Tales of a Viscount

by Eleanor Meyers

  He opened his eyes and broke away from her, pacing down another hall, going further away from where the musicale would be held.

  She went after him and took his hand. He turned around to face her, and the pain in his eyes nearly crippled her. “Reuben, oh, I didn’t know.”

  “No one knows,” he told her. He grabbed her shoulders. “Not even Yall knows. You must never tell him.”

  She swallowed, feeling fear for a reason she didn’t know. “Reuben, how does Lord Yall not know if he sired a son?”

  Reuben laughed, an ugly and boisterous thing that held dark humor. “Rachel, have you been living with wool between your ears all your life? Surely you know that your class is known to do as they please, litter society with one bastard after another.”

  She pushed aside her own anger at being called ignorant, since the fact was it was likely the truth, and grabbed his shoulders. “Reuben, are you really Yall’s son?” And yet as she asked the question, she could see the truth. They were both very tall. Yall’s hair was gray, but his eyes… not even Lord Castell had inherited those formidable green eyes. “How do you know?”

  He leaned against the wall, and then slowly slid to the floor as though it were the most normal thing to do, breaking from the mold of the perfect gentleman, for a position more suited for commoners.

  Rachel didn’t think about the consequences of looking the same as she dropped to his side, her skirts spreading about her. She settled on her knees and remained close to her broken man. “How did you find this out?”

  His arms rested on his knees, his hands dangling over them. He stared at the wall across from himself, as he spoke. “The same way Alexandra and Rose found out about their percentage. I found a page in one of Mary Elizabeth’s books, long ago. It said my mother was a pretty, but very poor widow he visited frequently. When she came with child, he turned away from her, so she gave me to Mary Elizabeth.

  “How old were you?”

  He looked at her. “Old enough to recall glimpses of her. I was four when I went to live at Best Home, since my mother didn’t have to money to care for me, herself.”

  His mother had likely loved him, and thought the orphanage a better place. Her heart felt like it was breaking, yet she kept the tears from her voice. Her soldier didn’t need her sorrow. He needed someone who would fix his. Yet there was so much to take in, Rachel didn’t know where to start. “When did you find the letter?”

  “Years ago. Before we met. I was sixteen at the time. It was after Mary Elizabeth Best’s death. We were cleaning her office when I saw the book.”

  Her eyes widened. She’d known the book existed, as did the papers, but to know that Reuben had touched a book that held so many secrets, was strange in itself. Such a book, if found, would be worth its weight in gold, or more. She knew the Blue Blood Coalition wanted it, and would do violence to gain hold of it.

  But she put that thought aside, and focused on Reuben. “Sixteen? You were old enough to leave the orphanage. Did you ever find your mother?”

  He nodded. “Aye. Took me a while, but eventually I found her, though not as I’d expected. Someone had paid for her grave marker. I have no idea who. She’s buried in Bunhill Fields. She died two years before I found the book.”

  She died when he was fourteen. Was there anything more tragic? “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “She never came to see after me. It doesn’t matter.” Though it was clear it very much did matter. A single page in a book had unraveled his world, filling it with one rejection after another. Both mother and father had turned their backs on him.

  “Yet you went to see her.” She grabbed his hand. “You’re so very brave.”

  “Or foolish. She had me until I was four. Surely, that’s long enough for a mother to fall in love with her child? To see to his care? Not that I was ever mistreated at Best Home, but why not ever visit or come to see me?” He was asking her, but then looked away, as though he knew she didn’t have the answers.

  How had she known him for so many years, and never actually knew the depths of his pain? The answer came easy enough, either he’d worked hard to hide it, or had found love in others.

  Or maybe both.

  “Reuben, I know with all my heart that Rose loves you, and Alexandra. You may have never had the family that others would expect, even demand, but even with a shattered heart, you found a way to give love, and teach others to do the same. Love is never a foolish thing, I don’t believe. To love takes great courage, and you have so much of it.” She stopped when her eyes began to burn, and her throat closed, unable to say more.

  He turned to her then, and pushed through her emotions and added, “And I love you. Every bit of you, just the way you are. No, because of who you are. And there is nothing that would ever stop me from doing so.” Her final word was cut off by his mouth.

  This kiss was gentle, but just as thorough as all the other kisses Reuben had ever given her, as though with his mouth, he searched for the essence of her, lapping at the very fabric of her being.

  A throat was cleared, and Rachel lifted her head to look at the intruder.

  Their discoverer happened to be the very last man Rachel wished to see.

  REUBEN WAS sure there had been times when he’d faced worse situations, times when he’d nearly lost a limb or died, but as he stared into Lord Yall’s eyes, he couldn’t think of single instant graver than this one, for if there was ever a man Reuben never wanted to catch him at his weakest, it was Yall.

  He stood swiftly and cursed his bad fortune to have fallen apart in Castell’s home, but it had been hard to look at all his brother had, and not think of what life would have been, had he been given the opportunity to grow as a normal lord.

  But then, Rachel, with her tender heart, had showed him just how grateful he should be for the life he had. He was loved by the family he and Chris had created, and he was loved by Rachel, a woman who could have had her choice of ten princes over, but instead she’d settled for a boy who’d been born with less than nothing.

  Once again, she humbled him, and yet, strengthened him.

  He stared into Yall’s eyes, and prepared himself for anything the man had to say to him.

  Yall’s gaze was as sharp as ever, as he looked between Rachel and Reuben with open disapproval. He settled that firm gaze on Reuben, in the end. “I pray you don’t intend to teach this fine lady lessons in being as common as you.”

  A burn gathered in his heart, and Reuben wondered if his father’s words would ever cease to cause him pain.

  Rachel stepped in. “Well, Lord Eastridge may never be what the ton expects, but one cannot deny that he is a lord.”

  “But, my lady, you could have had any gentleman,” Yall said with a slight frown.

  “Then how fortunate it is, that this one chose me.” She extended her hand to the duke and said, “Has the musicale began? Perhaps, you wouldn’t mind escorting me, Your Grace?”

  “Of course.” The man bowed to her and took her hand.

  Reuben thought Rachel was taking the duke away in an effort to put distance between them, and was grateful for it. He needed time to think, but he now also had a window of opportunity to search Castell’s home.

  He walked behind Rachel and Yall a distance, and then slipped into the first door on the right.

  And struck gold.

  It was Castell’s office. A lamp lit a fair portion of the space, as though always ready for its master’s presence.

  He heard footsteps and voices. One belonging to a footman, who was being addressed by Lord Dabney, searching for a misplaced letter. Reuben quietly closed and locked the door behind him, just as it jingled.

  “The note could be in here,” Dabney said.

  The servant spoke next. “I don’t believe you would have left anything in my master’s office, my lord.”

  Dabney grunted. “Perhaps, you’re right. This way then.”

  Reuben waited for the two men to pass, before crossing to the desk. It was nic
e, but not as nice as the one Rachel had picked for his own office. An office in a home that he would share with her for the rest of his life.

  He grinned at the thought, and began to move papers around the surface, making sure he left everything as it was, when he was done. He was surprised by all the medical documents and books that his brother possessed. Perhaps, there was something to the tale of him giving aid to the king.

  What had changed his mind? Was it his mother’s influence? He’d not spoken to Lady Yall since the night they’d danced, almost sure he’d been looking in the wrong direction, yet now he regretted that he’d not pressed her for more answers.

  He moved to the bookcase and found more studies on the human body, ailments, and their various cures.

  The door opened without warning, and Reuben froze.

  Then he took a breath as Rachel stepped into the light. “What are you doing?”

  “Close the door.”

  She did so at once, and then turned back to look at him, her lips struggled to find words. “What are you doing?” she hissed. “What reason could you possibly have for sneaking into Castell’s office?” She crossed her arms, and the gesture put her lush attributes on display.

  Rachel had worn a vivid green silk dress that complemented her pale skin and the brilliance of her red hair. “Reuben, look at me.”

  He was looking at her, distracting woman. He struggled with words to explain his actions. The truth was not an option. “I…”

  What would she say if she knew the truth? It seemed Rachel liked Lord Castell. If he told her the man might be a traitor, right after telling her about their connection, it was likely she’d not believe him. She’d think him as being petty for going after a man who was clearly his rival for her affections, and a small part of Reuben felt the same, but what else was he supposed to do? Jasper’s note marked Castell as the possible assassin.

  She crossed to him and grabbed his arms. Her expression was sympathetic. “There’s likely nothing for you here, Reuben, but perhaps one day, you and Lord Castell can find some common ground.”

  He grunted, but allowed her to think that was the reason for his trespassing. “That will never happen.”

  She raised a brow and then lifted onto her toes, before stealing a kiss that left him more than dazed.

  Grinning adorably, she took his hand and led him from the room.

  Tonight was hers.

  Reuben would simply have to make plans to come again another time.

  * * *

  28

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-EIGHT

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  “My lady, your beauty remains unmatched.” Lord Stephen Dews smiled at Rachel in a way that didn’t sit well with her. She also didn’t like how flushed he looked, and the sweat that marked his brow and upper lip made him appear slightly mad.

  It was unfortunate that she needed to get around him in order to rejoin the party.

  It was two nights after Castell’s party, and Rachel had attended another event with her aunt. She’d just finished relieving herself, having dismissed the footman who followed her, because some things she simply couldn’t do with an audience, when she was cornered. She pressed her fan in front of her exposed chest, forcing Lord Stephen’s eyes back up to her own, before she tilted her lips up at the ends.

  If only Reuben had come, her heart thought. He’d missed every social event for the last week, even though he was quite attentive during the day. Whatever job he’d been asked to do kept him very busy, and kept Rachel worried.

  It had been two days since their day at the docks, and Rachel was anxious for the paint in the rooms to dry, so she could hang the paintings where they would please her most.

  Almost as anxious as she was, for Lord Stephen to leave her alone.

  She cleared her throat. “Thank you for the compliment, my lord, though I’m sure there is one lady you think more beautiful than I.”

  For a moment, Lord Stephen looked puzzled by this, then his eyes widened. “Oh, you mean Lady Annie.”

  “Your fiancée,” she reminded him, loathing that she had to remind him at all. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She tried to pass him, but he blocked her way. Her pulse jumped in fear.

  He licked his lips, as a dog would do, when he was presented with what he deemed a quite tasty bone. “My lady, I believe it’s time we stopped with the games and simply acknowledged the truth.”

  Her blood ran cold, even as she tried to keep her features pleasant. “The truth?”

  He moved in closer, and Rachel was forced to stop her retreat as her back hit the wall. “My lady—”

  “Lord Stephen.” She placed her hand on his chest and tried pushing away, though he wouldn’t budge. “Sir, you are far too close.”

  “Am I?” He leaned his face toward her, and his breath singed her nose, heavy with the smell of strong drink. “I fear that to have been my mistake all these years. I’ve been too much the gentleman, when obviously what you’ve always needed, was a savage.”

  Savage?

  She dropped her fan then and started to push him with all her might. “Stephen, stop.”

  He moaned, his look feral. “I love it when you say my name, Rachel.” He closed his eyes and his body trembled. “I’ve wanted you for so long, but you always played the wallflower. No more. It seems now is our time.”

  Was the man deranged? “I’m engaged,” she reminded him. “As are you.” She wanted to shout and draw attention, but didn’t want a scandal. She was unsure of what to do, and prayed her footman could return at any moment.

  He laughed. “Yes, we are engaged, and finally we can do what we’ve always wanted. We can be together. Society deems it all right.” His hands went to her hips, holding her in place. “Do not play as though you are virgin, my lady. We all know where Lord Eastridge comes from. He’s nothing more than a dog, humping whatever is in sight. We know he’s already deflowered you.”

  Who was we? “My lord, unhand me.” She lifted her hand to strike him, but he grabbed it.

  And his slippery mouth was upon hers, his body pushing hers into the wall and squeezing the very breath from her lungs.

  Terror grabbed hold of her limbs as she began to fight.

  His mouth trailed down her throat and she shivered at the sick feeling of it. “Yes, fight me,” he whispered. “Do you fight your barbarian of a fiancé?”

  “Stop, please.” Tears were running down her face.

  She closed her eyes and his mouth reached her collarbone, and then suddenly he was gone.

  Rachel paused, and then opened her eyes to find Stephen leaning against the other wall, his throat in Lord Castell’s grip.

  She watched Stephen struggle for breath, but found she could do nothing about it. She felt dirty to have had his mouth on her, and now he knew what it felt like to have his air restricted.

  “How dare you accost a lady!” The Earl of Castell, looking more powerful than ever, shook Stephen and slammed him against the wall once more. Rachel had never seen the man do such a thing before, or use such strength. Often, he reminded her of a Scottish collie with pale fur, who always looked happy to see its owner. Now, she knew he not only had sharp teeth, but was not afraid to bite.

  When Stephen’s face turned a ghastly shade of blue, and his eyes began to droop, Rachel knew she could stand no more. “Let him go.”

  The prince did as she’d requested immediately. “Come near her again, and I’ll finish this.”

  Stephen dropped to all fours and fought to breathe.

  Rachel glared down at him, for how long she didn’t know, but then Lord Castell was there.

  “Let us get you cleaned up.” His voice was soft, and she clung to his lean muscled arms and allowed him to take her away.

  She mindlessly allowed Frederick to lead her upstairs and into a private red sitting room, hardly noticing when he sent someone to get water and a cloth,
or when they returned.

  “My lady?”

  She looked up at him and found him to be holding out a damp rag, his eyes gentle.

  “Are you all right?”

  She took the cloth but didn’t know how to answer. The moment she placed it on her neck, she began to feel better, and quickly she found herself scrubbing Lord Stephen away, though she couldn’t scrub her tears away fast enough. They kept coming, and then she was sobbing.

  Strong arms went around her, and she heard Castell’s voice whispering to her that she was all right, that she had nothing to fear, that no one would breathe a word about what took place tonight.

  She wasn’t sure, but perhaps a half hour had passed before she was calm again.

  “Would you like me to get your carriage?” he asked. “We can slip out the back door, so no one sees you. I can go and get your aunt, as well.”

  She looked up at him, and finally felt brave enough to meet his eyes. “You’re too kind, my lord.”

  He smiled at her. “I’m simply being a gentleman, my lady.”

  She tilted her head and didn’t know why she said what she did next, but knew she must. “Why do you taunt Lord Eastridge?” And then she knew why she’d said them. Frederick was his brother. Surely, they should get along.

  The prince’s eyes widened, and then the very tops of his cheeks colored in embarrassment. “Excuse me, my lady?”

  She grabbed his hand. “I like you as a friend, Castell.” And though no one would ever know it, he was also to be her brother-in-law. “Please, try and make peace with Eastridge.”

  Castell blinked, and then inclined his head. “For you, my lady, I will try.” He smiled. “And since we are friends, you may call me Frederick.”

  She grinned. “Only if you extend the same curtesy to Reuben.”

  Prince frowned and made no comment. Then he stood and held out his hand. “Let’s get you home.”