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Regency Romance: To Love A Viscount (CLEAN Historical Romance)

Page 4

by Jessie Bennett


  The young lady was accompanied by two younger women and an older one, who he believed to be her mother. She had little in common with the younger girls, but since they looked a lot like the mother, George supposed that they were her sisters.

  The gentleman waited for the lady to linger alone by the dance floor for a moment and walked towards her. She noticed him approaching and made sure to turn around, standing with her back to him. That was surprising, too.

  “Allow me to introduce myself, my lady,” George said politely, making an elegant bow in front of her. “My name is Lord George Geoffrays. I would be very honored if you would dance with me.”

  “It’s not appropriate for you to introduce yourself to me, Lord Geoffrays,” the lady said seriously, returning his bow slowly.

  “I thought that for once, it would not be considered inappropriate for me to do it,” the gentleman said, standing his ground. “After all, I know almost no one here, and if I have to wait for someone to introduce me to everyone else, I might never have the chance to dance.”

  “I am sorry to say this sir, but I don’t feel like dancing right now,” the lady once again looked away from him, her eyes searching for her sisters.

  “May I at least ask for your name, my lady?” George asked with another bow, slightly irritated by her answer.

  “Charlotte Roberts,” she said with a sigh. “My name is Lady Charlotte Roberts, Sir, and I have come here tonight to support my sisters, so I am not inclined to dance.”

  “In that case, Lady Roberts, I will leave you alone,” the gentleman took a few steps back before speaking again. “It was nice to talk to you, Lady Roberts.”

  George turned around and walked back to his place near the window. From there, he prepared to watch the crowd as before. Lady Charlotte Roberts had severely injured his pride, and George wasn’t in the mood to look for another dancing partner. He had no idea why, but Charlotte had attracted his attention as soon as she had walked into the ballroom and after her refusal to dance with him, George wasn’t interested in anyone else.

  “What are you doing here all alone?” James approached his friend and offered him a glass of wine. “Don’t you see all these beautiful ladies around us?”

  “I just invited one of those nice-looking ladies to dance with me, and she said no,” George said sarcastically, raising his glass to his friend. “Do you know what I think about young ladies? They are too accomplished and too closed up in their little worlds to understand how the real world works. What do you think any of these young women know about the horrors of the war, about hunger and fear?”

  “George, why do they need to know all that?” James almost laughed at his friend. “We fight in those wars so that our mothers and wives can have safe and comfortable lives.”

  “And when we return, they don’t want to dance with us,” he stated. “Look at her. Look how she stands there calm and happy.”

  “Who hurt you so badly, my friend?” James continued to tease his friend.

  “Lady Charlotte Roberts,” George said sternly, looking in the direction of the lady that had said no to him. He wasn’t used to dealing with young ladies, but he wasn’t completely inexperienced when it came to courting beautiful women. The difference between him and James was that George looked at the women with a very critical eye. “It seems that she came to your ball only to stay with her sisters.”

  “Roberts, Roberts? Aren’t those the three sisters I was telling you about?” James asked, also looking at them. “And who is the horrible woman who didn’t want to dance with you?”

  “The one with the dark hair and blue dress,” George said reluctantly.

  “Oh, you mean the one who is walking towards the dance floor with that handsome gentleman?” He asked, pointing at the couple that was joining the dance floor. They looked beautiful together and smiled at each other lovingly. “Maybe you weren’t the gentleman she wanted to dance with?”

  Lady Charlotte Roberts was an excellent dancer, George noticed, and her partner seemed to be triumphal to dance by her side. But who was he? George didn’t waste any more time. He approached Mrs. Clark, one of the older ladies who was known for her knowledge of everything and everyone.

  “Mrs. Clark,” George asked after the initial greetings, “Who is the young man dancing with Lady Charlotte Roberts? I saw him a while ago, but don’t seem to remember his name.”

  “Oh, dear, Mr. Geoffrays,” the lady exclaimed. “Lady Charlotte is dancing with Viscount Francis Turner, a very charming young man whose family, unfortunately, has been struggling lately.”

  “Right, thank you, Mrs. Clark. I knew that I could count on you,” George thanked her and walked away.

  George couldn’t help feeling angry with Charlotte Roberts for her unexpected behavior. Weren’t the young ladies supposed to search for husbands? Why, then, would she refuse him so bluntly? Thankfully, no one heard her answer to him, and George was at least able to keep his dignity in front of the rest of the guests. He felt that he had been personally slighted by Charlotte.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, George remembered the promise he made to his father, but after Charlotte’s refusal to dance with him, he didn’t feel like dancing with anyone else. A ball could be tiring when there was no one to talk to or to dance with.

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  It hurt his pride to be poor, but it hurt his heart to be in Emma’s presence and be unable to look her in the eyes.

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  CHAPTER EIGHT

  RAGS AND RICHES

  “Where so many hours have been spent in convincing myself that I am right, is there not some reason to fear I may be wrong?”

  Jane Austen

  Northavon

  The day after the ball, Baron Roberts and his youngest daughter arrived in town, riding in their family carriage. It was a great day and the autumn air was warm against their skin thanks to the sun, shining in the sky. Because of all the excitement of the last few days, Emma had a difficult time sleeping. She was still sad about her Great Aunt’s sudden death, and at the same time, she was grateful to the old lady for giving her the gift she had given her.

  “Your Aunt gave you the opportunity to have a great future,” the Baroness kept repeating to her younger daughter. “You have no idea how fortunate you are to be given this money now that you are at the right age to be married. Neither of your sisters had this fortune.”

  “I know, Mother,” Emma kept repeating. “I will be grateful to Aunt Rose for the rest of my life.”

  Her father was calmer about the whole situation, but Emma could see how relaxed and happy he was after the news came to them. Baron Roberts was contemplating a bright future for his younger daughter, something he had barely hoped to see only a few days ago.

  Thus, the very next day the Baron took her to town so that they could settle Emma’s affairs and get access to her new fortune. It was a necessarily annoying job to do, something the Baron considered a hard task.

  “Emma,” he told his daughter when they were going to enter the bank, “Let me do the talking and you just sign where they tell you to sign. Hopefully the whole thing will only take a few minutes.”

  “Yes, Papa,” Emma smiled sweetly at him, her eyes nervously running from the door of the bank to the street.

  Meanwhile, inside the bank Francis was talking to the bank manager, making the last arrangements for his future job. It was easy for him to get the job, though he lacked experience. What was hard to do was to lower his head and forget who he was and how people were looking at him. A Viscount becoming a bank clerk was unheard of, although, there were rumors of many noblemen taking different kinds of jobs just to keep their family estates and their way of life.

  “I really appreciate the fact that you are going to keep my work here a secret,” the young Viscount said.

  “Thankfully, there is a lot of work to do in the back office where no one is going to see
you, my Lord,” the bank manager, who was also a good friend of his father, said with a bow. “I know how hard it has been for you to deal with all the issues your uncle left behind, so I am glad that I can help you.”

  “In that case, Mr. Butler,” Francis returned the bow and offered his hand to the older man, “I will be back tomorrow morning to start my work.”

  “See you then,” Mr. Butler answered and had to turn away, as another of his employees was calling him to his desk.

  Francis remained in the middle of the bank for a few more seconds, taking deep breaths and forcing himself to believe that all this was for the best. Unconsciously, his hands ran over his dark brown jacket, and he adjusted his tie. He could see himself in the large windows, standing all alone amidst a crowd of people and looking lost. The young Viscount was handsome and well build, with strong, muscular body and chestnut hair that fell beautifully over his shoulders. There was a very deep look in his green eyes, which everyone who knew him recognized as the look of an honest and good hearted person.

  “Francis Turner!” someone called from the direction of the door, and the Viscount turned to see, who it was. “Viscount Francis Turner.”

  “Miss Emma Roberts,” he smiled with delight. “It has been a while since I saw you. Baron Roberts, nice to see you too.”

  “Viscount Turner, I am always glad to see you.” The Baron shook the young man’s hand while urging his daughter to walk deeper into the bank.

  “Miss Emma is one of my dearest friends, my Lord,” the Viscount answered. “I have been friends with her and her sisters since I can remember.”

  “You will not believe the good fortune that came upon me, Francis,” Emma could not wait to tell him. “My dear Aunt Rose just left me a small fortune.”

  “Congratulations, Miss Emma.” The young Viscount made an elegant bow. “You really deserve it.”

  He listened patiently to the entire story about her Godmother and tutor who had given her the chance to have a better future. He tried to be happy for her in the face of his own financial difficulties. After all, they both had received an unexpected inheritance, although his was more hardship than blessing. His uncle had been a stranger to him until the day of his death, so Francis had no idea that along with the title and the estate came a lot of debt.

  “Sorry for babbling so much about myself, Francis.” Emma seemed to realize suddenly that the gentleman was not really listening to her. “You must be very busy, too.”

  It had always been easy for her to talk to Francis Turner, even after he got his title and became one of the most important people in the area. The young man was a few years older than her, but he had always treated her with respect, regardless her young age.

  “No, it is always a pleasure to talk to you, Miss Emma.” The gentleman bowed and then smiled at her. Emma’s heart stopped for an instant at the sight of that smile. It was so pure, so real, so like Francis that she could not resist it.

  They had been good friends for as long as she could remember. Lately, Emma had noticed that her heart trembled every time the young Viscount was close by. She thought nothing of that strange feeling, but enjoyed greatly spending time with Francis, who she now realized had a lot of problems of his own.

  Eventually, Emma stopped for breath and wondered what Francis what was doing in the bank. Most gentlemen of his status preferred to deal with financial matters through their solicitors or other employees, but it seemed that Viscount Francis Turner liked to do his work alone.

  “Did you come here for some bank work?” she asked before she could think better about it. “I am sorry. I did not intend to intrude into your personal matters.”

  Francis’ expression changed from happy and relaxed into one of worry. “Actually, I am here for much sadder reasons, Emma,” he said, sounding sheepish. “My financial situation is not so good as yours, and I am here searching for a solution.”

  “I am sorry to hear that,” Baron Roberts said, very well aware of what the Viscount was going through. “Let us know if there is anything we can do for you.”

  “Thank you, my Lord. I know that I can always count on you,” the young man said politely. “So far, I am handling the situation. I am ready to do whatever is necessary for my father and my family estate to be safe.”

  “You are a fine young gentleman, Viscount Turner, and I am sure that you will make your father proud,” the older man said confidently.

  Francis thanked the Baron, but his eyes were fixed on the young lady standing by his side. Emma Roberts was looking at him with big, brown eyes, filled with tears, and Francis thought that she was going to start crying at any moment.

  “Is the situation very difficult for you?” Emma asked, her heart crying for him.

  “Yes, but you don’t have to worry about it.” Francis tried to sound strong. “I am confident that I will be able to overcome it.”

  “Lord Roberts,” the bank manager suddenly appeared in front of them. “I am so glad to see you again. How can I be of service?”

  “Mr. Butler,” the Baron turned towards him. “We would like to talk to you, yes.”

  “Please, come this way, my Lord,” the manager bowed and pointed towards his office.

  “We have to leave you now, Lord Turner,” the Baron spoke one last time to the young gentleman. “Please, extend my greetings to your father and come to visit us as soon as possible.”

  “Thank you, my Lord,” the Viscount answered and made a small bow towards Emma. “See you soon, Miss Emma.”

  Viscount Francis Turner did not have a second chance to say more or offer her sincere condolences. She followed her father to the bank manager’s office. They were both treated with great respect from the bank clerks, who probably already knew about the large sum of money that was going to be transferred to her account. Emma smiled at the nice clerk, but she could not help sneaking another glance back at the handsome, young gentleman who looked so fragile and lonely.

  Emma ignored her father’s call to hurry and smiled through the distance at Francis, who was also looking at her. His eyes were sad, but the smile he offered her was genuine, filled with memories of their childhood. Emma continued to smile at him when a clerk approached him and called him to the side. They talked for a moment and then disappeared behind a different door, leaving Emma bemused. She wondered what was Francis going to do at the bank, and was about to ask for an explanation when her father called her a second time, and she had to go to him.

  At the other side of the bank building, Francis was receiving instructions about his job, trying to keep a calm expression, although his whole being was crying in protest. Working at a bank as an assistant was not the worst option for him, so after he begrudgingly accepted it, Francis decided to give it his best effort.

  Half an hour later, when Baron Roberts and his daughter came out of the manager’s office, Francis was also coming out of the bank, after having finished his work for the morning. The documents he had been asked to work with had been easy to deal with, and he had finished his work so fast that even his supervisor had been surprised.

  The three of them met once again in front of the bank building, but now Francis was feeling inferior to them. After all, he was a simple bank clerk now and as such he had no right to address Miss Emma Roberts as equal.

  “Goodbye, my Lord,” he said to the Baron, before turning toward his daughter. “Goodbye, Emma.”

  In a single moment, everything seemed to have changed between them – they were no longer equal in his eyes. Francis noticed the look of surprise in Emma’s eyes, but chose to ignore it and continued his way without sparing her another glance.

  He was acting irrationally. Francis was aware of that, but because of the change in his situation, he could not bring himself to act differently. He was no longer the typical nobleman who lived off the money his family had possessed for years, and whose hands had never done any kind of work. As a working man, Francis already looked at himself in a different way.

  It hurt
his pride to be poor, but it hurt his heart to be in Emma’s presence and be unable to look her in the eyes.

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  “I tried to meet someone, but the only woman that caught my attention wasn’t interested.”

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  CHAPTER NINE

  UNCERTAIN FUTURES

  “I must learn to be content with being happier than I deserve.”

  Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

  Moreland house

  Two weeks after the ball at the Bunting Manor, Baron Roberts’ health had begun to deteriorate visibly. Charlotte watched her father breathe slowly and find it difficult to do even the smallest movements. Everybody was trying to help him and Charlotte did everything in her power to stay by his side and prevent him from doing something that might harm him even further.

  “Charlotte, dear,” Baron Roberts said in his exhausted voice. “I am so concerned about you and your sisters. Even your mother will be left with nothing after my death.”

  “Don’t worry about that, Father.” Charlotte quickly moved closer to him and fell on her knees near his chair. “Everything is going to be fine. We are going to be fine.”

  “No, you are not going to be fine without me, Charlotte,” he protested weakly. “Please, dear, help me to write a letter to Timothy.”

  “Father, the doctor is going to come tomorrow,” Charlotte tried to make him feel stronger. “He might have some new treatment for you.”

 

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