Wounds of A Viscount: (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book)

by Deborah Wilson

  “When?”

  “Last night at Marley… I mean, Lord Astlen’s home.”

  Ebba smiled. “Then it should be easy for you to do it again.”

  “I can’t.” She’d already told him it would never happen again. Now Ebba wished her to go back on her word? She’d be sending Garrick the wrong message if she did.

  Ebba shrugged and then turned and grabbed the gun. “Very well. Good day.” She slipped it into her pocket and started from the room.

  “Wait! Ebba, please. You don’t understand.” Her lips began to tremble again.

  Ebba looked at her. “You kiss Garrick again, and I’ll give you the gun. It is an easy exchange, Nora. Honestly, you’re making much ado about nothing. You have a daughter. Surely, you’ve wooed a man before.”

  Nora’s cheeks grew warm. “This is different.” Garrick was different. No other man had ever made her body hum with just a look.

  “Do you want the gun?” Ebba asked.

  Nora nodded and straightened her shoulders. “I need it.”

  The other woman narrowed her gaze. Perhaps, Nora appeared a little too desperate. “If you wish to have it, you will kiss my cousin, and not a peck, a real kiss. And I want to see it to confirm the legitimacy of it.”

  Nora gasped. She had thought to lie, which Ebba had clearly figured out. “You wish me to kiss him publicly?”

  “No, but you’ll have to do it when I am nearby. Perhaps, at my father’s dinner next week? You’ll have plenty of time to court him before then. Otherwise, I keep this.” Ebba patted her pocket over the pistol. “Do we have an agreement?”

  A kiss.

  With any other man, it would only be a kiss. But Garrick was not like other men.

  Could she convince Garrick to kiss her again?

  “Why are you doing this?” Nora decided to ask. “Why is this so important to you?” Did she truly care about her cousin’s happiness or was it all a game? One could never know with Ebba.

  “My motives are pure, I can assure you,” Ebba said. “I bring you no harm, I swear.”

  Nora hadn’t even thought of that, but in the end, it didn’t matter.

  She would have to do this, but she had no idea how.

  How did a lady woo a man she’d already told not to come near her again?

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  1 1

  * * *

  “Are you certain you can handle all this?” Kent had one foot in his carriage, but the other still rested on the step. The earl gave both Garrick and Clive hard looks.

  “Do not fear,” Garrick said manually with his hands. “We will protect her.”

  Kent followed his hands and then looked up at Garrick’s face before he nodded. The Earl of Ganden settled into the carriage beside his wife. Lucy looked worried. A bundled Alvin rested in her lap.

  “You’ll write if anything goes wrong, won’t you?” she asked.

  “Immediately,” Clive answered. Then he turned to speak to George who looked excited and nervous about the journey. All the men had come for breakfast to see the boy on his way. They hadn’t known him long, but it was a very emotional morning. Miriam had been strong, but when breakfast ended, she burst into tears and the children clung to each other for a long time. George tried to give her comfort, but nothing seemed to work. Nora had been forced to pull the girl away and then Miriam had run off.

  No one stopped her. She was losing her greatest friend.

  Garrick’s own chest felt tight as George’s blue eyes turned to him. Though Lucy was only his aunt, he favored her. “I will miss you,” George said with his hands.

  Garrick grinned then reached out and touched his head. Then he said with slow motions, “When you return, you will have to tell me what you’ve learned.”

  George laughed. “I’m only eleven. You already know everything I’ve learned, Uncle Garrick.”

  “I easily forget things. What is your name again?”

  George laughed again. Then a wary expression entered his eyes. “You won’t truly forget me, will you?”

  “Never,” Garrick said aloud. “I love you.”

  George’s eyes began to mist, and he turned away. His hands returned the words, however. “I love you, too.”

  Clive touched George’s head. “You be good. Avoid the village girls. I hear—”

  “Clive!” Lucy reprimanded.

  Clive chuckled and stepped back.

  Kent closed the door but said through the window, “I’m glad you both decided to move in while I’m away. We’ll only be gone for a few weeks. Hopefully, this doesn’t change your schedules too terribly.” His green gaze swept from him and Clive and back.

  It would greatly change Garrick’s schedule, but he didn’t mind. It would only be for a few weeks.

  “Don’t worry,” Clive said. “Upon your return, we’ll be sure to have answers for you.”

  Kent nodded and then turned forward.

  Garrick and Clive stepped back, and the carriage rolled away.

  Garrick’s chest grew tighter, and he looked at George. George’s gaze was on the top window of the house, glued there with a pained expression. Garrick looked up, though he knew what he could find. Miriam was there. Her hand was on the glass. Her face was blocked by her brilliant fall of hair, but he noticed her shoulders were shaking. She was likely still weeping.

  Then a small hand covered her shoulder and pulled her away from the window.

  Nora.

  Clive sniffed and reached into his pocket for his handkerchief. “I can’t believe they’re taking him away.”

  Garrick wanted to say Clive was being dramatic, but his breathing was hard. He turned away from the street when the carriage disappeared and walked into the house.

  The others were in the sitting room. Marley and Selena. James and his raven-haired wife Kim.

  Selena stood. “We’ll leave you men alone. I wish to see if I can help Miriam in any way.”

  “Me, too,” Kim said.

  James helped a very heavy Kim onto her feet. She was swollen with child again. She already had a son, James Hayden V. She was hoping for a girl this time. James wanted another boy but didn’t actually care. Garrick knew they’d be happy so long as the child was healthy.

  When James looked ready to escort his wife from the room, she turned to him and smiled. Her eyes were a dark green, so dark in fact that you almost missed the hue. Except, her eyes were red. She’d been weeping. “I’m all right. You stay.” Kim slipped her hand into Lucy’s as they left the room.

  James watched his wife as far as he could and then turned to Garrick. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

  A hollowness filled the house now. That George would not return to his guardians until the holidays escaped no one’s mind. He’d be gone forever.

  Marley folded his arms. “I feel as though this is my fault. I spoke fondly of Eton. I had no idea Lucy would actually let the boy go.”

  “Come now,” Clive sighed as he moved to another chair in the room. “It isn’t as though he’s dead. The boy is simply going off to school.”

  Still, a sadness clung in the air.

  Garrick couldn’t get the image of Miriam at the window from his mind. He’d had a sister once upon a time. Rosa. She hadn’t looked like Miriam in the least. Her face had been slimmer, and she’d died long before the age of nine, but Garrick recalled how sad she’d grow when he went away, usually to the park or somewhere with his father.

  But this was different.

  He and Rosa had never been separated for more than a few hours.

  Garrick hadn’t gone to Eton. His parents had kept him close until the day they died.

  They were grisly memories.

  He was glad when James changed the subject. “What is your plan where Nora is concerned?” He was looking at Garrick, but it was Clive who spoke. He had a habit of doing so and Garrick rarely minded.

  “We plan to stay around, watch, and bother her until she tells us the truth.”

  James had turned t
o Clive while he spoke, but now he looked at Garrick. “Is that all?”

  Garrick shrugged. It was mostly the plan. What else could they do but wait and watch? They could not force the issue. Lucy would not be pleased if she returned to find herself without her friend. She didn’t actually need a companion. Everyone knew she was only holding onto Lady Honora because she liked her.

  Everyone liked her. She and Miriam fit into their fold quite nicely.

  James stood. “That works for me. I’ll go get my wife and go home. Notify me of any changes.” Marley left with him. They were upstairs for a short time and then the couples left.

  Finally, Clive turned to Garrick. “So, who is going to pester the woman first, you or me?”

  “Leave her be today. Miriam is not well and will need her.”

  Clive nodded. “You’re right.” He sighed heavily. “I suppose I was simply looking for a way to distract myself from thinking about him.” Him was George. It would likely take them all some time to adjust. Lucy would likely weep the moment she arrived at Eton… if she wasn’t already doing so now.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  1 2

  * * *

  Nora looked up from her teacup when Garrick stepped into the kitchen. Her heart jumped into her throat as he glided over to her and took the seat at her side. The morning light tangled in his dark locks and illuminated his eyes.

  His face was a work of perfection. Donatello could not have crafted a firmer form.

  This was the man she was supposed to convince to kiss her? Her gaze almost slipped to his lips, but with him being this close, the look would surely not go unnoticed.

  Not that she needed to. She knew what those tempting lips looked like.

  His eyes never leaving her, Garrick reached into his pocket, placed a missive on the table, and slid it toward her.

  Nora slowly glanced down at the note and then turned away entirely. Perhaps, if she pretended to not see it, he and his missive would simply vanish.

  “Read it.” His voice was a dark purr and it sent a shiver over her skin, warming her blood to a scalding degree.

  She shakily put down her teacup. “Please would be lovely.” She was always reminding Miriam and George to use their manners. She saw no reason to not extend the lesson to Garrick.

  “Please.”

  Another quake went through her. Perhaps, she would not encourage his manners after all. She thought it good that she’d not instructed him to greet her with a proper ‘good morning.’ She wasn’t sure she could take it at the moment.

  It was harder than usual to take Garrick in, not only because of Ebba’s challenge, but because she’d been aware of Garrick’s presence in the house through the night. She’d been able to hear his steps when he woke in the middle of the night, and she’d known to it be him, because she’d been made aware of the room he’d received two night ago by a maid.

  Nora had never lived in the servants’ quarters. Instead, Lucy had given her a lovely pale rose room in the guest hall, telling her that she was still a lady and she could not bear the thought of Nora being anywhere else. She’d also said that Nora needed to be close to George’s room just in case he needed her. And since Nora was in that portion of the house, so was Miriam. Their rooms were smaller than some of the other guest rooms but far better than Nora had imagined she’d receive.

  Yet as lovely as the room had been, she couldn’t help but wish she were in the basement or attic. Garrick was too close, as was Clive. They were watching her, waiting to see what she would do.

  Which meant she could do nothing until they’d gone.

  She feared she knew what the missive would say, but instead of being slow about it, she decided to get it over with.

  You and Miriam will eat your meals with Clive and me in the dining hall, just as you did with Lucy and Kent, or I will tell Lucy upon her return.

  She gasped and stared at him. “You enjoy telling on me, don’t you?”

  Part of his mouth hitched up, and he shrugged. Then he gestured, “I will do what I must.”

  She fought a blush. How could such words affect her, especially when he hadn’t even opened his mouth to say them?

  He leaned closer. “You surprised me the other day when you signed. Have you been studying?”

  She hesitated before she nodded.

  He smiled, slowly. His eyes heated her, making the room far warmer than it had been before he’d arrived.

  “I only sat at the main table because George was there, and I was to instruct him on how to properly use his silverware and how to eat like a gentleman.”

  Garrick gave her a rather bland expression. “You know that isn’t true.”

  Nora sighed. She knew he was right. Lucy wanted her there. Kent also seemed to enjoy larger gatherings at meals. Though, there had been the occasional early breakfast or late meal when he’d requested that he and Lucy be alone.

  George had walked in on one of those private meals and reported to Nora that Lord Ganden had not been eating his food, but rather his aunt’s face. Miriam had laughed. Nora had been left flustered, but thankfully, George had not inquired on just what the two had been up to.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  1 3

  * * *

  Nora and Garrick were alone in the kitchen. It was warm, thanks to the water being heated for cleaning and other uses. The ovens carried the fragrance of baked bread. The windows and back door were open. The walls were white with dark wood accents. Simple paintings hung between various pans and other utensils.

  Nora had never spent much time in what she’d always thought to be a servants’ domain until she came to work for Lucy and Kent. She actually liked the room. She liked the scents and the heat, and Cook never seemed to mind her presence.

  But she’d likely mind Garrick’s.

  “You’re not supposed to be in here, you know. This is the kitchen. It’s for the servants,” Nora decided to say, hoping to distract Garrick from the reason he’d come.

  “You are not a servant either.” Then he stood. “Come.” His voice always surprised her. He held out his hand.

  She should have known she couldn’t distract him with an argument. He wouldn’t argue with her. She looked down at her tea. “I’ve yet to finish my tea. When I’m done, I’ll let you know.” There was a paper a few inches up the table. She reached over and began to pull it closer, as if she was getting ready to read.

  He snatched the paper from her. “Nora,” he warned.

  She glared at him. “Miriam is asleep. I get very few moments alone as it is. Can you not leave me in peace?” She knew it was wrong to fight with him. Even if she wasn’t a servant, she was a lady and he was a lord. Also, fighting would not win her his kisses.

  Her stomach began to burn slowly at the thought.

  Garrick put down the paper and then stared at her. Then he lifted his hands and motioned with fluid deft hands. “I can carry you on my shoulder if you wish.”

  “Carry me on your…” Her lips parted. Then she stood and prayed her voice carried enough indignation to hide her hot face. “I am not a child that you can simply take where you wish. I know you and the other lords can become quite...” She stopped herself when she realized what she was about to say about her employer and his friends. There were lines she couldn’t cross.

  Garrick narrowed his eyes. “Go on. Say what you will.”

  She shook her head and ignored her trembling heart. “If this is how I am to be treated because I wish to keep a personal matter to myself then perhaps I should just—” She sucked in a quick breath when Garrick grabbed her wrist and held on.

  It was the second time he’d done this in a matter of days.

  She looked up at him and noticed the frustration that burned on his face. He wanted to speak, but she knew he had greater difficulties when angry.

  As if sensing her understanding of his shortcomings, he let her go. “Don’t go. I’ll leave.” He marched out.

  * * *

  Garrick heard her call for him
but didn’t turn around. He headed straight to the upstairs parlor. The room had been used for Lucy’s painting and Kent’s woodwork, but Garrick and Clive had had the servants clear it of its sparse furnishings and roll back the rugs until the space was clear enough for fencing. It was a sport he and Clive enjoyed. They were members of a fencing club in town, but since they were being forced to remain close to Nora, they’d decided to work here.

  Clive was practicing his technique. He’d removed his jacket and cravat. His shirt hung loose. A saber was in his hand. He moved with a grace and agility that spoke of many years behind a sword. He lunged and then turned to Garrick, both blade and front foot pointed and then straightened. He smiled. “That was quick. By your expression, I’m going to guess that Nora told you everything,” he teased.

  Garrick closed the door behind him and huffed. He removed his own jacket and cravat and tossed them with haste, not caring where they landed. He hated clothing, the cravat most of all. It reminded him far too much of the chain he’d worn around his throat for four years. He grabbed a foil and Clive did the same in order to avoid injury.

  They began with basic movements and slowly moved into attacks and counterattacks.

  Sweat poured from Garrick’s brow and his muscles were strained by the time Clive spoke.

  “She wouldn’t speak to you,” he guessed.

  Garrick grunted.

  “Perhaps, you should work on your charm.” Clive smiled and went high and tried to strike between Garrick and his sword, but Garrick moved. Clive was the better fighter. He beat everyone at their club, but Garrick was observant, and he’d spent a great amount of time observing his friend’s tactics.

  “Or maybe,” Clive said, circling him. “I should employ my own charms on the lady.” He grinned.

  The smile unsettled Garrick so much that he nearly came into contact with the tip of Clive’s blade.

  “No.” He blocked another strike.

  “Are you certain?” Clive asked. “I know that silent penetrating look you give works well with the woman at the brothel and even with half the women of the ton, but you’re going to need more than that to get to Nora’s secrets.”