A Viscount's Second Chance

by Joyce Alec

  Matthew shrugged. “Not much. I just decided to get a few breaths of fresh air.”

  "Ah ha!" Charles grinned, realizing Matthew's true intention. "You're trying to catch a glimpse of your mystery woman.”

  Matthew huffed for a moment, responding with a weak, “I most certainly am not.” Although, he could not quite look Charles in the face.

  “Who is this mystery lady?” Martha asked, looking from Charles to Matthew and back again.

  “We do not know,” Charles said with a smile. “All Matthew will tell me is that she has a mass of red curls and the most beautiful smile. Apart from that, we are at a loss.”

  “Oh!” Martha exclaimed. “Perhaps it may be Lady Suzanne.”

  She saw Lord Hoskins’s eyes spark with interest.

  “Does she have long auburn curls?”

  Martha nodded. “Truth be told, I have always been jealous of her ringlets. She is one of my dearest friends, although we have not seen each other as of late.”

  A wave of sadness hit her as she spoke, remembering how Suzanne had only been able to wave at her from across the ballroom.

  Lord Hoskins boomed, a grin spreading across his face as he said, “I have a plan. Let us meet here again tomorrow, perhaps during the fashionable hour? Is she likely to be here, Lady Martha?”

  Martha nodded.

  “She is? Excellent! If it is the lady in question, then you can make the introductions? Shall we say three o’clock?”

  Lord Hoskins bowed once more before swiftly taking his leave, muttering something about getting his boots polished.

  “I am sorry about that,” Charles replied, laughing a little. “The man is clearly besotted; although, he will not admit it.”

  Martha, her deep green eyes sparkling with amusement, smiled up at Charles, and at that moment, he once again thought about how beautiful Lady Martha was when there was joy in her expression. Instead of the terror that usually flooded him whenever he was in a beautiful woman’s presence, he felt confident, an unknown emotion filling him as he smiled back at her.

  “Lady Martha,” he breathed, the quietness of the park making him feel as though it was just the two of them at that moment. “You are breathtaking.”

  Martha, blinking furiously, absorbed his words with a little start of surprise. “I...I thank you,” she responded, her own voice quiet.

  She could not remember the last time someone had complimented her in such a way.

  Charles allowed his gaze to drop to Lady Martha’s lips, wishing he could run a finger over them. They looked so soft. His breath began to come a little faster as he took a small step nearer to her, standing so close that he could kiss her quite easily, should he want to. Did he want to? He wasn’t sure. Unlike so many of his peers, he had not once kissed a lady, having never had the opportunity. A warning flashed in his mind, realizing that should he kiss her, there would be an expectation that he would then court her. Was he ready for such a thing?

  Martha felt the loss the moment he stepped back, breaking the atmosphere like a stone on a frozen lake. She had wondered if he was about to kiss her, as she would have welcomed it, only for him to move away, reaching for her hand to tuck it under his arm once more. They walked in silence back to Martha’s townhouse, each struggling with their own thoughts.

  Charles bent over Lady Martha’s hand, kissing the back of her hand with gentle lips, lingering a moment too long—not over any awkwardness but rather from desire. Martha smiled at him as he stood, feeling a little self-conscious.

  “Until tomorrow, Lady Martha,” Charles said, still holding her hand.

  “Until tomorrow, Lord Green,” she replied, watching him take his leave. She did not see Gerald’s face at the window, scowling deeply as he too watched Lord Green walk down the street.

  Chapter 6

  Gerald glowered, his temper rising. He had not, for one moment, thought that Martha would be successful, assuming that his plentiful rumors would have dissuaded any respectable gentlemen. However, it now appeared that she had one potential suitor, and that was one too many. Gerald was determined to possess Martha’s parcel of land. He would simply have to work a little harder to ensure that whoever this man was, he would not pursue his stepsister any longer.

  Martha sat on her bed after ensuring the door to her room was securely locked. This was the one room in the house where Gerald could not get to her, and having put up with his snide and lurid remarks during dinner, she needed a place to escape him. Martha realized that he now knew about Lord Green, although she hoped that he had not yet discovered his name.

  She thought of Lord Green for a moment, remembering how his brown eyes had gazed, so deeply, into her own, and how he had pulled himself closer to her as they had stood, just the two of them, in the park. Her hopes had risen as she realized he felt an attraction to her, the same way she was beginning to feel drawn to him—despite his ungainliness. The man was a kindred spirit, mocked and ridiculed by society, just as she was.

  Two social outcasts, that's what they were, who, somehow, had found their way to each other. Whether she could ever love him was another matter, but that was not a concern for the moment. He was a kind man, open and honest, and she knew that he would make a good husband. She did not want to scare him away, but perhaps she needed to tell him the truth and hope he would understand. She needed to tell him about Gerald’s threats and have faith that, even if there was no immediate proposal, that he would somehow be able to protect her from Gerald’s cruel intentions. Nodding to herself, she prepared herself for bed with a fresh hope in her heart.

  ***

  “Whatever is the matter now, Charles?” Matthew asked, frustrated. “You’ve been moping around all evening.”

  “Nothing,” Charles replied, watching the whirling dancers. Whilst he’d agreed to attend Lady White’s ball, he could not get Lady Martha out of his thoughts.

  “It’s Lady Martha, isn’t it?” Matthew asked, reading his mind. “What, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for her?”

  “No,” Charles mumbled. “No, I don’t think so. Oh, I don’t know…” He turned and paced up and down the balcony, ignoring the music below. “She is a beautiful woman, Matthew, but this was never meant to be anything more than a simple friendship. A means to an end, if you will.”

  Matthew shrugged. “You’re a wealthy man, Charles, so her lack of a dowry shouldn’t matter a jot.”

  “Good heavens,” Charles said, running a hand through his hair. “Slow down, man. I’ve no intention of marrying the lady any time soon.”

  “Why ever not?” Matthew replied. “She is clearly happy with your company, and you like being in hers.”

  “Do you think so?” Charles asked, a little anxiously.

  “Of course. Martha went out walking with you, did she not? And is going out with you again tomorrow?”

  “Only at your request,” reminded Charles.

  “Nonsense. Had you asked her, I am quite sure she would have been more than happy to accompany you.”

  Charles resumed his pacing. “I suppose I had never truly considered matrimony. It seemed so unlikely, given my clumsy nature, that I would ever find a genteel lady who was willing to take me as a husband.”

  “Come now,” Matthew replied, a grin on his face. “There was Lady Edith, Lady Catherine, and Lady Amelia, from what I remember of last season!”

  Charles let out a shout of laughter. "Very well, very well, I should say that I thought I would never find a genteel lady who I thought would make a good wife, who would be willing to take me as a husband."

  He shuddered a little, remembering the way Lady Edith had squeezed his arm so encouragingly, her smile not quite managing to cover her rotten teeth.

  "Do you remember Lady Catherine?" Matthew asked, laughing at the thought. "She was quite desperate for you to marry her if I remember?"

  “Do not remind me,” Charles replied with a chuckle. “She would fawn all over me!”

  He felt clammy at the thought. He could not
forget the humiliation he had felt walking into his own drawing room to find the lady with one of his footmen. Both had been sent from his house instantly.

  Letting out a shout of laughter, Matthew turned to Charles, refusing to let him forget the last lady who had shown such an interest in him, “And Lady Amelia?”

  Charles shook his head.

  "I must confess to having been slightly taken with her."

  She had appeared to be a most eligible lady, and he had found her handsome enough to consider courting her.

  “Oh you must tell me the story, it has been so long since I last heard it,” Matthew cried, clearly in a jovial mood.

  Charles sighed, rolling his eyes. "Very well. We were at some picnic if I recall correctly, and she and I had managed to seclude ourselves a little from the other guests."

  “And you had tried to win her affections.”

  “I wanted to kiss her, if that’s what you mean,” Charles retorted. “Everything was going well, and we were becoming quite close. She was encouraging my attentions. She was not the most handsome of women, but I did desire to kiss her. Unfortunately, as I stepped forward to get closer to the lady, I tripped—goodness knows on what—and completely toppled the woman as we fell to the ground!”

  “Go on, go on!” Matthew exclaimed, knowing what was coming.

  "It was only then that I realized she had stuffed the top of her dress with handkerchiefs to look more buxom," Charles finished, feeling the urge to laugh despite the story. "The handkerchiefs were scattered about. I remember being on my hands and knees looking for them under the bushes and shrubs. I assume she was embarrassed, but I didn’t think it was right to walk away without trying to help her locate her belongings."

  Matthew, now doubled over, laughed long and hard. “She never spoke to you again, if I recall?” Matthew said eventually, trying to catch his breath.

  “Never,” Charles said, a little regretfully. “Although I don’t know what we would have said to each other. There is no way we could have ever had a civil conversation again without thinking about what transpired.”

  "True!" Matthew agreed, slapping his friend on the shoulder as they both leaned over to watch the dancers. "Charles," he said after a moment, suddenly serious. "If you truly like Lady Martha, and you believe her word that these rumors are nothing but a fabrication, then you should pursue her!"

  Charles thought carefully. There was no reason as to why he should not court Lady Martha or begin to consider the possibility of matrimony. He liked the lady, found her most attractive and, in addition, he seemed to lack the clumsiness that he associated with all the other women of his acquaintance.

  "I do not believe the rumors," he said, firmly, choosing, right then, to accept her word on the matter. "Lady Martha is a most genteel lady, and I cannot imagine that she would ever do any of the things that have been suggested of her."

  Charles remembered what she had said about her stepbrother, wondering for a moment whether he could be behind the vicious lies, but then dismissed the idea entirely. Mayhap Lady Martha and her stepbrother were finding it difficult to get along, but she was under his protection, and he was certain that any true gentleman would take that responsibility seriously.

  “Matthew,” he said, finally. “You are right. I like Lady Martha, and I intend to pursue an acquaintance with her. I shall make my intentions perfectly clear to her tomorrow.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Matthew smiled. “I, too, am looking forward to finding out if this friend of Lady Martha’s is indeed the mystery woman for whom I have been searching. Tomorrow could potentially be a good day for us both.”

  “I hope so,” Charles replied, feeling a sudden rush of nerves. “I truly hope so.”

  Chapter 7

  “Lord Green, you are right on time,” Martha took his offered arm, beaming up at him.

  Charles smiled at her. “May I say, Lady Martha, you are quite the vision today.” She really did look beautiful, he thought, her dark green walking dress complimenting her eyes perfectly.

  “I thank you,” she replied, squeezing his arm lightly. “How do you do, Lord Hoskins?”

  "Please, I insist you call me Matthew," he replied. "I am not vastly enamored with propriety and find my formal name much too restrictive. Besides, we are going to be fast friends, I am sure, particularly if this friend of yours turns out to be the lady I have been searching for."

  He winked, and Martha found herself laughing.

  “Very well, Matthew,” she responded, catching the twinkle in his eye. “I should be glad if you would both call me Martha.”

  Matthew nodded, smiled, and walked a few steps behind Martha and Charles, to give them some privacy.

  “Martha. It’s such a lovely name,” Charles responded.

  “Thank you, it was my mother’s,” she said softly, a look of sadness in her eyes. “She died when I was quite young.”

  “Did your father remarry soon after?” Charles asked as they began to stroll towards Hyde Park.

  She shook her head. “It was not until eight years later. The moment he laid eyes on Lady Crewe, I believe it was love at first sight.”

  “She was a good stepmother?”

  “Oh yes,” Martha replied. “She was very loving. Having been widowed herself, I believe she and father found an understanding between them, having both lost their marriage partners. They loved each other very much. I was devastated to lose them both.”

  There was silence for a moment as they walked, Martha struggling to compose herself as the pain over her parents’ deaths became fresh once more.

  “I am sorry you have experienced so much loss,” Charles said quietly, wishing he could wrap an arm around her shoulders.

  Martha looked up at him, her green eyes awash with tears. “I loved them both,” she said simply. “Life with my stepbrother has been quite difficult since their death. We got along well enough while our parents were alive, but their deaths changed him.”

  Charles stroked her hand with his own free one, not knowing what to say.

  “Lord Green, I –”

  “Charles,” he interrupted.

  "Very well," she said, with a gentle smile. "Charles, there is something I must tell you. It is about my stepbrother. I want to be honest with you and tell you everything, so that you know the truth."

  Puzzled, Charles stopped for a moment, turning to face her.

  “Of course, Martha. I am quite happy to listen to anything you have to say, so please, be frank with me.”

  Martha took a breath, not quite sure how to begin. “My stepbrother, Gerald, he –”

  “Is that her?”

  She was interrupted by the vastly excited Matthew, who came rushing over to them.

  “Is that her? Do you see her?”

  Matthew gestured openly, pointing towards a lady walking in the distance.

  “I’m afraid I cannot say,” Martha replied, hiding her grin. “Shall we walk together? I am sure our paths will cross quite soon.”

  Nodding, Matthew began to walk, leaving Charles and Martha behind him as they struggled to keep up with his fast pace.

  "I believe it is her, Matthew," Martha said suddenly, recognizing her friend's features. "Although I cannot say I recognize who her companion is."

  “It’s Lord Deveraux,” Matthew responded, his dislike of the man was clearly evident. “But that is your friend, Martha? You are sure?”

  “I am certain,” she said, laughing a little. “Shall I introduce you?”

  Thrilled that he had found the mystery woman, Matthew beamed at Martha.

  “I should be ever in your debt, Martha.”

  Chuckling, Martha saw Suzanne’s face light with recognition, and she ran to embrace her friend. Lord Deveraux continued on to meet Matthew and Charles, before spotting some other gentleman that he wanted to greet.

  “Suzanne, it is so good to see you.”

  "You must forgive me, Martha. Mama has got it in her head that you are quite ruined, even though I to
ld her such rumors are fabricated."

  “I cannot blame her,” Martha replied. “Gerald has been quite cruel.”

  “He still wishes for you to sign over your property?” Suzanne dropped her voice as the gentlemen approached.

  Martha nodded and quietly whispered, “I must find a suitable husband before my twenty-fifth birthday, or he will force me to live in the streets. I am absolutely certain he will do so; his threats have become much more severe of late.”

  “Whatever shall you do?” Suzanne asked, her eyes filled with alarm.

  “Well, I really don’t know, Suzanne.” Martha smiled, seeing Charles and Matthew approach. “May I introduce Lord Green and Lord Hoskins? This is my friend, Lady Suzanne.”

  “How do you do?” Suzanne replied, curtsying and casting an eye over Charles as he took Martha’s hand and placed it under his arm. “It is very nice to meet you, Lord Green and Lord Hoskins.”

  Suzanne lifted one eyebrow as she looked at Martha, taking in her smile and feeling a sense of happiness as she realized what Martha hadn't been able to tell her.

  "Lord Green, is it? I hope you are taking good care of my friend, given the difficult time she has been having of late."

  “I have,” Charles replied, no trace of a stutter in his voice. “Lady Martha is most dear to me.”

  Martha felt her heart leap at his words, bestowing a dazzling smile on him.

  “And I am Lord Hoskins,” Matthew interjected, bowing once more.

  “Yes, I am aware of that,” Suzanne said crisply, taking in the gentleman before her. “You are also a friend of Lady Martha?”

  “Indeed,” Matthew replied, not able to take his eyes from Lady Suzanne. “And of Charles—I mean, Lord Green, of course.”

  “I see.”

  “Lord Hoskins has been searching for you, Suzanne,” Martha said, ignoring Matthew’s gasp of shock.

  “Searching for me?” Suzanne replied, turning her brilliant blue eyes back onto Lord Hoskins. “Whatever for?”

  “I…umm. What I mean to say, is…”

  “He was greatly taken with your red curls,” Charles interjected, glad to finally be able to get one over his friend. “In fact, he has talked about nothing else of late.”