The Viscount's Veiled Lady

by Jenni Fletcher

  ‘Frances...’ Violet reached out a hand when she saw her. ‘I’m glad... Ah!’

  ‘I’m here.’ Frances ran across the room, clutching her hand briefly before starting to haul at the laces on the back of her gown. ‘Has anyone sent for a doctor?’

  ‘Yes, and Captain Amberton, too.’ The housekeeper looked distinctly relieved by her arrival.

  ‘Good.’ She pulled Violet’s gown away so that she could breathe more easily. ‘There. That should feel cooler. Now,’ she turned to one of the maids, speaking calmly to allay the growing atmosphere of panic, ‘I’d be grateful if you could give a message to my coachman. Tell him to go back to Whitby and say I’ll be here for a while helping Mrs Amberton.’

  ‘Yes, miss.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Violet threw her a grateful look.

  ‘You didn’t think I’d just turn around and leave, did you?’

  ‘No...’ Violet bent over the bed, clutching the coverlet tightly between trembling fingers as another spasm of pain racked her body. ‘But I’m scared...it’s too soon.’

  ‘Not necessarily. My mother says that babies themselves decide when to be born. I was a month early. But if your child’s ready, then you need to be, too. You can squeeze my hand and scream as much as you like.’

  ‘You might regret...saying that.’

  ‘I might, but we’ll manage.’

  ‘Have you...done this before?’

  ‘Yes, I helped when my nephew Georgie was born.’ Not that she’d done much more than fetch and refresh bowls of water, but there was no need to tell Violet that... Frances smiled reassuringly. ‘I know exactly what to do, don’t worry.’

  * * *

  ‘What on earth are we carrying?’

  Lance panted as he and Arthur heaved an unwieldy and bizarre-looking contraption into one of the farm outbuildings.

  ‘It’s called a rouge wheel.’

  ‘It looks like two discs covered in leather.’

  ‘Apparently that’s what a rouge wheel is. It’s used for polishing jet.’

  ‘And this is your idea of a wedding present?’

  Arthur jerked his chin up defensively. ‘This and a few other things.’

  ‘Like that workbench and those shelves?’ Lance made a face. ‘Well, I suppose Frances knows what she’s getting herself into. If she’s marrying you, then she might even be crazy enough to appreciate all of this. Now if you’ve finished abusing my ill-advised offer of help, I’m going to make a pot of tea. I need it.’

  Arthur rubbed his sleeve over his face. He’d been elated for the first few days after his engagement, but now Lance’s words made him feel mildly discomforted. I suppose Frances knows what she’s getting herself into... But she didn’t, did she? He might have told her all about his past, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about his fears for the future. He’d hinted at them perhaps, but he’d never actually told her just how concerned he was about the possibility of losing his mind again. Over the past month he’d managed to convince himself that he’d put the past behind him, but what if he was wrong? What if there was still a chance of another episode? Shouldn’t he warn her? At least give her a chance to change her mind about marrying him?

  He grimaced at the thought of how that conversation might go. Dear Frances, as much as I’d like you to marry me, you ought to know that there’s a good chance my mind is unstable and I might run away again. Only try not to worry. It only happened once before for nine months. Hardly any time at all really... What bride wouldn’t want to hear such sweet words?

  He slammed a hand down on the workbench. At least the artist’s studio he was preparing for her was starting to take shape. Contrary to what she’d assumed, he had no intention of stopping her from making jewellery and hopefully this would prove it to her. There was a new stove and lamp, as well as a rug he’d taken from the parlour to make it more cosy. Of course, they’d need a new one for the parlour at some point, but he’d let Frances choose that. She’d probably want to redecorate the whole house according to her own tastes. That was if she wanted to live there at all. Maybe she assumed that they’d move into Amberton Castle. Everything had happened so quickly there hadn’t been a chance to discuss it. Maybe there were more things he ought to discuss with her?

  He ran a hand over his head. The more he thought of it, the more telling her the truth, all of it, seemed unavoidable. It would be difficult, painful even, but his conscience wouldn’t let him marry her until he had. If she was the woman he thought she was, then she’d understand and at least it would give him an excuse to visit her again, something he hadn’t done for the past four days and which he was finding increasingly difficult to bear.

  There was a sound of hooves and he went outside to see a horse and rider galloping into the yard. One glimpse of red hair and he recognised Lance’s young protégé, a youth he’d taken into his service five years before and was now training as a steward.

  ‘Daniel?’ He caught at the horse’s reins. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘It’s Mrs Amberton, sir. The baby’s coming. She wants...’

  ‘The baby?’ Lance was already standing on the farmhouse doorstep, his face ashen. ‘Now?’

  ‘Yes, sir. It came on very sudden. I got here as quickly as I could.’

  ‘You’ve done well.’ Arthur was already throwing a saddle over his own horse. ‘What about a doctor?’

  ‘Mrs Gargrave’s sent for one, sir.’

  ‘Good... Lance!’ Arthur bellowed as his brother showed no sign of moving. ‘Come on!’

  ‘It shouldn’t be happening yet.’ Lance still didn’t move. With his grey pallor he looked almost like a statue.

  ‘That doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. You said so yourself. You wanted the babe to come early, remember?’

  ‘Yes, but not this early!’ Lance shook his head. ‘I should never have said that. This is all my fault.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Arthur practically hurled his horse’s reins at him. ‘It doesn’t work that way. Now get on your horse. Violet needs you. Now!’

  ‘Violet!’

  Lance’s shout was so loud that Frances thought half of Yorkshire must have heard him arrive. It put even her father’s bellow to shame, though it wasn’t the kind of call designed to soothe a woman in labour either. Fortunately, the doctor’s arrival five minutes earlier meant that she was able to run out into the corridor to greet him.

  ‘Captain A—Oh!’ She stopped at the sight of both Amberton brothers. Arthur had an arm wrapped around his usually stubbornly independent twin’s shoulders and was half-dragging, half-carrying him up the stairs.

  ‘Frances?’ Arthur looked equally surprised to see her, almost dropping Lance as their eyes met. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I came to show Violet some of my jewellery.’

  ‘Oh, Captain Amberton, Lord Scorborough...’ The housekeeper followed her out of the room. ‘Thank goodness you’re both here. I’ll make some tea. Captain!’ She gasped as Lance made to push past her. ‘Surely you’re not going in there? It’s not proper.’

  ‘Propriety be damned! Who’s going to stop me?’

  ‘Wait!’ Frances decided to do just that, taking a firm step sideways. The crazed expression in his eyes was disquieting. ‘Take a deep breath first.’

  ‘Why?’ His expression turned from surprised to panicked in under a heartbeat. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘Nothing. The doctor says that everything’s proceeding as normal, but Violet needs you to be calm.’

  ‘Calm?’

  ‘Yes, calm. You’ll be no help at all to her like this.’

  ‘But she’s all right? She’ll be all right?’

  ‘I hope so.’ Frances looked towards Arthur for support. Lance’s very intensity was alarming, as if he were trying to force her into a promise she had no way of keeping.

  ‘Maybe
I shouldn’t go in after all.’ He looked uncertain suddenly, running a hand through his hair as he half-turned back towards the stairs. ‘Or maybe just a drink first...’

  ‘Don’t you dare.’ Arthur gripped his shoulders, swinging him back round again.

  ‘But I can’t...’

  ‘Yes, you can! Lance, Violet needs you, more than she’s ever needed you, and if you go anywhere near a bottle tonight then I swear I’ll throw you out of this house myself. Imagine what she’ll think if you go in there smelling of brandy.’ He pushed his face closer. ‘Don’t make me beat some sense into you, little Brother. Now get in there and be strong for your wife.’

  Frances felt as though the temperature in the corridor had just plummeted, the atmosphere turning icy as the two brothers fronted up to each other. She’d never heard Arthur speak in such a peremptory fashion, nor sound so commanding before. Anyone listening would have thought that he was the army captain. She waited as the mood seemed to become more and more tense, afraid that they were about to come to blows, but then Lance pulled his shoulders back, clenched his jaw and marched straight ahead into the bedchamber, his face set with a look of stolid determination.

  ‘Well, if you don’t need me any more...’ The housekeeper gave her a beseeching look.

  ‘No, you’ve done plenty, Mrs Gargrave.’ Frances recognised the plea. ‘I think the doctor can handle things now. I’ll stay, too.’

  ‘She looks relieved.’ Arthur arched an eyebrow as the housekeeper practically ran down the staircase.

  ‘It hasn’t been easy.’ Frances threw a worried look at the doorway. ‘I think Mrs Gargrave is the one who needs a drink.’

  ‘Then she’s welcome to raid the drinks cabinet.’ He took her hand and pressed it. ‘How about you?’

  ‘I’m all right.’

  ‘I’ll be here in case you need anything.’

  Frances looked into his face, touched by the gentleness of his expression, and then rushed forward, throwing her arms around his midriff and burying her face in his neck. At that moment, all she needed was his warmth and reassuring presence. He held her close, pressing his lips into her hair as she let out a sigh. How could she ever have thought he was a brute?

  ‘This is all I need.’ She squeezed her arms tight. ‘Just this.’

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Arthur felt as though he’d been pacing for hours, which in all fairness, he probably had. It must have been at least three since he and Lance had arrived and Violet had been in labour for at least another hour before that. He’d paced up and down while several maids had come and gone, carrying fresh supplies, though Frances and Lance had remained closeted inside. The world outside the windows had fallen silent and dark, in contrast to the lights burning and the cries emanating from inside. Time itself seemed to have lost all meaning. If only there were something he could do...

  He stopped abruptly, jerking his head up at the sound of a baby’s cry, followed by a muffled exclamation.

  ‘Frances?’ He called her name out instinctively, breathing a sigh of relief when the door opened and her face appeared. Her bun had come half-unravelled so that tendrils of dark hair tumbled loose over her shoulders and cascaded halfway down her back. He’d never seen her hair down before and she looked beautiful. As well as half-dead on her feet.

  ‘Is it over?’ He stepped forward as she came out into the corridor and closed the door softly behind her.

  ‘The first one, yes.’ She gave a tight smile. ‘Twins.’

  ‘Twins?’ He drew in a long breath and then released it again in a rush. Of course it was twins. They ought to have known by Violet’s size. Ironic that he and Lance, of all people, shouldn’t have guessed.

  ‘This one’s a girl.’

  He nodded. ‘How’s Lance?’

  ‘Better. I think what you said did the trick, only...’

  She lifted a hand as if to brush whatever she was worried about aside and he caught it, raising the knuckles to his lips.

  ‘Only what?’

  ‘Only don’t go far.’ She didn’t look him in the eye this time, staring at a point just below his chin instead. ‘Just in case...’

  Just in case... He felt his throat constrict at the intimation. ‘Is it so bad?’

  ‘Violet’s exhausted, but the doctor says the second baby is usually easier, so...’

  She let her voice trail away and he nodded. ‘You look worn out, too. Maybe you should have something to eat?’

  ‘No, I couldn’t.’ She shook her head and a coil of dark hair unhooked itself from behind her ear and fell over her face. He lifted their fingers together to sweep it back again, before cradling them gently against her cheek.

  ‘Frances...’

  ‘I have to go back.’ Her voice sounded ragged and he dropped his hand reluctantly, seeing the effort it cost her to control her emotions.

  ‘Yes. I’ll still be here, I promise.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Lord Scorborough?’ The door had barely closed behind her before Mrs Gargrave’s head appeared at the top of the staircase again, though she seemed reluctant to come any closer. ‘Any news?’

  He forced a smile. The housekeeper looked only marginally less anxious than he felt.

  ‘It’s a girl.’

  ‘Oh!’

  ‘But there’s another baby on the way.’

  ‘Twins?’ The housekeeper’s expression turned from joyful to anxious again. ‘Can I do anything?’

  ‘No.’ It was the question they were all asking. ‘Except, perhaps you might prepare a room for Miss Webster? I’m sure she’ll be exhausted after...’

  He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to. The words hung in the air between them, unspoken, unnecessary. After this is all over... As it soon would be, one way or another. Only he didn’t want to think about the other way.

  ‘Of course, Lord Scorborough. I’ll make up one of the guest rooms myself. You know that I like to keep busy.’ Mrs Gargrave started back down the stairs and then stopped. ‘Would you like your old room made up as well?’

  Arthur’s brows snapped together at once. Despite his regular visits to see Lance and Violet, he rarely stayed there. The last, very last thing he wanted to do was spend a night in his old home, but he couldn’t abandon Frances. Now especially.

  ‘I appreciate the offer, but I’ll sleep in an armchair.’

  ‘An armchair?’ Despite the circumstances, Mrs Gargrave was still able to convey a sense of disapproval. ‘Very well, Lord Scorborough, as you wish.’

  Arthur rested a shoulder against the wall with a sigh. Perhaps he ought simply to have agreed to placate her, especially since he doubted anyone in the house would be getting much sleep tonight. There would be no rest until the ordeal was over, and after that, if all went well, he’d have Frances to take care of. And if all didn’t go well...well, then in all likelihood they’d be taking care of Lance together, though if anything happened to Violet he had a feeling his brother would be inconsolable.

  He pushed the thought aside as a piercing scream cut the air, followed by a shout that surely had to have come from Lance and then the whole house seemed to fall eerily silent. He stayed perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe, let alone move, and then the door opened and Frances appeared on the threshold, a small bundle cradled in her arms.

  ‘It’s over—’ she was moving quickly this time ‘—and you said you wanted to be useful.’

  ‘Is that...?’ He was vaguely aware of gawking.

  ‘A baby? Yes.’ She smiled. ‘Meet your new niece. Your nephew has only just arrived.’

  ‘A boy, too?’

  ‘A beautiful boy.’ Her smiled widened. ‘The doctor’s taking care of Violet now, but he thinks she’ll be all right. Here—’ she thrust the bundle towards him ‘—I need to help clear up.’

  He took a deep breath an
d then held his arms out. The baby was lighter than he’d expected, bright pink and wrinkled, but her tiny eyes were already open, their expression faintly bewildered as she took one look at him and started wailing.

  ‘I think she’d prefer to stay with you.’ He looked anxiously at Frances as she drew her arms away.

  ‘I think she’d prefer her mother, but you’ll have to do for a few minutes.’ Frances gave him a supportive tap on the shoulder. ‘Don’t worry. If you can carry a piglet under each arm, then you can manage a baby.’

  She hurried away again, leaving him rocking the child in his arms and wishing he shared her confidence. He’d never held a newborn before, at least not one that wasn’t a farm animal, but somehow the swaying movement came naturally. He must be doing something right, he reasoned. The wailing seemed to be quieting.

  ‘Arthur?’ Mercifully, Frances’s head appeared around the doorway again after only a few minutes. ‘You can come in now.’

  He moved gingerly towards the room, taking minute steps to avoid tripping, feeling slightly awkward and out of place. Violet was sitting upright in bed, Lance at her side, looking like an even tinier shadow of her former self, with sunken, shadowy eyes and hair that looked as if it had been pasted to her head. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a person look more exhausted and yet her smile was breathtaking as she gazed down at the babe in her arms.

  ‘I never pegged you for a nursemaid.’ Lance stood up to greet him. He looked almost as bad as Violet, as if he’d aged ten years in one night, but his smile was just as wide.

  ‘Neither did I.’ Arthur passed him his daughter. ‘This one’s a troublemaker.’

  ‘Just like her father.’ Violet tore her eyes away from her son to smile at first him and then Frances. ‘Thank you, both of you. I’ll never forget it.’