The Secrets of a Viscount

by Sande, Linda Rae

  But Adam’s broad smile and matching laughter had her keeping her seat just then. His laughter was infectious, the deep rumble sending frissons of pleasure through her entire body. That she could have said something he would find so humorous as to conjure such laugher was both a surprise and a delight. “I cannot imagine what you might do to deserve such treatment, my lord,” she managed after a time.

  “Oh, I can,” he countered with a mischievous grin. “Why, if we weren’t in such a public place, I might try it right now.”

  Diana sobered as she stared at the viscount. Part of her wanted to know exactly what he might try while alarm bells were keeping the rest of her mute. At his suddenly arched eyebrow, though, she blinked. “If we weren’t in such a public place, what might you try?” She was almost afraid of his answer.

  Adam swallowed. He hadn’t expected her to put voice to such a question. Why, he merely made the comment so he could watch in wonder as her face turned pink. She was so lovely with color on her cheeks, with her blue-gray eyes wide, as if in shock. “I am not a rake, my lady. Not a libertine, either. I was merely thinking of the...” Here, his voice suddenly lowered to a whisper. “The kiss we shared in the coach. I should hope that we indulge in one at least once a day, every day, for the rest of our lives,” he stated, his eyes never leaving hers.

  The remaining few spoonfuls of her strawberry ice long forgotten, Diana stared at Adam for nearly fifteen seconds before she allowed a nod. “I would like that, as well,” she admitted on a barely audible sigh.

  What could it hurt to admit such a thing? It wasn’t as if she would ever see the man again after this day ended. Once he had paid the bill for their ices, he would put her into a hackney and send her back to Warwick’s. He would then return to White’s to retrieve his mount and ride off to—

  “Where do you live?” she asked, not realizing just how forward the question sounded until the words were out.

  Adam feigned shock, an impish grin the tell that he found her question more amusing than scandalous. “I have a little bachelor house in Green Street. Although it would probably suit the two of us...” with a great deal of renovation and decoration, “... I would prefer we take up residence in a larger townhouse. Perhaps in South Audley or Curzon Street.” He didn’t add that they would move into Aimsley House in Park Lane once he had inherited the earldom.

  Diana’s eyes widened again. “Rather expensive addresses,” she murmured before realizing she still had a few spoonfuls of the strawberry confection in her dish, the edges of the ice having melted so it looked a bit like a pink sunny-side-up egg. She lifted the middle onto her spoon and brought it to her lips. “Are you quite sure we can afford such a home?” she asked before finishing off the ice. “Since you admit to not keeping your own ledgers.”

  Rather surprised—and a bit impressed—that she was so comfortable speaking of finances, Adam angled his head to one side. “Although I have already taken a seat in Parliament—by way of a writ in acceleration—”

  “What is that?” Diana wondered, unfamiliar with the term.

  “Ah. When the majority of Parliament gets a bit long in the tooth, they like to lower the average age by having a few of us younger nobles take a seat before we inherit. I have my father’s viscountcy, you see, so they let me in early,” he explained. “Now, I’ll admit I have no other source of income besides the allowance my father affords me every month,” he added carefully. “But it’s more than enough. That is, if I’m not spending my afternoons at Tattersall’s.”

  The mention of the auction house specializing in horses had Diana giving a start. “How many horses do you own?” she asked, her eyes widening.

  Leaning back in his chair, Adam regarded the teacher with an arched brow. “Three in my own stables, although I’m thinking we may have to find you a suitable mount,” he replied, suddenly excited about finding her the perfect horse. “A bay, perhaps? Or would you prefer something smaller? A Welsh pony?” At her sudden look of disappointment, Adam realized she would only be satisfied with the very best horseflesh. “An Arabian?” he offered. Dressed in a hunter green riding habit, she would look stunning atop an Arabian, he considered. She would look stunning atop me, he amended, ever so thankful he was sitting and not standing as he imagined her straddling him, her riding habit draped artfully off to one side as she rode him to a fast and frantic finish. He failed to stifle the odd groan that erupted from his throat just then.

  “I wouldn’t require anything quite that fast,” Diana countered, wondering what he was thinking just then. He had the most interesting expression on his face. Adoration and lust and...

  She straightened in her chair. “What, pray tell, are you thinking this very moment?” she demanded to know.

  Aware his face had taken on a decidedly reddish cast, Adam sighed. “You, in a hunter green riding habit,” he admitted. He didn’t verbally complete the scenario, deciding she would most probably slap him across the face.

  At least then he would know she felt affection for him. Probably loved him, if his mother’s words were true.

  Angling her head to one side, Diana considered his words. “I haven’t actually owned a riding habit since I was twelve,” she murmured, suddenly remembering her mother’s insistence that she and her old sister have them fashioned by her favorite modiste. She could count on one hand how many times she had worn the ensemble before her mother died of typhus.

  Sobering, Adam leaned forward so their heads nearly touched over the table. “We’ll have a modiste pay a call the day after we’re wed and have one or two made for you.”

  Diana’s eyes widened again. He loved seeing her blue-gray eyes like that, filled with wonder and delight and...

  “You bounder!” she accused.

  It was Adam’s turn to widen his eyes. “Why ever would you say that?”

  Her serious expression turned to one of amusement, and she was nearly giggling when she finally replied, “The very last person you’re going to want paying a call on us after our wedding is a modiste,” she replied. “Why, I expect you won’t want to see the light of day for at least...” She suddenly stopped, her hand moving to cover her mouth as her eyes once again rounded.

  Damnation! What was she saying?

  What must this man think of her cheeky manner? Her conversation laced with mentions of money and inappropriate comments that suggested there could be days of post-wedding debauchery?

  “At least three days,” Adam agreed with a nod. “You make a good point,” he stated before he suddenly realized what he had spoken out loud. Faith! The poor woman probably wouldn’t marry him given his inappropriate topics of conversation. Money and the acts that took place in a marriage bed and behind locked doors—not to mention the number of comments that were double entendrés (even if most of them weren’t intentional).

  “But after that, I shall allow the visit,” she agreed with an impish grin.

  “I do believe we’ll make the perfect couple,” Adam stated in a whisper.

  “As do I,” Diana agreed on a sigh. She suddenly sobered. “About my mother—”

  “The daughter of a baronet?”

  “Yes,” Diana replied, rather surprised he would remember the detail. “She...” Diana stopped, realizing how close she was to telling him the truth about her parents. Once he learned it, she was quite sure he would take his leave of her and never see her again. “She died when I was but fourteen years of age,” she said in a hoarse whisper, deciding not to mention what she had done for a living in her younger years. Before James Burroughs decided to make her his mistress.

  Adam blinked, resisting the urge to take her into his arms just then. “Your father must have been heartbroken,” he stated with a nod.

  Diana angled her head to one side, rather stunned by his words. Only a man who had come from parents who felt affection for one another could say such a thing. “He was,” she agreed, remembering how her father had spent days locked away in his apartments, his eyes red and bleary the night
s when he came out to check on her and her sister, Daisy. “He didn’t take a wife until nearly three years later.”

  “Devoted, then?” Adam suggested.

  “Very,” Diana countered before he had finished his reply. She couldn’t help but notice how his eyebrows arched up in surprise at her simple word. “I was rather surprised he held my mother in such high regard, and that he was so devoted to her for so many years. Not many men would be so, but my father was,” she added before burying her top teeth into her lower lip. “I suppose I should expect the same devotion from my husband.” The words were out before she had a chance to censor them, nearly hissing at how they must sound. Faith, but the viscount probably thought her far too outspoken to be an aristocrat’s wife. “Knowing all that, I suppose you wish to call off our betrothal,” she suggested on a sigh that carried as much disappointment as it did hope.

  Adam blinked, a bit dismayed she would think such a thing. Instead of answering it, he thought to discover something else first. “Have you and your father’s new wife forged a friendship?” he asked quietly, as if he truly cared for her. Her step-mother might be the reason Diana no longer lived under her father’s roof. Why she was teaching arithmetic and dancing at a finishing school instead of living under his protection.

  Noting he didn’t put voice to a reply suggesting he might wish to call off their betrothal, Diana wondered how to respond. She didn’t know if her father’s new wife even knew of her existence. “We’ve not even been introduced,” she whispered, wondering if everyone seated in Gunter’s had heard her earlier words. She couldn’t help the wash of red that she knew suffused her face just then.

  Of course, Adam didn’t put voice to an immediate reply. And he probably wouldn’t, she thought, crestfallen. He would be looking for a way out. A way to extract his offer of marriage and take his leave of the confectioner’s shop so their brief liaison would go mostly unnoticed.

  Diana couldn’t blame him.

  She was just a bit relieved they had the unpleasantness of truth out of the way before he had paid the one-and-twenty pounds for the special license.

  “I am truly sorry,” she managed, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

  The man before her frowned. “But, why?” he countered with a shrug. “Your father’s marriage changes nothing as it applies to us,” he reasoned in a whisper matching hers. “Does it?” he added uncertainly.

  Diana blinked. And blinked again. Had he completely missed her comment of requiring devotion—fidelity—from a husband? She had always thought her chances of an advantageous marriage were dashed, so she had given up hope of any marriage at all. As for her father’s marriage, it only brought the man up to snuff as far as Society was concerned. That her step-mother had born her father an heir was probably most important. “I suppose it does not,” she countered in a quieter whisper.

  Adam considered her words. Rather saddened she had thought it necessary to bring up the matter of fidelity, he decided he didn’t want her preconceived notions of his future fidelity—or lack thereof—to put a damper on what he had decided was one of the best afternoons of his life. “No, it does not,” he finally replied with a shake of his head. “As for my intentions, my lady, I promise I shall take my wedding vows very seriously,” he said with solemnity.

  Diana did something she never thought she would do in public in her entire life. She leaned forward and kissed the viscount. A peck on the corner of his lips, really, but a kiss, nonetheless.

  Adam stared at her for several seconds, his expression unreadable as he considered her words. And her attempt at a kiss. “You’re determined to make me fall in love with you before I take my leave of you, aren’t you?” he murmured with a hint of sadness. “It isn’t enough that I’m going to make you my wife? And be a devoted husband?”

  Frowning, Diana wondered if perhaps she had underestimated the man. “Perhaps,” she agreed with a slight smile. “Perhaps I will,” she admitted, not realizing just how hopeful her words sounded.

  Chapter 14

  A Butler Knows Best

  Back at Thorncastle’s townhouse

  Nigel waited until his master disappeared into his bedchamber before he entered the study to remove the tea tray. As he suspected, the viscount hadn’t availed himself of any of the remaining Dutch biscuits, nor had he poured himself another cup of tea. He had, however, been writing at his desk.

  The butler knew the telltale signs of Lord Thorncastle whilst he wrote missives. The constant murmuring. The occasional long pauses of silence as he considered what to write next. The sound of parchment being crumpled into a small ball and tossed into the tall basket positioned at the side of the oak desk.

  Lifting the tea tray from the table, Nigel took a quick look around before making his way to the basket. He dared a glance down, noting the only thing in the bin was the recently crumpled parchment the viscount had been writing before he put voice to his frustration. Dreck! He had heard the man call out. Dipping a bit, the butler reached the ball of parchment and plucked it from the bin.

  The tea tray in both hands and the crumpled missive stuffed into a pocket, the butler made his way out of the study and down to the kitchens.

  A missive needed to be ironed and mailed on the morrow. Or, since he could probably spare a footman, perhaps it could be delivered to a certain townhouse in Curzon Street before the clock struck eight. Along with a certain royal blue umbrella he had noted was still in the urn in the vestibule.

  Nigel certainly couldn’t trust his master to know what was best when it came to his future. Godfrey Thorncastle had proven he was quite inept when it came to members of the fairer sex. The man needed all the help he could get.

  Chapter 15

  Two Lovebirds Part Ways

  Meanwhile, back at Gunter’s

  Having never felt quite as calm as he did at that moment, Adam Comber regarded the woman who sat across from him and allowed a smile. “I look forward to our life together,” he murmured. “The sooner, the better, of course,” he added, as if he intended to have them married once they left the confectioner’s shop.

  Diana considered the man’s claim. “When do you expect that will be? I do have to teach tomorrow,” she said, a hint of humor in her words. The viscount might believe what he was saying, but despite the bit of hope she had felt the moment she kissed him, she still wasn’t convinced he was anything more than a bounder. At any moment, it would become apparent this was all just a lark. All just a ruse to spend an afternoon in a young woman’s company.

  Wouldn’t it?

  “Oh,” Adam replied, his brows furrowing. “Well, given I cannot procure a special license today, what about the day after tomorrow?”

  Diana blinked. “Saturday?” She gave a quick thought as to what she might have had planned and finally allowed a grin. “Saturday would be... perfect.”

  Adam allowed a huge grin. “I shall pay a visit to the archbishop’s office on the morrow.” He suddenly frowned. “It will have to be after Parliament.” He considered some of the other tasks he would need to accomplish before they married and realized he really needed to be on his way. “Let me escort you to the coach. I’m sure you have much to do, too.”

  Although his manner was still friendly, Diana thought he seemed ready to dismiss her. This was it, then. He would put her into a hackney and make some excuse about needing to be somewhere else.

  Fighting the tears that threatened, she stood up and made her way through the confectioner’s shop, giving a nod to the waiter who opened the door. The Floris town coach was still parked at the curb, the driver immediately hopping down to open the door. She gave him a nod before climbing inside.

  “Back to Floris, my lord?” the driver queried.

  Adam regarded the man a moment before pulling a coin from his waistcoat pocket. “Could you take us to Warwick’s Grammar and Finishing School? And then take me to White’s?” he asked as he offered the driver the coin.

  At the sight of the blunt, the older man cock
ed an eyebrow. “For this, I would take you to Chiswick.”

  Adam allowed a chuckle. “You’re a good man.”

  The seat on which Adam had been sitting was covered in packages and bags, so it didn’t surprise Diana when he moved to sit beside her. It did surprise her that he was even in the coach.

  “I do hope you don’t mind,” he said as the driver shut the door. “I just... I wish to spend as much time as possible as close to you as I can,” he whispered as he took one of her hands in his. “I won’t see you again until...” He paused and frowned. “Well, I’ll have to see you tomorrow. To let you know about the arrangements for Saturday,” he reasoned.

  Diana’s soft inhalation of breath was barely audible. “I look forward to it,” she whispered, realizing she meant it.

  The ride to Glasshouse Street went faster than either of them expected, so it was a bit of a surprise when the coach suddenly came to a halt in front of one of the boarding houses for the school. When Adam made the move to get out before her, Diana pulled his arm back. “You cannot be seen escorting me,” she whispered, her head shaking. “At least, not yet,” she added when she paid witness to his look of confusion.

  Adam finally gave her a nod of understanding. “Then I shall kiss you here.” And before Diana could reply, his lips were on hers in a searing kiss that would leave no doubt as to what they had been doing during their last moments together. Not to anyone who would see Diana’s bee-stung lips and the high color on her cheeks.

  When Adam finally pulled away, he sighed. “Let me help you with these parcels at least,” he said as he gathered the boxes and bags. Once Diana was out of the coach, he draped the handles over her wrists and the boxes into her arms. “Sleep well, my sweeting.”