Viscount of Vanity

by Tammy Andresen

  “Austin,” she murmured.

  “Yes, love?”

  “I like your given name much better than that nickname. It doesn’t suit you.”

  He gave a small chuckle. “They gave it to me because of my insistence on hygiene.”

  She kissed his neck. “It implies a shallow superficiality and you, my husband, are a man of great depth.”

  He squeezed her tighter. “I think they may have also been referring to my rigidity, but you, my wife, are erasing that part of me in very short order.”

  “I hope you like that change. You’re changing me too, but I am so very happy about it. It’s only been a short time, I know that, but I can’t imagine me without you.”

  He rolled them to the side, looking deep into her eyes. “You don’t have to. You’re my wife. We’ll be together until death do us part.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Austin woke to the sound of knocking.

  The sun had only just risen, though he’d normally be awake at this time. He’d slept better last night than he could ever remember sleeping in his adult life.

  Gabriella was still curled into his side, her leg tossed across his midsection.

  His wife.

  Not only had he made love to her last night, but he hadn’t experienced a moment of fear or any physical ailments.

  She’d taken his fears and found a way to make him completely comfortable.

  His chest ached.

  She was the most wonderful person he’d ever known, and he was married to her. He shook his head. How could he have known that one impulsive move, one break from his rigid lifestyle, would change everything for the better?

  He brushed back her hair, gazing at her long lashes, resting on her cheek. The flush of her cheeks, the pout of her lips.

  He swallowed down a lump as he ran his thumb along her jawline. His heart beat faster in his chest.

  The knock sounded again, and he grimaced. Who was calling at this hour? Was it Chad? Was something wrong?

  He slipped out of her arms, rose from the bed, and yanked on his pants. His shirt was nowhere in his sight, which he quickly realized was because the garment had never made it to the bedroom. It lay on the floor near the hearth along with her skirts and petticoats.

  Picking up all the clothes, he tossed them behind a chair, except for his shirt, which he pulled over his head and then crossed to the door.

  But a glance out the side window told him that it wasn’t Chad paying the early morning visit but Gabriella’s father.

  He let out a low growl, opening the door just wide enough to look out. “Mr. Winston.”

  Winston gave him a bleary smile. “My dear son-in-law.”

  “What do you want?”

  Winston tried to peer past him. “Is my daughter here?”

  “She’s sleeping.” Austin had no idea what the man was actually doing here, but there was no way he’d let the man in.

  “Her? She always rose with the cock’s crow.” He shoved his hand in his pockets. “No matter. Since I’m here, we might as well have a word.”

  Austin was running out of patience. “Now is not a good time. I have an appointment in the village later today, we can discuss it then.”

  Winston’s face fell. “I had a rather late night and fancy a bit of a repose.”

  Austin quirked a brow. He was certain that meant the other man had yet to go to bed because he’d spent the night drinking. “Tomorrow then.”

  Winston pulled his hat from his head. “Would noon work?”

  “Fine,” Austin answered. He didn’t know what the man wanted, but he knew it wasn’t good. “I will see you at noon.”

  He closed the door again without another word and turned away to see Gabriella peeking out from the bedroom. “What did he want?”

  He slid the lock in place and started for his wife. “It doesn’t matter, love.”

  “It might,” she whispered.

  He crossed the room toward the door as she moved back to let him in. She’d pulled on her chemise but nothing else, and he wrapped her in his arms. “This is something you don’t need to worry about. It’s now my job to deal with him.”

  She wrapped her arms about him. “It’s too much. You shouldn’t have to.”

  Picking her up in his arms, he moved to the bed. “It isn’t.” But it did make him wonder how he should handle today. He didn’t want to leave her in the cottage alone nor did he wish to take her with him. Whatever tricks her father might have up his sleeve, Austin didn’t wish for her to worry about them. She’d spent enough of her life subject to the man’s cruelty. “But I’d like you to spend the day with Abigail and Chad. Just to be safe.”

  “Safe?” she asked as he set her back down on her feet.

  He shook his head. “I just mean so that he can’t bother you.”

  She gave a tentative nod, her hands resting lightly on his chest. “We could just leave. When do Abigail and Chad return to London?”

  Austin grimaced. How had he forgotten? “You’re right. They left this morning.” With the only carriage. “Still. Let’s bring you to the house.”

  “It’s in the opposite direction of the village.”

  He smiled then. “The exercise will do me good.”

  She gave a tentative nod. “I can come with you.”

  He cupped her cheek then, leaning down to give her a light kiss. “I want you to relax and enjoy your day.” She did not need to see what he was about to do to her father. But the man was not going to be part of their life and ruin their newfound happiness. That, he was certain of.

  * * *

  Gabriella sat in the kitchen of Abigail and Chad’s home, chatting with their cook. She knew the woman well. To be fair, she knew nearly everyone who frequented the village. But Mrs. Butterfield, like Madame Fleur, had always been particularly warm.

  That made it easy to sit here now. She tried not to reflect on how she was far more comfortable in the kitchen than in the sitting room of this house. But as Mrs. Butterfield stirred, she looked over at Gabriella. “This weather has been unseasonably cold. Don’t you agree, my lady?”

  Gabriella blinked. Mrs. Butterfield had called her Miss Gabby her entire life. “You don’t have to call me that, Mrs. Butterfield. We’ve always been informal.”

  Mrs. Butterfield turned to look at her. “I do have to call you that. You’ve married a viscount who is a guest in this house. Not that I’m surprised you’ve done so well. But you might as well get used to the address here before you return to London with your new husband.”

  The truth of the words made Gabriella shift. Would she ever feel like she really knew Austin? They’d made a great deal of progress, but still. “That’s true, I suppose. As we’ve been living in a one-bedroom cottage, he seems like any other man to me. Then I get glimpses into his real life and…” She liked Mrs. Butterfield, but perhaps she didn’t need to share her insecurities with another woman. It hadn’t gone all that well with Madame Fleur.

  The cook straightened, giving Gabriella a speculative look. “Blackwater is an excellent employer, and his financial prospects are improving greatly, but if you believe below-stairs gossip, your husband is richer by far.”

  Gabriella started. Was this true? How could she have not known this either? “He did mention several properties.”

  The cook gave her a large smile. “You’ll be well cared for, my lady. Are you happy in the match?”

  Gabriella blushed, thinking of what had transpired the night before and how he’d cared for her the last several days. “It’s so new, but I think so.”

  “He’s been here for a few weeks and I can tell you that he’s been kind and polite with all the staff.”

  Gabriella slumped in relief. Not that she was surprised by that admission. But it was always nice to hear confirmation of what she’d believed to be true. That she was getting to know the real man she’d married. “I’ve thought the same.”

  Mrs. Butterfield stepped closer, her head bending forward. “I kno
w he’s going to take you away soon, and so, before you go, I want to tell you something. Something I’ve considered sharing for years.”

  Gabriella’s brow crinkled as her heart hammered in her chest. “What?”

  Mrs. Butterfield moved even closer, her mouth dropping close to Gabriella’s ear. “There was a rumor, when you were born, that your father…” The older woman dropped her voice even lower. “Wasn’t actually your father.”

  Gabriella gasped, and covered her mouth. “What?”

  Mrs. Butterfield nodded. “Your mother had an affair with a lord who had come to visit the late Baron of Blackwater. I saw them together, so you can take my word as truth. But, as you’ve grown, you resemble him far more than your father.”

  Tears pricked at her eyes. Did her father know of that affair? Is that why he’d been so coldly cruel his entire life?

  “Who was the lord?” she whispered, her hands trembling as they rose to her face.

  “The Marquess of Milton. Though, I understand he died some years ago.” Mrs. Butterfield squeezed her hands. “Don’t judge your mother. Your father, he was a cold, callous man and she just wished for some bit of affection.”

  Gabriella gave a distracted nod even as her stomach turned. She’d never wanted to ask about her parents. She was afraid of the answers. And her mother never discussed her father or their marriage. She only talked of her life in Spain before the match.

  Gabriella’s head swirled with all that Mrs. Butterfield had just shared. “Mrs. Butterfield, do you think there is a place I might lie down?”

  “Of course,” she answered. “Lord Easterly is a guest here. Would you like to go to his room or the adjoining bedroom?”

  “His room would be fine,” she murmured. Did she tell Austin what she’d learned today? She’d promised honesty, of course. But not only was she penniless, it was entirely possible that she was a bastard.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Austin left the barrister’s office, relief making his steps light. Not only had the man validated the marriage license and the proceedings, but he’d begun the paperwork to transfer a sum and the estate in Yorkshire to Gabriella’s name.

  He’d spoken with Chad last night as well. In the event that something should happen to Austin, Chad would help Gabriella to oversee the funds and property, and provide additional protection against her father should she need it. He’d share all of this with Gabriella, of course. She needed to know she could turn to Abigail and Chad whenever necessary.

  But the pieces were in place, which made him almost eager for his meeting with Mr. Winston. Whatever trick the man had up his sleeve, Austin was certain he could trump it.

  He walked into the tavern at five minutes until the noon hour and sat toward the back. It was quarter past by the time Mr. Winston finally arrived, looking decidedly disheveled.

  Austin’s smile was genuine as he stood to greet his father-in-law. This was going to be easier than he thought. “Mr. Winston.”

  The man grunted. “No good morning?”

  “It’s the afternoon, sir.”

  Mr. Winston shook Austin’s hand, his soft hand decidedly clammy. “Is it?”

  “It is. Shall we sit? I’m eager to see this business done and return to my wife.”

  Mr. Winston grunted again, plopping down in a chair. “I’ll take some stew and an ale first. We must observe the civilities.”

  Austin tried not to audibly groan. He had no desire to watch the other man eat and he didn’t intend to take a meal without Gabriella. “I’ve another appointment after this, sir, so you’ll have to discuss whatever it is you wish to address with me while you wait for your food.”

  Mr. Winston sat back in his chair, staring back at Austin. “What is it you do, Mr. Melrose? You have the air of an important man.”

  “Just a busy one, Mr. Winston.”

  The other man cocked his head. “Friends and the guest of a baron. Your clothes are of a fine cut.”

  Austin didn’t flinch but he should have known that Mr. Winston paid attention to details. He made his way through life by taking advantage of others, observation was surely one of his skills. “And I paid a king’s ransom for your daughter.”

  Winston rubbed his cheek and then his blurry eyes. “So you did. You think ill of me for the auction, don’t you?”

  Austin arched his brows. He thought the man scum. “It was your right.”

  Mr. Winston slapped the table. “Of course it was, and look what I did for her. Married to a fine man. I saw her on your arm yesterday. You had her all dressed up and here I am…” He pointed down at his clothes. “Wasting away.”

  “With the sum I gave you, you should be doing a fair sight better than wasting.”

  Mr. Winston’s mouth pinched. “I came this morning because I couldn’t sleep. My mind was filled with worry.”

  “Or ale,” Austin quietly replied.

  Mr. Winston glared, ignoring the comment. “I’ve decided to sell my ancestral home and come with you. I can’t be without my fair daughter in my old age.”

  Austin’s lips parted in surprise before he snapped them back together again. He knew a lie when he heard one. He’d seen the way this man had callously tossed Gabriella at him in exchange for gold. His affection for Gabriella had nothing to do with leaving town. The man simply thought to bilk Austin for every farthing he could. “No.”

  “No?” Mr. Winston’s mouth gapped open. “You’d deny an old man his daughter in his sunset years?”

  “I’d deny you. My concern is for my wife and I think it best that you stay here.”

  “You’re concerned about her having a relationship with her own flesh and blood?” Mr. Winston said, his voice growing dramatically louder. “I might have to question the choice I made giving my daughter to you.”

  Austin flexed his hand under the table. “You can’t reverse that choice now.”

  “I can. It turns out that Father Michaels didn’t perform the ceremony properly and the marriage is—”

  “Ironclad. I saw a barrister this morning.” Austin leaned forward. “Furthermore, I will see the Archbishop of Canterbury as soon as we arrive in London to confirm the match with him. I’ll tell him to speak with Father Michaels if he has any questions.”

  Mr. Winston paled. “You don’t have access to the archbishop.”

  Austin grimaced. He didn’t want to admit his title. He’d been right from the first—Mr. Winston would never leave them be if he knew his daughter was a viscountess. “Blackwater does.”

  Winston’s mouth thinned as he pushed his chair back, standing. “You can’t take my daughter away from me.”

  “You sold her to me. Remember? Seemed happy about it at the time.”

  Three men walked into the tavern and Mr. Winston turned to look at them, paled, and sat back down, pulling his hat lower on his head.

  Austin’s gaze flicked to the hard-looking men. They weren’t from the auction that he could recall.

  “Are they looking this way?” Winston whispered.

  “Who are they?”

  Winston shrank further into his seat. “They’ve a warrant for my arrest and have obtained writ to collect on my debts.”

  Austin’s brows lifted. They used men like those on occasion at his gaming hell, the Den of Sins. They’d take the debtor to a sponging house and if he didn’t pay, it was off to public prison. “And the money I gave you?”

  “Gone,” the other man moaned. “Please. If you care for my daughter, help me.”

  Austin stood. He’d like to tell this man that prison was the best place for him, but instead, he just said, “I wish you luck.” And then he walked away.

  * * *

  Gabriella woke to the distinct sound of someone stoking the fire. She lifted up on her elbow, rubbing her eyes to see Austin’s back as he leaned over the grate. “Austin?”

  She turned and for a moment, she saw deep lines of worry etched into his face before they disappeared, his features lightening. “Did I wake you?”


  She reached a hand out to him. “I can’t believe I fell asleep at all. I never take a repose during the afternoon.”

  He grinned. “I tired you out last night.” He crossed the room, then sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ve decided we’ll stay here at the main house until we leave Overton. I’d like to head out in the next day or two but we’ve your dresses to collect and documents I’m waiting to process.”

  Her stomach clenched. “What happened with my father?”

  He winced. “He’s likely going to debtor’s prison.”

  Her hand shook as she slipped it into his. “Even after the bride price?”

  “He claims it’s gone. I can only assume he gambled it away.” He reached for her other hand. “I hope you understand that if I help him this time…”

  She shook her head. Austin should feel no guilt. “He’ll only ask again and again. And he’d never do the same for either of us.” Her head dropped. “I learned something today. I’ve no idea if my father knows it to be true or not but…” She sat up, nibbling at her lips.

  “What is it?”

  Her chin dropped. “There was a rumor that I am not my father’s child but the daughter of the Marquess of Milton.”

  Austin reached for her, pulling her into his lap. “Are you all right?”

  She shook her head. “In some ways I hope it’s true. It would explain why he’s so cold…” She swallowed. “But you’ve married a—"

  “Shhh,” he murmured. “Half of the nobility are conceived out of wedlock. I don’t give a damn, but all the same, this should stay between just the two of us.” He leaned back and stroked her cheek. “One of my dear friends is the new Marquess of Milton, though he is a somewhat distant relation to the man your mother knew.”

  She wrapped her arms about his neck. Because these were the types of things that it was so helpful to know. They were sharing their lives in a way she hadn’t…well…since her mother. And even then, she’d been a child. There had been so much her mother had never confided. “Thank you for telling me all of that.”