by Joyce Alec
Nodding and not quite certain what else he ought to say, James waited for Lord Cuthbert to continue, seeing how the older man looked at him steadily, a slight flicker in his eyes.
“I want to know what your intention is for Mr. Statton.”
Lord Cuthbert’s voice had dropped and there was an edge to his tone that unsettled James somewhat.
“He is in your house and therefore, I am not at liberty to put a hand on him, but he is also my relation and therefore I feel obliged to ensure that he gains his punishment,” Lord Cuthbert continued, his hands twisting together in his lap. “He tried to kill my daughter, Lord Carrick.” His expression grew tense. “He stole my wife’s rubies. He did all he could to convince us that we had lost our daughter, with the sole intention of gaining her dowry. There is a requirement for punishment, for severe consequences to fall upon his head and I would know what your intentions are.”
James hesitated, seeing the dark flicker in Lord Cuthbert’s eyes and wondering at it. He had not quite decided what ought to be done with Mr. Statton and, as such, had asked Lord Ancrum to join him so that they might discuss it. It had only been by chance that Lord Cuthbert had come to the study at that precise moment.
“Might I ask what you think should be done, Lord Cuthbert?” Lord Ancrum asked, perhaps seeing the hesitation in James’ expression and wanting to give him a few more moments to think. “He is, as you say, your relative.”
Lord Cuthbert grimaced, his eyes now looking towards Lord Ancrum. “These matters are, as you know, usually left to the nobility to decide for themselves, but I cannot pretend that I can think clearly when it comes to Mr. Statton and what he has done.”
“No,” James agreed slowly, a little surprised at the man’s perception. “I will not pretend that what I saw of him did not strike within me a fierce and furious anger that I do not think can ever truly be gone from me. I wanted to strike him down, Lord Cuthbert, for the way that he grasped onto Miss Preston in an attempt to force her to go with him.”
Lord Cuthbert’s jaw set hard but he nodded slowly, aware of what was being said. “I do not want to be overly harsh, but I feel that the only thing he deserves is to swing,” he said bluntly. “The man tried to kill my daughter and thereafter, your brother, Lord Carrick. What is there we can do?”
James hesitated again, chewing his lip for a moment. “We might give him to the Bow Street runners,” he said after a moment, seeing how Lord Cuthbert frowned. “It would garner more attention than if we dealt with the matter quietly, however.”
“And it does not have a promise of proper punishment,” Lord Cuthbert added, rubbing his chin with one hand as his eyes took on a faraway look, clearly thinking hard. “The Bow Street runners do not like to involve themselves in matters of the gentry and the like, do they?”
Lord Ancrum shook his head. “No, they do not,” he agreed. “But they would take him on should it be asked of them.”
There was silence again for a few minutes, leaving James with the growing awareness that he himself would not be satisfied to hand Mr. Statton over to the Bow Street runners. There was no guarantee of a proper and just punishment and Mr. Statton might even be permitted to return home with nothing more than a warning. Lord Ancrum was quite correct to state that the Bow Street runners did not like to involve themselves in matters involving the nobility, for it could often come with consequences for the runners themselves.
“I do recall,” Lord Ancrum said slowly, his eyes lifting to James’, “that when there was the matter with Lady Starling, the only suggestion we had was to send her to the continent.” He shrugged as James began to nod. “She was, of course, a lady of the ton and could not be treated as some without a title might be, but it was a punishment in itself. Once she arrived, she was given employment and could not continue to go about her life as she had once done. Nor can she ever return to England. Is that not something we might consider for Mr. Statton?”
James looked quickly towards Lord Cuthbert and saw him nodding. It was an excellent idea and one that would remove Mr. Statton from their lives—and from these shores—altogether.
“I have it,” Lord Cuthbert announced, although with no hint of joy or expectation in his words. “I have some holdings on the continent—small, I confess, for I have not yet had opportunity to further my interests there. I shall send Mr. Statton to that holding with the strict instructions that he is to be treated no better than any other who works there.” He nodded again, more fervently this time, as though he knew all too well what such a living would be like for Mr. Statton and was convincing himself that this would be a just punishment. “He will go there and my steward shall accompany him. My steward will remain there until he is satisfied that all is understood as regards Mr. Statton and then shall return to England.” Lifting his head a little, his expression cleared and his eyes became steady. “What say you to that, Lord Carrick?”
Letting out a long, slow breath, James nodded quickly. “Yes, I think that would be an excellent prospect,” he agreed, thinking that there would be nothing better than to have Mr. Statton as far away from Henrietta as possible. “And it would ensure that he pays for the many disasters he has attempted to rain down upon your family, Lord Cuthbert.”
Lord Ancrum cleared his throat, picked up his brandy glass, and threw it back in one large swallow. He then stood and inclined his head towards Lord Cuthbert. “If you will excuse me, I shall go and inform Mr. Grieves of our decision, Lord Cuthbert. He will want to know.”
“And thereafter, you will speak to Lady Ancrum also?” James enquired, his heart quickening as he realized that his friend was leaving him with Lord Cuthbert. It was time for another matter to be brought to the gentleman’s attention.
“I shall indeed,” Lord Ancrum said with a quick wink in James’ direction. “Have no fear, Lord Carrick, I shall ensure that the ladies are all fully aware of what is to happen next.” And with that, he departed and left James to stand with Lord Cuthbert, not at all certain what he ought to say next. There was so much in his heart, so much that he wanted to express, but still the words would not come to him.
Thankfully, it seemed as though Lord Cuthbert had something of his own to say, for the very moment Lord Ancrum left them, the man pinned James with a firm gaze and pointed one long finger at him.
“I have something else I wished to discuss with you, Lord Carrick, although I must begin by promising you that I have no concern as regards your behavior towards my daughter,” Lord Cuthbert began, a trifle hesitantly. “It is only now that I fear there may be some damage to her reputation, for there will have been some who witnessed what occurred between her and Statton on the street, as well as your defense of her.”
James nodded, having told Lord Cuthbert about what had happened previously. “That is so,” he agreed quietly, looking the gentleman directly in the eye, unwaveringly. “But that does not mean that I fear any rumors will come in my direction, Lord Cuthbert. Rather, I would like to meet them head on.” He took in a long breath, seeing how Lord Cuthbert frowned suddenly and worrying that this meant he would not be accepted. “I should like to marry your daughter, Lord Cuthbert.”
There was nothing but silence for a long moment, with Lord Cuthbert staring blankly at James without saying a word. Then, much to James’ astonishment, the older man broke out into a broad smile, throwing his head back and laughing with delight, his hands thrown up in exclamation.
“I take it, then, sir, that you approve of my proposal?” James asked as Lord Cuthbert got to his feet, thrusting out one hand towards James, who also rose from his chair. “I swear to you that I have nothing but the best of intentions for your daughter. I have found her to be courageous, determined, and utterly lovely, despite the difficulties that have been flung at her. She is extraordinary and I cannot imagine a day spent without her.”
“I heartily agree to your proposal!” Lord Cuthbert exclaimed, shaking James’ hand as his smile grew all the more. “I had concerns as regards my daughter�
�s reputation, but to know now that she will be your wife has quite brought such worries to an end.” He frowned suddenly, the smile dying from his face. “But are you quite certain she will accept you? She has not been particularly eager to consider matrimony before—although,” he continued, wincing, “that may very well be due to the fact that we pushed Statton toward her.”
James chuckled, making the dark expression lift from Lord Cuthbert’s face. “Lord Cuthbert, I can reassure you on that front, at the very least, for I have already asked her to marry me and she has already accepted.” He grinned as the man exclaimed with delight again and pumped James’ hand up and down for another few moments.
“Quite wonderful, quite wonderful!” he cried, before letting James’ hand go and hurrying towards the door. “I must tell Lady Cuthbert at once, Lord Carrick. It will bring a joy to her despondent and sorrowful heart; I am quite certain of it.”
“Then I shall attend with you,” James replied, following the eager Lord Cuthbert and finding himself still chuckling over the older man’s change in spirits. “And thank you, Lord Cuthbert, for your gracious acceptance.”
“No,” Lord Cuthbert replied, stopping and putting one hand on James’ shoulder, his countenance suddenly serious. “Thank you, Lord Carrick, for all you have done for my daughter. You have saved her life, and for that, I shall always be grateful.”
Epilogue
“It appears as though they are quite content!”
Henrietta laughed up into Lord Carrick’s face, seeing his teasing smile and the tenderness in his eyes.
“I should think so,” she agreed, leaning into him and smiling as he wrapped one arm about her shoulders. “My mother especially, I think, feels a good deal of relief, for she has always worried about me.” Grimacing suddenly, she shook her head. “Especially since she has realized the truth about Statton and how he managed to manipulate her. I believe that she blames herself entirely when, even though it was misguided, it came from a place of love.”
Carrick smiled down at her as they meandered slowly toward the library, knowing that the others would follow within a few minutes. Dinner had been a wonderful affair and Henrietta could not remember a time when she had ever been so happy. Her parents had lost that sad air that had accompanied them when they had first walked into Lord Carrick’s house, and there had been so much laughter and elation that she had felt her own heart heal itself from all the wounds that had been torn into it of late.
Statton had been kept under guard in one of the bedchambers until arrangements could be made for his passage and Oliver had been able to join them for dinner also, seemingly entirely recovered from his ordeal. Lord and Lady Ancrum would return home later this evening whilst her parents remained here so that wedding plans could be made just as quickly as possible. And now, she was able to enjoy a few minutes alone with the man that she had come to love so very dearly. The day that had started off with despair and sorrow had ended with joy and overwhelming happiness which Henrietta knew would spread into the rest of her life.
“You have a gentle and forgiving heart, my love,” Lord Carrick said gently, opening the door for her and stepping inside, only to slip his arms about her waist and pull her back towards him. His lips were at her neck, his breath tickling across her cheek, sending rivers of excitement rushing through her. She leaned back against him, sighing contentedly and closing her eyes at the sheer pleasure that ran through her at being in his arms.
“You are kindness itself, Carrick,” she replied, feeling his lips brush her neck, then her cheek. Turning around, she waited until they found her mouth before kissing him back with all the passion and love that was within her. “I cannot believe that I am to be your wife, for such happiness I never thought could be mine.”
“I am the one who is grateful,” he replied, his forehead resting gently against hers. “You have awoken feelings in me that I have never even felt before. My heart has learned what it is to love, Henrietta, and it has filled with such a fierce love for you that I shall never be able to be gone from your side.” Smiling gently and looking deeply into her eyes, he lifted one hand and brushed it over her cheek, making her shiver at his tender touch. “The day I make you my wife shall be the happiest day I have ever known.”
“As will it be for me also,” she told him, her hands reaching up around his neck and pulling herself closer to him. “You saved my life, Carrick. Had you not stumbled across me at the docks, then I do not know what would have become of me.” She shook her head gently, remembering how she had woken up in a bedchamber she did not recognize. “And from the first, you showed me nothing but sympathy, understanding, and compassion. You did not try to press your advantage or behave in a manner unsuitable for a gentleman. Instead, you were everything that I needed—and now I realize that I need you to be with me every day. I love speaking with you, laughing with you, hearing what you have to say, and feeling my heart ache with love for you, Carrick.”
He bent his head and gave her a long, lingering kiss, sending sparks through her that seemed to set her on fire. Henrietta knew her heart was filled with none but him and that he loved her desperately in return. Despite the difficulties, the trials, the struggle, and the confusion, her path had smoothed to bring her to the happiest of conclusions, the most joyous of endings. She could imagine nothing better than to spend the rest of her days wrapped in Lord Carrick’s embrace, to make their life one of love and contentment, and that was, she determined, as he unwillingly took his lips from hers, precisely what she was going to do.
The Viscount’s Heart
Weddings & Scandals
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
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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.
“At least I am here now,” he muttered to himself, walking smartly along the pavement towards Hyde Park. The day was fresh and warm, and Arthur found himself smiling as he entered into the beautiful, sunlit park. Walking in places such as this always brought him a good deal of joy and it was a
ll the more delightful when it was filled with young ladies parading about, all determined to be seen by the beau monde.
This year was no different, Arthur was pleased to note. The young debutantes were making their way through the park at a leisurely pace, although each was accompanied by what appeared to be a dragon of a mother, who seemed to glare at any unwelcome gentlemen sending glances in the direction of her daughter. Arthur stifled a grin. It was always this way, every year. The mothers of such daughters had, planted in their mind, a determination that their offspring would be the one to marry well and to therefore gain the highest title. That meant that any untitled gentlemen and, most likely, baronets and barons, would not be welcome to pay suit to their daughters. He, however, as a viscount, would be made most welcome, although should an earl come along, then Arthur had no doubt that he would be immediately forgotten.
The sun warmed his face as he continued to make his way through the park, taking slow steps and meandering leisurely along the path, making sure to take everything in. There were the usual carriages going around the park, although Arthur could only see the fluttering of fans inside them as opposed to the occupants within.
“It is rather warm, I suppose,” he commented to himself, content to simply walk about the park rather than stop to talk to anyone in particular. It was his way of reacquainting himself with society. He simply walked, watched, and smiled to himself at the sight of his old acquaintances—or in the hope of introductions to new young ladies in particular.
