The Viscount's Wayward Son: A Regency Romance (Ladies of the North Book 2)

by Isabella Thorne

  “I do,” Eliza said, holding on to Anne’s hands. She seemed loath to let her go. “Tell me this much at least. Are you happy, Anne? It seems I have not heard you truly laugh since we left Northwickshire.”

  Since Edmund, was left unsaid.

  Why oh, why did her sister have to bring these things up?

  “I am content,” Anne said after far too long of a pause. “Lord Amberleigh treats me as though I am special to him. I could not wish for a more attentive gentleman, and I should not wish to lose him. It is not often that I am made to feel as though I were something precious. Something worth defending.”

  Someone worth spending time with, she added silently.

  Eliza stared at her sister for a long moment, and then smiled, seeming relieved. “Perhaps I misjudged Lord Amberleigh,” she said softly, ducking her head, “but I shall not admit to it.”

  “I think you are overly protective of me because I have always been protective of you. You are my sister. Be happy for me,” Anne said.

  “Of course, you silly goose!” Eliza said poking her older sister.

  Anne tickled Eliza in retaliation, causing her shriek with laughter. Eliza grabbed a pillow which she used to lob at Anne’s head, strictly in self-defense. Anne ducked, but had to straighten her hat again. “We are sisters. Nothing can get in the way of that. Now…tell me, is my hat straight? I must fly!”

  “You look lovely,” Eliza assured her.

  With that she kissed Eliza again and hurried from the room.

  Downstairs Anne could hear Lord Amberleigh in the foyer. Was he leaving? Had she stayed too long within her room? Worried that he might think poorly of her, she hastened her steps, hurrying down the stairs. She reached the landing, only to trip on the edge of her skirt between the landing and the bottom stair. A grasp for the handrail did not mitigate disaster. Anne stumbled, and could not seem to get her feet properly under her. She fell down several more steps and could no more stop herself than she could have flown. A scream tore from her throat as she felt herself lose the stair entirely, finding only empty air beneath her feet.

  Amazingly, she came to rest not on the hard and unforgiving floor, but against something warm and solid. “It’s alright. I have you,” Lord Amberleigh whispered in her ear. Sweeping Anne up into his arms, and fully carrying her down the rest of the way. Anne struggled to speak past the lump of fear firmly lodged in her throat. He lingered with her in his arms.

  “Th-thank you,” she managed as he bent to deposit her carefully upon her own two feet.

  “Anne, are you all right?” The horror in Alexander’s voice was unmistakable. The staircase was fairly steep. To fall in such a way might have brought grievous injury…or even death. Anne was used to scrapes and falls as a child, but she was visibly shaken.

  Lord Amberleigh kept an arm around her to steady her. She was thankful for the support. Her legs felt uncertain as to whether they would hold her or not. “I think…perhaps…if I could sit down a moment.”

  “Of course.” Lord Amberleigh settled her in the nearest chair, bending low over her in concern. In a moment, he picked up her riding crop from the floor and presented it to her like a scepter.

  Anne laughed, but it was a hollow sound as she took the crop and held it with both hands. “I am fine. Truly. I am sorry to have caused such a bother. I need only a moment, Lord Amberleigh.”

  Anne could not so much as look at him when he was so close like this. Her heart was racing. She could still feel the imprint of his hands upon her body where he had held her. The sensation was…unsettling. Some might say pleasant, but not at all like the captivating delight she had anticipated.

  “It is a blessing I was here. To think of you lying hurt is almost more than I can bear,” Lord Amberleigh said.

  “It was just pure blind luck that you were not grievously injured,” Alexander said, also visibly shaken.

  “Yes,” Anne said a little breathless. Had Lord Amberleigh been watching her descend? He truly was her attentive white knight.

  “It was all happenstance, truly. I am only glad I could catch her before she fell too far. You are sure you are all right? Perhaps we ought to send for a doctor.” Amberleigh said, worriedly.

  “I am fine. Only shaken. Give me but a moment to catch my breath and we shall go riding!”

  The truth was, Anne had recovered from much more troublesome scrapes. Anne’s smile held a hint of bravado. After all, she and Edmund had experienced their fair share of disasters growing up. A simple misstep on the stair would not stop her.

  She remembered falling off her pony rather violently at one point, and when she had suggested they walk back, Edmund asked seriously if she was hurt.

  “No,” she said, shamefacedly. She did not admit, that after the fall, she was scared to remount, but Edmund had seen through her reluctance. “Do you want to be confined to a carriage for the rest of your life?” he said. “Have you turned into a doddering old woman, then?”

  She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

  He had bullied her to get back up and keep riding. Instead of coddling her, he had remounted his own horse, calling over his shoulder, daring her to make the next jump. She had done it, too, and later in the day, she beat him in a race around the lake, although thinking of that day now, he may have let her win just to give her back her confidence. Her pony was considerably smaller and slower than his horse. All in all though, it had been a thoroughly marvelous day, a day she would have missed if she had given up and walked home.

  Edmund again!

  Anne quelled the thought, forcing it down as she looked up into the concerned face of Lord Amberleigh. Why were his eyes always so hard to read? She wasn’t sure if he thought she ought to swoon or whether he would appreciate her resiliency. What did he want from her? She was not sure and she did not know how to act.

  I am who I am, she told herself firmly. With that in mind she stood up a little shakily and tested each of her limbs. “I am fine.” Her smile was more genuine this time. “Shall we be off?”

  “You want to ride? Now?” Amberleigh said, and Anne frowned, confused.

  “Yes, of course. Why not?”

  “We cannot possibly go riding now. You have just had a fright. I think it best if you rest awhile.”

  Anne considered. Did he want to just sit in the drawing room and talk? That would be pleasant too, but she did want to ride. It had been too long since she was on a horse, and she was very much looking forward to today’s ride even if it was just a sedate walk in Hyde Park.

  “I wanted to ride with you,” she said a bit petulantly.

  Amberleigh flashed a smile at her. “I am sure we can ride later in the week.”

  “Yes,” Anne said uncertainly. They could. She knew Lord Amberleigh was only being careful of her welfare. She should not feel so put out.

  “Then, I shall see you later in the week,” he said. “Shall we say Friday?”

  Anne nodded numbly. He was cancelling their ride now, just like that, with barely a by your leave. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she was busy later in the week. She could have other suitors, but that would be a lie. She had entertained no one but Lord Amberleigh. She felt annoyance burning and opened her mouth to speak, but Amberleigh spoke first.

  “Actually…” He shot a look at Alexander who only shrugged uncomfortably. “There is a business matter I hoped to discuss with the duke.”

  Lord Amberleigh turned from Anne to Alexander. “If you would, Your Grace.”

  Alexander was still looking at Anne in concern. “You are sure you are all right, Anne? Emily should be back soon from her outing. If you wish, we can stay…”

  Anne blinked.

  To her surprise, Amberleigh rose, the matter decided. Had he planned to cancel their ride before she had fallen? Anne wondered. She wanted to stomp her foot and scream at him. Instead, she spoke quietly, like a lady.

  “No. Of course not. I mean. I have Eliza after all, and I truly am fine. I am sorry
to have delayed you.”

  Amberleigh was halfway to the door. He simply took Anne at her word. It was Alexander who turned back with a look of concern. “Anne, if I had known you had scheduled a ride, I would not have asked…”

  “I am fine,” she said, with a wan smile, and Alexander nodded.

  The butler closed the door behind them.

  Anne stared for a long time at the closed door after they had gone. Twice a servant came to check on her, twice she sent them away. She felt frozen. A moment ago, she would have kissed Amberleigh. Kissed him. Now, she wanted to curse him.

  Anne could not help but wonder just how important she was to him. Suddenly, his attentions felt false, his flattery just empty words. He did not ask to cancel their ride, he did not beg her leave. He had just assumed that she would not make a fuss, and she had not. He had assumed that his work was more important. Was it? She wondered. Didn’t all men think that way?

  Edmund would not treat me like that. Like some old shoe, to be forgotten and tossed aside.

  But Edmund had, by very virtue of his silence…and his absence.

  The hallway suddenly felt very empty and cold. Anne no longer felt like riding.

  5

  Edmund refused to be late again. This time he arrived at Whites before the rest of his party. He greeted Patton, the new blond footman, as he handed him his hat. When Edmund asked after the man’s friends and family, Patton offered that the previous footman’s wife had been delivered of a healthy son two nights past.

  “Oh, that’s wonderful. Give Berks my congratulations when you next see him,” Edmund said.

  It seemed that it was not just the gentlemen of Edmund’s acquaintance who were getting married and having children. Even the servants seemed to be growing inexorably older. He shook off the feeling of discontent.

  “I shall, Mr. Ingram,” Patton said with a slight bow and a wide grin.

  Edmund decided to wait near the fire rather than in the dining room. His father had given him papers to study, and he thought he may as well tackle the job before his friends arrived.

  “Will you have brandy, or wine?” Patton inquired as Edmund seated himself in a leather winged-back chair.

  Edmund shook his head. “Not now. Just wine with dinner,” he said. “The white was pleasant last time,” he said.

  The footman hesitated. “We have venison and beef,” Patton offered, “as well as pigeon and roast mutton. Will you be having the pigeon, then to go with the white?”

  Edmund shook his head. “Red it is. Claret, I think, with the beef.” His friends would be here shortly, he thought. When the footman left, Edmund turned his attention to the pages his father had assigned like a schoolroom lesson. Rather disgruntled, he only looked up when he realized that someone had approached. He put the pages aside and stood as he realized the newcomer was the Duke of Roswell. At his side was another gentleman Edmund did not know. The fellow was a tall, seemingly dour man with thick eyebrows and a dark visage. Edmund loathed the interruption, but the duke of Roswell was a friend of his father’s and a war hero. He could not slight the man.

  “Your Grace,” Edmund offered with a bow.

  The man waved aside Edmund’s appellations. “Mr. Ingram,” the duke said. “You are just the man I wanted to see.”

  Edmund’s eyebrow went up in surprise, but he said nothing. He would expect the duke to wish to speak to his father, but not to him. He could see no reason for Roswell to take the slightest interest in him.

  “Your father speaks highly of you,” the duke added.

  Now that really was a surprise. “I am honored,” Edmund said.

  “He tells me we will have a new Tory vote one day when you follow your father in parliament.”

  “Hopefully, that occurrence is many years away,” Edmund said. He did not comment on his own political aspirations.

  “Yes, of course, but so many of these new young peers are enamored of the liberals. Not you, eh?” The duke fixed Edmund with a stare. Uncomfortable committing to a vote he was not yet eligible to cast, Edmund caught the eye of the footman and gestured for brandy, buying time.

  “My family has been conservative for generations,” he said somewhat evasively. “I see no reason to change that. At least not now.”

  “Good. Good,” the Duke of Roswell said with a nod. He turned to introduce Edmund to the man at his elbow. “This is Mr. Edmund Ingram, the eldest son of the Viscount Kentleworth,” the duke said. “His father and I were great friends at Oxford. “Mr. Ingram, may I present, Lord Amberleigh?” He nodded towards the stranger. “I told Amberleigh that you two gents should have much in common,” the duke said rather pleased with himself.

  “Pleasure,” Edmund said smiling as he reached out to shake the man’s hand.

  “Indeed, I would venture to say that Mr. Ingram hardly needs an introduction.” Amberleigh flashed a toothy grin. “My ears are still filled with his name and exploits. Miss Anne Albright has spoken of you.”

  “Has she?” Edmund asked, wondering how Amberleigh knew Anne. Edmund looked to the duke for some clue and found none. “That is …good to hear,” he said somewhat cautiously.

  “Ingram grew up with your Miss Albright,” the duke offered to Amberleigh, “in Northwickshire, Bramblewood’s district.”

  The smile fell from Edmund’s face, certainly from his eyes, if not from his lips. He did not like Roswell calling Anne, ‘your Miss Albright’ in connection with Amberleigh, but he could not contradict a duke. The man was his father’s friend. With effort, Edmund forced the smile back on his face.

  “You are friends with the new Duke of Bramblewood as well, are you not, Ingram?” Roswell asked.

  Now, Edmund understood. Roswell was jockeying to see how Alex would vote, probably on the very issues that Edmund’s father had pointed out in the papers he laid aside when the duke and Amberleigh had joined him.

  “Yes, Your Grace. Since we were children.” Edmund said to Roswell, before turning to Amberleigh. “I was not aware that you and Miss Albright knew each other,” he said. Surely the man was not so familiar as to call Anne, his. When had such a thing occurred? Perhaps the duke was misinformed.

  “We have formed an acquaintanceship.” Amberleigh’s eyes flashed and he once again gave Edmund a smile that looked like a baring of teeth. Edmund tightened his jaw.

  “I trust you are not put out in any way.” Amberleigh’s tone said that putting Edmund out was exactly his intention. Edmund consciously loosened the tightness of his jaw as the man continued. If he did not relax his teeth might break.

  “Bramblewood said that you were all friends since childhood.” Amberleigh hesitated as if choosing his words carefully; probably for the most vitriol, Edmund thought. He was not wrong. “I understand that childhood friends may hold some protectiveness for one another.”

  “I shall always feel protective of Miss Albright.” Edmund tried to keep his tone light, but was finding it a struggle. There was something about the way Amberleigh spoke that put his back up. But Edmund’s gaze didn’t so much as waver, nor, he hoped, did it give any clue as to his true feelings. “The Albrights are friends of the family and the Albright sisters are close companions to my own sister, the current Duchess of Bramblewood.” He explained.

  It couldn’t hurt to inform Amberleigh that Anne was socially well-placed as was Edmund himself. To be thought of as a close family friend might construe a relationship where there was none. But there should be, Edmund thought. There was no true relationship between them; only that his sister was Anne’s best friend. And he was her friend. The hot blood rushing through his veins begged to differ when he thought of her as only a friend. “I spent a lot of time in the country at the estate of my Uncle Cecil, the Earl of Straton,” Edmund said.

  “Lord Straton does not attend parliament regularly, does he?” Amberleigh asked.

  “He does not,” Edmund agreed.

  “A pity,” Roswell added.

  “My uncle prefers the country, but he is not
ill-informed and he is as conservative as my Father.” Edmund threw the comment to the Duke of Roswell to assuage his curiosity about how Alexander might vote. “My Uncle Cecil was somewhat of a mentor to us. As children, we all holidayed there together in the summers: that is the Duke of Bramblewood, my sister Emily and the Albright sisters.”

  “Well then.” Amberleigh said, clapping Edmund on the shoulder harder than was strictly necessary “You must tell me of Miss Albright sometime.”

  Edmund most certainly would not. To allow such an impression would be a cause for gossip and speculation. Anne did not deserve that, whatever this lout thought of her. Edmund suddenly wanted to hit the man. There was no reason for such a violent reaction and Amberleigh was obviously in the duke’s good graces. His father would be furious if he offended Roswell.

  Edmund bit his lip and smiled at the wretch. He was sure it did not reach his eyes. He looked to the duke and tried to ignore Amberleigh entirely. This was a test of the diplomacy his father was trying to teach him. He did not want to offend the duke, but he would not let Amberleigh play him for a fool. Edmund decided to try to turn the conversation back to less personal matters. He looked pointedly at Roswell. “I am sure you are hoping for a favorable vote, as is my father,” Edmund said. “We have discussed the matter at length. I fear I have found time for little else.”

  “Yes. Miss Albright mentioned that you had neither the time nor the inclination to pursue a relationship with serious intent,” Amberleigh put forth.

  Edmund could not quite decide if Amberleigh’s tone was mocking or not, but took himself in hand. It was likely that this poor excuse for a gentleman was simply paraphrasing Anne, expressing her sentiments if not her words. Anne would not speak of him disparagingly. Would she?