Taming The Viscountess

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  Both left the room, allowing him a moment to get up from the chair without anyone seeing how awkward it was to balance without two full legs. One of these days he was sure he’d be able to do this with ease, but at the moment, he still handled it with far less grace than he liked.

  By the time the butler returned with the two gentlemen, he was standing by the decanter and pouring three glasses of brandy on his desk.

  “Gentlemen, take a drink and have a seat,” Sebastian said, nodding toward two chairs that were in front of the desk.

  The two picked up their glasses then went to the chairs. Sebastian moved his glass to the edge of the desk. He proceeded to sit on the desk. That way, when it came time for him to stand, he could jump down from the desk instead of having to get up from the chair.

  “Forgive me, gentlemen, but I can’t remember how much my brother owed you,” Sebastian began. “Do you mind refreshing my memory?”

  “Your brother didn’t owe either one of us anything,” Lord Edon said. “We don’t lend money out.”

  “No, we’re not here to receive a payment,” Mr. Robinson added after he took a sip of his brandy. He lifted the glass. “This is good, by the way.”

  “I’m glad you like it,” Sebastian replied. Turning back to the conversation, he asked, “If you two aren’t here because of my brother’s debts, then why are you here?”

  “We heard you married Miss Barlow,” Lord Edon said.

  “She’s Lord Worsley’s sister,” Mr. Robinson added.

  “I know who she is,” Sebastian replied. “I just married her this morning.”

  “Is she as awful as people say?” Mr. Robinson asked.

  “Christopher, you can’t pose that kind of question to a newly married gentleman,” Lord Edon said. “The least you can do is let him be with her a few months. By then, she’ll stop being on her best behavior.”

  “Ethan, that might be true with some ladies, but Miss Barlow is the exception,” Christopher said. “Everyone knows she’s awful. That’s why no one wanted to marry her.” Christopher gestured to Sebastian. “He was the only one willing to do it, and he had to get paid to take her.”

  “It’s true that I received payment to marry her,” Sebastian spoke up before Ethan could reply. “It was in the form of her dowry. I believe most gentlemen receive one when they marry.”

  “Yes,” Christopher began, “but you were the only one brave enough to take Miss Barlow. I’m sure there were other ladies—”

  “A lot nicer,” Ethan added.

  “With a dowry sufficient enough to pay your brother’s debts,” Christopher concluded.

  “But you chose the most difficult lady in London,” Ethan said. “And it has all of the gentlemen at White’s ready to make a wager. We just want to know how long it’ll take before you give her back to her brother.”

  Sebastian studied their expressions to make sure they were telling him the truth about the wager. They couldn’t be. It was too outrageous. But as he stared them down, they didn’t seem to be joking.

  “Are you two serious?” Sebastian finally asked.

  “Yes,” Ethan replied then sipped his brandy. “At White’s we bet on almost everything. Your marriage just happens to be the most recent thing.”

  “We want to make sure we’re on the winning side,” Christopher added. “So, how certain are you that you will be able to tolerate her for six months.”

  “You think he can last that long?” Ethan asked his friend.

  “I think so,” Christopher replied. “Not being a member of White’s, he did enter the place as if he was. That’s no small feat.”

  “I don’t know.” Ethan crossed his legs and examined Sebastian. “Miss Barlow is the greatest terror in all of London. Even her brother was distraught about not being able to get rid of her.”

  “He didn’t come out and say he was distraught,” Christopher told Sebastian.

  “But he was,” Ethan said. “He had the look of desperation all over his face. I know that look very well. I get it every time my father-in-law invites me over for fencing.” He turned his attention back to Sebastian. “Lord Worsley would probably have sold everything but his title if it meant someone would marry her.”

  Sebastian finished his brandy then set it down on the desk. “Well, there was no need for him to do that. I was more than willing to marry her.”

  “Six months it is!” Christopher cheered, his enthusiasm prompting him to nearly jump out of his chair, which led to him almost spilling his brandy. “Sorry.” He settled back into the chair.

  Sebastian placed both hands on the table and leaned forward. “I don’t often get involved in other gentlemen’s wagers. However much money you and the others want to waste is up to you. But I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’m not going to send her back to her brother. Ever. She is my wife. She stays with me until the day she dies.”

  Ethan’s eyes lit up. “Ah, so you’re planning to kill her.”

  The idea was so absurd that Sebastian paused before answering. “I’m not going to kill her. Celia is in no danger with me.”

  “Hmm…” Christopher stroked his jaw and then snapped his fingers. “You’re going to confine her to the country where she’ll never be seen or heard from again. How convenient. You gentlemen with your country estates have all the luck.”

  “No, I’m not going to force her to live a life of solitude in the country, either,” Sebastian replied. “I’m going to keep her alive—and with me—for our entire lives. So the answer to your wager is that we shall be together until we die.”

  “Be sensible,” Ethan said. “She’s impossible. There’s no way you can handle her that long.”

  Sebastian chuckled. Leave it to someone so soft to make that comment. “She might be impossible for every other gentleman in London, but she isn’t impossible for me. I know how to deal with people like her. I’ve served my time aboard a ship with unruly crewmen. They quickly learned that they better not try to usurp my authority.”

  Ethan, who’d been sipping more brandy, quickly swallowed the drink and straightened up. “Are you saying that you can tame her?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Sebastian crossed his arms. “I don’t know what you gentlemen are used to, but Celia is not all that difficult. She just needs someone who isn’t going to let her get away with making him a fool.”

  “And you’re sure that someone is you?” Christopher challenged.

  “Any captain worth his ship makes sure no one takes the helm…unless he grants them permission, of course.” Sebastian could tell by their expressions that they weren’t sure he could actually handle Celia who was, according to Ethan, the greatest terror in all of London. “All right. I’ll make a wager with everyone at White’s. You’re all welcome to bet how long it’ll take for me to send Celia back to her brother. I’ll bet you all that I’ll not only keep her right here with me, but I’ll also make her one of the sweetest ladies in all of London.”

  Ethan and Christopher burst out laughing, something that didn’t surprise him. Their entire lives were spent in comfort. All they did was go from one ball to another, drink their brandy, play their games, and eat until they were too stuffed to move.

  They’d never spent months subject to the whims of the sea, which were one day favorable and the next day unforgiving. They’d never seen a whale so up close that it looked them right in the eye. They’d never lost some cargo overboard in the face of a storm, only to go hungry until they caught their own food. They never once had to go out and work with their own two hands to make a living. Sacrifice for them meant having to open their own doors instead of having the footman do it for them.

  “You’re laughing now,” Sebastian told them, “but you won’t be laughing come the end of January. You said that by six months, I’ll be sending her back to her brother’s,” he told Christopher. “Six months from now, she’ll be living with me and she’ll be a very sweet lady.”

  “How much are you willing to be
t?” Ethan asked.

  “I have three pounds I can spare.” Noting the way they balked, he added, “Of course, if that’s too steep for you to manage, then I can go lower, though it would only go to show how little you believe you’re right.”

  “We’ll do three pounds,” Christopher said.

  “And that’s for every gentleman who puts something into the wager,” Sebastian clarified, lest they try to get away with risking less. “If I’m going to put in three pounds of my own money, then each one of you needs to do the same. I want to be there when this wager is made, and I want a list of every gentleman who’s going to bet against me.” With a smile, he added, “I need to know who to demand payments from come January.”

  The door opened, and Celia barged into the room. Ethan and Christopher bolted to their feet, and this time, Christopher did spill brandy on the rug.

  “I want to have a word with you,” Celia told Sebastian, ignoring the two gentlemen.

  “I’ll speak with you when I’m good and ready,” Sebastian replied.

  “We should go,” Christopher told Ethan.

  The two set their glasses down. Sebastian thought about calling out to the two cowards, but then he figured he’d stand a much better chance at winning the ridiculous wager if he held his tongue. Let them assume he couldn’t handle Celia. The more they doubted him, the more money he’d get.

  He waited until Ethan and Christopher left, resembling scared rats running from a kitten, before he directed his attention to his wife.

  “I’ve had some time to think about the way you treated me at the wedding breakfast,” Celia said, crossing her arms and glaring at him. “I won’t have it. You can order the servants to do whatever you want, but you won’t do that to me. I was born and bred to be a lady, and I insist on being treated like one.”

  Well, he had to hand it to her. She had more courage than the two gentlemen who’d just left. For all he knew, she probably had more courage than the entire elite in London. Had she been a crewmember, he would have been impressed by her bold speech and her willingness to speak her mind even though it’d cause her a punishment for doing so.

  Holding her gaze, he snapped his fingers and pointed to the chair in front of him. “Sit.”

  She frowned. “You can’t be serious.”

  He pointed to the chair again.

  “Are you saying you won’t talk to me unless I’m sitting?” she asked, her tone hovering between bewilderment and anger.

  Instead of answering, he continued to stare her down.

  After a moment, she groaned and sat in the chair, once more crossing her arms and glaring at him in defiance.

  He felt the corner of his lip curl up. He really liked her passion. It was passion misdirected, but it was passion all the same. “Celia,” he began as he folded his hands on his lap, “you seem to have the impression that you’re the master of this place. Since this is the first day of our marriage, I’ll let your inappropriate behavior go unpunished. But be warned, if you persist in acting this way, you won’t like the consequences.”

  She gave him a long look before she laughed. “I won’t like the consequences? How about the fact that you won’t like the consequences if you make me stay at the dining table until I finish everything on my plate again?”

  “There’s nothing you can do to me that will bother me.”

  “No?”

  “No. I’m not your brother, and I’m not the other gentlemen in this town who are too scared to deal with you.”

  “How can they be scared of me?”

  He shrugged. “I have no idea. I’ve been trying to figure that out all day. You’re not the least bit intimidating.”

  “I don’t know whether you just insulted me or not, but I don’t care much for your comment.”

  “I don’t care if you care for it or not. My goal isn’t for you to like me, love. We’re already married, and I have your dowry. The only thing that matters from this point forward is your attitude.”

  She put her hand on her chest. “My attitude?”

  “Yes. Quite frankly, it’s appalling. You’re just like the spotted female hyena. Loud, obnoxious—”

  She bolted to her feet. “Loud and obnoxious?”

  “You didn’t let me finish. You’re also domineering. Unfortunately for you, I’m not like the other gentlemen in London who play the role of the spotted male hyena. I’m not going to cower and do whatever you want. I’m the one in control.” Then, to prove his point, he grabbed his crutch so he could stand in front of her, the difference in height making it so that she had to look up at him. “If you ever barge into this room again while I have a guest, I’ll make you wash the rug where he spills his drink.”

  He gestured to the rug which was stained with the brandy, and since he didn’t look away from her, she let out a long sigh and lowered her gaze to the floor so she could see it.

  “Since it’s our wedding day,” he continued, “I won’t make you do it this time.”

  “How gracious of you,” she replied, her voice laced with sarcasm.

  “Actually, it is.” He picked up the bell on the desk and rang it. Then he turned back to face her. “My crew would have been shocked to know I let anyone get away with what you just did. But you’re not completely to blame for the way you are. As much as I like your brother, I have to admit he spoiled you.”

  “He didn’t spoil me. He was a good brother.”

  “No. If he was a good brother, he would have given you rules to live by. From what I can tell, he let you do whatever you wanted. Until recently.” He did have to give Anthony credit for forcing her to get married, but he suspected that was out of desperation, just as Ethan had said. “Things are going to be different from now on. You’re not going to get away with the things you usually do.”

  The butler came into the room, and Sebastian asked the butler to have the maid clean the rug.

  After the butler left, she said, “There’s nothing wrong with the way I act.”

  “The sad thing is you believe that.”

  She frowned at him again, and he could tell she didn’t like his response. But what else could he tell her? It wouldn’t do her any favors to lie to her. Sure, she had some notable qualities, but what good were they when she persisted in being difficult?

  With a huff, she straightened her back. “Of all the horrible things that have happened to me on this day, I have the comfort of knowing you won’t be bothering me tonight.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “You won’t be able to consummate the marriage,” she said, looking quite smug as she spoke.

  Amused, he asked, “What makes you think that?”

  “You know why.” When he didn’t reply, she gestured to his leg. “You’ve been injured.”

  “It was my leg that suffered the injury, not the part of me that I need for consummating the marriage.”

  The smirk left her face.

  “I assure you that I’m fully capable of doing it,” he said.

  For a moment, she looked defeated but then that spark returned to her eye. “Then I shall run from you. You won’t be able to catch me. That crutch won’t enable you to be fast enough.”

  “I could have the maids and butler chain you to the bed.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “You wouldn’t!”

  “I did tie a crewman to the mast of my ship.”

  Celia, face going white, ran out of the room. He suspected she was going to lock her bedchamber door. If he could keep up with her, he would follow her to find out.

  But it didn’t matter. He had no intention of going to her bed tonight. When he took her to bed, he wanted her to be willing to be with him. And she would be. Soon enough. In the meantime, he had a suspicion life was going to get a lot more interesting now that she was around.

  ***

  Celia slid the top of the chair right up under the doorknob connecting her bedchamber with her husband’s so that he wouldn’t be able to open the door.

  Her husb
and. She grimaced. This marriage was the worst thing that had ever happened to her. How could her brother do this to her? Didn’t he realize that by leaving her here in this townhouse, he was forcing her to be alone with a wolf?

  After making sure the chair was going to secure the door in place, she took another chair and went to the door that led to the hallway and shoved it in place. Neither door had a lock, so she had to do her best to come up with a solution to her dilemma.

  She could not allow him to come into this room. His hands on her body? His mouth on her body? His body on hers? She shuddered. No. She could not do it. Even if it was her duty, she just couldn’t bring herself to go through with it. He was going to die without an heir. That was just how things were going to be.

  Tears welled up in her eyes. This was the worst day of her life. She knew things were going to be bad when her brother told her he’d arranged for her to marry someone who used to be the captain of a ship. One could never expect a captain to show any manners, much less be a gentleman. But even she had underestimated how horrible he really was.

  He’d been rude. Outright rude to her. And right in front of the staff! Imagine him telling the butler he had to stay with her and make sure she ate everything on her plate before she could leave the room! She was surprised he didn’t insist the entire staff come into the den and listen as he compared her to some animal she’d never heard of or telling her how he planned to come to her bed so he could ravish her like a common barmaid.

  She had a mind to tell her brother exactly what she thought of him for her current predicament. After a moment, she hurried to the small room off the side of her bedchamber and pulled open the top drawer in the desk. Parchment! She lifted her gaze to the top of the desk and noticed the inkwell. She removed the cap from the ink and dipped the quill into it. Excellent!

  Sitting down, she grabbed a piece of paper and dipped the quill back into the inkwell. As soon as the tip of the quill hit the paper, the words came flowing out. She let him know exactly what horrible things the captain had said to her in the den. Then she criticized her brother for allowing her—his only sister—to be under the thumb of such a brute. She described in great detail how much she was suffering, too. That part alone took three more pages.