The Secrets of a Viscount

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The Secrets of a Viscount Page 19

by Sande, Linda Rae


  When he pulled away the second time, it was to take a breath and regard her with an expression of awe. “Do you suppose we might kiss like this often?” he wondered in a whisper.

  A bit dazed, Elise angled her head and finally allowed a nod. “I do believe I shall make it a requirement of you.” She would have added a comment about deciding she would marry him, but realized it was unnecessary.

  His grin broadening into a smile, an expression that youthened him by at least ten years, Godfrey lowered his head until their hat brims touched. “I look forward to learning of your other requirements, especially after Tuesday.”

  Elise gave a start. “Tuesday?” she repeated.

  Godfrey nodded. “That’s the day you’re going to marry me. The day after tomorrow.”

  Elise couldn’t help the blush that colored her face, nor the sense of relief that seemed to settle over her just then. Marriage was in her future, is seemed.

  At least she no longer dreaded the thought.

  Chapter 25

  A Daughter Regrets

  The following Tuesday

  Diana entered the narthex of St. George’s church and paused a moment. Awed by the quiet, cavernous sanctuary bathed in a golden light, she felt as if she were merely an inch high. She gripped her bundle of late spring flowers in her white kid gloves and allowed her gaze to take in everything.

  She had never stepped foot in this hallowed hall before. When she was a child, her mother had told her illegitimate people weren’t allowed. Because her mother was also baseborn, she and her mother and sister had never attempted to enter a church. Had they wished to do so, she was quite sure her father would have seen to some sort of arrangement. Her father could see to anything, she supposed, but Lily Albright had long ago accepted her place in Society. And so they had simply spent their Sundays in quiet solitude, reading books and taking long walks in the park.

  Why had she allowed Adam to talk her into marrying in this particular church? In any church, for that matter?

  Because Thorncastle wanted to marry Aunt Elise in this church, she remembered then. This was the church in which most aristocrats married. And since she and Adam would be acting as witnesses to the Thorncastle wedding, it only made sense they would say their vows here, as well.

  When Diana finally dared take another step forward, she concentrated on the huge altar at the front of the church, wondering if that’s where she would be saying her vows on this bright, sunny day.

  “You’re a vision,” Adam’s voice came from somewhere to her right. “In fact, I thought perhaps you were an angel.”

  Diana blinked as she turned to regard him, stunned she hadn’t noticed him leaning against the wall. He looked far too handsome—dark and dangerous—a devilish gleam in his eyes. Her insides did the flip she remembered from the first day he had met her.

  Had that been just five days ago?

  What am I doing here? she wondered, a bit of panic gripping her. I am going to marry this devil.

  Rather than feeling as if she should be casting up her accounts, she instead felt a flare of desire for the man who was regarding her with an appreciative expression. An expression that had a blush suffusing her entire body. Do not fear it, her mother had said on one occasion. That desire for a man, for the power you have over him is all the power you will ever possess.

  Until this moment, Diana had never understood her mother’s comment. Now, seeing the way her betrothed beheld her in the dimness, she understood her mother’s words completely. Perhaps later, she would put them to good use. She only wished she had allowed her mother to teach her more about pleasing a man.

  Daisy had learned, of course. She was older. More worldly. And she’d been eager to do so, as if she intended to use her power to seduce men for a living. Although Diana knew Daisy hadn’t taken up the occupation as mistress to some aristocrat, Diana also didn’t quite know what her sister did in her guises as a spy to make her way in life.

  Daisy had come into her majority already, though, and had accepted their father’s settlement with the promise she would not gamble it away or spend it all in one place. Diana expected she might one day receive an invitation to a house party in Kent or Bath or Brighton and finally see first-hand how Daisy had spent the money. Or perhaps she would be sent a ticket to travel to some exotic location and discover her sister was the owner of a plantation or extensive estate or a palace. None of those seemed likely, however. Daisy had never struck her as a woman who pined for the elegance in which she’d been raised. The opulence that surrounded them in their youth because of who their father was.

  Diana gave her head a shake as if to clear her mind and stared at Adam. She took in his topcoat and elaborately embroidered waistcoat, its silver and gold threads twinkling in the dim light of the narthex. “As are you,” she countered as she hurried over to him. “Why, you’ll blind an angel with that waistcoat,” she teased with an impish grin. "And if not the waistcoat, then with that pin,” she remarked, openly admiring the diamond cravat pin that winked from the folds of a snowy white neck cloth. She reached up with a gloved finger to touch the gem, quickly pulling away her hand when she realized it was entirely inappropriate to be standing so close to the man.

  “Do you think it’s too much?” he asked with concern, stepping back to look down at his ensemble. Even his black Hobys reflected what little light there was in the entryway, a testament to how much time his valet had spent shining them that morning. “I wanted to wear my very best since I knew you would be wearing the gown you bought Saturday,” he murmured, his voice kept low in deference to their surroundings. “You are wearing the gown you bought Saturday?” he hedged, taking another step back so his gaze could take in her gown. Most of it was covered with a pelisse, the long, light coat hiding most of her gown.

  “I am,” she said as she turned slightly so he could help her remove the pelisse.

  “You could wear nothing at all and be beautiful,” he said before leaning over to buss her on the cheek. At her startled reaction, he blinked. “I meant that you could wear anything and be beautiful,” he amended, his expression suggesting his original comment was made in innocence.

  Diana had a suspicion he meant both.

  “May I be allowed to say the same of you?” she whispered, aware her cheeks were bright pink from his words.

  “As long as they’re sincere.”

  “They are, of course,” she replied with a nod. She took a deep breath, thinking perhaps she should tell him who her father was before they married. It wouldn’t be fair to the man to discover the news afterwards, she supposed. “There’s something I...” The sound of one of the front doors had her stepping back—taking several steps back, in fact—given they were standing far too close to one another. “I believe one of our witnesses has arrived,” she murmured, a bit dismayed that she didn’t have a chance to finish her confession. She turned, expecting to see her aunt Elise or Lord Thorncastle come into the narthex. Instead, a blond-haired, blue-eyed man approached. He appeared to be around forty, his clothes impeccably cut and his top hat tucked into the crook of his arm.

  From where he stood in shadow near the wall, Adam heard Diana’s inhalation of breath and watched as she immediately dropped into a deep curtsy, her head bent in supplication.

  “Your Grace,” she whispered in shock. For there, just a few feet in front of her, stood James Burroughs, Duke of Ariley.

  Her father.

  She hadn’t even straightened before Ariley suddenly gathered her into his arms and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I could not stay away, Poppet,” he murmured before he stepped back and held her at arm’s length. “Not on a day where I can pay witness to my youngest sister remarrying. You must be one of her witnesses,” he commented lightly. “Rather sporting of her to invite you,” he stated with a nod. “But then, you probably are her favorite niece. Have you had the chance to meet her groom?”

  Diana nodded, a bit surprised—and relieved—by the duke’s words. “I hav
e. Lord Thorncastle seems quite in love with her,” she managed to get out, her heart beating so fast, she wondered if she might faint before she had a chance to say her vows. “And I do believe Lady Lancaster returns the favor.”

  Her father sobered suddenly. “My, how beautiful you look on this day. I’m reminded of how your mother looked the first time I spotted her at a house party,” he managed to get out, a catch in his throat suggesting his bright eyes might be due to impending tears.

  House party? Diana blinked as her head did a quick shake from side to side.

  Her mother had said they had met at the theatre!

  “You honor me, sir,” Diana replied, finally daring a glance in the direction of Adam.

  Ariley’s eyes followed his daughter’s and he suddenly straightened. “Breckinridge? Is that you? Why, what brings you to St. George’s on this fine day?” he asked as he extended a hand.

  Confusion apparent on his face—and perhaps a hint of annoyance, as well—Adam gave a bow before shaking the man’s proffered hand. “A wedding, Your Grace,” he replied. “And you?” The interloper had put his arms around Diana in far too familiar a manner. Why, if Ariley had been anything less than a duke, Adam thought he might challenge the man to a duel!

  Ariley allowed a wide grin. “My youngest sister is finally marrying the man she should have married some...” His eyes rolled up, as if he were doing math in his head. “Eighteen years ago?” he finally guessed. He turned to Diana. “What were you back then? Five?”

  “Seven,” Diana replied, her head falling another fraction.

  “My, but how the time flies,” the duke commented.

  “Lady Lancaster?” Adam guessed, a quick glance in Diana’s direction showing her own eyes were downcast. She looked far too pale, as if she might faint. “I told Thorncastle I would be his witness,” Adam added with a nod. “After he pays witness to my own nuptials.”

  This news certainly surprised the duke. “I didn’t know you were about to be leg-shackled,” Ariley countered, his manner rather jovial. “Got a child on some poor chit, did you?” he asked, sotto voce.

  Offended—and rather incensed by the duke’s implication—Adam frowned and gave a quick shake of his head. “I did no such thing, Your Grace,” he stated firmly, a quick glance in Diana’s direction revealing her rounded eyes before her head fell forward again. “Nor have I ever.” He could swear he could see a teardrop about to fall from one of her eyes. He was about to move to console her, but he was still wondering why the Duke of Ariley had hugged her and kissed her as if she might be his mistress. His actions had been entirely inappropriate, especially in the narthex of a church! “And I would beseech you to keep your hands off my betrothed,” Adam warned in a voice filled with menace.

  Diana sucked in a breath at the same time her father’s brows furrowed in confusion. When Ariley turned to regard her, Diana gave an audible sigh. “Please, do not find fault with him, Father,” she said as she hurried to stand at Adam’s side. “I haven’t told him,” she added with a shake of her head, an eyetooth denting her plush lower lip.

  “Father?” Adam repeated, his own brows furrowing with the revelation. He took a step back, which had his body nearly pressed against the wall.

  “I apologize,” Diana whispered hoarsely. “I was just about to tell you—”

  “Just about?” Adam repeated, his shock still apparent. How could this be happening? How could he be betrothed to the daughter of a duke without... without knowing it?

  Because her name wasn’t Burroughs! Thorncastle had introduced her as Diana Albright. A teacher at Warwick’s.

  Not Diana Burroughs.

  Adam’s brows furrowed. Is she a widow? was his first thought.

  Or a bastard?

  Given the Duke of Ariley was her father and had married rather late in life, Adam realized it was more likely Diana was born on the wrong side of the blanket.

  But that meant Ariley hadn’t given her his name. She should have been Diana Burroughs. Instead, she was Diana Albright. And yet her father stood before her as if she were to the manor born.

  Damn it all to hell! The embarrassment he felt just then rocked him to the core.

  “You mean, you were going to tell me just now? Just before we were to be married?” Adam whispered hoarsely, his anger redirected on Diana. “Wot? Were you going to say something like, ‘Oh, by the way, my father is the Duke of Ariley’?” He took a step closer to her, his voice lowering to a whisper. “You didn’t consider that I might have wished to ask his permission to marry you?” he went on, feeling ever so much the fool just then.

  His gaze left hers and was about to be turned onto the duke when the first tears left Diana’s eyes. She had known this was coming. At some point, she knew she should have revealed the truth of her parentage, but at the same time, she never believed they would ever actually be standing in the narthex of St. George’s church, with a special license in hand and an appointment with a bishop to marry them, Aunt Elise and Lord Thorncastle as their witnesses.

  Faith! Why hadn’t she mentioned this when they were discussing her father at Gunter’s? She hadn’t even told him the truth about her mother!

  Christ! What would he think then?

  Suddenly embarrassed by his outburst, Adam gave a nod to the duke, murmured a, “Pardon me,” and made his way out the front doors of the church. The bright sunlight blinded him before he could take the first step down toward the street.

  Even so, he wouldn’t have gotten far. Godfrey Thorncastle was taking the steps up two at a time, his countenance suggesting he was happier on this day than he had been on any other day in his entire life.

  “Breckinridge!” Thorncastle called out as he closed the distance between them. “Not trying to run away now, are you?” he teased when he finally made it to the top step.

  The younger viscount squeezed his eyes shut against the bright sun, the sparks of light that reflected from his waistcoat threatening to blind him even more. Jesus! I’ll blind myself before I blind any angels, he thought in disgust.

  How could I have been so blind? He met a beautiful woman on the street and thought only to marry her to fulfill his obligation to his best friend. Thoughts of her family or of proper parentage or even what might come after the wedding—a life together—hadn’t been a consideration.

  “I’ve just learned that the father of my betrothed is Ariley,” Adam whispered hoarsely, as if he were afraid someone might overhear his words. “My baseborn betrothed.” Or did everyone else already know the on-dit about Diana Albright?

  Am I the last to know?

  Who the hell was her mother? Certainly not the Duchess of Ariley! James Burroughs hadn’t been married to Helen Harrington long enough to have a daughter Diana’s age.

  Godfrey Thorncastle winced at his words, but considered how to respond before allowing a loud sigh. “She is one of his illegitimate daughters,” he admitted in a hoarse whisper, adding, “He had two with his long-time mistress, Lily Albright. Elise told me about them last evening, when I wondered why she referred to Miss Albright as her niece.”

  Adam regarded the older viscount for a moment, his manner calmer. At least Thorncastle didn’t already know. Had the viscount admitted he did know, Adam was quite sure he would have put a fist into the man’s face just then. “So, she claims she was about to tell me. Do you suppose she was thinking to marry me, and then tell me she was a bastard?” he wondered, his brows forming one angry line above his eyes.

  The other viscount jerked a bit at the comment, his look of disappointment suggesting he had an entirely different view of the matter. He gave a shrug. “Does it matter?” Thorncastle countered simply. “Be honest now,” he warned, his chin rising so there was only one on display. “You merely thought her a commoner, did you not?”

  “A commoner, yes, but... with a proper family,” Adam allowed, his attempt at anger having come out sounding rather pathetic.

  Godfrey gave him a pat on the shoulder. “I ask you once ag
ain. Does it matter? Christ, Breckinridge! She’s a duke’s daughter. Ariley has recognized her as such since the day she was born. Her sister as well. Why can’t you?”

  Lifting his head to regard the older viscount with a frown, Adam considered the words. “I should have asked Ariley’s permission, dammit. And had Diana told me she was his daughter, I would have,” he claimed in a louder voice. “I had the impression she and her father were estranged since his marriage!”

  Marriage. Not remarriage. Adam blinked.

  He manages an estate, he remembered her saying at Gunter’s. Well, that was certainly true. The Ariley dukedom was definitely an estate.

  My mother died when I was fourteen.

  “Who was her mother?” Adam asked in a quiet voice. The daughter of a baronet.

  The older viscount allowed a sigh. “Lily Albright. She was Sir Ronald’s only daughter,” he replied in a voice nearly as quiet as Adam’s.

  The younger viscount frowned, not familiar with a baronet of that name. “I don’t suppose Sir Ronald was Sir Ronald Albright,” he murmured, his expression growing more pained as he realized his betrothed’s mother had been illegitimate as well.

  “He was a Twickham,” Godfrey acknowledged. “His mistress was a courtesan of some note, but Lily was their only child.”

  “And Lily? What was she?” Adam wondered, his mind conjuring the worst possible scenario.

  Godfrey shook his head. “Ariley’s mistress. For nearly twenty years. He would have taken her as his wife, but she refused. Probably knew she would never be accepted in Society given her background as a courtesan,” he explained. “And that is all I know on the subject.” He paused a moment. “Elise has known her whole life. She has accepted Diana and her older sister as her nieces. Stayed close. Doesn’t want to see either one of them hurt.”

 

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