The Viscount Meets his Match: A Regency Romance

by Raven McAllan

  Whatever Lord Bowie’s wife chose to suggest, David was the senior peer. Therefore, it was no wonder Lord Bowie stared at him goggle-eyed. “It is an informal evening,” David added. “We are not standing on ceremony, as my godmother so recently intimated. A nice touch, don’t you think? Seeing as we are so few.” The word ‘godmother’ felt alien. He much preferred the less formal ‘godmama’, but in that instance decided formality was needed.

  “Ah, yes,” the older man stammered. “You are, of course, correct. Thank you for your offer. So kind of you, your grace, but I best go and see my wife settled first.”

  As if she were a poor wilting flower caught among a large bush of thorns instead of one woman, one grown woman, in a room of only ten people, David thought in disgust as Lord Bowie scurried off. David turned to Lydia.

  “Lyddie, how about you?”

  “Port, please, and I shall help you.” She smiled at the rear of Josephine’s father. “Poor Josephine, what a horrid man. He spent the whole two minutes pontificating about how I must move or I’d be on the shelf. What’s it to him? I held my tongue, but it was hard. Very hard. I need a drink.” She walked swiftly across the room to Josephine and James. “Port for you both?”

  Josephine met David as he caught up with Lydia. “What has my darned parent been up to now?” she asked, resigned to hearing the worst. No doubt railing at her old maid status. How embarrassing. “Do I need to apologize on his behalf?”

  “Never,” David assured her. “He is old enough to apologize for himself when needs be. And on this occasion there is no need. He merely escorted Lydia in and said he had to make sure your mama was settled.”

  Josephine noted the startled look Lydia gave him before that lady muttered, “Port. Come on, James, you may aid me, I cannot carry four glasses.” Lydia took hold of James’ sleeve and almost dragged the poor man to where the decanters were. “I’ll say that Lady F. remembered she’d put her scarf on a chair in here if anyone questions me.”

  “I’m sure he did say something,” Josephine replied quietly once they were alone. “Along with other things that embarrassed Lydia and annoyed you.” She’d watched their faces until they had taken their leave of her papa, and quietly seethed. What had her parent commented about? “I’m so sorry for whatever it was that put that look on your face.”

  “Smile and nod,” David said. “We are being watched. As I intimated earlier, we will talk alone, once we can. If you still trust me?”

  “What?” She smiled as directed and managed a noise halfway between a laugh and a groan. “Oh dear, now people will wonder what you said to me.” The dratted man had a way of making her seem a tongue-tied, simpering idiot. Worse than any young deb newly out. It was aggravating to say the least.

  “A risqué suggestion?’ David raised one eyebrow and stroked his chin. “Well, if you want me to…?”

  Josephine wondered if she had heard aright. “A…?” She spluttered and rocked on her heels. “Er well…” How eloquent, but really, would she even know what a risqué suggestion was?

  He winked again. “There, that worked, didn’t it. You now do not appear to despise me.”

  “I never have despised you,” she hissed as she went hot, cold and hot again. “Stop it now or I will…well, I don’t know what I will do until I do it, but no doubt it would embarrass both of us. I am not known for thinking then acting, more the opposite.”

  David inclined his head. “Your wish, my dear, is my command.”

  “I wish it was, however, I know better.” He might give lip service to that idea, but she’d bet her new reticule that was all it was.

  “Are you two arguing?” James asked as he handed a glass over to Josephine. “Don’t bother, Josephine, he always wins. I just ignore him and do as I prefer.”

  “Liar, you try, and then come to discover I was correct all along.”

  James laughed. “Sadly, that is true.”

  Lydia joined them and passed a glass of port to David. He took it and grinned. “Lyddie, he is maligning me.”

  “Someone needs to.” Lydia turned to Josephine, who was somewhat taken aback by the banter. “I swear he is as ornery as a pig at times, just because he can be.”

  How Josephine wished this ability to rail and tease were something she had experienced. However, her life so far, and her intentions never to marry, had made it difficult to make that sort of friends. She smiled. “No doubt I’ll discover that over the next few days. I shall stand on his toes, hard, if I think it necessary.”

  Lydia giggled and James guffawed as David tried, and didn’t succeed, to look hurt. How good of these three friends to include her in their circle. For the first time in forever, Josephine experienced the warm satisfaction of belonging.

  “Lydia, my dear, will you play for us?” Lady Foster called across the room. “Maybe you and Josephine could take turns.”

  “Duty calls,” Lydia said in a resigned tone. “Shall we do it, Josephine, and get the required entertainment over and done with?”

  Josephine nodded. One more thing she soon would not need to do.

  She could hardly wait.

  * * * *

  The latter part of the evening had passed pleasantly, David decided a short while later. Lydia and Josephine had played the pianoforte, and both he and James had been called upon to sing. He would normally have called it purgatory, but knowing his comrades felt the same as him had helped to alleviate the pain somewhat.

  It was a pleasure to listen to Josephine’s playing, and also her firm refusal to sing, due, she’d said with a laugh, to a voice like a crow with a sore throat. Instead, he’d accompanied her with a couple of airs, then handed over to James.

  As the tea trolley arrived, the four of them exchanged relieved glances and moved to serve their elders. As most people had spent considerable hours on the road to reach Derbyshire, once the cups of the aromatic brew were emptied, the company dispersed.

  David looked at James as the ladies all declared they would head to bed, and the older gentlemen decided they would retire to the library with brandy. “I’m for bed myself.”

  James fluttered his hand over his chest. “Did I hear aright? David Suddards to bed before midnight? Are you ill?”

  David laughed. “Funny man. No. I have a lot to think about, and very little time to put any plans into action.”

  “Josephine?”

  “I have no idea if she has plans to act on or not. I’m not privy to her thoughts,” David replied, as bland as possible. “Only to my own, and believe me they are enough.” He clapped his friend on the back, conscious of the way James stared after him.

  An hour later, David looked at the clock on the mantel of the drawing room of the suite he had been assigned, and mentally counted down to the time he thought—hoped—the servants would be abed and the house silent. The clatter and footsteps of various valets and ladies’ maids had died down several minutes before. James had come up not much later than David, and now the only noise that emerged from his chamber was an occasional snore.

  David checked his appearance. He’d deliberated what to wear. Once he had ascertained that indeed the connecting door was locked and the key missing, he’d debated whether to pick the lock. A swift perusal of the door made him decide that he’d need it oiled first. It probably hadn’t been used in years. The corridor it would have to be, for this visit at least.

  If he was discovered in the corridor—not that there was any reason why he should be—he needed to have a plausible excuse, look the part and not get anyone, i.e. a servant, into trouble for forgetting to do something—like leave him brandy. Thus he was still in shirt and breeches, without a cravat, waistcoat or jacket, and wearing house shoes. He carried a book he’d borrowed from the library earlier. He’d decided, if need be, he would be on his way to the library to change it or back from said room with the book. The age-old explanation of ‘can’t sleep’, ‘need a book, drink, or walk in the gardens’ was well used and probably never believed, but difficult t
o dispute.

  As it was a mere ten steps or so from his chambers to hers, he made it unchallenged. With utmost care, David turned the handle and eased the door open. He had no idea if the main door hinges were kept well oiled on the doors of rooms not in common use. In many houses, those apartments would have their contents shrouded in holland covers until needed, and door furniture might not be quite up to scratch. On more than one occasion, he had heard of attendees at some house party or another being caught out in their nocturnal wanderings by an unoiled hinge or noisy floorboards. Another reason why he had discarded the lock-picking idea.

  He should have known that his godmother, in common vernacular, was up to snuff, and her housekeeping exemplary. No floorboard would dare squeak, and the hinges behaved as only those that were attended to on a regular basis could. He slipped inside and shut the door behind him.

  Josephine looked up from the armchair next to the glowing embers of the fire. It might not be the coldest month of the year, but here in Derbyshire, a fire was often needed to take the chill out of the upper rooms. She had remained dressed—he couldn’t imagine she would have done anything else if he were honest—and had a fine paisley shawl around her shoulders. Old houses had a lot to answer for.

  “I didn’t know whether I should light the lamp or not. I’m not au fait with assignations.”

  David hadn’t seen the meeting in that light until then. In his mind it had been more a declaration of intent. “Do you mind?” he asked. “Is this going to make you uncomfortable?”

  “Not at all,” Josephine replied in a calm manner. “I have a good left hook, and evidently precise aim when needed. Nor would I be afraid to defend myself if I had to.”

  David grinned. “So I have heard—and seen.”

  “Yes, well.” She colored. “Some so-called gentlemen are anything but, and need reminding of their manners.”

  She was correct. David inclined his head. “Not I. I know my manners and generally abide by them.”

  She smiled and her face lit up with amusement. The change was enough to make his body tighten. That carefree, innocent but cheeky look appealed to every part of him.

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  David added more coals to the remains of the fire and stirred them into a cheerful blaze. “If you close the shutters, I will light the lamp,” he said as once more the room was filled with flickering shadows. He’d have liked to have kept it that way, but it was too reminiscent of a scene for seduction to be comfortable. “Then, once we can see without squinting, with your permission, I’ll sit and explain everything.” He waited until she nodded and did as he’d asked and within a few minutes both were seated in armchairs, on either side of the fireplace, with a glass of watered wine. He did his best not to shudder. Why anyone would think such fine wines as his godmother offered had to be diluted he had no idea.

  “Urgh,” Josephine said suddenly. “I hate watered wine.” She put her glass down. “I don’t suppose you brought any brandy with you?”

  David shook his head. “Sorry, no. Why did you ask for watered wine if you dislike it so?”

  She chuckled. “I didn’t, I asked for wine. Period. I imagined if I asked for brandy I would blot my copybook and create a scandal. To be honest, I suspect this is my mama’s doing. Why she seeks to interfere in something so trivial when she pays no attention to anything else, I have no idea, but it is very annoying. For years I was ignored, and now, just as I am about to escape, she notices she has a daughter. So damned irritating. Oh well, I do not have to suffer it for much longer.”

  “You mean you will accept my offer?” His pulse jumped as a certain part of his anatomy recognized all manner of arousing things that could and would occur. It, of course, reacted in a predictable fashion and went from flaccid to rock hard. David strove not to look down as his staff strained the material of his trousers.

  Why did she look aghast? What else could she mean? Surely she hadn’t reacted like that to his erection? In the position in which he sat, it wasn’t that noticeable to an onlooker, just to him.

  David pressed on before she had a chance to protest or disagree. Riding roughshod, perhaps, but she had to hear him out. “Thank you. You have made me a very happy man.” David leaned forward and took her hand in his. “Good lord, your hands are freezing.” As frozen as her expression. He began to chafe them. “I must make sure you don’t have cold hands in future, eh?”

  “No wonder, I’ve just had a shock.” Her jaw dropped and she paled. “Say that again. Not the cold hands bit, I always have cold hands, the ridiculous bit.”

  Ridiculous? Not a good sign. David took a deep breath. “I don’t remember anything of the sort. You said you wouldn’t have to suffer your parents’ interference much longer. I assumed that meant you would remove yourself from their sphere of influence, and thus our betrothal was secured in that manner.” Hell, he sounded like a pompous old man. “After all, you know that is what I desire.”

  “Well, you couldn’t be more wrong,” she snapped. “What about what I desire? You made no mention of that. You, my lord, sound like every other male I have had the misfortune to know. All what they need, want or intend. Never what anyone else has a yen for.”

  That told him. David’s erection disappeared as swiftly as it had appeared and he felt two inches tall. “I…”

  Josephine silenced him effectively as she leaned forward and put her palm firmly over his mouth. Her scent, of roses and something he couldn’t identify, surrounded him. He waited, more amused than irritated now, to see what happened next. If—that word again, if—he ever persuaded her to accept his offer, life would never be dull, that was certain.

  “Let me finish, please,” she said in a less aggrieved manner. “You have had your say, it’s my turn now. I’m afraid you misunderstood me. I meant that in six weeks, I reach four and twenty, and my parents have promised I can retire from society. I intend to hold them to that promise.”

  That was a blow he hadn’t expected. Not only did he have to convince her he would be a good husband, he also had to prove life with him would be preferable to the one she had chosen.

  And all in a few weeks, with only these next days to really press his cause. It wasn’t going to be easy.

  Chapter Seven

  Josephine swallowed and moved her hand from his mouth to her lap with an insouciance that was assumed and showed nothing of the turmoil she experienced. He appeared taken aback by her response to him. “You do understand, don’t you?” she asked. “After all, I have never intimated I would be happy to accept your proposal of marriage, have I?”

  Why was he staring at her in that way? Intent and considering. A strange combination, and one that made her uneasy.

  “Not in so many words, no,” David replied in such a reasonable tone that she bristled.

  Was he not in the slightest bit affected by her reply? Had she imagined that brief expression of hurt?

  “But you haven’t told me you wouldn’t,” he added.

  “Well, how could I? It’s not the sort of thing a young lady can broach, is it? But never have I intimated you are more than an acquaintance.” She didn’t add a thoroughly irritating one, but she hoped he heard the unspoken words. “And after all, you would have to speak to my papa to ask if you could approach me and he would then…” All of a sudden, things fell into place.

  The bloody man.

  “Oh lord,” she groaned. It was that or throw something, and she didn’t think that destroying the nearest thing to hand—a pretty Meissen dish—would go down well with her hostess. “You have, haven’t you?” Unable to contain herself, Josephine jumped up and began to pace the room. “No wonder I’ve had more attention from them these last few days than in the rest of my life.” David also stood and she waved him back into his seat. “Sit down and give me room.”

  He subsided back into the chair and crossed his legs. Such a confident, male thing to do. It raised her annoyance level even higher. “Why do men always sit like that?” sh
e asked. Gah, such a crosspatch I am. Maybe when he sees how glimflashy and peevish I become he will change his mind. However, it was not her normal self and she knew that. “Lord, you bring the worst out in me, my lord.”

  “David,” he said. “‘My lord’ makes me think I’m about to be quizzed on something.”

  “What?” What was he going on about?

  “If you want to rail at me, use my given name,” David said in a patient voice. He grinned and shrugged. “Everyone says ‘my lord’ in such a dismissive manner, I ignore it. If you call me David and then ring a peal over me, I am more likely to listen.”

  “And take heed?”

  “Well, no,” he said apologetically. “Not necessarily. But I will make a considered decision.”

  Josephine snorted. She supposed it was a small concession but it did not go anywhere near far enough. “You are the bane of my life. I suggest you watch my lips.”

  His mouth twitched and his expression immediately changed from innocent to predatory.

  Oh, lord, I let myself in for that. Drat him.

  “Not like that.”

  “How then?” he asked in an innocent, what-on-earth-have-I-done-wrong voice.

  “Argh.” She flung up her hands. “You infuriating man. Listen well. I do not want to marry. You or anyone. Whatever you may have been told to the contrary, I intend to stay single and hold my parents to their word. Before the next season starts, I will be ensconced in my own house and running my own life. Any mistakes I make will be mine alone, any friends will be of my own choosing and anything else because I want it. Do you understand?” She listened to the way her voice rose and swallowed hard. Getting overemotional was not the way to show how determined she was. “I am not the sort of person any man would want to marry. I am opinionated, ornery and hard-headed. I couldn’t be a woman who agrees with everything her husband decrees. Not wife material at all.”

  “You really think that, don’t you?” he said in amazement. “You really think you have nothing to offer a man.”