Falling for the Mysterious Viscount: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  Sophie nodded, frowning. “Yes …”

  “Then he would have a London residence,” she said excitedly. “All noblemen do, after all, and we were told, right at the beginning of the season, that he is a catch – extremely wealthy, as well as titled. All we have to do is find out where that is …”

  Sophie smiled. “Yes! I do believe that you are correct. He must have a London residence. We can ask Papa or Mama. Surely one of them will know or be aware of someone who does know.” She paused. “Are you planning on visiting him, then? A surprise visit?”

  A slow smile spread across Lavinia’s face. “Yes, I do believe that is what I am intending, Sophie. I think that we should both pay a surprise visit on the viscount. You can see Mr St Clair again, and I can finally say what I need to say.”

  Sophie squealed with delight. “Oh, it is perfect, Liv!” But then, her smile faded a little. “But what if we cannot find out his address? What if none of our friends or acquaintances know?”

  Lavinia took a deep breath. “Someone is bound to know.” She paused. “We must get onto it, first thing in the morning. We only have a matter of days, after all, before he departs the city.”

  She smiled, but she did not feel confident, at all. It might be like looking for a needle in a haystack, and time was not on her side, anymore.

  She swallowed back tears again. If he left London, she would probably never see him again. Nottinghamshire was a long way from the Cotswolds, and there would be no occasion where they would bump into each other in a social setting.

  And it would be another year before the next London season. A whole year in which anything might happen. He might decide to move on with his life, to try to forget her. He could meet someone else and already be engaged by then. A year was a lifetime, and he thought that she despised him. He would have no cause to wait for her.

  She quivered inside. Was she about to lose him before she had even told him how much she loved him?

  ***

  The grand townhouse, on a wide tree-lined street in Mayfair looked tall and foreboding as Lavinia stared out of it from the carriage window. Within minutes, the carriage had drawn to a halt in front. It was time.

  Taking a deep breath, she turned to Sophie, who was sitting beside her in the carriage. Her sister was wide-eyed, as well, gazing at the house a tad fearfully. Lavinia felt butterflies spring to life in her stomach, causing her hand to tremble as she placed it on the carriage door handle.

  They had just come from Lord Livingston’s townhouse, where she had spoken to him, for half an hour. He had been disappointed when she had told him that she must refuse his offer, but he had accepted her decision gracefully. She felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

  And now, she could do this with a clear conscience.

  “I am resolved to do this,” she said, in a quiet voice. “But now that we are here, I am uncertain.” She bit her lip. “What if he does not wish to see me, anymore?”

  Sophie gazed at her steadily. “That will not happen, Liv. You know how he feels about you, and those feelings are true. They will not change overnight.” She took a deep breath. “I am more concerned that we have gone to all this effort and he will not be at home …”

  Lavinia nodded. She had the same concerns, herself.

  They had gone to a lot of effort to find out where the Viscount Pemberton resided when in London. Neither of their parents knew, and it had taken two days of questioning various acquaintances to finally procure this address.

  Frustration had been her constant companion. He was leaving London, in a matter of days, and if she did not find out where he resided, then all was lost. He would leave, and she might never have the opportunity to see him again.

  His country residence was not in the same part of the country as where Walter St Clair lived; it wasn’t as if she could accompany Sophie to see her fiancé, in Somerset and bump into him there, either.

  Finally, Mrs Elliot had known the address. Lavinia had been elated, planning the visit within a matter of hours. Her mother had been mystified as to why they needed the carriage immediately, but Sophie had stepped in, claiming that they wanted to spend the morning shopping for bonnets on Bond Street.

  And now, they were here, at long last.

  Her hand hovered on the carriage door handle. So many things could go wrong doing this. They were not expected. The viscount might not be home. And then another, more alarming concern entered her mind.

  What if she had got it all wrong? What if he had already decided she was not worth the effort, any longer, and sought solace with Miss Emily Munro? She knew that the other lady had designs on him. It was why she was always so contemptuous and interfering. Miss Munro had deliberately decided to intervene that night at the ball; she could have walked past them, when she saw they were talking privately.

  It was the action of a possessive woman, who wanted to interfere. But was it also the action of a woman who had been promised something and felt it was her right to do so?

  Doubts assailed her once more. She did not know what the Viscount’s true relationship with Miss Munro was. She was trusting that his words of love to her were real; that he did not say them to all the young ladies. How did she know that he hadn’t said the same thing to Miss Munro? Perhaps he was trying his hand everywhere.

  “Liv?” Sophie’s voice was gentle. “Are we going to call, or not?”

  Lavinia gazed back at her sister. “I am having last minute doubts,” she admitted. “It is a risky thing, knocking on someone’s door without being expected and putting one’s heart on the table.”

  Sophie nodded. “It is risky,” she agreed. “But all is risk in the game of love. I know that if you do not do this, then you will always regret it, dearest. You will always be wondering if it might have been different, if only you had been brave enough to take the leap.”

  Lavinia took a deep breath. Sophie was right, of course, but that didn’t make it any easier. It didn’t make it any easier, at all.

  She gazed out the window at the grand townhouse. His London residence. It was impressive; far grander than their own. To think, she had once thought him a middle-class landowner of limited means, when in reality, he had everything that a gentleman could want in this world.

  And yet, he had decided to play act at being a commoner because the weight of expectation of his role in life sat so heavily on his shoulders. Perhaps there was a shadow side to such wealth and privilege, one that she had never considered before.

  She turned to Sophie. “Let us do this, now, before I change my mind.”

  Without thinking any more, she turned the handle. The footman was there, taking her hand. Sophie followed her, and together they ascended the wide front steps to the heavy oak front door with gold brass handle.

  She took another deep breath, then rapped sharply on the door. Her heart was hammering in her chest.

  It seemed to take an age before it swung open. A butler stood there, his eyebrows raised enquiringly. “May I help you?”

  She took another deep breath. “Yes, I hope you can. I am here to see the Viscount Pemberton, if he is at home …”

  The butler’s eyebrows rose higher, almost reaching the top of his head. “I am afraid that is not possible, madam. The Viscount Pemberton is not in residence. He has not been in residence for the entire London season …”

  Lavinia gasped, swaying a little. Beside her, she heard Sophie’s sharp intake of breath and felt her sister gripping her arm tightly.

  She felt dizzy and almost faint.

  He wasn’t here. He hadn’t been here, for the entire season.

  Had she been deceived, yet again? Who was the man who claimed to be the Viscount Pemberton?

  Chapter 29

  Samuel wandered down the path leading to the docks, lost in thought. He wasn’t even seeing the river, nor all the life upon it, spilling over up the embankment: the food stalls, the endless parade of characters, that usually enthralled him.

  A part of him
mourned this, that he could not be present, at this moment. Later this afternoon, he was heading back to Nottinghamshire, at long last, and he would no longer see this. He would probably never walk this path again.

  He had only come here because he was pretending to be Samuel Hunter. Now that he was the Viscount Pemberton again, he would have no need to come back to the east side of the city. He would stay in his grand townhouse, on Mayfair, or more comfortable lodgings in the fashionable part of London.

  He took a deep breath. That was if he returned to London at all. This season had given him so much, but taken it all away again, as well. He didn’t know if he had the heart to ever return. It would always be a reminder of what he had almost won, but then lost.

  He put his hands in his pockets, walking with his head down. Walter was back at the Peacock Tavern, packing, for his return to Somerset. But it wasn’t a mournful exit from the city for his friend. Rather, it was a triumphant return to his home to prepare for when his new bride crossed its threshold.

  He smiled slightly, recalling when his friend had returned to the tavern, after his visit to the Beaumont residence.

  Samuel had been sitting in the bar at the tavern, awaiting his friend, peering out the window to see the moment his carriage rounded the bend. He had been so anxious he could barely keep still. He knew that all was riding on this one visit. If Sophie or her father rejected Walter, then there would be no second chance.

  At long last, he had glimpsed the carriage returning. Heart thumping, he had stood up, running out of the tavern.

  His friend was just stepping down from the carriage when he got to it, a little breathless. Walter had gazed at him for a long moment, his face impassive, almost impossible to read. Samuel’s heart had momentarily hit the ground.

  But then, his friend had smiled. A joyous smile that lit up his face from within. Samuel didn’t think he had ever seen such a smile on his friend’s face.

  “Well?” he had asked, breathlessly, “how did it go?”

  Walter’s smile had widened. “I am a new man,” he declared, his eyes shining. “Let us go inside, out of this wind, and I shall tell you all about it.”

  ***

  Once inside, they had ordered ales, sitting opposite each other at a table. Samuel had been bursting with questions, but he had waited until Polly had served them and retreated before he had turned to his friend.

  “You must tell me now,” he declared. “I do not think I can go a minute longer without knowing what happened …”

  Walter smiled again. “Yes. And I cannot wait to tell you.” He paused. “Her father accepted my offer, Samuel! I was so nervous I was stammering, but he is a great and kind man.” He paused. “He said that he must speak with his daughter first, to ascertain her feelings on the matter before he could respond. He left the room, to do so. They were the longest moments of my life …”

  Samuel gasped. “And she said she was receptive to your offer?”

  Walter nodded slowly. “I cannot believe it, but when Lord Beaumont returned, he said that his daughter was very desirous to wed me,” he said, in an incredulous voice. “We spoke more about the details of it. I put your offer of a generous monthly allowance on the table, to sweeten the deal, but to my astonishment, His Lordship said that it was not necessary.”

  Samuel looked stunned. “He rejected the allowance? I cannot believe it!”

  “I could not either,” said Walter, his eyes wide. “But His Lordship said that wealth was not the measure of a man, and that his daughter would become accustomed to her new living situation. He said that it would be good for her; that it would make her character.”

  Samuel shook his head. “This is way more than I ever hoped for, Walter. Lord Beaumont sounds like a man of exceptional character. I do not know many gentlemen who would have rejected such a deal for their daughter.” He paused. “But what about Sophie? Was she aware that such a deal had been put on the table, and that her father rejected it?”

  Walter nodded. “When we were at last alone, and I bent the knee to formally propose to her, we talked about it.” He took a deep breath. “She said that she was not interested in the allowance, either, and that she was glad her father had rejected it. She said that it had taken her a long time to accept that she loved me, just the way that I am, and that she had no need of wealth now.”

  Samuel had been flabbergasted. Walter had achieved everything that he wanted. Lord Beaumont had agreed to his offer, and Sophie had accepted it, as well. She had admitted, at long last, that she loved him. And all of it had happened without his aid.

  “So,” he had said, after a long moment. “You are about to become a married man, Walter. Your bachelor days are coming to an end.” He paused, almost overcome with emotion. “I am so very happy for you, my friend. You deserve this, and you have found a fine woman to share your life with.”

  Walter had nodded, his face luminous with joy. “I was pinching myself the whole way on the carriage ride back here,” he admitted. “I thought that I was surely dreaming and must wake up any minute.”

  Samuel laughed. “It is real, my friend! Believe it!” He hesitated. “I know that Lord Beaumont and his daughter did not require the monthly allowance, but I wonder if I could help your married life get off to a good start, with another offer?”

  Walter took a sip of his ale. “What do you mean? I must say, I am secretly relieved that they rejected it. I would have felt very guilty taking such a vast sum off you, even though you insisted you had no qualms about it …”

  Samuel nodded. “I know. It is in your nature. You are proud, as you should be.” He paused. “But what about if I purchased a bigger country estate for you … in Somerset, or Nottinghamshire, or anywhere in the country that you so desire? We could look around and find more land attached to it, which could then increase your income. I know that you have always wanted to earn a living from your land, but not had enough to make it viable. This way, you could work towards giving up law entirely, and live off the farming and tenant profits.”

  Walter looked stunned. “It could finally set me up … and Sophie could live in a house and an estate that she is accustomed to.” He hesitated. “It would be a dream come true, and I would not feel so guilty because an estate could be purchased for far less than the allowance you wanted to give me, and I would be making money from my own land, rather than your pocket.”

  Samuel grinned. “So, is that a yes?”

  Walter grinned, as well. “I do believe it is, my friend!”

  He held out his hand, and they shook heartily on the deal.

  They downed their ales to seal the deal. Polly returned to take the empty mugs, asking if they wanted any more.

  “Most definitely, Polly,” Samuel said, smiling. “Another round. We are celebrating!”

  The barmaid had smiled back. “And what is it you are celebrating, gents?”

  “My friend has just got engaged,” said Samuel, almost bursting with pride. “To a fine and beautiful lady.”

  “Congratulations,” cooed Polly, smiling warmly at Walter before whisking the mugs away, and leaving to get more.

  “I shall miss this place,” said Walter, his eyes shining with tears. “Rats, and all! I never thought that I would say that, but I shall. It shall always remind me of this time, when I wooed Sophie, and won her.”

  Samuel nodded, but his heart lurched with sudden sadness. Things had turned out swimmingly for Walter, in the end, but it had not gone so well for him.

  “Did you see her?” he asked softly, gazing at his friend. “Did you see Lavinia when you were at the house?”

  Walter shook his head slowly. “No, I didn’t. I think that I glimpsed her in an upstairs room when I first arrived, gazing out the window, but I did not speak to her.” He paused. “I’m sorry, Samuel. I should not be rabbiting on about my own good fortune, when you are sitting there, still with a broken heart …”