The Viscount and the Heiress

by Dominique Eastwick

  “How do you know all this?” Wolfe asked.

  “I was at his place, sobering up one evening. Having overdone the spirits the night before, I was in no condition to be in public. A messenger picked up a package.”

  “And he just told you?” Isabel couldn’t imagine Jonathon giving up any information. He played everything so close to the vest.

  “Actually, yes. He said he never told me before because no one had ever asked.” Simon smiled. “He wasn’t hiding what he did with his money, only how he made it. I assumed he made it at the card tables. But I know now that was too risky. If it were just him, he would have gambled it all and probably would have won.”

  Wolfe humphed.

  “The only person he ever lost against was you, Wolfe,” Simon continued. “But he had nine brothers to think about. He would never bet on their well-being.”

  “I still think there was some gambling. No way he could be paying for his life with what is made on the docks. But perhaps he only bet on the sure things,” Andrew filled in. “I have witnessed him on a few of those nights. One where he walked away with hundreds, if not thousands, of pounds. But those nights were few and far between.”

  “So, you have to keep this secret. If he tells you about it, don’t lie, tell him you knew, but unless he broaches the subject, let it rest.” Wolfe was a wise man.

  They pulled into the drive and all took to their rooms as Wolfe dealt with the horse and carriage. Unlike earlier, when exhaustion had led her into dreamland, now she lay awake listening to the house. Straining for the sounds of the three brothers returning. The sun had crested over the trees by the time she heard the telltale signs of the front door opening. In a house with few servants, he and his brothers didn’t concern themselves with being seen. Footsteps paused at her door, and, when they didn’t move on, she sprang from her bed and threw open the door to find a stunned Jonathon standing on the other side.

  “Are you just going to stand there, or are you coming in?”

  “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  She reached up and grabbed his lapels, pulling him over her threshold. Before he could argue, she stood on tiptoe and covered his lips with hers. He groaned and took over the kiss, giving her the strength to hope for more. He eased back to close the door. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I want to do this.” She pushed his overcoat over his shoulders then pulled his shirt from his waistband and lifted it over his head. She never let her gaze fall to the clothing. She would keep her tongue on the matter until he trusted her to tell. “I want you. I want my husband.”

  “Is this safe?”

  “I think so.”

  “The only thing I remember my mother saying about her pregnancies was that it was the only time my father left her alone.”

  She cupped his face. “Let’s start our life together by agreeing your father didn’t know a thing about marriage and family. I want what my parents have.”

  He stared deep into her eyes as if trying to read her thoughts. “Your parents have a love match.”

  Time to be brave. If she wanted something, she had to fight for it. If her husband could work so hard for his brothers, she could damned well endeavor for a happy marriage. “We had love once. Can’t we try to find it again?”

  “Is that what you really want?”

  “Yes.”

  “Izzy, you will destroy me if later on you say this isn’t what you want.” The softness and vulnerability in her husband surprised her. She hadn’t seen this side since his mother’s death. Now, his soul lay bare before her. The depth of his fear showed through, and she wondered how he had hidden it for so long.

  “I loved you then, and I believe I still love you. I need to find that woman again because I have hidden her so deep.” She brushed his lips. “But she’s there somewhere waiting for you.”

  The room suddenly spun as he lifted her off her feet carrying her to her bed. Placing her in the center he pulled away from her only long enough to strip his clothing off and removed her nightgown. Self-conscious, she covered her stomach.

  “Don’t hide from me.” He removed one hand at a time. She knew her stomach, though never flat, now had a growing bump to it. He leaned in and placed a kiss just above her belly button. “I’ll always be thankful for this little one.”

  “Not many would feel that way.”

  “Not many had given up hope to be with their soul mate.”

  The warm breath against her cooling skin sent a series of goose pimples up her limbs and butterflies into her belly. Warm, rough hands, toughened by hard work no lord was supposed to know, tickled her tender skin. And she loved him all the more for his need to protect his family. But, without explaining why her heart was full to bursting, he would not likely believe her turnaround in feelings. She had been such a fool. What did it matter what he had told the cantankerous old bastard years ago? She should have believed the words he spoke to her. Should have known the love showing in his eyes every time he looked at her had been true.

  A trail of tender kisses leading to the apex of her thighs had her spreading her legs and arching up to him. Only the intimate kisses he could bestow would sate her need for him now. As his tongue made contact with the tender nub, she moaned. When he suckled, she hissed, and as he made love to her with his tongue, she panted until he ripped the very soul from her. Her hips lifted off the bed of their own volition. The need to have him deeper was uncontrollable, to make the two of them one.

  He must have sensed her desire as he climbed up between her thighs, positioned his cock at her wet opening, and entered her with a long, slow grind. Their eyes locked, and he withdrew to return again. Each thrust slowed as if he were savoring every inch of her. She took him in and claimed Jonathon as her husband. Together, they moved to the edge of pleasure only to hold off from jumping over the edge. But, soon enough, neither could stay their desires. The animalistic need to enjoy the pleasure the other offered became too much. As she screamed his name and clamped her legs around his hips, he paused for a brief second before his body shook. She held him within her, squeezed him tight, determined to draw out every last drop of his essence. Fully sated and exhausted, he fell onto the bed next to her, breathing heavily into her neck.

  Within seconds, his breathing calmed. She knew he slept, exhausted from work and drained from their lovemaking. Determined to keep his secret, she decided this was how she would greet him every morning until her body could no longer take him.

  Chapter Four

  Six months later….

  Jonathon didn’t know when it dawned on him that his countess had become aware of his secret, but she knew. Yet, she said nothing. Even now, with her body round with his babe and the due date of their child fast approaching, she still welcomed him into her bed and her body upon his return to the house every morning. He was so close to paying off the last of the debts. A few more weeks, and he would be in the clear. Money would be tight, but his father’s debts would be erased.

  So much had changed in the months since their wedding. Begrudgingly, he’d made the trip to London for the start of the season, but only to make an appearance as the new earl. He’d stayed a few weeks, but with Isabel indisposed and unable to travel to the capital, the delights of the season held no real interest to him. Their graces hosted him while in town, and, with all the women currently with child, the weekly poker games had been more talks of impending fatherhood than gambling.

  Gabriel brought his new bride, the former Amanda Quincy, to town to make her debut into society. A prospect Chandra had taken on with great relish, the marchioness took her under her wing, sponsoring her for the season. Though not a love match, Gabriel had displayed no amount of displeasure in the union. Amanda proved to be painfully shy and more interested in books than balls. She also showed no interest in moving into her own residence, as, being an only child, she longed for a large family. So, when not in London and under the marquis’ roof, they resided at the family
estate. The influx of money from the Quincys helped with major repairs to the house.

  Jacob had become rector for one of Foxhaven’s many estates, which meant one less mouth to feed in the house. And, somehow, two scholarships had been found to send the two youngest back to Eton. He knew the scholarships had been sponsored by the three other couples, and when he questioned if there were other more-deserving recipients, he was informed the moneys could only go to two brothers of a certain age. No one else fit the requirement. Jonathon questioned it no more. They would pay it forward when they could.

  William and the other brothers spent a great deal of time with the livestock and preparing for the upcoming harvest. They visited local farms and read all they could. There was a determination to make the estate viable again. As William had said at dinner one night, they didn’t need to be rich, but it would be nice if they were able to house some tenants and staff again.

  When he entered the house in the early morning hours, the warmth of the bedchamber shocked him as much as the exhaustion that hit as he crossed the threshold. Izzy lay asleep, surrounded by pillows to support the added weight of pregnancy. The lantern glowed soft on the side table. He selfishly wanted to look upon her before dousing the light. On silent bare feet, he approached her side of the bed and froze. He could see the telltale signs of dried tears on her cheeks.

  His fingers remained a mere hairsbreadth from her skin. Instead of climbing into bed with her as he would have on any other night, he pulled the chair from the window and sat down to watch over her. What had caused her such sadness while he’d been gone that she had cried herself to sleep? How many nights did she do this? Was her happiness in their marriage a mere illusion? Could she be regretting their night together so many months back—the one he thanked the heavens for every morning when his feet hit the floor?

  The sun had long risen by the time her lids fluttered open. She smiled upon seeing him but must have taken in his grave look for she quickly sat up, pulling the mantle up to her chin. “Something is wrong?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “The boys, my parents?” She eased toward him and reached for his hand. “What happened?”

  He brushed his knuckles over her cheekbone. “Tell me why you cry yourself to sleep?”

  Her lips formed an O, and then she blinked several times. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

  Not knowing what she had found out and what it was he was supposed to tell her, he remained silent. When she didn’t add more, he asked, “What did you discover?”

  “Gabriel and Amanda returned home last night.”

  Her reply brought him no closer to learning what she had discovered. “I should think having Amanda back would be a source of happiness, not despair. I thought you two got on well.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me the conversation I overheard all those years ago hadn’t been you at all? Why keep to yourself that your brother and father made sure I heard what they wanted me to hear?”

  “What does it matter?” The truth was, he had put that information so far back in his brain that it hadn’t entered his thoughts since their wedding day. “We found each other again. He didn’t win. We did.”

  She climbed out of bed and onto his lap. His arms wrapped around her, and their babe kicked at his hand. “Settle down, little one. Your mother is fine.”

  Tears pooled again, and she blinked them away. “But, all this time, I blamed you, hated you for something you didn’t do.”

  “Did you hate me yesterday, before my brother opened his big mouth?”

  “Well, no,” she admitted, brushing away a stray tear with the back of her hand.

  “How about last eve when I took your body with mine?”

  She blushed. “No.”

  “We were young. Perhaps too young to understand that what we had was so very fragile.” He placed a kiss on the top of her head. “Had we wed, what would I have had to offer?”

  “Your heart.”

  “I can still offer you that. The last decade has been hard. Brutal, even. But I learned how to stand on my own. I learned how to make a living with my own two hands.”

  “I know.” She laid a single kiss in the center of each palm.

  “I know you do. And I adore you even more for not saying anything.” He paused. “I have had little more than my pride to keep me going, I thank you for allowing me to retain it.”

  “You needed to do this for your family.”

  “A few more weeks, and I should have my father’s debts all paid off.”

  She pulled out of his arms. “You are exhausted. Please hear me out. My time is coming soon, and I need you here at my side. What happens should you be at the wharf when this babe comes? Allow me to pay off the last of the moneys.”

  How he wanted to take her up on her offer. He hated leaving her every night. He longed to climb into bed and sleep at her side for more than a few hours. “One more week. This little one will need to hold off that long.”

  “But you allow Amanda’s money to pay for things. You never argue when she hires new staff or pays for the new roof to the manor.”

  “It’s different.”

  “How so?”

  “I cannot take your money. I did not marry you for it.”

  “I know you didn’t. But I have it all the same. You have proved again and again you are honorable. More so that you love me. Even if you haven’t said the words.” She took a deep breath. “Perhaps I need to say them first. I love you, and I don’t want you leaving our home, our bed, in the middle of the night.”

  “Do you think I want to leave?”

  “It’s time for you to take up the position of the earl, and you can’t do that if you are working yourself into an early grave.” She rubbed her nose against his. “Why one more week?”

  “Because I have already given my word to the foreman.” He hoped she would understand that for so very long the only thing he’d had worth anything had been simply his word.

  “One more week and then you are mine.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But I’m going to restore the cottages for the tenants. Because it’s time they were occupied again. And we need to do some repairs of the manor. As the countess, ’tis my responsibility.” She eased off his lap and led him into the bed. “But my first responsibly is to see to your needs, and sleep is the greatest of those.”

  She tucked him in before sidling up next to him. Now was the time to take the leap, to open himself fully to her. “I have loved you my whole life.”

  “I know. Now get some sleep.”

  Three weeks later, their first son, Adam, came into the world with a loud set of lungs and a desire to let the whole house know he had arrived. Jonathon had done as he’d promised and had worked one last week at the wharf, though William rejected the plan on his end, saying he needed something to do. How could he argue William’s right to earn a living like everyone else?

  To allow Isabel to sleep, Jonathon, with Adam sleeping in his arms, made a morning ritual of walking the grounds. Sometimes, Jonathon would tell his son of his dreams and hopes for the young viscount. Other times, he would wonder on how life could be so good. The brothers occasionally walked with him, sharing their concerns or excitement. One morning, William joined him to announce he planned to save for his own ship, and, perhaps one day, he could be a merchant.

  At the baptism of Adam Railey, Ninth Viscount of Aunton—such a large title for such a little babe—the young lord was surrounded by three godfathers and three godmothers, all of whom had placed a bet as to who would have the first girl and the right to name her Evangeline. The woman had worked magic with the four couples. One bored and afraid there was no one to love her. One believing love was never enough. One whose secrets nearly destroyed a chance of forever. The last had been lost to each other. All four couples were love matches and all proof that with a little guidance true love could be found.

  The Lords and their ladies wondered, as the
y always did when the couples were together, how Madame Evangeline had done managed to bring love to them all and who the mysterious lady really was.

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  Chapter One

  “So you are really going through with it?”

  Lady Elizabeth Hamilton looked at her lady’s maid in the mirror as if she had lost her marbles. “Anna, you told me I should do this.”

  “Now, told might be a bit strong, my lady. I need to be convinced that you have your heart and head set. Because once you do this, there is no going back.”

  Setting her brush on the dressing table, Elizabeth gave her companion a confident smile, though, to be honest, it was false. “Where is there to go back to? I am not likely to get a proposal this season, any more than I have the seven seasons before. I am helplessly on the shelf. It’s not all bad. I get to be myself now. My aunt seems unconcerned that I might live out my life with her in this house.”

  “We all love you, Miss Llysa, even that father of yours does, in his own way. And I know your aunt would love to have you here for as long as you want. But—”

  Grabbing her hand, Elizabeth silenced her friend. “Anna, I plan to become a woman tonight. Tomorrow, no one will know the difference but me and you. If I am lucky, the evening will be as magical as those novels my aunt hides in the corner of her library. If not, then I’ll know that I have at least the knowledge that a woman should have and will be missing nothing by not being wed.”

  “What about the man? What if he decides to talk?”

  “I have to trust Madame Eve. And just in case, I plan to wear this mask.” Llysa held the golden mask aloft, twirling it around by its ribbon. “That way he will never know my identity for sure.”

  Her maid replied with a guarded, “I suppose.”