Weddings and Scandals: Regency Romance Collection

by Alec, Joyce

  His smile transformed his face. “But I could not have done so without you,” he said honestly, coming over to her and holding out both his hands to her. “You took the journal and I was terribly afraid that you would think it was mine.” Shaking his head, he gave her a ragged smile. “I should have trusted that your intelligence and wit would show you the truth.”

  “I could never have believed it was yours,” she replied, grasping his hands tightly, wanting him to know just how deeply she felt. “Even though I was confused and troubled by all that had gone on, even though I did not understand everything, I knew without doubt that you were not the sort of man to do such dreadful things.” Her stomach tightened at the memory, her smile fading. “Lord Brentwood was able to present such a polished façade to the beau monde, and yet I always knew there was something about him that I did not like. I could not tell you at the time what it was precisely, but I did not favor him.”

  “You have good instincts,” Lord Glenister suggested with a sad smile. “I did want to tell you everything, Miss James, but I knew I could not. I was desperate to protect you, to keep you away from Lord Brentwood entirely. And yet I found myself completely and utterly dependent on you—on your wisdom, your ideas and your determination.” His eyes grew warm. “Although some gentlemen might consider such dependence on a lady to be a mockery of their own strength and character, I find that I am more than happy to have been able to do so. You are extraordinary, Miss James.”

  She smiled up at him, remembering just how grateful he had been to hear her ideas of how to bring the whole matter to a close. He had not rejected her ideas simply because she was a woman, as so many other gentlemen might have done. Instead, he had listened, accepted them and done nothing but compliment her since.

  “I must make sure also to thank Miss Smythe,” she said, her eyes twinkling up at him. “For had she not told me about Lady Jersey and her name of ‘Silence’, then I might never have thought of the idea.”

  Lord Glenister laughed, his hands tightening on hers. “Lady Jersey herself does not appear to be greatly displeased by the nickname,” he commented jovially. “She seems all too aware of her penchant for gossip and rumor.”

  Charlotte shrugged. “One of the blessings of being in the higher classes of nobility, I should think,” she replied with an easy smile. “And she has a good deal of influence, so I should not think it would matter to her in the least what was said of her. Although…” She considered for a moment, her thoughts drifting back to the lady and how strongly she had spoken to Lord Brentwood. “Although, I must say, I think I have a good deal of respect for her. She did everything we asked of her and was most gracious about it. If not for her, then we would still be struggling with Lord Brentwood.”

  Lord Glenister smiled, let go of one of Charlotte’s hands and reached up to smooth back a stray tendril from her temple. Despite herself, Charlotte felt herself tremble in response to his touch, her eyes closing of their own accord as he brushed his forefinger gently down her cheek.

  “You are, as I have said before, extraordinary, Miss James,” Lord Glenister murmured, his voice laden with emotion.

  “I recall you have said so before,” Charlotte responded, opening her eyes to see him looking down at her with such passion burning in his gaze that it stole her breath from her.

  He chuckled softly. “I did. That seems to be my word of choice when it comes to describing you, Miss James. I have used it so many times that it gave me away.” His hand cupped her chin for a moment. “Although I do not regret either stealing a kiss in the gardens nor using the very same words to reveal myself to you.”

  She swallowed, feeling almost dizzy with the tumultuous, passionate emotions that he roused in her. “I could not get that kiss from my mind,” she admitted, her voice breathless. “Nor you.”

  “I am glad to know that,” Lord Glenister replied, his eyes twinkling. “For I confess to you now that I have never stopped thinking of you since the day you stood between myself and my attackers.” His expression grew serious as he leaned closer. “I have never felt such an extraordinary attachment to anyone before, Miss James. I did not want to feel it, for I had always thought myself unwilling to even consider matrimony, but no matter how much I tried to forget you, my heart would not allow you to leave. Even now, it grows with an affection for you that I cannot hide.”

  Charlotte closed her eyes, aware that tears of happiness were forming behind her closed lids. “I feel much the same, Lord Glenister,” she promised. “I did not know what it was to love and yet now I find my heart so filled with that inexpressible emotion that I do not know how to find the words to share it with you.”

  “Then mayhap you do not need to express it in words,” he murmured, holding her close and wrapping his arms about her waist. “Mayhap there are other ways that one might show their love for another.”

  Charlotte smiled and lifted her face for his kiss. “Mayhap there is, Lord Glenister,” she whispered. “And let me do so now.”

  Epilogue

  “Wickton?”

  Charlotte hid a smile as her brother sighed heavily and lifted his eyes from the papers he had been scouring. “Yes, Charlotte? What is it?”

  “I have something of import to talk to you about.”

  “Oh?” He did not look at all interested, his eyes darting back towards the paper in his hand. “It is not a grave matter, I hope?”

  Charlotte looked over her shoulder and grinned at Lord Glenister, who was standing just outside the door, waiting for his cue to enter. “It may be,” she admitted, looking back at her brother. “Although it seems you are thoroughly engrossed in what you are reading, so mayhap I will return another time.”

  Lord Wickton put down his papers with a weary sigh, looking at Charlotte with a discontented expression. “It is most extraordinary, what is in the papers today, Charlotte. That is the only reason for my seeming lack of interest.”

  Charlotte nodded, knowing all too well what had been written within. “I understand.”

  “Please, sit down,” Wickton said, gesturing to a vacant chair. “Do you have plans to return to the estate or some such thing? I know you have your freedom now to do as you please, which means that I can say nothing about what you can or cannot do.” He rolled his eyes and Charlotte had to bite her lip hard to keep from laughing.

  “Please, Wickton, do not be cross with me about that,” she said as calmly as she could. “I kept our side of the agreement, did I not? I attended the ball. I spoke to as many of the gentlemen as you sent my way and danced with them all. Although,” she added, as a slight aside, “it did not mean that I was easily able to remember their names, for I met Lord Davenport recently and had forgotten him. It was just as well that Miss Smythe was present, else I should have found the entire situation remarkably embarrassing.”

  Her brother frowned. “Miss Smythe?”

  Charlotte, deviating from her intentions for a moment, nodded. “Yes. Lord Davenport seemed taken with Emily, I must say. They seemed to get along very well, for which I was exceedingly glad.”

  Lord Wickton frowned hard, his eyes drifting away from Charlotte for a moment or two. Charlotte, surprised at her brother’s reaction, waited quietly without speaking another word, wondering what it could be that her brother was thinking.

  “Well, at least she has found a way to garner the specific attentions of well-mannered, well-suited gentlemen,” Lord Wickton stated with a touch of frustration. “I do wish you could do the same, Charlotte. It is getting ridiculous now. We shall have to return home in a few months and thereafter, it shall be another year before the next Season—unless we attend the little Season in the winter months, of course. Not that the little Season is particularly favorable, of course. There are fewer gentlemen and ladies around at such a time and I should not want you to appear desperate, Charlotte.” He was droning on now, clearly lost in his own thoughts and not giving any consideration to the fact that he was breaking his part of the agreement with Charlotte.
“I do not want you to remain a spinster, Charlotte, that is all.”

  Charlotte hesitated, not certain whether she should point out to her brother that he had done precisely what he had promised he would not. Before she could say anything, however, the chance was taken from her as Lord Glenister walked into the room and settled a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder.

  “Good gracious!” Lord Wickton exclaimed, getting to his feet at once as Charlotte remained where she was, twisting her head to look up into Lord Glenister’s face. “Whatever are you doing here, Glenister? I did not know you intended to call upon me this afternoon.” His gaze drifted towards Charlotte’s shoulder, his eyes widening in surprise. “I—I do not understand what all this means.”

  Charlotte laughed and shook her head, getting to her feet and reaching for her brother’s hand. “I will admit that it came as something of a shock to me also.”

  Lord Wickton gaped at her, his eyes widening with understanding. “Surely, you cannot mean that…” He trailed off, his hand going loose in Charlotte’s. “After all this time, can it be that you have found yourself a suitor?”

  Charlotte laughed again, her eyes bright as she looked affectionately at her brother. “You cannot believe it, I know, but it is true.”

  Lord Wickton shook his head, let go of her hand and then reached to shake Lord Glenister’s hand, as though he wanted to make sure that the fellow was actually present and not just a figment of his imagination.

  “I am very happy to hear of this,” Lord Wickton said delightedly, pumping Lord Glenister’s hand up and down as his expression of profound shock changed to one of utter glee. “I would never have believed it had Charlotte simply come to inform me of this news without the supposed gentleman being present—but since you are here and shaking my hand, Lord Glenister, then I think I have no choice but to believe it.”

  A trifle offended, Charlotte shook her head at her brother’s words, although seeing the happiness on his face made her heart lift all the more. She knew all too well that his concern for her had come from his kind heart and not from any desire to push her from his responsibilities, even though she had thought such a thing at one time.

  “I am glad you appear to be so content with your sister’s choice of suitor,” Lord Glenister replied with a wink in Charlotte’s direction. “You will allow me to marry her, will you not?”

  Lord Wickton’s answer roared across the room. “Of course!” he exclaimed, his eyes alight with happiness. “This is wonderful! You shall be wed just as soon as you wish, Charlotte.”

  Lord Glenister smiled at Charlotte, his gaze warm and filled with promise. “Then you do not think me a poor choice, I hope?” he said, again addressing Lord Wickton.

  Thankfully, Lord Wickton stopped shaking Lord Glenister’s hand and laughed uproariously, as though the man had said something truly ridiculous.

  “No, no indeed!” he exclaimed, spreading his arms wide as though he wanted to embrace both Charlotte and Lord Glenister. “A marvelous choice, Charlotte. I should congratulate you on your wisdom, I suppose.” So saying, he walked to the small table at the side of the room and poured two glasses of brandy, although when he saw Charlotte’s raised eyebrow, he went back to fetch another—although smaller—measure for her.

  “To your very good health,” Lord Wickton said, raising the glass in Lord Glenister’s direction. “And may you continue to find yourself in such fine fettle in the years to come, no matter how determined or trying or difficult my sister proves to be.”

  Charlotte opened her mouth to protest ardently at this comment, only for Lord Glenister to chuckle and pull her close, his arm about her waist. “I will tell you now, Wickton, that I find your sister’s courage, intelligence, and sureness to be very fine traits in her character. In fact, it was those that drew me to her in the first place, when I was lying up in your guest room.”

  Charlotte’s eyes widened as she saw her brother’s face fall, his smile crashing to the floor. She had forgotten that Wickton did not yet know the full story about Lord Glenister’s troubling time with Lord Brentwood.

  “That was you?” Lord Wickton gasped, one hand now at his heart. “The man lying injured in our guest bedchamber?”

  Lord Glenister nodded, darting an uneasy glance towards Charlotte.

  “There is a good deal to explain, Wickton,” Charlotte said hastily. “And mayhap now is not the time to do so. Perhaps we might begin to discuss things over dinner?”

  Her brother slowly turned towards her, his eyes dragging away from Lord Glenister. “I suppose that could be arranged,” he said, looking at her with a degree of confusion. “Just so long as you are certain nothing is wrong, Charlotte.”

  Charlotte smiled, reaching for her brother’s hand to reassure him. “There is nothing wrong at all, Wickton. I promise. Although…” She trailed off, trying to hide her grin.

  “What?” her brother exclaimed, now appearing frantic. “What is wrong, Charlotte?”

  “Well,” she began, tipping her head to regard her brother as a knowing smile began to cross her face. “You did manage to break your agreement, Wickton. You are aware of that, are you not?”

  The color slowly began to drain from Lord Wickton’s face. “But that does not matter now, surely?” he protested, letting go of her hand. “You are to be married. You can have no reason to force your consequences upon me.”

  For a moment, a vision of Emily’s pleading face appeared in Charlotte’s mind. Her friend was, for whatever reason, caught up with her brother but she could not be certain that her brother would return Emily’s feelings. Would it be best to allow them to try and find happiness together by forcing her brother to accept her consequences? Or should she allow them both to find their own way?

  “I think, Wickton,” she said eventually, “that you shall be freed from my consequences, given the circumstances.” She chuckled as she saw her brother’s evident relief. “But only on one condition.”

  “And what is that?” he asked anxiously, his eyes searching her face.

  Charlotte smiled at him, silently praying that he would find the same happiness that she had with Lord Glenister. “You must try to bring out my dear friend Miss Smythe a little more. She is an unwilling wallflower whose father cares very little for her and you know how very dear she is to me. Given that I shall be wed within the month and then away on honeymoon for some time, it is important to me that she is not without friends. Do say you will try, Wickton. All you need do is dance with her upon occasion, seek her out for conversation or ask if she would like to join a hand of cards… that sort of thing.”

  Her brother looked even more relieved, pulling out a handkerchief to mop his brow. “I would be glad to do such a thing,” he promised, giving her a slight bow as though this would reassure her of his intentions. “Now, if you will excuse me for a moment, I must inform the butler at once that you are to be staying for dinner, Lord Glenister. Thereafter, I must put a notice in the papers. Goodness, there is so much to be done.”

  Charlotte laughed aloud as her brother hurried from the room, turning in Lord Glenister’s arms to look up into his loving face. “He has taken the news rather well, I think.”

  “Very well indeed,” Lord Glenister agreed, holding her close. His voice softened, his gaze becoming tender as he began to lower his head. “You wish to wed within the month, then?”

  “I do,” she replied, the laughter disappearing almost at once to be replaced with a strong, urgent passion and a fierce and abiding love. “I cannot wait to be your wife, Glenister.”

  “Nor can I wait to be your husband, Charlotte,” he replied, his eyes aglow with the love he had for her. “I shall love you more with every passing day, if such a thing is possible. You have become everything to me. I love you so very much.”

  “As I love you,” she whispered, before tilting her head up for his kiss.

  * * *

  The Viscount’s Heart

  Weddings & Scandals

  The Viscount’s Hear
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  Text Copyright © 2019 by Joyce Alec

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First printing, 2019

  Publisher

  Love Light Faith, LLC

  400 NW 7th Avenue, Unit 825

  Fort Lauderdale, FL 33311

  1

  Nineteenth Century, London

  It had been a year since Viscount Arthur Wickton had been in London. A year since he had last enjoyed the conversation, the dancing, and the frivolity that came with the summer Season—and a year since he had made a promise to his sister, Charlotte. That promise had been a simple one: that he would do his best to ensure that Miss Emily Smythe, his sister’s dear friend, was not left to wilt away, lost amongst the other wallflowers that clung to the walls and staircases of London town.

  However, he had not done very well there, for he certainly had not ensured that Miss Smythe was no longer a wallflower, but a sought-after young lady. In his defense, he had been caught up with his sister’s upcoming nuptials to Lord Glenister. Once that wedding had taken place and he had seen Charlotte off on her honeymoon with a smile and a wave, Arthur had not thought to return to London. Instead, he had found himself weary and so had remained at his estate. Initially, he had planned to simply be there for only a few days—a sennight at most, but he had then become caught up in one thing after another regarding the business of his estate and so the time had gone from him.