Falling for the Mysterious Viscount: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  The next moment, Lavinia rushed over, hugging them both.

  She was so very happy that she had finally made her decision. She was so happy that she felt like she could simply burst.

  “Well, girls,” said their mother, pulling back. “I sense a happy occasion!” She gazed steadily at Sophie. “You know why Mr St Clair has sought an audience with your father, and it makes you happy?”

  Sophie nodded, almost shyly. “Yes, Mama. I know why, and it does make me very happy.” She hesitated. “But will Papa give his approval, given Mr St Clair’s circumstances? I have not had a chance to discuss it with him, and he has no idea of how I feel on the matter …”

  Lady Beaumont sighed. “Your father only seeks your happiness, my dear. If he discerns that Mr St Clair has a sincere attachment to you, and you to him, then all the rest can be worked out.” She paused.

  “It has always been that way, Sophie. We want the best for you and your sister, of course, but we would never dictate such a serious life choice. Mr St Clair is an upstanding and fine young man. I am sure your dear Papa could not wish for a better man for his beloved eldest daughter.”

  Sophie blinked back tears. “Oh, Mama! It means so much to me to hear you say that!”

  “We are secure,” replied her mother in a surprised voice. “With our place in society, as well as our financial situation. We do not need you girls marrying for advancement if you do not sincerely esteem the gentleman. I thought that you knew that, my dear.”

  Sophie hugged her tightly again, obviously overwhelmed.

  Lavinia stepped back, observing her sister and her mother locked in a tight embrace. She had always told Sophie that her insistence on marrying for advancement was misplaced – that their parents, while outwardly playing the matrimonial game, did not really care about such things. That if they wanted to marry for love, their parents would not stand in their way.

  It had taken Sophie a long time to realise that, and almost cost her the love of a great man. A man who was destined to be her life partner. But all was well that ended well, when all was said and done. Her sister had finally realised that love really was worth the sacrifice, and she had discovered that truth in her own time, and in her own way.

  The door opened, and their father was standing there. He looked mildly surprised to see his wife and eldest daughter in such an emotional embrace.

  “Sophia,” he said, in a mock stern voice. “I have a young gentleman in my study, who is asking for your hand. I am rather inclined to give my permission, as he is rather intense, almost delirious with his desire to wed you, and claims he loves and admires you above any other lady.” He paused, a twinkle in his eye. “But as I have not heard you mention him to me, I must ask you if such a thing would be acceptable to you …”

  “Oh, Papa!” Sophie ran to him, her eyes bright. “Yes! Yes! I love and esteem Mr St Clair, above all others, and do desire more than life itself to become his wife.”

  Lord Beaumont looked taken aback. “I see. You have played your cards close to your chest with this one, have you not?” He paused. “I will return to the study and put him out of his misery, then. You can join us there, in ten minutes, so that we can finalise out the details. I am sure that Mr St Clair would like to see you alone, after the fact.”

  ***

  Lavinia sat in the parlour feeling at a loose end. Sophie had joined their father and Mr St Clair in the study, and their mother was in a flap, proudly rushing off to the kitchen to inform the staff that her eldest daughter had just become engaged.

  It had been a whirlwind. A most unexpected whirlwind. She had never envisioned, when she had woken up this morning, how this day would progress.

  Her sister had just become engaged. Her sister was to marry the man that she loved.

  She bit her lip, staring out the window, at the grand carriage that awaited Walter St Clair. A carriage far grander than she expected he would have, given his circumstances. Her eyes took in the proud white horses, stomping their hooves impatiently while they waited, and the glossy black exterior of the cab, made from the finest wood.

  Her eyes widened. There was a small crest at the front of the carriage. She strained to discern it. It was a hawk, with wings spread aloft. A scroll of gold lettering rested underneath the image, in Latin. A family motto?

  It was the crest of a nobleman.

  Suddenly, she realised. Of course the carriage didn’t belong to Walter St Clair. It was the carriage of the Viscount Pemberton. He had lent his carriage to his dear friend, to help secure this engagement. And she had no doubt that he had spent the money on Walter St Clair’s expensive new clothes for the same purpose.

  Her eyes filled with tears. He was a good man. A man who would do anything to help a dear friend. An honourable nobleman, of good character. It did not matter if he was a commoner or a nobleman, in the end.

  She had already decided to forgive him. But now, she fully realised that Walter St Clair had been telling the truth, in his letter. He had not exaggerated or distorted it for her benefit, to impress her, to turn her opinion around.

  It was a revelation.

  She stood up, her heart thumping. Sophie had almost missed her chance at love. She had almost let it slip through her fingers, through confusion and fear. It had been so very close. If Walter St Clair had not been so persistent, seeking her out to win her affection at every available opportunity, it could have gone in a different direction entirely.

  She must not miss her chance. She must not make the same mistake.

  The Viscount Pemberton was somewhere in London, right at this moment. He was probably waiting impatiently for the return of his friend, to find out what had happened here today. He would be so happy when he found out. But she knew that happiness would also be tinged with sadness because he would be thinking of her, and that he was never going to win her affection.

  Suddenly, she could not bear it, thinking of him so sad. She could not bear it, a moment longer. She simply must speak with him, so that they could finally talk honestly. So that they could finally speak freely, about everything that was in their hearts.

  She ran to the door, her heart beating. She would give Sophie and Walter St Clair a decent amount of time alone together. But then, there was something that she had to ask him before he left. Something that could not wait, any longer.

  But just as the thought slid into her mind, another carriage drew up outside the house. And she was shocked to see Lord Livingston step out of it.

  Chapter 28

  That night, as Lavinia sat in front of her dressing table mirror, while Franny brushed out her hair, she pondered the day’s tumultuous events. The dizzying speed with which things had changed, and all that had occurred.

  “You are quiet tonight, My Lady,” said Franny, pulling at her hair. “You must be pleased, I daresay, that your good sister has found happiness with the young man that came asking for her hand today.” She paused. “And what happened when the other gentleman came to the door …”

  Lavinia blanched. She still could not believe that while Walter St Clair was still here, after proposing to Sophie, Lord Livingston had come to ask for her own hand.

  She had only herself to blame, of course. She had encouraged him. And she had been so mortified, and confused by it all, that she had simply said that she must have time to think on it.

  She stared at the maid. “Do you have a beau, Franny, or a young man that you are sweet on?”

  The maid rolled her eyes. “Not likely, My Lady! All the young men I know are not worth the time or the effort. No, I will keep myself to myself until I meet someone who knows how to take care of me and any young ones we might have.”

  Lavinia frowned. “But what about love, Franny? Are you not waiting for someone to fall in love with, rather than just be able to provide for you?”

  The maid tightened her lips. “That is a luxury I cannot afford,” she said tartly. “In my world, miss, love leads to poverty if you make the wrong choice in a man, based on t
hat alone. Besides, feelings change, don’t they? No, I would rather have a man who I know can support me.”

  Lavinia was silent, pondering the maid’s words. It was true, she guessed, that someone in Franny’s situation might not be romantic about such things, but she knew that people fell in love from all walks of life and often did not care if they did not know where their next meal was coming from, as long as they were together.

  She didn’t have to worry about things like that, nor did Sophie. Her sister’s situation might not be as salubrious with Walter St Clair as with a wealthier man, but her sister would never starve. There would always be food on the table and clothes to wear. They were lucky that they had the freedom to make that choice, although Sophie had agonised about it, nonetheless.

  There was a soft knock on the door, and there was Sophie, in her white nightdress, her long nut-brown hair hanging in a plait over one shoulder. She was smiling, her face radiant with happiness.

  “Shall we talk, dearest?” she asked, in a quiet voice. “I feel I simply must speak about the day, or surely go mad!”

  Lavinia laughed. “Of course. I have been expecting you.”

  After Franny had left, they climbed into the large four-poster bed, turning to each other. Lavinia’s eyes filled with tears as she gazed at her sister.

  “I suppose we will not be able to do this for much longer,” she said, in a small voice. “After you are a married woman, we shall not even be living in the same house anymore.”

  She swallowed a sudden lump that had formed in her throat, at the thought. She was only just contemplating it, that she was about to lose her sister. She wanted her to be happy, and to marry Walter St Clair, but it was tinged with sadness, too. Everything was about to change; their lives would never be the same again.

  “Of course we shall do it,” said Sophie firmly. “You will come and stay with us, all the time, and I will come and visit you to talk like this …”

  Lavinia smiled wistfully. She knew that it wasn’t going to happen like that. As soon as Sophie was married, her priorities would shift, as they must, to her new husband. They would be each other’s confidante and rock. It was natural. It was just the way of things.

  “Let us not speak of it,” said Lavinia, shaking her head. “I do not want to feel sad! Not today, which has been such a happy day. Tell me everything, Sophie. Tell me what he said to you when you were alone, at last.”

  Sophie’s eyes filled with tears.

  “It was beautiful, little swan,” she said quietly. “As soon as Papa had left, he turned to me, gazing at me. He told me I was the most beautiful woman that he had ever encountered, and that I surely must know that he loved and admired me with all his being.” She paused. “And then, he got down on one knee, and asked me to be his wife …”

  “How romantic,” breathed Lavinia, her eyes shining.

  Sophie nodded. “It was the most wonderful moment of my life. I said yes, of course, and he told me that he would always love and protect me, to his dying day. He told me that he did not deserve me, but that he would endeavour to deserve my love, every day of his life.”

  Lavinia blinked back tears, too. “He is an honourable man, Sophie. I always knew that he was.”

  Sophie nodded again. “Yes, he is, Liv. And it is thanks to you that this marvellous man is about to become my husband and make me the happiest woman in the world.”

  Lavinia waved a hand dismissively. “I am no matchmaker, sister! I merely tried to steer you in the direction you were always meant to go in, that is all.”

  “There is a secret, too,” continued Sophie, lowering her voice. “In order to win my hand, he said that he was promised a large allowance, with which he would support me in the custom that I am used to.” She paused. “Papa rejected it, saying that it was not necessary. I told him it wasn’t, either. I am fully committed to marrying him exactly as he is. But you know who offered him that allowance, don’t you?”

  Lavinia blinked back her tears again. “I can guess. It was the Viscount, wasn’t it?”

  Sophie nodded solemnly. “If you need any more proof that he is truly a good man, you have it now, Liv. To make such a noble, generous offer to a friend, so he could secure my hand, is beyond what any man would be expected to do.”

  Lavinia bit her lip. She had not had a chance to talk to Walter St Clair, as she had resolved to do. To speak to him about the Viscount and possibly arrange a rendezvous with him, so that she could tell him at last what she truly felt. To tell him that she had changed her mind about him.

  Lord Livingston had shown up with an offer of his own, and all of it had gone out the window, in the blink of an eye.

  She was so confused, she just did not know what to do, anymore.

  “What is wrong, Liv?” asked Sophie, staring at her with concern. “Is it Lord Livingston? I thought you would refuse him outright, considering what we had just discussed before Walter got here.”

  She took a deep breath. “He is a good man, Sophie. A very good man. And I feel that I have encouraged him.” She paused. “How can I refuse him?”

  Sophie looked at her sternly. “Have we swapped roles, little swan? How is it that you are asking me this? You are the one who has always said that we should not do what convention dictates if it goes against one’s heart.” Her face softened. “You do not love Lord Livingston. You know that you do not.”

  Lavinia nodded slowly. She felt so very ashamed of herself that she must disappoint a good man. That she must refuse him. But even if she never found Samuel, she knew now that she could not go through with it.

  “You are right,” she said, in a steady voice. “I will go and see him tomorrow and tell him in person. That is the most honourable way.” She paused. “But what can I do about Samuel, Sophie? He thinks that I despise him, after what happened at that ball with Miss Munro. He will not risk coming here to boldly propose like Mr St Clair did. How can I let him know about my change of heart?”

  Sophie blinked. “I do not know. I did not discuss it with Walter. We were rather distracted with our own happiness.” She hesitated. “He did tell me that he is intending to leave London in a few days. He has been away from home for long enough, and he needs to start preparing for my arrival in his home, after we have married. And the Viscount is leaving for his own home in Nottinghamshire, as well.”

  Lavinia stared at her in dismay. “He is leaving London, in a matter of days?”

  Sophie nodded miserably. “Yes. I am so sorry, Liv. We only touched on the matter in passing, as we were so preoccupied.” She bit her lip. “I should have said something about your change of heart. I should have said that you would be receptive to a visit …”

  Lavinia took her hand reassuringly, but inside, she was faint with distress. How could this be happening, when she had finally made up her mind, that she forgave him, and that she was open to his love?

  He had stayed in London hoping to win her over, to win her love. But she had rejected him, twice over. He had done everything he possibly could to help his friend win Sophie’s hand, and now he was intending to leave, believing that all hope was lost.

  “Did Mr St Clair mention where he and the Viscount are lodging?” she asked quickly.

  Sophie shook her head. “No, we did not discuss it. It did not even occur to me to ask …”

  Lavinia’s heart plummeted. There was no chance of calling on him, then, before he left London, if she did not even know where he was residing. And while there was still a chance she might run into him at a social event before he left, it was not a sure thing. There were many events, after all. She could not rely on that.

  “Wait,” she said, suddenly, her eyes alight. “He is a viscount, is he not?”