A Viscount to Save Her Reputation

by Helen Dickson

  An eternity later he lifted his head and looked down at her lovely face upturned to his. ‘Until now I have managed to convince myself that my memory of our kisses, of the passion that erupted between us, was exaggerated. But that kiss surpassed my imaginings.’

  Lucy was silent as her breathing evened out and the sounds of the night began penetrating her senses. Sudden female laughter coming from just beyond the arbour broke caused them to move apart.

  ‘I think we should go inside,’ Lucy whispered. ‘Aunt Caroline will be wondering where I’ve got to.’

  ‘I think Lady Sutton will be happy to know you are with me. However, we will return to the dancing and I would very much like it if you would dance with me.’

  ‘Do you think that would be wise?’

  He raised his brows and smiled wryly. ‘Nothing you and I have done has been wise, Lucy. Let the gossip begin. They’ll see how weak you are and see you can no longer evade my manly charms.’

  Beginning to walk away, she glanced at him coolly. ‘Don’t flatter yourself—and remember that now that my reputation has been redeemed, there are other beaux impatient to dance with me.’

  ‘You will dance with me first.’ He held out his hand. ‘I insist. I happen to have worked very hard tonight on your behalf—the least you can do is dance with me. Let everyone see us together and you will see how easily most minds can be manipulated. It might give the gossip a turn of direction, one they have not expected.’

  Lucy relented and placed her hand in his. As they walked into the ballroom, heads turned as one, every eye focused on them, some filled with curiosity, some with puzzlement. They stepped on to the dance floor, where Lucy walked into Christopher’s arms and felt his right arm slide about her waist like a band of steel, bringing her close against the solid strength of his body. His left hand closed around her fingers and suddenly she was being whirled gently around in the arms of a man who danced the waltz as thought he had danced it a million times before.

  ‘A whole year has passed since I last held you in my arms. It’s as if we have scaled some invisible wall that has kept us apart and now there is no need for impatience. We will wait and let matters run their course.’ Lowering his head to hers, Christopher murmured, ‘Lift up your head, smile at me, look as though you’ve never enjoyed a dance more.’ His eyes twinkled wickedly. ‘You might even flirt with me if you like.’

  Lucy drew a shaking breath and a smile curved her lips. ‘I can smile, Christopher, but flirting is definitely out. Look where it got me before when you danced me out on to the terrace and kissed me.’

  ‘How can I possibly forget? The kiss has been repeated and I am already impatient to repeat the experience.’

  ‘You sound very sure that I will let you.’

  ‘You will,’ he said, twirling her about. ‘Now relax. Your aunt and Amelia appear to have found each other. They have their heads together and are watching us closely.’

  ‘I am relaxed.’

  ‘Your body tells me something different.’

  ‘My body is my own affair.’ She was acutely aware of his hand against her waist and she had a sudden impulse to shy away.

  ‘I would like to know what your body looks like, Lucy.’ His eyelids were lowered over his eyes as he looked down at her upturned face, gently flushed by his remark. ‘I would like to know everything about you, every curve, every hollow and every inviting, secret place.’ He grinned at the shock that registered in her eyes and spun her round more vigorously than the dance required. ‘I am going to be a duke after all.’

  Lucy scowled up at him, seeing sparkling humour in his eyes. ‘You’re loving this, aren’t you?’

  ‘Every minute,’ he admitted shamelessly. Scowling when he saw her glance towards the edge of the dance floor and smile at a group of young beaux who stood in a group watching her, impatient to ask her to dance, he spun her in the opposite direction. ‘You don’t have to smile at every man you come into contact with.’

  ‘Why not?’ she replied, her look one of complete innocence. ‘I was only being polite.’ She laughed lightly. ‘Why, what’s this, Christopher? Are you jealous by any chance?’

  With his lips close to her cheek his voice was hunky and warm, his eyes devouring her with a hunger he did not try to conceal. ‘I am jealous of your every word, thought and feeling that is not about me. I want you, Lucy. It is my dearest wish to make you mine. Don’t waste your time on those young cockscombs. They’re not worth it.’

  Trying to ignore what she saw in his eyes, his lips hovering just above her own, Lucy tried to still her rapidly beating heart. ‘And what of you, Christopher?’ she asked, breathing heavily. ‘Are you worth it? You say you want me. If I were to yield myself to you, would you honour me?’

  ‘Until death,’ he breathed. ‘I have been plagued with thoughts of you since you left. Don’t you know how much of a temptation you are to me—how much I missed you when you were away?’

  ‘How did you miss me, Christopher? Tell me?’

  ‘I missed everything about you. I missed your bright smile, your high spirits and the wild sweetness of you that I have never found in anyone else. I missed you.’

  Her mind reeling over the shock of what he was saying, Lucy could only stare at him as a torrent of emotions overwhelmed her.

  ‘I want you, Lucy,’ he murmured. ‘There is a chemistry between us—has been from the start.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘And I must point out that a young lady should never, under any circumstances, contradict a duke.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to.’

  ‘Not even when I ask you to marry me.’

  Unable to believe what he had said, Lucy felt her surroundings melt into a haze. She was amazed that she carried on dancing. The heady, intoxicating joy that flooded through her body was nearly her undoing. She wanted to say yes, despite her bold determination to become a woman of independence, but she hesitated. His gaze had moved to her mouth, lingering there. He wasn’t smiling any more, his face having taken on a serious expression. After a moment, unable to work out where the proposal had come from, amazed that her voice sounded so calm and controlled, she said, ‘This is all so sudden, Christopher.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’

  ‘Couldn’t you have asked me somewhere else instead of the middle of a dance floor?’

  ‘You have less chance of running away from me here. It would be sure to start another scandal and that is the last thing you want.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘It is not the way I intended to propose, but the truth of the matter is that I have precious little experience when it comes to asking a woman to be my wife.’ He gazed down at her. ‘Have you nothing to say?’

  Lucy had plenty to say, but not while she was dancing a waltz. Besides, it did not take a great deal of intelligence to realise that, considering all that had happened, he felt obliged to offer for her. An awkward silence descended until she at last said, ‘You don’t have to do this, Christopher.’

  ‘What? Ask you to be my wife?’

  ‘Because of what has happened, I suspect you feel obliged to propose to me. It is not necessary to feel that way. I did not expect it.’

  ‘What occurred is in the past and has nothing to do with my proposal. You are in my blood, Lucy. I care for you deeply and I want you in my life.’

  A heady burst of heat flooded through Lucy’s body. It was more than she had ever hoped for, but she was cautious. ‘I might be in your blood, Christopher,’ she said, unable to completely disguise her doubts. ‘That is so very different from wanting me to be your wife. Marriage is important and serious and not something to be undertaken lightly. Forgive me, Christopher, but I’m reluctant to commit myself to you or anyone else just now. Aunt Caroline has gone to an awful lot of trouble in making me a debutante and I want to savour the opportunity a little longer.’

 
Christopher’s expression hardened. ‘And to look over other eligible suitors before you settle on a husband.’

  Lucy smiled up at him obliquely. ‘Oh, don’t be too despondent, Christopher. I promise to consider your proposal along with any other I might receive. You sent me away, remember, and now you say you want to marry me. Pardon me if I appear confused.’

  ‘Yes, I sent you away—but you will never know the strength of will it took to do that. I had to do it. You were young. It wouldn’t have been right to ask you to commit yourself then. I had only recently come to England to accept my inheritance, which was a massive undertaking for me. And I had a duty to Amelia, who, as you saw for yourself, was still deeply affected by what Barrington had done to her.’

  ‘Yes. She’s come through it remarkably well.’

  With a smile he spun her once more as the waltz came to an end. ‘She has—and you are determined to make this difficult for me. I don’t expect you to answer right away—but in the meantime,’ he said, a wicked smiled curving his lips, ‘I will do my utmost to persuade you and enjoy every minute of it. I’m not noted for my patience, Lucy, as well you know,’ he said, looking at her with that all-absorbing attention Lucy had come to know. ‘The die is cast. You will be mine in the end.’

  They were met by Amelia and Lady Sutton, who looked from one to the other.

  ‘I’m so happy everything has been resolved, Lucy,’ Amelia said sincerely. She looked at her brother. ‘I think I would like to leave now, Christopher—if you would order the carriage. I’m quite fatigued with all the dancing.’ She turned to Lucy. ‘On Wednesday of next week, Christopher has promised to take me in a boat on the river and a picnic at Greenwich—he’s so busy that we have to plan these things in advance, you understand.’ She turned to her brother, smiling in anticipation that he would agree to what she had to suggest. ‘Why don’t we all go? It would be such fun. Do you not agree, Christopher?’

  Lucy began to stammer a polite refusal, but Christopher would have none of it.

  ‘That is a splendid suggestion, Amelia. If you would care to join us,’ he said, ‘we would be delighted.’

  ‘Oh—but I don’t think...’ Lucy said.

  ‘I refuse to take no for an answer. It would be such fun,’ Amelia said, beaming. Lucy agreed. ‘Splendid. Then that is settled.’

  They talked some more and arrangements were made for Christopher and Amelia to collect them in their carriage four days hence at ten o’clock.

  They parted company then, Lucy and Christopher trying to give the impression that what had passed between them was nothing more than a friendly meeting. It was a poor pretence. They could not pretend the feelings they had for each other did not exist. But that’s what they did as they went their separate ways.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Well,’ Lady Sutton said when they were in the coach. ‘It turned out to be an enjoyable evening after all. Now, don’t keep me in suspense, Lucy. You and Viscount Rockley spent a great deal of the evening together after everything was sorted out.’

  ‘We have him to thank for that—although I think you already know that. If you really want to know, Aunt Caroline, he asked me to marry him.’

  Lady Sutton was rendered speechless and then she smiled, well pleased with the way everything had turned out. ‘Well—that is good, isn’t it?’

  ‘Is it? I’m not so certain.’

  ‘I might be a bit longer in tooth than you are, Lucy but I am not entirely blind. It is obvious to me that you love Christopher.’

  Lucy could no longer evade the truth. For all her pretended indifference, even the most mindless person could deduce she was utterly and completely and hopelessly in love with Christopher Wilding.

  ‘Yes—I do love him.’

  Lady Sutton tilted her head to a puzzled angle. ‘Then why did you not give him an answer?’

  Lucy shrugged. ‘Because I’m not sure of his intentions. Because of what happened I don’t want him to feel obligated to marry me and I fear he might come to regret his impulsive proposal.’

  ‘Impulsive? He’s had a whole year to think about it. It’s evident that he is a gentleman who appreciates having to fight for what he desires, and, my dear Lucy, it is evident that he very much desires you.’

  Lucy’s heart gave a powerful jolt. ‘His desire for me is something I have never doubted, but it is not his desire that I want, it is his heart that I seek.’

  Lady Sutton gave a slow nod of her head. ‘Ah—I see. Well—this is all so sudden. Of course I had hoped that you would have had more time to enjoy what is left of the Season which so many other girls enjoy and, perhaps, consider more proposals and be courted. But none will come with a higher title than Viscount Rockley’s.’

  ‘I’m not interested in titles, Aunt Caroline—only the man.’

  * * *

  After Lucy’s first appearance in society, the house on Curzon Street was deluged with callers and there followed an intense three days of social functions. Escorted to all the stylish gatherings by Lady Sutton, Lucy’s popularity had increased considerably and she found herself revelling in the fun of it. But the period between the ball and the trip on river was also a time of serious deliberation and heart searching before deciding that, for better or worse, she would become Christopher’s wife. Unable to come to a decision and reluctant to face him again until she was more certain of herself, she tried to find an excuse to get out of the excursion on the river, but Aunt Caroline would not hear of it. The more Lucy was seen in the company of Viscount Rockley the better.

  * * *

  The morning of the excursion dawned sunny and warm—perfect conditions for a trip to the river, Lady Sutton proclaimed, before taking to her bed with a raging headache. Lucy was all concern, telling her she would send a note of apology to Christopher’s address. They would have to turn down the invitation. But Aunt Caroline, determined not to disappoint Amelia, wouldn’t hear of it and was adamant that Lucy should go. Besides, a picnic basket had been prepared. It would be silly to waste it. Lucy had no time to argue for Christopher and Amelia arrived, Christopher looking very elegant in his dark blue coat and matching waistcoat and Amelia looking summery in a lemon dress trimmed with white lace.

  ‘I’m afraid Aunt Caroline isn’t very well—she has developed a headache and taken to her bed.’ She smiled weakly at them both. ‘It looks as though I will have to forgo the trip on the river and a picnic.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Amelia said, frowning with concern. ‘Is there anything we can do?’

  ‘No, thank you, Amelia. She has taken to her bed, I’m afraid. She might feel better when she’s had a sleep. I think I should stay with her. Besides, I hate to intrude on your day out.’

  A sudden gleam entered Christopher’s eyes. ‘You aren’t. We wouldn’t have invited you if we thought that. Besides, the food is prepared. It would be a shame to waste it.’

  Lucy felt her cheeks warm. ‘But—I have no wish to impose on your time.’

  His smile broadened into a grin. ‘It’s no imposition. We insist you come with us. Is that not so, Amelia?’

  ‘Yes. We insist.’

  ‘Good. Now that is settled, fetch your cloak. It might be cool on the river. I cannot tell you how much pleasure it will give me having two beautiful young ladies to escort.’

  Lucy searched his bold visage. ‘Your persistence really does amaze me, Christopher. I’m only thankful that Amelia didn’t go down with something that would have caused her to cancel her presence on the outing.’

  He chuckled, smiling a wicked smile. ‘Why? We might both have enjoyed the outing. However, I promise to be on my best behaviour and as charming as my nature will allow.’

  Lucy cast Amelia a smile. ‘We shall see, won’t we, Amelia?’

  ‘We certainly will. It should prove to be an interesting afternoon.’

  ‘It will be what we make it
,’ Christopher said. ‘Now come along. We are wasting time.’

  The housekeeper appeared carrying the picnic basket and handed it to Lucy, happy that all the work she’d put into it wouldn’t be wasted after all. Seated in the Wilding carriage, with its grey upholstery and the hood down, Lucy experienced a strange exhilaration as they headed for the river.

  * * *

  When they reached the river they left the driver with the carriage to while away the afternoon. Christopher hired a boat and helped Lucy and Amelia in. There was a slight breeze and the water lapped the sides of the boat, but fortunately it was warm and Lucy decided against her cloak. Then he picked up the oars and they were away, moving at a steady speed. They were soon past the Tower of London and on their way to Greenwich.

  The rippling silvered river was busy with every kind of craft—ferries, lightermen and a string of barges heading upstream, the movement keeping the water constantly on the swell. There were lots of people in pleasure boats, all enjoying the warm weather, laughing and calling to each other. Amelia’s mood was carefree and she joined in the fun, waving happily to others when they waved to them.

  Lucy watched Christopher, impressed how easy rowing a boat was for him. ‘I imagine you must feel quite at home on the water, Christopher.’

  ‘Can you smell it?’

  ‘What?’ Lucy asked.

  ‘The salt on the incoming tide.’

  Breathing deep, Lucy could detect a tang on the air—the smell of salt and what she thought might be tar. When Lucy looked at Christopher she saw he was watching them both, a smile curving his lips.

  ‘What is it that makes you smile?’

  ‘I was thinking how adorable you both are, with your pink cheeks and shining eyes. You put me in mind of two children opening their presents at Christmas. Are you enjoying yourselves?’