”

  “I understand perfectly.” Her words came out in a clipped tone. So much for calm and pleasant. “The two of you discussed it, without my input, and decided quite high-handedly that a wedding would be the best way to handle the fallout and the potential scandal of my having stayed at Lord Clayton’s house for so long. I don’t agree with you.”

  Father’s jaw clenched and his lips turned into a thin line. “At the risk of angering you further, Theodora, I don’t require your agreement.”

  Her eyes flashed fire and she clenched her fists into the covers. This man may have been able to coerce her beautiful, sweet, quiet mother, but Thea was not about to let him frighten her into an unwanted marriage. The rest of her life, her future happiness depended on it. She would not die a wasting death in her bedchamber while her husband was in London with his mistress as her mother had. “On the contrary,” she shot back, “you do need my agreement. If you plan a wedding, I promise you I will not be there on the appointed day.”

  “What do you mean?” Father narrowed his eyes on her.

  “I mean exactly what I said. You cannot have a wedding without a bride. No matter what I have to do, I will not be there.”

  “Are you threatening to harm yourself?” Father demanded.

  She shrugged. That just showed how little her father knew her. She would not harm herself. She hadn’t even considered that thought, but if he wanted to believe that was a possibility, so be it. It suited her purposes to allow him to think that she had more than one option. “Or run away,” she replied, giving him a tight smile.

  “Run away? Where would you go?” Father clipped.

  She’d never wished she could stand more than this moment. “I’m hardly going to tell you that, but rest assured the scandal that would result from Lord Clayton being left at the altar would be much larger than my ruined reputation over the gossip in the paper.”

  Her father’s voice raised to nearly a shout. “May I remind you, Theodora, that this scandal and everything about it is your fault to begin with?”

  Her words shot like bullets through clenched teeth. “May I remind you, Father, that I asked you to take me home after I broke my leg and you refused?”

  Her father cursed under his breath. “You are stubborn to your own detriment, Theodora. Can you not see this is the best choice for your future?”

  “Can you not see that I am the best judge of what is best for my future? I do not wish to marry Lord Clayton.”

  “What does that have to do with it? You’ll be saving yourself from additional gossip. You’ll be sparing your brother and me, as well.”

  “Spare me the recriminations, Father. The fact remains I refuse to allow the two of you to decide my future so cavalierly.”

  Her father turned toward the door. “So be it, Theodora. You may remain an unwanted spinster the rest of your life.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Ewan slammed his palm against the top of his desk in his study, making the papers along with the quill and ink bounce. “Damn it!”

  Humbolt came rushing to the door. “Is something wrong, my lord? May I assist you with anything?”

  “Yes, something is bloody well wrong, but no, it’s nothing you can assist with,” Ewan replied. “My apologies for startling you, Humbolt.”

  Humbolt bowed and took his leave while Ewan picked up the letter from Blackstone that he’d just read and scanned it again. It was every bit as maddening reading it the second time.

  Clayton,

  I regret to inform you that Theodora refuses to agree to the marriage. I told her to prepare to marry you and she will not obey. She’s even threatened to run off if I force the matter. I’m afraid if insist, she’ll harm herself. I apologize for all of the trouble my daughter has caused you of late. This is now my family’s shame to bear and we shall involve you no further in our problems. Theodora has made her decision. She shall be forced to suffer the consequences.

  Ewan clenched his jaw. That fool. Blackstone had bungled it. Just as Ewan feared he would. You couldn’t tell Thea anything. You had to ask her. Learn her thoughts on the matter. Discuss it with her. And that’s precisely what Ewan had intended to do. Only now he seriously wondered if Thea would even accept his call if he were to visit. Damn. Damn. Damn. This whole affair had turned into a mess.

  Along with the letter from Blackstone, which Ewan had chosen to read first for some reason, was a letter from Thea. He ripped it open and scanned the page, already disappointed at the short length of the missive.

  Lord Clayton,

  Words cannot express the depth of gratitude I have for your extreme kindness. My deepest apologies for the trouble I have caused. Please give Alabaster an apple for me.

  Lady Theodora Ballard

  That was it? Those were the only words he was to receive from her? She knew that he and her father had drawn up a marriage contract. She intended to act as if that hadn’t even happened? All three of them knew if the men insisted and signed the thing, she would have no choice but to marry him. But Ewan didn’t want that, and her father apparently didn’t either. Blackstone had even mentioned that she might harm herself. Ewan seriously doubted that. He would, however, believe that she’d run away if it came down to it and that would cause an even larger scandal. He could just picture the gossip rags getting hold of the story that the two had become engaged and Lady Theodora had fled in order to escape the marriage. No. That would never do.

  If they didn’t marry, Theodora’s reputation along with that of her father and brother would be dragged through the mud, but eventually, the ton would move on to the next scandal. And as long as Thea didn’t intend to marry (and by all accounts she obviously didn’t) she’d just fade into the lore of spinsters with hints of scandal in their past. It might not be fair or right, but Ewan could continue with his life and his plans relatively unscathed.

  He needed to face the fact that Thea clearly wanted nothing to do with him. So much so that she preferred the life of a spinster, potential scandal, and would even run away from her own home, in order to keep from having to marry him.

  Ewan scrubbed his hands through his hair. Damn it. Fine then. He’d attempted to do the gentlemanly thing. He’d tried to be honorable and offer Thea the protection of his name. If she didn’t want it, refused it outright, threatened to flee from it even, he had no further obligation to the young lady. She’d been the one who’d sneaked into his stables. She’d been the one who’d fallen and broken her leg. She’d been the one who’d become an unwanted houseguest. And now she was the one who was refusing his help. So be it. He would go on with his life and forget about Lady Theodora Ballard and the complete chaos she’d caused in his affairs for several weeks this autumn. He would return to his normally ordered, carefully planned life.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Thea wheeled herself around to stare out the window of the drawing room. She’d just finished writing a letter to Phillip to say good-bye. She hadn’t seen her father in the two days since they’d argued. The barbs she’d traded with him seemed to play on a never-ending loop through her mind. So be it, Theodora. You may remain an unwanted spinster the rest of your life.

  Her father was right. She was unwanted. But she hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell him that that was the real reason for her refusal to marry Lord Clayton. Her father already believed she was a spoiled, selfish spinster. Why should she go to any trouble to disabuse him of that notion? Besides, even if she had told him that she knew Lord Clayton wanted another woman, her father would just brush off her concerns as unimportant. Father was much more interested in the fact that Clayton would marry her versus ca
ring that the man didn’t want to marry her. She was about to have what she feared would be a very similar argument with her brother.

  Anthony entered the drawing room behind Thea. He’d just returned from a trip to London, and she had quite a few things to say to her brother. It was freezing outside and despite the blanket on her lap, she shivered. She should move her wheelchair closer to the fireplace, but she couldn’t seem to muster the energy.

  “How are you feeling? How is your leg?” Anthony asked after shutting the door behind him and moving toward the settee in the center of the room.

  “It’s healing,” she answered curtly.

  “Father tells me that Dr. Blanchard said it should heal properly despite the coach ride.”

  “Yes. I’m quite fortunate.” Thea was done with small talk. She wheeled herself around to face her brother head-on. “Why didn’t you come for me? Why didn’t you write back?”

  Anthony sighed and scrubbed his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Thea. I truly am. But I spoke to Father about it at length and he insisted that you remain there. And I did write back.”

  Thea clutched at the arms of her chair. “Since when do you listen to Father? And you only wrote back once to say you weren’t coming and that took long enough.”

  Anthony braced his hands atop the back of the settee, clutching the fabric. “I couldn’t very well sneak you home without Father knowing about it. What would you have me do, hide you in the cellar?”

  Thea’s sighed was filled with frustration. She wheeled herself closer to her brother. “I don’t understand why Father was so dead set on my staying there. He knew the risk to my reputation, the risk to our family.”

  “I did mention it, more than once,” Anthony replied, lifting one brow. “It seems he was more worried about your leg healing properly than our family name.”

  Thea narrowed her eyes. “Why do I doubt that?”

  “Be that as it may,” Anthony replied. “I’m sorry I didn’t come for you. I’m sorry I didn’t stand up to Father.”

  “No,” Thea replied with another sigh. She lowered her chin to her chest and stared blankly into her lap. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m the one who went to Lord Clayton’s and broke my leg. I’m to blame entirely. I owe you an apology for ruining your prospects.”

  Anthony came over and squatted next to her chair. “Don’t worry about me, Thea. You know how the ton works as well as I do. I am an unmarried future earl. Men are always more protected than women in these situations. I’m worried about your reputation, your future.”

  Thea folded her hands atop the blanket. “The time for worrying about my reputation has come and gone. I’ve long since become a spinster. I would hate for this gossip to affect your future prospects.”

  Anthony squeezed her cold hand. “By the time I am ready to take a wife, no one will even remember this nonsense.” Her brother stood and stepped toward the fireplace, leaning an arm against the mantel, he faced her. “Now, as for you being a spinster … Father told me you’re refusing Clayton’s offer of marriage.”

  “Of course I am,” Thea shot back.

  Her brother folded his arms over his chest and eyed her down the length of his nose. “May I ask why?”

  Thea shook her head impatiently. “I should think it would be obvious why. I have no intention of ruining that man’s life.”

  Anthony’s brows shot up. “Ruining his life?”

  “Yes. Marrying him would be forcing him into an unwanted marriage with a woman who inserted herself into his life in the first place. Lord Clayton has been nothing but kind to me. I owe him an apology, not an unwanted future with an unwanted wife.”

  Her brother gave her a dubious look. “From what I know about Clayton, he’s not one to be forced into doing anything.”

  Thea gave her brother an impatient glare. “What would you call it, then? He obviously only offered for me to do the honorable thing.”

  “He is honorable,” Anthony agreed, “but that’s not a bad thing, Thea. You’re the daughter of an earl. It’s not as if Clayton would be marrying beneath him.”

  Thea dropped her gaze to her lap. “He’s engaged to someone else.”

  “Are you certain? I’d never read about that in any of the papers.” She could hear the skepticism in Anthony’s voice.

  “I heard it from his own lips,” Thea replied. She lifted her head to see her brother’s reaction.

  “Well.” Anthony’s mouth snapped shut. He rubbed his chin, still looking a bit skeptical. “I suppose that does change things somewhat. But I’m certain Clayton wouldn’t have agreed to it if he hadn’t been willing to marry you.”

  Thea fought the tears that stung the backs of her eyes. “There is a large difference between wanting to marry and agreeing to marry,” she said softly.

  Anthony’s voice grew softer too. “Do you want to be a spinster, Thea? Don’t you want your own home? Your own family?”

  The tears threatened to spill. Thea swung her chair around to face the windows again. “I’ll tell you what I don’t want. I don’t want to force a man to marry me.”

  Anthony cursed under his breath. “Damn it, Thea. Why must you be so stubborn? I truly believe you’re making a mistake.”

  Thea stared out the window at the gray skies. Never marry a man who doesn’t love you back, Thea. It’s pure torture.

  “No,” Thea replied in a whisper, wrapping her arms around herself and shivering from the cold. “If I married Lord Clayton, that would be the biggest mistake of my life.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Beau Bellham, the Marquess of Bellingham, had been at Ewan’s house for two days. Ewan had summoned his good friend there after writing him a letter. They needed to discuss Phillip’s future. And Beau, a spy for the Home Office as well as a marquess, was the perfect person to discuss such matters. Ewan, Bell, and Phillip were sitting in the study in the late afternoon, having a glass of brandy and discussing that exact subject.

  Ewan had begun the same sentence twice and both times he’d let it trail off as he stared past his friends out the windows of the study. For some reason, Ewan was imagining Thea riding Alabaster through the meadow, laughing and tossing her long dark hair.

  There had been no laughter in the house since Thea had gone. There had been no life. He and Phillip had begun speaking to each other in monosyllabic words. The things Ewan had done for pleasure before Thea had resided under his roof were no longer particularly pleasurable. None of it made any sense. He’d been perfectly content to take his meals alone before Thea had arrived, but now when Humbolt served him, he sorely felt the absence of her presence at the end of the table, laughing and jesting and answering his questions and asking her own. Phillip had replaced her at the dinner table of late but even his old friend’s company couldn’t account for Thea’s loss.

  She’d been unpredictable and unconventional. Both things that Ewan would have sworn weeks ago were undesirable to him, but now when he stared at the empty spot at the dining room table where she should have been, all he felt was the loss of her presence. He’d come to rely on their talks, her company.

  The truth was, he’d written Bell to get a little more company. This time of year, Ewan normally returned to London to see his mother, visit friends, and participate in a variety of holiday parties to which he was invited.

  This year, he told himself he was staying away due to the scandal in the papers. He would allow time for the commotion to die down before he returned to the city. But deep down, he truly hoped Thea would change her mind and agree to the marriage contract. He’d stayed in the country, day after day, waiting on tenterhooks for another letter from Lord Blackstone telling him that Thea had reconsidered. It made no sense, and he couldn’t even explain why he hoped for such a letter, but he did. And he was a bloody fool because no such letter appeared to be forthcoming. It had been nearly a fortnight.

  “What were you about to say?” Bell asked from the other side of the desk.

  “I—
What?” Ewan blinked and refocused his gaze on the marquess.

  “You were saying something about how we should escort Phillip back to London when the time comes,” Bell said, eyeing Ewan warily from his seat in the large leather chair in front of Ewan’s desk.

  Phillip glanced up from his brandy glass. “Don’t be too harsh on him, Bell. The man is missing his houseguest.”

  Bell frowned. “What do you mean? You’re right here.”

  “Not me,” Phillip said, the hint of a smile playing about his lips. “His other houseguest.”

  Bell turned his full attention to Ewan. “Other houseguest? What am I missing?”

  Ewan glared at Phillip. “Thank you for mentioning it, Your Grace.”

  Phillip inclined his head. His smile had widened. “You’re quite welcome.”

  Ewan expelled a breath before facing Bell’s questioning stare. “Don’t you read the papers, Bell?”

  “Papers?” Bell frowned again.

  “Specifically, the Times,” Ewan ventured.

  “The gossip pages of the Times to be precise,” Phillip added.

  Bell rolled his eyes. “No. I’m somewhat busy doing his Majesty’s bidding during a time of war, I’m not exactly interested in the ton’s silly gossip.”

  Ewan brought his brandy glass to his lips, but before taking a sip, he said, “I had a houseguest for a few weeks this autumn. A lady. Lady Theodora Ballard.”

  Bell shook his head. “Not familiar with the name.”

  “She’s young. Early twenties. Lives here in Devon,” Ewan replied, a vision of Thea’s beautiful face haunting his memories. “She’s the daughter of the Earl of Blackstone.”

  Bell’s brow furrowed. “What was she doing staying here if she lives in Devon?”

  “She, er, broke her leg here,” Ewan said, before clearing his throat.

  Bell eyed him warily. “Broke her leg?”