My Fair Viscount: (The Scandal Sheet Book 4)

by Michaels, Jess

  Rose opened it and his heart sank. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes bloodshot and her nose slightly swollen. She had been crying. His heart ached as he looked at her this way. Rose had been a pillar of strength from the first moment he met her. That had drawn him to her, along with all the other qualities that made her special and unique and wonderful.

  Now her guard was down and that pain beneath that façade was as deep and dangerous as his own. The one he had been able to share with only her.

  “Rose,” he said softly.

  She spun away, struggling to regain her emotions as she walked across the small chamber. “You ought not to be here, my lord. It’s wildly inappropriate. Your cousin—”

  “Is resting and will not interrupt us,” he said as she stepped into the chamber and closed the door. Latched it just in case someone came looking for them. And because he needed to be alone with her.

  “My lord—”

  “No, don’t,” he whispered. “David. We’re alone and it should be David.”

  She clenched her fists and bent her head with a shudder that felt like it moved from her to him. “It…it never should have been David,” she said at last, her voice trembling.

  “You regret what we shared?”

  She lifted her gaze. “No. No, I can’t do that, even if I should. But that time has passed. You know that. Your cousin is here and from our time in the parlor today, it’s obvious his plans are in motion. Our time, this stolen time, it’s over. The best thing both of us can do is to accept that. We must accept it.”

  For a wild moment, emotion welled up in him. He wanted to scream that he would not accept it, couldn’t. But he tamped it down, drew a long breath and stepped toward her. She tracked him, like prey watching a predator, but she didn’t move away as he caught her hand and drew her forward into his arms.

  She shuddered again and her hands came around to stroke his back gently, smoothing the muscles there as she had done so many times in pleasure, in comfort.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry about what my cousin said in the parlor. The idea that you would be asked to put together a list of eligible women for me to consider is—”

  She looked up at him. “Exactly what my job entails,” she said. He could hear her struggling to regain her composure. “David, I was hired to train you in comportment, to ease your way into Society. Probably there was always some thought in Mr. Shaw’s mind that my connection to good families could also be of value. The fact that he wishes to introduce you to some well-established young ladies says that he has faith in you.” Her breath caught. “I have faith in you.”

  “Even when I didn’t,” he murmured. He couldn’t help it. When he held her like this, when she was so closer that he could smell the faint honeysuckle of her skin, it was impossible not to want to touch her.

  He bent his head, she lifted up on her toes and their lips met. He had kissed her so many times since their arrangement began. Dozens, maybe even a hundred times. But this time felt…different. As she opened to him, there was a sadness, a desperation, a finality that stung like a whip lashed across the skin.

  He clutched her closer in response, driving his tongue deeper, cupping her hips and lifting her against him as if he could brand himself with her mark. As if he could join them in some physical way that could never be undone.

  She murmured pleasure against his lips, but then she pressed her hands to his chest and pushed. He staggered back, letting her go even though every part of him screamed that if he did, he would never touch her again.

  She stared at him, breath coming short, eyes wide and wild and filled with unshed tears.

  “We can’t,” she said, shaking her head. “Earlier today, when we made love, it was beautiful and perfect. Let’s let that be the last time, David. Let it be our farewell, not some desperate joining in my chamber where we try to be silent so your cousin doesn’t hear us.”

  “You think that if we are here together for another few days, a week, that I’ll be able to stay away from you?” he asked with a laugh that held no humor.

  Her eyes went soft, sad. “You…you won’t have to.”

  He stared at her, trying to understand what she meant, understanding it perfectly and not wanting to accept it. “Don’t,” he said.

  “I’m going to speak to your cousin as soon as I’m able and tell him that there is nothing else for me to teach you. That you are ready, for you are.”

  He opened his mouth, but she held up a hand. “Please let me finish. I’m going to ask him to allow me to return to London. You and he can finish up the fine tuning of your debut alone.”

  He knew she was right. That it would be best for both of them if she left now, if they let go of whatever they had built because they both knew it couldn’t last. And yet he felt an ache so painful that it nearly buckled his knees.

  He reached for her, catching her hand and lifting it to his heart. One of the tears she’d been holding back trickled from the corner of her eye and slid down her cheek, but she didn’t pull away. She didn’t run.

  “You are going to do wonderfully well, David. I know that. And our time will one day be what I hope is a happy memory for you. As it will be for me.” She reached up and traced his cheek, as if she were trying to memorize the lines as she watched him intently. Then she shook her head and pulled her hand away. “You should let me pack, my lord. And I will speak to your cousin shortly. Good—goodbye.”

  He swallowed as she moved to the wardrobe and withdrew a small portmanteau. She lifted it onto the bed, putting her back to him as she opened it and fussed with the bag’s handle a moment.

  He stepped backward, unlocking the door without looking at it. Staring at her so he would remember her. “Goodbye, Miss Higgins.”

  He turned before she could answer and left the room, shutting it gently behind himself. And as he stood in the hall, he leaned against the barrier, his heart throbbing and his eyes stinging. He knew in that moment he had lost something precious, even if it was something he hadn’t earned, something that was never his to begin with.

  Chapter 9

  David stared out the window, though he hardly saw the bustling London street. The carriages rushing by, the people in their finery, none of it meant anything. Nothing really had in the week since Rose had left the estate where they had met. Left him.

  “My lord? My lord? Cousin!”

  He jerked around at Richard’s sharp tone and found him staring, arms folded and eyes bright with concern.

  “I’m sorry,” David muttered. “I’ve been distracted and that is unfair to you, I know. You were saying something about the ball tonight. My long-awaited debut.”

  Richard wrinkled his brow and stepped to the sideboard. He ignored the tea service that had been placed there earlier and instead bent to retrieve a bottle of whisky and two glasses. As he poured, David stared, wide eyed.

  “It’s a bit early for that, isn’t it?” he asked as Richard handed him a glass and motioned to the seats beside the fire.

  Richard snorted as they settled in. “Well, now I know you truly are a gentleman. The man I found in the hells so many weeks ago would have taken the bottle, time of day be damned.”

  David smiled and set the glass aside without drinking. He was in no mood to soften his emotions. He wanted to feel them. Wallow in them, he supposed.

  “You’re not happy,” Richard said with a sigh.

  David blinked in surprise. Normally they did not broach such personal topics. The lack of intimacy Rose had once said would be required of him certainly had played out. But now his cousin stared at him with concern on his face.

  “I—”

  Richard lifted a hand to quiet him. “Don’t bother denying it, David. I have seen it since I came to you in Livingsworth a week ago. I hoped that a return to London would raise your spirits, but if anything it has been worse in the twenty-four hours we’ve been here. I hope that we are becoming friends—is there something I can do to help you?”

 
David stared at his cousin for a long moment. What in the world would Richard say if he explained the truth? Probably have an apoplexy right here in the parlor. Of course, the truth could hurt Rose, though. So he was not able to say it.

  “No,” David said, and now he did sweep up the drink and take a swig of it.

  Richard worried his lip. “Is it…is it your mother? I heard she arrived this morning and is settling in. Is that hard for her and for you? Are you worried about her adjusting to this new life?”

  David bent his head. Part of why he’d allowed this change was to offer his mother something better. To elevate her from the terrible place she had been forced to take after his father’s abandonment. And now she was here.

  “My mother’s arrival is the one pleasure,” David admitted. “I worry, of course. She has gone from…well, from something very far from a lady to what amounts to dowager overnight. She isn’t suited for it, just as I am not. And I know people will talk and be cruel. But we’ll find our place.” He shut his eyes briefly and there was an image of Rose, waiting for him. “We must. We’ve given up too much not to.”

  Richard cleared his throat. “It’s been a big change, I know. You’ve handled it all marvelously. And if you are nervous, at least tonight is your first appearance. It is here at last and then we’ll know better what our next steps are.”

  David almost laughed. Richard thought his melancholy was about nerves. In truth, he hardly thought of the ball. Perhaps that was Rose’s last gift. She loomed so large in his mind, every other concern seemed small and inconsequential.

  He glanced at his cousin. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Miss Higgins?”

  Richard wrinkled his brow, as if the question surprised him. “Not since she left Livingsworth last week, no. She received her final payment a few days later, as far as I know. Do you…are you interested in pursuing her list of potential mates? I can follow up on the matter if you’d like.”

  David’s stomach turned. “No. No, I think that would not be best.”

  Richard nodded slowly. “You will meet plenty of young ladies tonight, I’m sure. And certainly you’ll catch the eye of many.”

  “Thank you,” David said, because it was expected and Rose had taught him well. But in truth, he hardly could focus on the idea of catching the eye of ladies. Not when the only lady he wanted was the one he couldn’t have. And probably would never see again.

  He cleared his throat and tried to do the same for his mind. “Er, tell me again about our hosts tonight.”

  Richard smiled. “Originally, I hoped to debut you at the Rockford Ball, but I’ve arranged something even better. The Duke of Abernathe is an old friend,” he said. “He and his wife are powerful influencers of Society, and decent people who are not harsh in their judgment of others. Their ball is the perfect place for you to make your introduction, for you will have powerful allies there beyond me.”

  He droned on and David found himself drifting off, though he knew he should be attending. His future depended on it, after all. He had to make it work, if only to make his time with Rose worth more than a broken heart.

  Rose looked around the buzzing ballroom and tried to stifle the sigh that rose up in her chest. Despite her duties as teacher of all things Society-related, it was very rare that she got to be a part of their glittering halls. Normally when she was asked to play the role of companion, as she had been tonight when her former student’s aunt had become ill, she enjoyed the exercise. There was no better position to be in than the uninteresting chaperone. She could observe and enjoy without fear.

  But tonight as she stood in the middle of the ballroom, those far elevated above herself spinning and chatting and laughing around her, she felt…pain. Loss. This was David’s world now. And being here reminded her that she couldn’t ever be a part of it.

  “Oh, Miss Higgins,” said her charge, Lady Susannah, clasping her hand with a bounce of excitement. “The Abernathe ball is everything I could have dreamed of! Look at this house.”

  “It is very fine,” Rose agreed, trying to focus on the positives. She had very little choice, really. This was her life. She’d only played pretend with David for all those days and nights.

  “And the Duchess of Abernathe is a dream,” Lady Susannah continued with a happy smile. “So beautiful and sweet as can be, just as everyone says she is. She was very kind when she greeted me earlier.”

  Rose nodded. “I’ve heard nothing but good about Her Grace.”

  “But the most exciting thing about tonight is the rumor I heard when I went to get punch earlier.”

  Rose met her charge’s eye, pushed back into her role as teacher by the last statement. “Lady Susannah, do not forget our lessons on gossip.”

  Lady Susannah laughed. “Of course, Miss Higgins. I know your thoughts on the matter. But gossip is a cornerstone of Society, even you must admit that. And this news is too good not to share.”

  Rose shut her eyes briefly. “Well, it is better to share it discreetly with me, I suppose, than to spread it all over the ballroom. Out with it then.”

  “The Abernathes have invited Lord Shaw tonight!” Lady Susannah let out an excited giggle, oblivious to the fact that she had just shot Rose directly in the heart. She continued, “I have been waiting to see this man for weeks, since the news came out that he was to take the title. Everyone says he’s dashingly handsome. I cannot wait to see for myself what a man from the street is like when he is cleaned up. Do you think he will be man or beast?”

  Rose’s stomach turned and her vision blurred as she tried to smile and act normally. It was nearly impossible. She had never thought, not in a thousand years, that David would be here tonight. After all, this was the Abernathe ball! People finagled and worked hard to get their invitations from the popular duke and his bride. That this would be David’s debut was…wonderful for him. And also nerve-wracking.

  But beyond that, Rose would have to see him. It was crowded, yes. She could avoid him, yes. He’d never probably even know that she was here…but she knew he was going to be here now. She knew and there would be no way she could keep herself from seeking him out in the crowd just to look at him.

  And break her own heart all over again.

  “I say, are you well?” Lady Susannah asked, touching Rose’s elbow. “You are pale as paper.”

  “Yes,” Rose breathed. “Of course, just—”

  Before she could finish, the footman at the door announced, “The Viscount Shaw and Mr. Richard Shaw.”

  Rose nearly buckled as she and her charge both pivoted to see David walk into the room. He looked…impeccable. And devastatingly handsome in his formal attire. His bright blue eyes scanned the room, flicking from one person to the next, but he didn’t look nervous.

  He looked like he fit in, despite the bend to his nose and the small scar on his lip. He would fit in, for a well-heeled and rich man could be forgiven a great deal by those with power.

  The crowd was swelling forward, watching as the duke and duchess greeted their guest. David seemed at ease, the Duke of Abernathe even laughed at something he said. Then David disappeared into the crowd and was gone, at least for the moment, in the swell of his new admirers.

  Her heart continued to throb and Susannah looked at her with worry. “Gracious, Miss Higgins, shall I get someone?”

  Rose drew a few long breaths. “No, no. I’m simply overheated in the crush and excitement. I’ll go get some air on the terrace and rejoin you momentarily. Will you be well on your own?”

  Lady Susannah nodded. “Of course. I see my dear friend Camilla over there. I simply must talk to her about this viscount. I’m sure the ladies will be lining up to exhibit to him and I must find a way to be part of the fray. Don’t rush back, I’ll be fine.”

  Her chatty companion all but skipped away, and Rose pivoted and began to make her way through the crowd blindly. She had to get outside. She had to gather her senses before she did something that would hurt her reputation.

  Aft
er all, it was all she had left.

  David nodded, trying to remain focused on the words his companion was saying. He’d only been in the ballroom ten minutes and he was itching to get out of his skin. Oh, Abernathe seemed nice enough, interesting enough. Not at all the fop he had pictured when he was told the man was a duke.

  “I’ve heard you were once known as a pugilist in the underground,” Abernathe said.

  David nearly choked on his drink as he jerked his stare toward the duke. “I—er—well—”

  Abernathe chuckled. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable.”

  David shrugged. “I will likely be uncomfortable no matter what. I am struggling with how to respond properly to such an inquiry.”

  Abernathe’s expression softened a fraction. “You have already made a good impression, I assure you.”

  David hesitated. He shifted and let his gaze flit up into the crowd. They were watching him, of course, judging him, but with much less harshness than he had anticipated. If he had made a good impression on this powerful man, on anyone in the crowd, it was all due to the lessons he’d learned from Rose. She was the only reason he hadn’t been hissed out of the room.

  “I did do a bit of fighting, yes,” David said carefully.

  Abernathe smiled. “Well, I have a few friends, other dukes, who occasionally meet to spar when we’re in London. You should join us some time. I’ll send you the particulars if you’re interested. I’m sure you could teach us all a thing or two.”

  David wrinkled his brow in surprise. He hadn’t pictured a group of dukes sparring in a ring. That was interesting, to say the least. And how happy his cousin would be. Richard had gone on and on about how Abernathe and his club of dukes could make or break a man’s season.

  “I would like that.”

  “Excellent. Now I see my wife being held hostage by Lady Pettygrew. That woman could talk the ear off a goat and Emma is too kind to excuse herself. I hope we’ll talk again later tonight.”