Taming The Viscountess

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  Sebastian slowly came further into the room as he listened in on what was going on.

  “I’m serious,” Anthony was telling the group of gentlemen. “Isn’t there anyone who’s willing to marry my sister?”

  “You can’t pawn your sister off on us,” a gentleman argued.

  “Yes, what do you take us for? Barbarians?” another chimed in.

  “It’s not a matter of being a barbarian,” the first gentleman said. “The fact is, no one is stupid enough to take her.”

  “That’s awfully cruel to say,” the second replied.

  “No,” a third intervened. “Sadly, it’s not. He’s telling the truth. Miss Barlow would make a terrible wife. She’s manipulative, rude, and contrary. No lady is worth all the hassle. Lord Worsley, you’ll just have to commit her to spinsterhood.”

  “She can’t be that bad,” the second said.

  “She is,” a fourth called out. “Some call her Miss Shrew Barlow.”

  “You’d have to pay one of us to take her,” the fourth gentleman said. “Though, I’m not desperate enough to do it, no matter how much you’d offer.”

  The group chuckled in response, and a few of the gentlemen murmured they also wouldn’t marry her for all the money in the world.

  Sebastian scanned the room and saw that absolutely none of them were willing to take the bait. Maybe he shouldn’t either, but the hook was dangling right in front of him and he needed money. It was no secret that Lord Worsley was wealthy.

  “How much?” Sebastian called out.

  Everyone stopped talking amongst themselves and turned to face him.

  “Pardon?” Lord Worsley asked.

  “How much will you give me if I marry your sister?” Sebastian replied.

  Chapter Two

  The room had become so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. The gentlemen, who’d been unaware Sebastian was even standing in the room moments before, were all watching him with great interest. Sebastian didn’t know if his offer to marry Lord Worsley’s sister was responsible for their stunned silence or if they were startled to see someone who wasn’t a member invading their club.

  After a very long moment, Lord Worsley approached him. “I thought you didn’t want to get married.”

  Sebastian shrugged. “I have no reason to go back to sea.” He gestured to his missing leg. “I inherited my brother’s title. I’m stuck with a lot of debt, and it’s up to me to produce an heir. I know ladies usually come with dowries. Judging by our past dealings, you can probably provide a sizable dowry to go with your sister. I could use the money to help my estate. You want to see your sister married. I think this arrangement could be beneficial to both of us, especially since no one else is willing to take her.”

  “He’s certainly not one to mince words,” one of the gentleman murmured under his breath.

  “You’re right,” Sebastian told him. “I’m not. I say exactly what I mean, and I mean what I say.” He turned his gaze back to Lord Worsley. “Are you interested?”

  Lord Worsley glanced at the other gentlemen before he turned back to Sebastian. “Let’s talk in the other room.”

  “Don’t do that,” one of the gentlemen said. “We want to hear this.”

  “I’m taking the deal,” Lord Worsley replied. “That’s all you need to know.” Lord Worsley gestured for Sebastian to go in front of him. “We’ll go to that room over there.”

  Sebastian glanced at the small room off to the side of this one. With a nod, he hobbled over to it. He wasn’t as quick as he used to be. In the past, he would have strode to the room with purpose. Now, he had no such luxury. It took him longer than anyone else to walk, and because Lord Worsley was behind him, he was slowing Lord Worsley down. Because of that, he was acutely aware that all of the gentlemen were watching him.

  Pretending the whole thing didn’t bother him, he made it to the room.

  Lord Worsley shut the door behind them and went to the decanter. “Would you like some brandy?”

  “Yes, brandy will be fine, thank you,” he replied.

  After Lord Worsley poured brandy into two glasses, he turned to him. “Would you like me to set your glass on the table by that chair?”

  “No. I can do it.”

  Sebastian took the glass and did his best to hop over to the chair without spilling the drink. If he was going to live with this disability, he needed to learn to do common things. The sooner he did, the sooner everyone around him wouldn’t feel the need to do things for him. He’d never relied on others for help before, and he wasn’t about to start now. The handicap was only a setback. It didn’t define who he was, and it didn’t make him less of a gentleman. All it did was keep him from the sea.

  When he reached the chair, he set aside his crutch so it was leaning against it. Then, being careful with the glass, he settled into the chair. Though he spilled a little portion of the brandy on his breeches, he pretended he hadn’t done so, hoping Lord Worsley hadn’t noticed. He looked up at Lord Worsley, who hadn’t taken his seat yet.

  Lord Worsley blinked as if he suddenly remembered where he was and hurried to sit across from him. Sebastian sighed. He should have expected people to feel uncomfortable around him.

  Sebastian took a sip of the brandy to help him relax. Maybe, in time, people wouldn’t feel so awkward around him. “I have a lot of debts to pay off. Some belong to my brother, but I also have some of my own to settle, too. For instance, I fully intend to reimburse you for the money you invested in my last voyage out to sea.”

  “That’s not necessary, Lord Erandon. All of us who invested into your voyage knew there was a chance you wouldn’t be coming back with anything.”

  “I know, but I feel it is only right that I do this.”

  “You couldn’t have predicted a storm would nearly overtake your ship.”

  He shrugged. Maybe not, but somehow it seemed like he should have been able to do something to protect his crew and the cargo they were carrying. That was the thing a good captain did.

  “I can tell you’re a proud gentleman,” Lord Worsley said as he crossed his legs and settled back into the chair.

  “Pride has nothing to do with it. All of my life, I’ve worked for what I got. I don’t take anything without earning it, and I didn’t earn the money you and your friends paid me. I knew the risks when I went to sea. I should probably just be glad I survived the storm.”

  “But you’re not?”

  Sebastian shrugged. “What does it matter? Either way, I’m still here, and I have a lot of work to do to get the estate in order. So, do we have a deal? I’ll save your sister from a life of spinsterhood and you help me save my estate.”

  “Do you remember my sister?”

  “Not really.”

  “She was at the dinner party I hosted right before you headed out to sea,” Lord Worsley replied. “You escorted Lady Hedwrett to the dinner, and afterwards, you, Lord Durrant, and I discussed the route you planned to take. You also told us the story about Emperor Caligula taking seashells for booty.”

  Yes, Sebastian remembered the part where they had discussed those things. He thought over the rest of the evening, but the ladies in attendance had been a blur. He hadn’t been paying much attention to the conversation during the dinner because he had been busy thinking of how freeing it would be to get back out to sea.

  “My sister was the one who kept talking about Lady Eloise’s group,” Lord Worsley said.

  Again, Sebastian had trouble pairing the face with a name.

  “She also went on and on about clothes, the Ton, balls…” Lord Worsley shrugged. “Now that I think about, she did most of the talking.”

  If she’d been droning on and on about those topics, was it any wonder why Sebastian couldn’t remember her? “I’m sorry. I don’t recall what she looks like.”

  “She has dark hair. She’s shorter than most ladies and is a little plump. Some might consider her curvy, though it’s hard to make that kind of analysis since she’s my sist
er. All I know is that she resembles our grandmother. Except my grandmother was a sweet lady.”

  “To be honest, I still don’t remember her. I was too excited about going out to sea to take a good look at the ladies in attendance at your townhouse that evening.”

  “It doesn’t matter. She’s attractive, but her looks aren’t enough to convince anyone to marry her.” Lord Worsley took a long swallow of his brandy then set the glass on his lap. “She’s just as bad as those gentlemen said. I wish I could tell you they were exaggerating, but they’re not. I love her. She’s my sister. We grew up together. But I can’t ignore the way she is.” He let out a long sigh and threw his head back. “And the problem is, she’s not getting any better. She’s only getting worse. It’s my fault. I spoiled her. I let her have everything she wanted.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “Because our parents rarely ever saw us, and I thought by giving her things, it would help fill in the void they had left. Also,” he added, though his reluctant tone indicated he really didn’t want to continue but felt he had to, “it was easier to buy her things than it was to spend time with her. The more I think about it, the more I’m afraid this is my fault.” He paused. “Are you really willing to marry a lady like my sister?”

  “Yes. I’ve been captain over many men, and some of them were worse than she sounds. Marrying her doesn’t scare me.”

  Lord Worsley studied him for a long moment, and Sebastian could tell he was trying to decide whether or not to go through with it.

  “Do you want her to get married or not?” Sebastian asked.

  After a long moment, Lord Worsley nodded, and the two worked out how much her dowry would be.

  ***

  “You’re getting married,” Anthony said as he barged into his sister’s bedchamber.

  Celia sat up in her bed where she’d been staring at the ceiling. “You can’t be serious.”

  “The wedding will be in two days. I already secured a special license for you and Sebastian.”

  “Who?”

  “Lord Erandon. He used to go by Captain Egan. He was here earlier this year when I had a dinner party.” Catching sight of the assortment of foods on two tables in the room, he asked, “Aren’t you going to eat any of that?”

  “I can’t eat when I’m upset.”

  “Then why did you order Cook to make all this food?”

  She stood up and crossed her arms. “The better question is why you would pair me up with a captain.” Then her face went pale. “He’s not the one who hunts for whales, is he?” Dear God, if she had to marry a captain, it’d better be one who went to Africa to retrieve precious gems or India to get expensive spices!

  “He used to hunt for whales.”

  It was as horrible as she’d thought. “I have no interest in such a captain.”

  “As it turns out, he doesn’t have any interest in you, either.”

  “If he’s not interested in me, then why would he marry me?”

  “Because you have a nice dowry. It’s just as you usually say, Celia. There’s nothing in this world money can’t buy.”

  She frowned. “That’s not funny.”

  “I wasn’t being funny,” he replied. “What you did with Corin still has me so upset I can barely sleep. Corin and Candace are blaming each other for the scandal.”

  “Candace?”

  “Lady Hedwrett. The widow who never wanted to get married again. Thanks to you, she has to.”

  “If she doesn’t want to marry Corin, I’ll take her place,” Celia said. Inspired, she hurried to add, “It would only be fair that I right the wrong I did.”

  “Oh no, you don’t. They are to marry, and there’s nothing you can do to prevent it. You’re going to marry the captain.”

  “But if Corin isn’t already married, we can stop him from having to be with a lady he doesn’t want.”

  “He doesn’t want to be with you, either.” He shook his head at her. “I don’t understand you, Celia. I already explained all of that to you. Don’t you listen when I talk?”

  It couldn’t be true. Corin wanted to marry her. He just had to want it. She loved him. She would do anything—even get into a scandal—to be with him. And that scandal would have cost her the coveted membership into the Ladies of Grace group. How could he not want to be with someone who would do all of that for him?

  “I know you find this hard to accept,” Anthony continued, his voice taking on a softer tone, “but not all gentlemen want to be your husband.”

  “I don’t want all gentlemen. I only want one.”

  “Well, he doesn’t want you.”

  Celia saw a movement from the corner of her eye and glanced at the doorway in time to see Damara passing by in the hallway. “Damara,” she called out.

  When Damara paused, Celia ran out of the room to catch up to her.

  “Damara, can’t you talk some sense into my brother?” Celia asked. “He does whatever you want. Can’t you explain to him that Corin wants to marry me?”

  Damara glanced from her to Anthony, who had followed Celia out of the room. Damara winced as her gaze went back to Celia. “I can’t do that, Celia. Corin doesn’t feel the same way you do. Besides, does it even matter? He’s to marry Candace.”

  “Why is everyone against me?” Celia asked, unwelcome tears springing up in her eyes. Never in her entire life had she been more frustrated. “First, you.” She gestured to Anthony. “Then Loretta. And now you.” Her gaze went to Damara. “All of you are supposed to care about me, but you’re not trying to make me happy.”

  “Make you happy?” Anthony asked, bewildered. “People aren’t put here in this world to make you happy, Celia.”

  “It’s obvious you don’t want me to be happy,” Celia snapped at him.

  Damara placed her arm around Celia’s shoulders. “We do want you to be happy, but you can’t have everything you want.”

  Celia brushed her arm off of her shoulders and glared at her. “That’s easy for you to say. You got my brother, and,” she glared at Anthony, “you have her. You didn’t marry Loretta like you had promised. You broke your promise so you could be happy. And yet, when I make a move to do something similar, you punish me for it. This isn’t fair, and you both know it.”

  Damara’s face flushed red, and she looked as if she was trying to come up with a response, but it was Anthony who answered.

  “We’ve been as nice as we can be,” he said. “But you won’t accept the truth when it is right in front of you. You will marry Sebastian in two days. The marriage has been arranged, and I’ve already given him your dowry. You will stay in your bedchamber until we’re ready for the wedding.”

  “Do we really have to keep her in there?” Damara asked.

  “It’s the only way I can guarantee that she doesn’t try to run off,” he replied. “If she’s willing to arrange it so that Corin is partially undressed at a ball, then she’s capable of anything. I’m not hurting her. I’m just keeping her where she can’t do anything to ruin someone else’s life. She can eat whatever she wants, she can read whatever she wants, and she can write as many missives as she wants. But she can’t leave the room until the vicar is ready to marry her to Sebastian.”

  Since Damara relented, Anthony took Celia by the elbow and escorted her back to her bedchamber.

  “I’m sorry it’s come to this, but you’ve given me no choice,” Anthony told Celia. “I can only hope that Sebastian can handle being married to you.”

  “Handle being married to me?” Celia asked, appalled that he would put it that way. “There’s nothing wrong with me, Anthony. I’m just fine.”

  They stopped in her bedchamber, and he looked down at her. For the first time, she saw something in his eyes she’d never seen before when he made eye contact with her. Regret. But regret over what? Over having her for a sister?

  “What are you thinking?” she demanded.

  “I’m thinking Sebastian is going to have more trouble with you than he eve
r did hunting whales.” Then, without another word, he left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

  Chapter Three

  Two mornings later while Sebastian waited for Anthony and Damara to bring Celia to his townhouse, the vicar sat with him in the drawing room. Sebastian was content to sit in silence and wait for his bride. The vicar, unfortunately, kept asking him questions about his time at sea.

  Though Sebastian answered all of them, he wished Celia would show up so the conversation would end. He only obliged the vicar because the gentleman was being nice. There was no way the gentleman could know how much talking about the sea depressed him. All it did was remind him of all the excitement and fun he would never have again. Because he no longer had the full use of both of his legs, his life was going to be dull and meaningless.

  “My cousin was on a ship once, and he said the waves made him sick,” the vicar said. “How did you manage it?”

  “I have a strong stomach,” Sebastian replied, recalling the soothing feel of the ship as it rode the waves. Even the thought of it made him wish he could feel the sea air on his face once more. “Some can handle it and others can’t. It’s best that those who can’t avoid the sea life.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, my cousin never got back on a ship again. Once was all it took for him to know it wasn’t for him. Besides, he wasn’t out doing the kind of things you were. He was making a trip to India.”

  The footman hurried to the front door, and Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief. Good. The discussion could now be at an end.

  The vicar rose up from his chair first and offered to help Sebastian, but Sebastian shook his head. “I can do it.”

  It took Sebastian longer than he wished to get his balance between the arm of the chair and the crutch, but in the end, he was able to get up, though he did stumble as he tucked the crutch under his arm.