The Reluctant Viscount

by Emma Evans

  Sophia’s frown did not lift. “It seems so unfair. You come from a family that has a better title than my own and yet it is you who are excluded!”

  Clara put one hand on Sophia’s arm. “Sophia, I chose to be excluded. I am a companion, not a young lady in search of a husband. I take my role seriously and that includes stepping back when I am not required.”

  Sophia stared at her for a moment, surprise etched on her face. “You asked to be excluded?”

  “Of course,” Clara replied with a slight shrug. “You must not think of me as either your equal or your better, Sophia. I am a companion and it is you who are to be ushered into the light, not I. Companions and wallflowers cling to the shadows and since I am both, then I assure you I will be more than contented with my lot. You need not worry.”

  It took a little more convincing for Sophia to be satisfied with Clara’s explanations and assurances, but eventually, she quit the room and made her way down the stairs to the drawing room where Lord Thackery was waiting for her.

  Quite content to be on her own, Clara rang the bell and asked for her dinner tray to be taken to the library when it was ready. Relieved that the library was upstairs, she quickly made her way there and, peeking inside, discovered that it was quite empty. It was a relief to have such peaceful solitude, for as much as she loved Sophia, the girl could certainly talk! There was often constant chatter whenever they spent time together, which, for the most part, Clara put down to sheer excitement and delight over her change in situation. Their first ball was to be tomorrow evening and Sophia had been almost overcome with delight!

  Discarding the book she had been attempting to read, Clara went to choose another and was still doing so when the dinner tray arrived. It was set before the fire for her and, with a sigh of happiness and contentment, Clara found another novel and went to sit down by the fire.

  Even though it was the height of summer, there was still a small glow coming from the red coal in the grate which brought a warmth to her sprit. The nights could be cool in London and Clara was grateful for the extra heat. Her stomach was soon full, her mind filled with the story she was reading.

  The dinner tray was replaced with a tea tray and still, Clara read on. Her novel was utterly fascinating, placing her directly in the center of another world, a world filled with dark and ominous places where only one young maiden stood as the bright flower, unrelenting against the harshness of her cruel world. Clara longed for her to remain strong, to continue to fight against all that surrounded her so that she might emerge victorious and loved, Clara’s fingers turning page after page as the long hours slipped by.

  The tea tray was removed and Clara barely noticed.

  The door opened again, and as Clara dragged her eyes from the page, she saw none other than Lord Thackery standing in the doorway, his eyes widening with surprise.

  “Oh, my lord,” Clara exclaimed, struggling to get to her feet and finding that her legs had gone to sleep, since she had tucked them under her skirts. “I do apologize. I did not mean to intrude.”

  “You are not intruding,” he replied, gesturing her to remain in her seat.

  “Has Sophia…?” Clara felt her face burn as she realized she had not even thought of her charge in some hours, wondering if she had already retired to bed.

  “She is still talking with three young ladies and their mothers in the drawing room,” Lord Thackery reassured her, coming further into the library but leaving the door ajar. “I intend to play cards with a few gentlemen but find that we require another set of cards. I have some in here, you see.”

  Clara nodded mutely, telling herself that she needed to return to her room as soon as Lord Thackery had left, in preparation for Sophia’s return.

  “Sophia did very well,” Lord Thackery said quietly, as he picked up a deck of cards from the corner of the room. “She is going to do wonderfully well, I assure you.”

  “I am glad to hear it,” Clara replied, not quite sure what else to say.

  “You should join us next time,” he said as he walked back towards the door. “You do not need to hide yourself away.”

  Clara, surprised by his suggestion, quickly shook her head. “Thank you, my lord, but I do not see the need to. Sophia is the one who requires such things but not I.”

  “You are not seeking to better your situation?”

  Such was the bluntness of his question that Clara felt her mouth fall open, unable to think of any kind of reply.

  “Do excuse me,” he said at once, his eyes no longer fixed on hers but darting away as he realized his mistake. “That was not my place. Do excuse me.”

  “But, of course,” Clara murmured, feeling her cheeks already burning with the heat of shame and embarrassment. “Thank you, Lord Thackery.” She did not know what she was thanking him for but he seemed to accept it, closing the door behind him and leaving her to her silence once more.

  Clara waited for a few minutes before getting up and making her way back to her bedchamber, her heart beating a little faster when she thought she heard Lord Thackery coming up the staircase.

  She did not wait to see whether or not it was him but hurried to her room as quickly as possible.

  Lord Thackery was not someone she needed to notice, nor was he someone she ought to notice. He was Sophia’s uncle and her sponsor for the Season this year, and Clara did not want to do anything—or even think anything—that might jeopardize that situation. Lord Thackery seemed, on the whole, a very amiable man although she did find herself wondering why he had not yet married. Of course, gentlemen often married later than the ladies of the ton and yet never seemed to be ‘on the shelf’ as she was. It seemed a little unfair from Clara’s perspective, given that Lord Thackery was, from Sophia’s description, only a year or so older than she. A gentleman with a title and an estate would need a wife in order to produce the heir required to continue the family line. Perhaps Lord Thackery was in London to find himself such a wife.

  Shaking her head to herself, Clara tried to clear her thoughts of Lord Thackery. Dressing quickly into her night things, she sat and waited for Sophia to arrive back in her room, ready to assist her in any way that she required.

  Her heart grew a little sorrowful as she recalled the last time she had been in London, enjoying the start of her very first Season. She had been the one enjoying the company of gentlemen and ladies, the one who had thought of nothing more than dresses and balls and gentlemen. She had been filled with such hopes and dreams back then, right before it had all been pulled away from her.

  Closing her eyes, Clara fought against the urge to give in to self-pity. She had the opportunity to spend time with Sophia, to enjoy London again, albeit in a slightly different way, but at least it took her away from the very difficult situation at her brother’s estate. She had to be grateful for that.

  The door creaked open and Sophia’s head poked through, before she came hurrying inside, practically giddy with delight. Effusions of happiness poured from her mouth as Clara attempted to help prepare her for bed, finding it more and more difficult as Sophia spun around the room, talking at length about a particular gentleman whom Clara had not quite managed to catch the name of.

  “It was truly wonderful,” Sophia sighed, flopping down on the edge of her bed. “I am just sorry you had to miss it.”

  Clara laughed and shook her head. “I was quite happy with my book,” she said, handing Sophia her nightgown.

  Sophia tilted her head. “Thackery said you appeared quite contented,” she murmured, looking a little interested. “He came to see you, did he?”

  Shaking her head, Clara tried not to roll her eyes, wondering how much wine Sophia had drunk. “We talked briefly, Sophia, that is all.” Seeing her charge open her mouth to ask more questions, Clara smiled at her. “Now, what is the name of this gentleman?” she asked hastily, hoping to redirect Sophia’s attention. “I do not think you told me it!”

  Sophia began to talk in earnest all over again, allowing Clara a quie
t sigh of relief. There would be no more talk about Lord Thackery, particularly not with Sophia. She would show no interest, ask no questions. That kind of gentleman was not for her, the poor spinster sister of a viscount. She would spend her time with Sophia for as long as she needed her and then—well, she would simply take whatever came her way as best she could. That was all she could expect.

  Chapter Five

  Simon cleared his throat as he got out of the carriage, holding out his hand for Sophia to climb down after him. She was practically glowing, clearly delighted to be attending her very first ball.

  “Now, do not look too enthusiastic,” Simon warned her, as she clasped her hands together in front of him. “And you are not to waltz, do you understand?”

  The smile faded from her face almost at once.

  “Waltzing is not for debutantes,” Simon continued firmly. “I know you wished to but I will not allow you to do so. Not yet.”

  For a moment, Sophia looked as though she might argue, but to her credit, she remained mute.

  “Now, let us go in together. I will introduce you to a few of my acquaintances—my respectable acquaintances—and you will have your dance card filled within a few minutes.” He held out his arm to her, only for Sophia to frown.

  “Are you not going to assist Clara from the carriage?” Sophia asked, sounding surprised. “I mean, Miss Dynes?”

  A flush of shame crept up his neck and into his face as he turned to see Miss Dynes attempting to climb down from the carriage, her skirts gathered in one hand. He had quite forgotten about her presence, given how quiet she was, and as such, his behavior had been quite ungentlemanly.

  “I do apologize,” he mumbled, offering her his hand. “Please. Allow me.”

  Miss Dynes looked up at him, her cheeks burning. “You need not worry, Lord Thackery. I know Sophia is—”

  “No, I insist,” he said, as she hesitated. “Please.”

  Her hand touched his, her delicate gloves smooth against his skin. He felt his stomach tighten as her eyes lifted to his, finding himself caught in her gaze.

  “Thank you, Lord Thackery,” she murmured, dropping her hand. “You are very kind.”

  He did not know what to say, his throat suddenly tight. She looked absolutely beautiful in her dark green gown, like a flower that had only just begun to bloom. He saw her uncertain glance, her pink cheeks, and something in him burned.

  “Thackery?”

  Sophia’s voice interrupted his thoughts, dragging him back to where he was. He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet, making a meal of pulling on his gloves as though that was what he had always intended. The last thing he needed was to become involved with his cousin’s companion.

  “Of course. On we go into the fray,” he smiled, trying to get rid of the lingering embarrassment that dogged him as he climbed the steps with Sophia on his arm. Miss Dynes came behind them, just as she ought to do as Sophia’s companion—although there still felt something wrong with her doing so. It was as though she ought to be on his other arm, coming in as Sophia’s friend instead of her companion. She was young enough to be seeking her own suitors and husband, although, by society’s standards, she was close to being beyond the age of such things. He wondered if she would dance this evening, if she would seek out partners of her own, but somehow, he doubted it. She was much too determined to do the best for Sophia, something he could not criticize.

  A thought of dancing with her himself popped into his mind. It was a thought he did not immediately dismiss, finding the idea of twirling her around the floor to be a rather inviting one. His cousin, Sophia, would not be permitted to dance yet but there was no reason Miss Dynes could not.

  “Remember to greet the hosts,” he heard Miss Dynes murmur as they entered the threshold. “And your best curtsy.”

  Sophia nodded and smiled, her eyes bright with anticipation. Simon led them to the receiving line and greeted their hosts, introducing both Sophia and Miss Dynes. He was pleased with how calm Sophia managed to be, even though he knew she was practically abuzz with excitement. Miss Dynes had trained her well.

  “Oh, my!” Sophia gasped as they came to the staircase that led to the ballroom. “Look at it all!”

  It was, indeed, a wonderful sight. The ballroom was lit with a great many candles, the orchestra was already in full swing and there were dancers already twirling around the floor. Unable to prevent himself from glancing at Miss Dynes, he saw that her eyes were aglow, her mouth curved with a small smile, although there was just a hint of sadness in her expression. Had she been here before? Had she missed all that the London season had offered?

  “This way,” he murmured, seeing his friends standing to one side of the ballroom. “Now, in a short time, I shall leave you in the care of Miss Dynes, Sophia. Do exactly as she says and ensure you return to her after every dance. You are not to go away with any gentleman, no matter how much he begs you.”

  Sophia stopped dead, making him come to a standstill.

  “As much as I appreciate your advice, my lord,” she said with just a hint of sarcasm, “Miss Dynes has taught me very well. I know what is expected of me.”

  Her tone took him by surprise, making him pause for just a moment as he looked down at his charge, hearing Miss Dynes’ gasp of surprise.

  “You are quite right,” he said after a moment, turning to look at Miss Dynes as well as Sophia. “I should not be speaking to you like a child. Miss Dynes, I did not mean to question your tutelage and guidance in this matter. Do forgive me.”

  She looked at him in astonishment, her cheeks filling with pink as she stammered.

  “Thank you, Thackery,” Sophia said with a small sniff as Miss Dynes struggled to speak up. “Now, shall we go and meet these friends of yours? I am most desirous to find at least one decent dance partner.”

  Simon chuckled, shaking his head at his cousin. “Very well,” he said, turning back to face them. “This way.”

  “I shall just be over to your left, near to the wall, Sophia.”

  Miss Dynes’ soft voice spoke up and, frowning a little, Simon turned back to face her.

  “Do excuse me,” she continued with a quick curtsy, and before he could say anything, she was gone.

  “I do wish she could be introduced to your friends,” Sophia murmured, as Simon stared after Miss Dynes. “She is much too young and much too pretty to be nothing more than a companion.”

  Simon cleared his throat, finding that he quite agreed with everything Sophia said. “Why is she not in London herself, Sophia?”

  Sophia’s eyes grew surprised. “You do not know?”

  “No,” Simon said, wondering if there was some terrible scandal he had not heard of. “I have never heard of, nor met this lady before in my life. Whatever is the matter with her?”

  “It is not what is to do with her,” Sophia replied firmly. “She has been quite badly treated, from what I understand. Her father passed away just as she started her first Season and, with no mother to speak of, she was forced to return home. She had her year of mourning, of course, but was never allowed by her brother to return to London. He found her quite useful, I think, in running the estate whilst he went off to London and made merry with his friends.”

  A sudden streak of anger raced through him, making him frown, hard.

  “He has married now, of course, but that has made things all the more difficult.”

  “Of course,” Simon said at once, realizing what Sophia meant. “Her brother’s wife would expect to run the house, would she not?”

  “Yes, I believe so, but that is not what I meant,” Sophia continued, looking up at him intently. “Are you quite sure you have not heard the gossip surrounding Viscount Crawford? I was told it had gone all around London.”

  Simon frowned, his mind swirling with foggy memories. “I think I recall hearing something,” he said slowly. “Something about the sister of the Viscountess and Viscount Crawford’s brother.”

  Sophia’s face lit up with
a triumphant expression. “Yes, that is it precisely,” she declared. “The new Viscountess took her sister along with her to live at the Crawford estate. Their mother, I believe, lives in a smaller property halfway across the country, since her husband passed away some years ago and, it seems, is quite content with both her daughters living in such a way. It was quite amicable at first, I believe, but then it appeared that this sister was making eyes at Viscount Crawford’s younger brother. Clara has mentioned to me that she found it overwhelming to be caught up in such an indelicate situation and that she was treated terribly by the family. What a relief it has been to her to come here!”

  Unable to see Miss Dynes in the crowd any longer, Simon let out a long breath. “Why does her brother not send her to London for the Season?” he asked, confused. “Then he would be rid of the burden he has in keeping her under his roof—not that I think Miss Dynes is, herself, a burden,” he finished quickly, seeing Sophia’s eyes flash.

  “From what I understand from Father—for Clara herself would not speak ill of her brother, no matter how much I pressed her—he is utterly selfish and wishes to keep as much wealth for himself as he can. I believe that when they decide to leave on a trip somewhere, the four of them, you understand, Clara suddenly becomes useful again. She is treated no better than a servant and is not allowed to live a life all of her own,” she continued, looking rather angry. “I am almost persuaded not to find a suitor this year so that I might keep her from her brother’s home for as long as I can manage.”

  Simon could not help but smile at his cousin’s compassionate heart, although he certainly did not want to sponsor her again next year! “What does Miss Dynes intend to do once you have found a husband?” he asked softly, suddenly desperate to know as much as he could about her. “Where will she go?”

  Sophia’s lips twisted. “She will have very little choice,” she replied sadly. “What else can she do but go back to her brother?”