The Virtuous Viscount

by Susan M. Baganz

  Marcus walked over to the piano, picked up Josie’s hand, lifted it to his lips, and gave the barest whisper of a kiss. “That was beautiful. Thank you.” Reluctantly, he released her hand and stepped back as the other men vied for her attention.

  Soon Josie laughed with the men as she played a playful ditty that they all knew.

  “I will play one more song tonight, gentleman, but under one condition.”

  “And that condition would be?” Phillip asked with a smirk on his face.

  “That Lord Remington accompanies me with his voice.” Josie looked down at her fingers in her lap as she awaited his response.

  Marcus was nonplussed. He did not perform for audiences and reserved his singing for worship in church. It was not that he could not sing, but it was a private thing for him. If it had been anyone else asking, he would have refused. But this was Josie. Almost before he realized what he was doing, he was by her side and whispering in her ear, “Any particular song you would like to hear?” He thought he detected a shiver run through her.

  “Remy? You sing?” Theo had gone to sit down close by, where he could observe what was happening.

  “I guess you’ll have to listen to find out, won’t you?” Marcus grinned.

  “How about Amazing Grace? I know it’s a relatively newer song by Newton, but I love the words and can play it adequately.” Josie tilted her head in waiting for his answer.

  “If you can play it adequately, I believe I can sing it.” Marcus gently touched her back. “Shall we?”

  He watched her long fingers leave her lap to find their place on the black and white keys and begin playing. He strove to forget that others watched. Marcus closed his eyes and sought to focus on God as he sang. As the piano filled the room in a magical dance with his voice and the words of the hymn, it was as if God were there with them in a real and tangible way. When the chords resolved, he once again opened his eyes to gaze down at Josie.

  She looked up at him with tears in her eyes and a small smile. “Thank you, Marcus.”

  After tea, Marcus walked beside Josie to the stairs and guided her ascent. When they arrived in her suite, Molly sat off to one side mending. Marcus sat down next to Josie on a loveseat and turned his body toward hers.

  “I missed you today.”

  “I missed you too, but dash it all, Josie, every time I turn around, another man has you on his arm.”

  Josie tilted her head. “Are you jealous?” She smirked. “You needn’t be. It would be unusual for me to have a man pining for my company.”

  “You are a desirable woman. Were the men in Stone blind?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t lack for partners, but I never found a man worthy of knowing better. One, Sir Bastian, has pursued me, undaunted by my repeated rejections of his suit. But I held no affection for him. I am not desperate for a husband. If God wants me to have one, He will bring that about in His own way.”

  “Isn’t that naïve? If you stay at home, how would that man ever find you?”

  “Isn’t God big enough to make it happen?” Josie’s hand rose to stop Marcus from speaking. “I’m not naïve. I was on my way to London if you recall, to partake of a season where I might or might not find the man I would wish to marry.” Her hand came down, and Marcus watched her smile fall away.

  “Your father could show up any day.”

  “I’ve been spoiled here. It will be difficult to leave.” Josie fidgeted with her hands. “Do you think a man might ever come to love a blind woman? Even a little?”

  A knock on the door prevented his answer.

  Lady Grey entered. “It’s time to leave, Marcus. I will assist Miss Storm.”

  Marcus sighed, clasped Josie’s hand in his much larger one and brought it to his lips and softly whispered so only she heard. “Yes.” He rose and departed.

  ~*~

  Josie tossed and turned during the night. Had she been too bold with Marcus? Had she practically asked him if he could love her? Was his whispered “yes” for her and him or for her and someone else? She growled and punched her pillow.

  Morning came, and she was still frustrated. She hated having to wait on the men, even though they were most courteous of her. She could not stand being a patient any longer. At some point, she needed to get up and learn to live in spite of the darkness. She would not let this defeat her.

  Once Molly had finished assisting her with her morning toilette and had left to find her an escort, Josie decided to make the journey downstairs on her own. With that determination, she found the door and slowly made her way down the hallway by running her hand along the top of the wainscoting that was there. When she came to a corner, she knew that she had to move across to the top of the banister, which she managed. Slowly, she worked her way down the steps, and remembering Marcus’s turns as he carried her, she found her way into the breakfast parlour.

  A footman procured food and she sipped her tea.

  Footsteps heralded Marcus’s entrance to the room. It had to be him because of his distinctive scent and purposeful stride. He halted in the doorway.

  She smiled and set down her cup.

  “Miss Storm. Who escorted you here? Molly came to fetch me to do the honors. We returned to find you gone. Yet here you are breaking your fast.”

  “I decided to manage without an escort.”

  He stepped closer to her. “Don’t ever do that again. You have only been up walking for what, two days? You don’t know the layout of the house and might have fallen and been seriously injured. Or worse.” Anger emanated from him like a physical force invading her space.

  “I appreciate your concern, Lord Remington. I am a grown woman. At some point, I have to learn to navigate a house, stairs and all. It cannot be avoided, and I refuse to be cooped up in that bedroom, as comfortable as it is, all day long to stay safe.” Josie struggled to keep her voice calm. Was Marcus concerned, or was he irate with her? “Life will not always provide me with an escort.”

  “You are too independent.”

  Had he clenched his teeth? The words sounded strained and not meant as a compliment.

  “Children,” interrupted Lady Grey as she entered the room. “I think this should be set aside for now. Yes. I overheard. How could one not when your voices were audible in the hallway? Marcus, I understand your concern. I expect Josie would hope to be proficient at getting around here so she can adapt more quickly when she returns home, where she will not have four gallant men to escort her everywhere. Josie, you taking the stairs terrifies me as well, but this is not the place to have this discussion.”

  “Yes, Aunt.” Marcus sounded contrite as he sat near her and a footman clattered a plate in front of him. “I don’t want Miss Storm hurt.”

  “I appreciate your concern, Lord Remington. I will strive to be very careful as I move around the house.”

  “Fair enough,” Lady Dorothea said. “Now, can we eat our breakfast in peace?”

  After breakfast, Marcus excused himself to meet with his steward regarding road repairs.

  Was he was still angry and trying to avoid her? Josie decided that she would become acquainted with the layout of the house. She wandered around ‘seeing’ the rooms with her hands as much as possible.

  Lady Grey had returned to her room to tend to some correspondence.

  Josie suspected someone was following her around and was grateful she wasn’t totally alone as she explored. She wandered from room to room, and since the other men had gone fishing, she encountered no one. She entered a new room. The door had been partially open. She gently opened it further and made her way in. She stopped. This room had a different scent. Books. There had to be books. Sandalwood. Marcus. She smiled.

  “Josie?” She jerked in surprise as Marcus strode toward her, his footsteps muffled on the carpet. He reached her and gently clasped her hand in his. “I’m sorry for my behavior at breakfast. My aunt was right to take me to task for my Turkish treatment of you.”

  “I was vexed that you had made
such a big deal about this.” Josie bit her lower lip.

  “I take my responsibilities seriously. You are under my roof and protection. I would keep you safe.”

  “Would you expect your wife to give you instant obedience as well?” Josie bristled.

  “I would hope I would trust and respect my wife enough that I would express my concerns and be heard and followed. I would never demand obedience. I’ve never needed to, even with my servants.”

  “I’m sorry as well. I’m on edge after our conversation last night.”

  “How so?”

  “I long to see my father and home but am not ready to leave Rose Hill.” Josie reached out to touch his hand and experienced a bolt of lightning shoot up her arm. She grew lightheaded. Marcus’s hand engulfed hers, and she was—safe. His thumb caressed her wrist, and she knew of a sudden why women wore gloves. The tingle was pleasurable. Some unknown part of her urged her to reach out and kiss him. But she could never be that forward. How fast would he think her? But if she were only to ever have one kiss from a man in her lifetime, she would want it to be his.

  Marcus stepped back, and heat flooded her face. Could he read her thoughts? He cleared his throat. He still held her hand. “As much as I would hate to see you go, I hope your father comes soon. Even with my estimable aunt providing chaperonage, people might still gossip, and I would hate to have harmed your reputation in any way.”

  “Like being found alone in your study with me?” Josie was being sassy as she said that. Kiss me!

  Marcus dropped her hand and took another step back. “I have no designs on your virtue.”

  “Maybe I have designs on yours.” Oh, my, did I really say that aloud? She heard him walk toward the door. “I was only teasing you. I didn’t think your virtue would be easily stolen.” She walked toward the door herself, placed her hand on his arm, smiled at him, and gave the muscle a squeeze before letting it go.

  “Saucy wench.” Marcus had said the words so softly she wondered if she had heard him correctly. But his firm hand on her back propelled her out of the room, and before she realized what had happened, he had not only shut the door behind him but had locked it as well. Josie hugged herself and smiled. Maybe she affected him as much as he did her.

  ~*~

  London

  Sir Bastian walked up to the home where Josie was to have stayed. He knocked and waited. He knocked again. The slow shuffle of feet preceded the door opening and an elderly butler looking down his thin nose at him.

  “I’ve come to see Miss Josephine Storm. I am her fiancé.”

  “There is no Miss Storm here.” The elderly man intoned with clipped words.

  “Is this not the Widmore residence? My understanding was that she was to be with them in London.”

  “I’ve not been privy to prior plans. There is no Miss Storm here.”

  The door closed in his face, and Bastian growled. Josie would pay for making him wait. There was no reason he should wait until the season…and what the Black Diamond didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

  14

  It was a merry bunch at dinner that evening.

  Josie struggled inside with her growing attraction to Marcus. There was something about him that thrilled her when he was near. She had never experienced that with any other man of her acquaintance, not even his friends. They treated her well but were more like brothers. But Marcus. She would remember her fingers on his lips when he had allowed her to “see” him that way. The image she had in her mind was of someone quite handsome. Between how Molly had described him and her own sense of touch, she figured this man was too gorgeous to be true. If she regained her sight, would she be disappointed?

  Josie blinked as bright lights sparked in her mind. Another headache? They had been coming more frequently and with greater intensity over the last few days. She was tired of being an invalid, though, and had not told anyone, even Dr. Miller, of her new complaint. She did not want him to restrict her to bed again. She prayed they would go away soon or that she would learn to live with them without becoming one of those cantankerous old women always seeking attention for every ache and twinge. She took a sip of water. She had not been able to eat much and hoped no one would notice.

  Time was running out for her to be at Rose Hill, and in spite of the pain of her injuries and her blindness, she was grateful that God had dropped her on this doorstep so she would meet this man. She grinned to herself because Marcus had doubted God could do it.

  “What’s so funny, Miss Storm?” His voice spoke from her left.

  “Hmmmm?” She had been lost in her own dream and had dropped out of the conversation around her. “Oh, nothing really, just a silly thought that came through my head, which I found entertaining. But not”—she shook her head—“something I wish to share here.”

  Marcus leaned in so close his breath tickled her ear. “Later?” he asked.

  “Perhaps.” She tilted her head his direction and blinked. She chastised herself. When had she become a flirt? She wanted to savor every moment, but her desires were not all that a young woman was supposed to have. Were they? She did not know, and her mother had been gone for the past two years. She doubted she would go to Lady Grey with her longings and questions. She was Marcus’s aunt, after all. Then who? Lord, can you send me some help?

  After dinner, the women retired alone to the drawing room, having encouraged the men to enjoy their glass of port.

  Marcus’s absence from her side left a deep ache. What was she becoming when desire blossomed within her?

  Lady Grey sat next to Josie on the couch. “I spoke with Dr. Miller today after he came to check on you. He is pleased with your progress. When he first had come to take care of you, he had little hope of you walking again. How are you? I hope you have not been overdoing it, especially with those stairs?”

  “I am well, Lady Grey. As I told the doctor, I have some mild muscle spasms but not the pain I originally encountered. I am able to sleep without discomfort. It is good to be free of the sickroom.”

  “Have you and Marcus mended things since this morning? You seemed to be getting along better tonight.”

  Josie nodded. “Yes, we have spoken.” Heat rose to her cheeks at the memory of her desire to kiss him. Maybe her blindness was a gift. If she really saw Marcus, would she be more prone to act on her attraction? “I’m grateful that Lord Remington asked you to come to Rose Hill to bear me company.”

  “Did I hear my name?” Marcus asked as the gentlemen entered the room.

  “We were speaking of how wise you were to bring me here,” Lady Dorothea said, a tint of laughter in her voice.

  Marcus soon stood before them. “I can think of no one else I would rather have, Aunt Doro.” He pulled up a chair nearby and sat.

  Michael interrupted. “I have an idea for tonight’s entertainment.”

  All talking stopped.

  “Since Miss Storm has been gracious enough to share her musical gifts with us, I think we owe her a return favor.”

  Marcus gave a short laugh. “Really? Do you have any talents?”

  Lord Harrow sounded affronted. “I resent that. You, dear Remy, will start with your own exhibition of your piano talents while Tidley, Westcombe, and I prepare for our part of the evening’s entertainment.”

  Josie smiled and turned toward Marcus. “I would love to listen to you play.”

  Lady Dorothea defended him. “He is a competent player and would fare better with practice. His mother had a gift for music and played often for company. Marcus is not quite so prone to exhibit his skill.”

  Marcus rose and headed over to the instrument. “I hope my talent is not too inferior to yours. My aunt is correct. I am out of practice. Miss Storm, what kind of music are you in the mood for this evening—a ballad, concerto, or do you want me to select something?”

  “Play whatever you wish, my lord.” Josie leaned forward in anticipation.

  Murmuring came from the far side of the room, but Marcus began to play a
nd she soon found herself hearing only the music flowing from his fingers. She sighed deep inside as he played a romantic ballad that made her wish for things she would never have. A passionate concerto followed and filled her spirit as she closed her eyes and swayed to the music.

  Marcus played a silly folk song that he also sang with his rich deep baritone.

  Josie and Lady Grey were giddy and applauding by the time it ended.

  Sir Michael came forward. “We will now give our expression of talent.”

  The three men positioned themselves not too far in front of her.

  Marcus sat nearby.

  Phillip grumbled, “I am participating under duress.”

  The three men proceeded to recite, in a comical way, a story. The various men took turns giving sound effects to the tale, and soon tears trickled down her cheek from repressed mirth, as Dorothea and Marcus chuckled.

  “The court jesters. Excellent. Does Prinny know of your talent? You could be regulars at the Brighton Pavilion.” Marcus crowed.

  “Mention this to him and I will meet you in the ring, Remy.” Phillip sounded truly aghast at his friend’s suggestion.

  The rest of the evening filled with lighthearted conversation over the tea tray, and too soon, Josie yawned.

  Lady Grey escorted her up the stairs to her room. Once inside, she gave Josie a hug. “I am most glad that my nephew had the wisdom to invite me to be here. You are good for him.”

  Josie drew back. “Am I? How could that be? A man like him would never take a woman in my condition to be his wife.”

  “You are referring to a woman with beauty, talent, grace, and enough bottom to keep him on his toes.”

  Josie shook her head and frowned. “Thank you. I was referring to my blindness and my lack of a substantial dowry or family connections. I am aware of how marriages in the ton are partnerships designed to fill coffers and enhance alliances. I would never expect to aspire as high as a Viscount.”

  Lady Dorothea held both of Josie’s hands in hers. “You have met my nephew and spent enough time in his presence to realize those are not the things that weigh heavily with him.”