The Secrets of a Viscount

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The Secrets of a Viscount Page 16

by Linda Rae Sande


  “He thinks you’re a ‘ten’,” Godfrey stated, deciding he would tell Elise the very same thing when he was next in her company. Why, his betrothed deserved to know what he thought of her. That he thought her the most beautiful woman on the planet. The only woman who he would ever deign to consider as his viscountess. The only woman he would ever marry.

  “A ‘ten’?” she repeated, her eyes wide. Diana visibly swallowed, as if she couldn’t decide what she should think of such a statement. “Pray tell, is that... a good number? Or...”

  “The very best, I assure you,” Godfrey murmured with a nod. “My betrothed is a ‘ten’, in fact. She has been her entire life.” He dared a glance toward the house in which Breckinridge had disappeared. “Might I inquire as to what you thought of Mr. Comber?” He turned to watch her reaction, puzzled by how she gave a start at the mention of Elise. Her wide eyes mesmerized him, as did a face that sported one of the prettiest blushes he could ever remember seeing on a young lady. One that reminded him of how Elise had looked back when they first spoke of marriage all those years ago.

  Nearly twenty years ago.

  “Truth be told, I thought him a bounder, my lord,” Diana admitted sadly. “I certainly didn’t expect he would return with a special license. Why, he doesn’t even know my name,” she said with a shake of her head. “What was I supposed to do when he merely thought to spend his afternoon in the company of a young woman with nothing more in mind than a passing fancy?”

  “That I was a fool in love for not having learned your name before taking my leave of you,” Adam stated from behind her. His top hat held in both of his hands, the younger viscount dared a glance at Godfrey before turning his attention to the young woman who had whirled about and was now gazing up at him in surprise.

  Godfrey cleared his throat. “Miss Diana Albright, might I introduce you to Adam Comber, Viscount Breckinridge?” he said in his most somber voice. He hadn’t yet decided if he was doing the young woman any favors by introducing her to the viscount.

  To the bounder.

  “I’m honored to make your acquaintance,” Adam said as he bowed deeply. He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips.

  “I didn’t think you’d come,” Diana whispered with a shake of her head. “I thought...”

  “Please don’t say you thought I was insincere in my pursuit of you,” Adam countered, his brows furrowing. He didn’t let go of her hand, but rather held onto it as he gazed at her.

  The young woman shook her head. “Oh, I believed you. Especially after what you said at the tea shop. But when you still hadn’t asked as to my name, I figured you were merely a—”

  “A bounder,” he finished for her.

  She nodded, realizing he had overheard the remark. “I apologize—”

  “Don’t,” he interrupted with a shake of his head. “I was a fool to let you out of my sight yesterday,” he said in a whisper. He suddenly frowned. “And yet, if I’m to secure a license for us to marry on the morrow, I really must take my leave of you again.” He looked up, expecting to find Thorncastle standing behind her and pointing at his chronometer in a fit of impatience. Instead, he noticed the man was back at the hackney, cane in hand and regarding the sky with a look of awe.

  Adam followed his gaze and grinned as the clouds parted and the afternoon sun lit the walkway on which they stood. The bright rays also lit Diana’s face. She appeared almost angelic as light painted its way over her visage. “Seeing as how we have His blessing, I shall be on my way,” Adam said with a good deal of sadness. “Do tell me, though, how might I find you tomorrow?”

  Diana rolled her eyes and pointed to the building from which Adam had emerged only moments ago. “There,” she said with a nod. “But don’t think I’ll marry you wearing any of the gowns I own,” she warned him suddenly.

  Blinking, Adam angled his head first left and then right. “Shopping in New Bond Street tomorrow then?” he suggested with an arched brow. “After a walk in the park? Wedding on Sunday?”

  Diana dared a glance at the hackney, wondering when Lord Thorncastle thought to marry his betrothed. They would require witnesses no matter when they married. She was about to ask if they might serve in that regard, but decided she needed to discuss it with someone else first. She rather hoped her aunt was watching this bit of spectacle from where she sat in the parlor of Alpha House.

  As for marrying on a Sunday, was that even possible?

  Adam watched as Diana seemed to ponder his suggestion. He knew it was probably scandalous to suggest he accompany her as she shopped for a gown, but he felt a bit of relief that she didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the suggestion. They had just spent the afternoon prior in several shops in Jermyn Street.

  A giggle erupted from the dance teacher, and she finally allowed a nod. “Come fetch me at ten o’clock, my lord,” Diana replied as her face colored up in a blush that matched her pink gown.

  “Truth be told, you’re rather lovely in the gown you’re wearing right now,” Adam said with a grin. “Are you quite sure we can’t be married later this afternoon? Or this evening, perhaps?”

  “Tomorrow at ten,” she countered with an arched brow. An arched brow he was quite sure she had learned from his mother.

  “Ten o’clock,” he agreed. He paused a moment before leaning down to buss her on the cheek. “I shall count the hours,” he promised.

  “Can you count? That high, I mean?” she countered, a brilliant smile appearing to give away her tease.

  “Why, of course...” His face took on the look of a man who realized he’d been the butt of a joke. “I shall show you just how high I can count,” he warned, his lips coming down onto hers.

  Although Diana’s first thought was to pull away—anyone from the school could have paid witness to the kiss—she allowed the brief intimacy. At that moment, she found she really didn’t care who saw them. She would in a moment or two, but the few seconds of his kiss were as if time had stopped and only they existed. Only they mattered.

  “He might be able to count, but he surely cannot tell time,” Godfrey called out from where he stood next to the hackney. This time, he really was pointing to his chronometer, Adam noted when he reluctantly ended the kiss and spun around.

  Adam lifted Diana’s hand to kiss the back of it. “I’m off to the archbishop’s office. Please don’t change your mind, Miss Albright,” he warned as he hurried off to join Godfrey in the hackney. “I wish to spend the rest of my days with you. Counting them!” he called out before disappearing into the coach.

  Diana stood and watched Adam as he leaped into the hackney, giving her head a bit of a shake. Bounder, she thought with a roll of her eyes. Two fingers went to her lips, though, as the effects of his kiss seemed to linger there.

  Once the hackney had turned the corner and was gone, she made her way to the Alpha House parlor, wondering if Viscount Breckinridge would ever feel for her the kind of love Viscount Thorncastle felt for his true love.

  Let me count the days.

  Chapter 22

  A Teacher Considers Her Future

  A few minutes later

  “What in the world was that all about?” Elise asked as she dared another glance out the front window of Alpha House, the building in which the teachers of Warwick’s Grammar and Finishing School lived if they didn’t have homes in London. “Was that Lord Breckinridge?” She knew there had been another, older man with the viscount, but from her vantage and the mere glimpse she had of the man, she didn’t know who he might be.

  Her goddaughter and second-oldest niece dipped her head before giving it a nod. “It was,” Diana Albright acknowledged. “He insists he is on his way to the Archbishop of Canterbury’s office with the intent to procure a special license. He intends to marry me, my lady,” she said in awe.

  Elise’s eyes widened before she dared a grin. Having been told the same thing the night before by Godfrey, she knew exactly how Diana felt. “He is the one, then?” she asked as she dared
another glance out the front window.

  “He thinks so,” Diana allowed with a mischievous grin. “I insisted I could not marry him in any of the gowns I own. Told him to be here at ten in the morning to take me shopping.”

  Elise’s eyes widened in appreciation. “If he appears at ten, then you’ll know he’s sincere in his intentions,” she replied, not sure if she should put voice to the most obvious question. “What then?” she asked instead.

  Diana inhaled sharply and then suddenly sobered. “I suppose I shall marry him,” she whispered, uncertainty coloring her voice. She couldn’t help the rush of excitement she felt at the thought that a viscount—and a handsome one at that—wanted her as his wife. That he would seek her out to learn her name when she had done nothing to encourage him.

  Well, other than to knock on the door of White’s to learn who he might be. To learn how she ranked in his estimation.

  Her brows furrowed as she remembered Lord Thorncastle’s comment.

  He thinks you’re a ten.

  The very best.

  Elise reached out with an arm to pull her niece into a light hug. “He knows, then?” she half-questioned.

  Diana stiffened in her arms, immediately understanding her aunt’s query. “No. I... I’ve not told him. He knows very little about my family,” she whispered. “I mentioned Mother had died and that my father had remarried...” She allowed the sentence to trail off, her lower lips trembling when she remembered how she had spoken of her father and his new wife. As if they were no longer part of her life.

  Perhaps she had left the viscount with the impression she was estranged from her father.

  To some extent, it was true. She hadn’t paid a call on him since his marriage to Helen Harrington, nor did she dare. What if the duchess was in residence? How would she explain her reason for wanting an audience with James Burroughs, Duke of Ariley? Would her father have told his duchess he had not just one, but two illegitimate daughters?

  Probably not, if what her mother had said to her was true. The female members of the peerage didn’t want to know their male counterparts had engaged in sex with anyone but them, even if they secretly knew they weren’t the first in their bed. Or the only after they were married.

  If only her mother was still alive! Lily Albright would know what she should do. Provide counsel and a shoulder to cry on if her words proved what Diana suspected.

  That she shouldn’t give Viscount Breckinridge’s proposal another minute of thought. That his words were merely those of a man in lust with her. That he would come to his senses—or someone would remind him he should be seeking a proper daughter of the ton.

  The death of her mother had been hard, the courtesan having protected Diana and her older sister from the vagaries of illegitimacy, raising them as the daughters of a duke.

  The daughters of the Duke of Ariley.

  There was a reason James Burroughs had waited so long to marry and sire a legitimate heir. He had been secretly in love with his mistress, Lily Albright, and carried on a private life with her until her death in 1809. He bestowed gifts on his daughters for their every birthday and Christmas, and saw to funding dowries they could either use for the purpose of marriage or for living independent lives.

  Diana would gain the use of hers when she turned five-and-twenty—if she didn’t marry before then. As for her older sister, Daisy, Diana expected she had already opted to take the money for herself. She couldn’t imagine Daisy ever marrying, if only because she had at one time assumed her older sister would follow in their mother’s footsteps. But Daisy Albright had instead used the skills their mother had taught her and secured a position in Whitehall.

  Diana knew her sister was a spy for the Foreign Office, but she was sworn to secrecy on the matter. Probably no one besides Matthew Fitzsimmons, Viscount Chamberlain, or some of Daisy’s associates could say exactly what Daisy did in exchange for her pay.

  As for her own situation, Diana thought teaching at a finishing school would prevent anyone from discovering her relationship to the Duke of Ariley. From deciding they wished to court her for her dowry. For the money she would gain the following year when she reached her majority.

  Diana thought to merely bide her time teaching, and then, when her account at the Bank of England was suddenly flush with funds from her father, she would decide if she should buy a house and live in luxury near Hyde Park, or buy a small estate in Kent and live in the country.

  She had never given thought to being married. Her older sister had certainly never thought of matrimony, but then, Diana didn’t think Daisy could given what the woman had to do in her various guises as a spy. Her work required her to act as an enchantress. A mystery woman. A mistress.

  Daisy’s only hope for an advantageous marriage would be if one of her fellow operatives decided he could overlook her status as a ruined woman and make her his wife. No, far better that Daisy continue her life as an independent woman. She had bided her time until her monies were deposited in her account the year before.

  Even if Daisy couldn’t take full advantage of the funds at the time.

  She had been on an assignment in York for nearly two years. Once she had helped see to the arrest of a man involved in smuggling illegal liquor into York, Daisy had returned to London to see Diana and had then taken her leave of the city with a promise she would return once she had either taken another assignment or resigned her position.

  Diana was still waiting for her sister’s return to London. Perhaps the announcement of her wedding to a viscount and heir to an earldom would force her sister to reappear in the capital.

  Perhaps not.

  This wedding isn’t really going to happen, she reminded herself. A viscount wouldn’t marry an illegitimate woman.

  Would he?

  Pulling away from Diana so that she could regard her niece, Elise managed a wan smile. “You’ll have to tell him, Di. I’ve no idea how Aimsley will react—I don’t know the earl well at all—but I believe his mother will be quite pleased to learn her new daughter is a Burroughs,” she whispered. She rather imagined Patience Comber, Countess of Aimsley, would be relieved when told her oldest son had settled on anyone to be his wife. Her son was nearing thirty, after all.

  But Diana wasn’t a typical daughter of the ton. She wasn’t a debutante, nor was she one who’d had her come-out years ago and was almost a spinster.

  Nor was she a widow.

  But she was an illegitimate daughter of the ton.

  When Diana didn’t respond, Elise angled her head and allowed a wan smile. “A penny for your thoughts,” she said quietly, watching her goddaughter for signs she might be changing her mind about marrying Adam Comber.

  “I rather wish my sister were here.” When she realized how her words might sound to Elise, she quickly shook her head. “I meant no offense, of course!”

  “None taken, I assure you,” Elise said with a shake of her head. “I rather imagine Daisy will return when she’s of a mind to do so. I do believe she felt...” Elise swallowed, knowing her secret niece had felt a bit soiled after her last assignment.

  It hadn’t been the first time Daisy Albright had been sent into the field with an assignment to bed a man in exchange for information, but it was the first time she had been sent to spy on the wrong man.

  To bed the wrong man.

  To act the part of a mistress. To take his money, and live in elegant quarters he paid for, and then betray him—despite feeling affection for him. Too late, the poor woman realized how the man despised her for apparently leaving him to pursue a richer master. Because he thought she was greedy—trading his affections for a nicer townhouse, larger jewels, more pin money—when, in fact, she was only doing her job.

  Daisy couldn’t tell the man, a marquess, why, of course. She could never divulge her duty for King and country without giving up her true identity.

  Better the man never know. Especially now that he was married.

  Elise gave a start when she realized Di
ana was passing a hand before her eyes. “A penny for your thoughts, I should think,” she countered. “Where were you just then?”

  Coloring up a bit, Elise allowed a sigh. “Thinking of your sister. I do believe she felt as if she had betrayed someone for whom she had developed a tendré,” she murmured before allowing another sigh. “But the man is married now, to a proper young lady.” She grimaced at this last, giving her head a shake. “I didn’t mean that quite how it sounded. It’s just...” Elise sighed. “I don’t think the Marquess of Plymouth would be a very pleasant man for Daisy. He’s far too serious,” she remarked. Elise gave her younger niece another smile. “How soon do you suppose Breckinridge will wish to marry?” she asked, changing the subject in an effort to take her mind off Daisy.

  Giving a slight shrug, Diana said, “Sunday, he says. Is that even possible?”

  Elise’s eyes widened. “This Sunday?”

  “He suggested tomorrow.”

  Elise considered this bit of information. Why, she might be married on the morrow if Godfrey could somehow secure a license and convince her they shouldn’t wait. She hadn’t expected such enthusiasm from a man who at first seemed so... sad about having to marry. “You might be in good company,” she answered. “I have decided to wed again.”

  Diana gave a start. “I thought you were going to be an independent woman!” she chided in feigned shock.

  Rolling her eyes as she recalled her words to that effect, Elise finally allowed a shrug. “Thorncastle has proposed.”

  The younger woman’s mouth dropped open in a most unbecoming manner as one of her hands came up to point toward the front window. “Godfrey Thorncastle?” she clarified. “The viscount?”

  Elise’s gaze followed the young woman’s finger. She was about to admonish the girl for pointing as well as for the look of shock on her face when she considered the reaction. “How is it you know Lord Thorncastle?”

  “I just met the man! He was the other gentleman with Lord Breckinridge,” Diana claimed. “He’s the one who properly introduced us, I might add,” she said happily. She suddenly sobered. “He was also the one who forced Breckinridge to hurry back to the hackney lest they be too late to Doctors’ Commons.”

 

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