A Viscount's Second Chance

by Joyce Alec

  “You can try as hard as you like to find a way out, my dear,” he continued, as if able to read her thoughts. “But I can assure you that there is none.”

  Trying to keep her head, Eleanor gripped the arms of her chair and settled her gaze on the odious man. “I do not understand why you are so desperate to wed me, Lord Thornley. Surely a marriage by force cannot be a happy one?”

  He chuckled, and the hairs on the back of Eleanor’s neck rose. “It shall be a happy one for me, my dear. Our wedding day will bring me great fortune.”

  “So that is it,” Eleanor replied, disdainfully. “You have no wealth of your own, so you wish to claim mine.”

  Thornley shrugged, evidently uncaring. “I enjoy the card table but, as you will no doubt hear, I am not particularly well favored by luck. Unfortunately, that means that any ladies of substance—in particular, heiresses—refuse to even acknowledge me. Thus, I am driven to seek another way to restore my fortunes.”

  His smile was disagreeable, and Eleanor felt her very soul shake within her. She could not see a way out.

  Miss Wiltshire shook her head, her voice shrill. “You are a degenerate gambler and have lost the wealth you have. No wonder you can find no one to wed you.”

  Thornley reacted at once, getting to his feet and grasping Miss Wiltshire by the arm so forcefully that she was lifted bodily out of her chair.

  “I do not want to hear another word from your mouth,” he hissed, as he dragged her to the opposite end of the room. “You forget that you will soon be favored by my kindness and my kindness alone.”

  “After you have used me to get what you want,” Miss Wiltshire said, her voice a little unsteady as Thornley released her arm.

  “Precisely,” Thornley retorted, bringing his face close to hers. “Now remain here whilst I continue to speak to my betrothed.”

  Eleanor could not help but tremble, seeing Miss Wiltshire’s face paling as Thornley returned to his seat. She shook her head at Eleanor as if to say she was quite all right and not to continue to frustrate Lord Thornley, but Eleanor did not know what else to do. She gazed over Lord Thornley’s shoulder, seeing a slight movement at the door. Lord Armitage appeared, his shoulder and head visible only as he looked over at her. His gaze was steady, although his jaw was set. Just looking at him gave her strength, and slowly, Eleanor’s trembling diminished. She saw his eyes search for Miss Wiltshire, and, out of the corner of her eye, saw Miss Wiltshire give a tiny shake of her head, warning him not to enter. How brave she was.

  “Now,” Lord Thornley continued, firmly, his face now red with anger. “The banns are to be called this week and then two weeks hence. I shall make all the arrangements.”

  “I do not agree,” Eleanor whispered, her vision blurring with a sudden sheen of tears which she blinked back hastily. “I will not marry you, Lord Thornley.”

  There was a brief pause.

  “Yes, you will,” he replied, his voice dangerously low. “You know what I will do if you continue to refuse.” His eyes glanced over at Miss Wiltshire, who was staring back at him in utter defiance. “So, the banns are to be called this Sunday hence. I shall make an announcement in the paper tomorrow so that society shall know of our betrothal. They shall think me quite the brave soul, considering marrying a lady whose companion is nothing more than a common thief.” His eyes took on something of wistful look, his mouth curving into a cruel smile. “How fortunate I am that Lord Armitage was so willing to take on my bet. Who knew that it would lead to this?”

  Eleanor’s blood ran cold, her entire body frozen in place as he reached for her hand, kissing it firmly. He lingered there for a long moment, looking over her as though she was a prize he knew he had already won. She refused to look at him, her hand dropping back into her lap as her skin prickled with fear. His gaze ran over her again and again until, finally, he appeared to have had enough.

  “Indeed, I shall have a great deal of fun being married to you,” he murmured, stepping away. “Prepare yourself, Lady Brooke. I have no intention of dying so soon after our wedding, as your first husband did. I believe I shall live a long life, and you shall be by my side almost every minute of it.”

  Eleanor did not see him leave, nor hear the door close behind him. She felt as though she was spinning completely out of control, unable to stop herself from being used by Lord Thornley in whatever way he chose. A loud roar seemed to encircle her as invisible chains tightened around her chest. Once they were married, she would be, by law, his property, and he could treat her as he chose. The thought scared her more than anything.

  Her hands were being chafed by two warm ones, and slowly, the buzzing in her ears decreased until she finally looked down at Lord Armitage, who was kneeling before her and gazing into her eyes with concern. Miss Wiltshire was standing next to him, murmuring quiet, soothing words.

  An idea, albeit a ridiculous one, hit her full force.

  “Lord Armitage,” she whispered, grasping his hands. “You must marry me.”

  His hands loosened on hers, his expression shocked.

  “It is the only way!” she exclaimed, looking up at Miss Wiltshire and seeing the astonishment on her face. “You must marry me, Lord Armitage. Before Lord Thornley does.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Lord Armitage is here.”

  Eleanor rose at once, quickly tying her bonnet under her chin. It had been three days since her request to Lord Armitage, and, as yet, he had not given her an answer. He had declared that she was too overcome with shock to think clearly, although he had promised, at the very least, to consider the idea.

  Miss Wiltshire shooed her out of the room, hurrying Eleanor along. At the very least, Miss Wiltshire had not thought the idea too preposterous, although she had not entirely agreed with Eleanor’s plan. She had been quite put out for at least half an hour, after Lord Thornley had left, evidently more angry and upset than she was afraid. Eleanor was greatly in awe of Miss Wiltshire.

  However, she thought that there might yet be another way to put Lord Thornley on the back foot, although, she confessed, she could not think of anything particular.

  “Mayhap when I return, I shall be betrothed,” Eleanor murmured, kissing Miss Wiltshire’s cheek.

  “You are already betrothed,” Miss Wiltshire replied drily. “Or did you not read the papers this morning?”

  Eleanor rolled her eyes and chuckled, glad that at least Miss Wiltshire could find some humor in the situation. “You know very well what I mean.”

  Miss Wiltshire smiled. “I do, but remember that you do not know Lord Armitage particularly well either. Take care, my dear, that you do not rush into something hasty.”

  Aware that Miss Wiltshire’s advice was always well thought out, Eleanor nodded solemnly and promised she would be careful before walking to the front door.

  Lord Armitage was standing waiting for her, although he seemed not to hear her approach, his eyes roving over the paintings in the hallway. It gave her a moment or two to study him, thinking to herself that he did cut quite a handsome figure. His light brown hair was neat, his outfit impeccable. He gave the impression of being quite the gentleman, and Eleanor felt a swirl of warmth in her belly.

  “Ah, Lady Brooke,” Lord Armitage exclaimed, his cheeks taking on a faint tinge of color as he realized he had not seen her approach. “I was just taking in the paintings you have displayed here. They are quite wonderful.”

  “My late husband’s taste,” Eleanor explained, smiling. “I do not know much about art, I confess, although I attempt to paint watercolors from time to time.”

  His green eyes turned back to hers, and Eleanor saw a warmth that she had not expected. Her smile grew as he offered her his arm and, taking it, they exited the house and walked down the steps to begin their walk.

  “Hyde Park is some distance away,” he said, after a moment. “Although perhaps it might be best if we continued our walk along the streets, given the hour.”

  Knowing he was talking about the fashiona
ble hour, Eleanor agreed at once. “Yes, of course. There are some shops nearby, and I do love to browse the bookshop when I have the time.”

  His smile was immediate. “In truth, Lady Brooke, so do I. I should be delighted to take you there.”

  “I just hope Lord Thornley does not see us,” Eleanor said, softly. “His anger and vehemence can be quite frightening.”

  She felt Lord Armitage’s arm tense under her hand.

  “I never did ask you what he had done to hurt you,” he said, quietly. “Your arm, I believe?”

  Eleanor felt her face burn, for she had hoped he had forgotten about that. “It was only some bruises, Lord Armitage. Lord Thornley simply did not want me to leave his presence on the night of the ball.”

  “He should not have laid a finger on you,” Lord Armitage replied, his voice harsh. “Nor on Miss Wiltshire. It is quite despicable that he would do such a thing.”

  “Then are you considering my proposal?” Eleanor asked, looking up at him. “Or have you thought of another way out?”

  He paused in his steps and turned so that he might see her better. His expression was serious, his eyes grave, and Eleanor felt her heart sink into her toes. He was about to refuse her; she could tell.

  “I have considered it,” he said slowly, “and I must confess that, whilst I am more than willing to do what you ask, I am not sure that you would thank me for it.”

  “Oh, but I would!” Eleanor exclaimed, putting her hand on his arm. “You would be forever saving me from Lord Thornley.”

  “But you know very little about me,” Lord Armitage protested. “I might be as bad as he, on closer acquaintance.”

  Eleanor shook her head, knowing that he could not be anything like the man. “I do not believe it, Lord Armitage. You are nothing like Lord Thornley.”

  “Even with my past behavior?”

  Nodding, Eleanor put her hand on his arm. “I understand that everyone makes mistakes, Lord Armitage.”

  “And I have wronged you already,” he replied, as though attempting to put her off the idea. “Had I not entered into this bet, then Lord Thornley would not have sought you.” Shame crept into his features, his gaze averted from her.

  Eleanor moved closer, ignoring those who passed by them in the street. “Lord Armitage, you are quite right that you bear some responsibility, but a man who is sorry for what he has done always seeks to make amends—just as you are doing. You have shown me that you are truly repentant and that you are willing to do anything you can to help myself and Miss Wiltshire. I cannot ask for more. I trust you, truly. I know you would make a fine husband, should you but accept.”

  “I want to accept,” he replied, with a sudden fervor. “I have been dreaming of this for so long, but now to have it set before me in such a way…” He trailed off and turned away, beginning to resume his walk.

  Eleanor stood for a moment, entirely stunned by what he had just, inadvertently, revealed. He had been dreaming of marrying her for a long time? For how long? It could not be the few weeks she had been in town, for that was barely long enough to make an acquaintance. So what was it he was speaking of?

  Hurrying her steps to catch him, Eleanor saw him stop at the doorway to a shop, holding it open for her. Seeing it was a bookshop, she stepped inside, but refused to be put off from her questions. If that was what he hoped to achieve in taking her in here, he was about to be disappointed.

  Grasping his arm, Eleanor walked purposefully through the shelves and tables filled with books, finding a quiet corner where she might be able to speak to him. Lord Armitage came without comment, evidently aware that he was not going to get away without explaining what he had meant.

  Eleanor felt her breath catch in her chest as she studied him, seeing his suddenly awkward expression. What was it that he was hiding from her?

  “You said you have been dreaming of marrying me for some time,” she began, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “What did you mean by that? Our acquaintance has been only of a short duration.”

  He shook his head. “It was a slip of the tongue only. Please, let us forget about it; it is of no consequence.”

  Boldly, Eleanor put one gloved hand on his chest, her gaze steady. “I wish to know the truth, Lord Armitage.”

  He sighed heavily, briefly closing his eyes. Eleanor waited patiently for him to speak, completely determined to get the truth from him.

  “You are quite right when you say our acquaintance has been of a short duration, but you perhaps do not recall seeing me prior to your return to London.”

  Heat rippled up her neck. “I have met you before?”

  “We were never introduced,” he said. “And you were not Lady Brooke then. I had every intention of being introduced to you, but my…my regard for you held me back.”

  He looked away, the stumble in his words telling her everything. He had some kind of affection for her from long before but had never had the courage to speak to her.

  “I have always been something of a quiet man,” he continued, still unable to look at her. “I was unnoticed by you, of course, which I do not hold against you by any means. However, when your engagement was announced, I left that shy man behind and did something quite rash.”

  Eleanor gasped her hand at her mouth.

  Lord Armitage shook his head. “I can see that you understand what I mean. I am sorry for what I did, of course, but I was angry and frustrated with my own lack of action. When Lord Thornley told me that it was you who was the one he intended as his bride, I could not help but try to stop him.” His eyes met hers, his expression somewhat relieved. “And now you know all, Lady Brooke. I am sorry for my part in your troubles.”

  Eleanor did not know what to say, the shock of what he had confessed freezing her limbs in place. Lord Armitage had held her in such a great affection for so long? It was almost unbelievable.

  Without knowing exactly what she was doing, Eleanor gave in to the urge she felt and, standing on tiptoe, pressed her mouth to his. Heat seared her at once, but Lord Armitage pulled back almost immediately, his eyes wide as he stared down at her.

  She continued to look at him for another moment, before his mouth came back to hers once more, no longer held back. His arms encircled her waist, as her own came to rest on his shoulders. There was something sweet in their kiss, feeling a sudden passion that she had never experienced before.

  He broke it after a few more moments had passed, although his arms did not release her from his embrace. She smiled as he blinked furiously, clearly trying to work out whether what had occurred had, in fact, truly occurred.

  “I believe you shall have to marry me now, Lord Armitage,” she said, softly, stepping back from him.

  A quiet chuckle came from him, his mouth finally curving into a smile. “I shall do my very best to be the kind of husband you deserve, Lady Brooke.”

  “Eleanor, please.”

  He gave her a half bow, his eyes alight with happiness. “Then you must call me Henry.”

  Eleanor could not help but smile, even though butterflies filled her stomach. Finally, she could see a way through the dark cloud that had settled around her ever since Lord Thornley’s appearance in her life. There was a chance for love in her marriage, a chance for a family and for all she had ever hoped for.

  “However, I cannot wed you, not when the banns are already being called.”

  “Then we shall elope,” Eleanor replied, quickly. “Scotland is far away, but I would rather suffer a horrible few days in a carriage as opposed to standing up in church beside Thornley.”

  He nodded, but his expression was still grave. “However, none of this brings Miss Wiltshire’s name into the clear. You might very well be saved from his grasp, but that does mean that Miss Wiltshire will continue to be regarded as a thief.”

  “Oh.” Eleanor’s happiness evaporated in a moment. “I had not thought of that.”

  Shame filled her as she realized how caught up she had been with her own difficulties, somehow
managing to forget about Miss Wiltshire’s predicament.

  “I have a suggestion,” Lord Armitage continued, making a sudden hope spark in her chest. “You must continue with the charade of going along with Thornley’s suggestion.”

  “What?” Eleanor gasped, her entire being recoiling at the idea. “You cannot be serious.”

  “I am,” he said with a slight smile. “Perhaps, it might even be best if you were to appear quietly acquiescing, so that he is not in the least bit suspicious when you search for the jewel.”

  Eleanor stared at him for a moment, confusion on her face. “Search for the jewel?” she repeated, still struggling to understand. “What can you mean?”

  Henry sighed, his lips thinning. “As much as I hate to say it, I believe the only way to clear Miss Wiltshire’s name from the theft of the jewel is to find it and, somehow, reveal to the rest of polite society that it was, in fact, him who took it from Lord Valliant.”

  “And I have to be the one to find it?” Eleanor continued, slowly, the idea already taking hold. “But then that will remove the need for me to marry if we are successful.”

  To her surprise, she felt a sudden spiral of disappointment at the idea and struggled to keep her emotions from showing on her face.

  Henry cleared his throat, looking a little self-conscious. “Perhaps I should be hoping that we do not find the jewel, then,” he commented with a wry smile. “Although, should we be successful, I will leave the decision about the future entirely in your hands. Now that I have laid bare my heart, I shall can no longer hide what I truly feel, nor do I want to. However, should you decide to remain unattached, as you currently are, then I shall accept your decision.”

  “It is not a decision I need to make now,” Eleanor replied quickly, aware of how he was looking at her, a desperate hope shining in his eyes. “The most important thing is to find that ruby and clear Miss Wiltshire’s name.”

  He nodded. “Quite.” He smiled at her and touched her hand. “Shall we browse for a while? Or should you like to return?”

  “I think I should like to browse,” Eleanor said, feeling a lot more settled and contented than she had before. “Thank you, Henry. You have been most kind.”