Lord George Geoffrays woke up early in the morning confused and still under the influence of his conversation with Lady Roberts. He had finally admitted to himself that Charlotte was the only woman he was interested in and he wanted to get to know her better. She seemed to be interested in him too, although neither of them had mentioned it.
During breakfast, his father reminded him that the doctor was going to come for a visit that very morning, and George said that he was going to be there, as he wanted to talk to the doctor too. Doctor Smith arrived as planned and after examining his father, the doctor joined George in his study.
“You wanted to talk to me, Lord Geoffrays?” Doctor Smith asked.
“Yes, Doctor, please come in,” George stood up from behind his desk, and they sat together on the sofa near the window. “I wanted to ask you personally about how my father is doing.”
“I have to tell you that there is still hope for your father, the Duke, while some of my other patients, like Baron Roberts, for example, have much lower chances than him,” the doctor explained.
“You are also treating Baron Roberts? I wasn’t aware of that,” George asked, remembering everything that Charlotte had told him about her father’s condition. “I am sorry to hear about Baron Roberts.”
“Yes, it is a bad situation, indeed,” the doctor agreed, looking rather uncomfortable. “Let me tell you more about your father’s case.”
George noticed the sudden change in conversation, but let it slide. The doctor had an obligation towards his patients, and he probably was uncomfortable talking about his other patients with the son of one of them. The doctor told them everything there was to be said about his father’s current situation and then left the Graystone Manor to visit a few of his other patients.
As soon as the doctor left the house, George returned to his desk and took out a clean sheet of paper. He wrote a short letter to Baron Roberts, inviting his whole family for dinner at Graystone Manor, stating that he wanted them to share together the difficult time they were all facing right now.
An answer to his letter arrived in the early afternoon, and George was happy to read that they accepted his invitation and that all three sisters and their cousin Timothy Roberts were going to join him for dinner. Baron and Baroness Roberts excused themselves with Baron Roberts being too ill to travel anywhere, but George had expected that. He made sure that everything was ready for the dinner and waited with little patience for his guests to arrive.
He was waiting for his guests in the large living room on the first floor, when he heard steps and turned around, “Mrs. Richards, I have been waiting for you for the last half an hour…” he said, before noticing who was standing at the door. “Charlotte…”
Although the house was full of people, inside the living room everything was silent. The air was thick with anticipation and warning. Not even the curtains were moving. The beautiful piano was quiet, and the room was illuminated only by the fireplace, where the fire was trying desperately to keep the shadows out of the room.
The room seemed enchanted and strange to Charlotte. Why am I so surprised, Charlotte wondered. After all, George Geoffrays had always affected her that way. Her sisters, Timothy, and she had just arrived and Mrs. Richards, the housekeeper, was showing them the Manor.
“Oh, good, you found Lord Geoffrays,” Mrs. Richards called from behind her. “Lady Charlotte, sorry for not being here to welcome you, but I had to deal with a kitchen crisis. And Lord George, didn’t I tell you that I will manage everything in time? It is so great to have you here, Lady Charlotte.”
The soft noises made by their dresses when they moved towards each other and the soft crackle of the fire were the only noises in the big room. Charlotte threw a side look at George while entering the room. The gentleman was still standing by the window, looking as if he’d been struck by lightning. Charlotte could understand his feelings as she was feeling pretty much the same. Coming to the house had been hard enough without having to deal with George so soon after getting engaged to Timothy.
Charlotte looked at him once again, noticing that there was sweat on his forehead, and his hands were slightly trembling. She wondered if he was afraid of his father... or was it all about her? Was he feeling the same tremor inside that she felt every time she saw him? And then she noticed that he was even more handsome than the last time she saw him, his tall body filled with muscles and his beautiful features looking mature and grown up.
“Lady Charlotte, it is so nice of you to accept my invitation,” George finally spoke again. “Sorry for acting so surprised, but I was lost in my thoughts.”
“It’s nice to see you too, Lord George,” Charlotte said, standing beside his housekeeper, accepting his hand and fighting back tears. “It was a surprise to me, too. I thought that the room was empty.”
His hand felt cold when it touched hers, and Charlotte compared it to the cold rain that was falling when she first learned that her father was so dangerously ill. She didn’t let her hand linger in his, both for her own and Mrs. Richards’ benefit. She didn’t need another reminder of how much she had lost when she accepted Cousin Timothy’s proposal.
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His suspicions were confirmed, and he immediately saw the Captain for what he was – a gold digger.
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
RIDING OUT
“Everybody likes to go their own way--to choose their own time and manner of devotion.”
Jane Austen, Mansfield Park
That same day, when the sun was already up in the sky, Viscount Francis Turner turned his horse around and headed home. The long walk to the lake had helped to restore his confidence that he would be able to find a way out of this difficult situation, and he was feeling much better now.
Soon, the lake was behind him, and the young man was riding through the forest when he saw the figures of two people walking on the same path he was following. At first, Francis was unable to recognize them, but soon he saw his childhood friend, Emma Roberts walking with a young gentleman, dressed in the red coat of the British army. To say that he was surprised would be an understatement. Francis urged Dusty to hurry up.
The couple did not notice him at first, and he had the chance to look at both of them undisturbed. They were obviously out on a romantic stroll, a fact that surprised him even more. Francis could not recall ever seeing the officer around, and he could not imagine it possible that the Baron and the Baroness would leave their youngest daughter to walk in the woods alone with a stranger.
The gentleman, on the other hand, seemed to be completely at ease with the situation, walking proudly beside the gentle and naïve Emma Roberts. Still unsure what to do next, Francis resolved to ride at a safe distance from them, making sure that nothing bad happened to the lady while she was in the company of the dark and handsome gentleman.
Dusty had no problem with walking slowly and stopping from time to time, so they were almost out of the woods by the time Emma turned around and by pure chance noticed Francis.
“Oh, what a wonderful surprise,” she exclaimed after spotting him and waving her small hand at him. “What are you doing out here, Francis? Did you lose your way?”
“That is impossible, Miss Emma,” Francis decided to act formal. “I know these woods like the back of my hand.” He was talking to the lady, but his eyes continued to speak to the gentleman, who was watching him with naked hatred.
“Oh, how stupid of me,” Emma suddenly exclaimed. “Francis allow me to introduce to you Captain Jonathan Green, who was only recently dispatched to our small town. Captain Green, this is Viscount Francis Turner, an excellent friend of mine.”
Both men made small bows with their heads, but neither of them actually spoke to the other. There was an immediate disliking between them, and Francis could not bring himself to talk politely to the man.
“Francis,” Emma continued tal
king, completely unaware of what was going on between the two gentlemen. “Do you remember what I told you about my inheritance? It seems that my dear aunt left me even more than what I was expecting, and now I am able to help my father and mother, too.”
Emma thought that it must be evident that the young officer treated her as if she belonged to him, as Captain Green didn’t seem to feel the need to hide his feelings. Emma tried to pretend that she hadn’t noticed anything, but she suspected that the Viscount had already seen her looking and had made his conclusions.
Francis listened to her words, but his eyes did not leave the face of Captain Green, who was listening, too. The Viscount immediately noticed how the eyes of the other man shone with happiness at the news of more money, a fact that disgusted Francis very much. His suspicions were confirmed, and he immediately saw the Captain for what he was – a gold digger.
Miss Emma, however, saw nothing of the exchange between the gentlemen and continued to tell him about everything that was going on in her life. It hurt Francis that she never thought of stopping and asking how he was doing, but he said nothing. Emma Roberts had apparently changed and now she was more concerned with money and this handsome stranger than with her old friends.
“I am sorry, Miss Emma,” Francis interrupted her politely. “I am needed by my father, so I have to go.”
“Oh!” was all Emma could say before Francis disappeared down the road. It was not polite of him, but the young Viscount could not bear to stay even a moment longer in their presence. He was sorry for acting like that towards Emma, but her behavior helped him to make the decision and leave.
Back home, Francis took care of the horse and hurried to his room to wash and change his clothes. Thankfully, he was not supposed to go to the bank until later in the afternoon, so he had time to look around the house and make sure his father was comfortable. The two old servants had lightened the fires, and there was breakfast served for him in the dining room. His father, however, was nowhere to be seen. Francis went to look for him in his bedroom.
The door of the room was slightly open, and the young man was able to see his old father sitting on the bed with a picture in his hands. Even from the door, Francis recognized the frame of the picture as that of his mother and noticed the tears running down his father’s face.
Without a second thought, Francis let go of his anger and resentment and went in, ready to comfort his father. His father lifted his head when he heard his son’s footsteps and quickly wiped away the tears.
“Francis, you are back,” he said in his rough voice and put the picture back on the nightstand.
“Yes, Father,” Francis answered. He sat beside his father on the bed. “I want you to stop worrying about money, Father, because I am going to do everything in my power to get us out of this situation. I am already working hard, and I have a few ideas about some investments. I will take all the responsibility. You don’t have to worry about anything.”
“You are a good son, Francis Turner, and your mother would have been proud of you,” the old man whispered. “Still, I cannot stop worrying about you. I am your father, and that is my primary occupation. You do what you have to do and leave me to help in whatever way I can.”
Francis nodded and sighed quietly, his heart full of regret for not being able to make his father’s final years peaceful and happy. There was a strong bond of affection between him and the older man and it had only grown after the death of Francis’ mother.
Later in the evening, Francis headed for the bank almost an hour early, wanting to speak to the bank manager about the investments he had in mind. The weather had changed, and now the sky was full of clouds. It was going to rain. His carriage was enough to protect him from the cold wind, but nothing in the world could protect him from his sad thoughts.
After his encounter with Emma and the sad image of his father crying over his mother’s picture, Francis was barely able to hide how upset he was feeling. He put all his strength into it, and tried to be as upbeat and positive as someone in his situation could possibly be.
On his way to the bank, people kept greeting him and stopping him to ask about his father’s health and about his absence from the last ball. Francis answered all questions politely, assuring them that his father was feeling fine and finding an excuse for his absence at the ball. The situation was not perfect, but it was the best he could master at the moment.
The Viscount left the small carriage at the town stables, where they were going to take care of the horse until he finished his business. The rain started when he stepped out of the stables, and Francis was grateful for his thick coat. He started walking faster, trying to keep near the houses and shops, which offered small protection from the rain. Francis was just about to cross the street when a tall figure appeared near him. It was a gentleman dressed all in black. The man asked to speak to him.
“Viscount Turner, can you spare a few minutes of your time?” The question was polite, but the way it was asked spoke of resentment and anger.
“I am sorry, but do I know you?” Francis asked and turned around to get a better look of the gentleman. “Captain Green!”
The officer had changed out of his red uniform, but Francis immediately recognized his hard, dark eyes, which had stared at him with hatred that very morning.
“How can I help you?” Francis asked, too taken aback to think of anything cleverer.
“I came to say just one thing to you, Mr. Turner.” The Captain omitted his title on purpose and stepped under the veranda of the nearest house. Francis followed him quietly, not willing to make a scene in the middle of the town, although, at the moment there was no one to hear or see them. “I wanted to warn you to stay away from Miss Emma Roberts.”
“What?” Francis asked, stunned by his direct approach and by the demands the Captain was making.
“I said that Miss Emma Roberts deserves better than someone like you.” The Captain was becoming more aggressive with each word he spoke.
“I don’t see what my personal relationship has to do with you,” Viscount Turner said calmly, his own anger well hidden under his peaceful expression. “I have known Emma Roberts since we were both children and the truth is that I know nothing about you. Therefore, I have nothing else to say to you.”
“Listen, Turner.” Now the officer was not only talking threateningly but also acting aggressively. “I am only going to warn you once. Stay away from Miss Emma Roberts.”
Francis just shook his head at the Captain’s last words and turned around, continuing on his way towards the bank, and no longer caring about the rain. The encounter with Captain Green confused him. All evening the bank, Francis could not stop thinking about him and Emma walking alone in the woods. He continued to think about the encounter with confusion until he realized that Emma must have displayed feeling for him in order to invoke such strong jealousy in Jonathan Green.
Could it be that Emma had some romantic feelings towards him? But she had never displayed any, at least not that Francis was sure about. All his anger disappeared when the thought that Emma might be interested in him entered his mind. The truth was that he had always liked the youngest of the Roberts’ girls a bit too much. His father, however, did not encourage his feelings, at first because the lady was too young and then, after Francis inherited the title and the estate from his uncle, because Emma was too poor.
Francis had never made his feelings known to the lady in question, preferring to keep a certain distance. In his inexperience, the young gentleman wanted to believe that if there were real feelings between the two of them, one day, when the time was right, they would find each other.
Emma, on the other hand, had always been a good friend, but she had never shown any feeling that Francis could recognize. This was the first time Emma had given him any sign that she shared his feelings, and for the moment that was enough for him. The Captain's words did not have the desired effect, and Francis was not scared by his threats. On the contrary, their encounter on
ly gave him hope that there was something good waiting for him in the future.
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“I am angry because I don’t appreciate you conversing so freely with other men.”
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CHAPTER NINETEEN
JEALOUSY
“I have not the pleasure of understanding you.”
Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
Graystone Manor
It hurt her to see George act so distant, and although she managed to hide her feelings and act as was expected from a lady, Charlotte could feel that she was falling for him more and more. It was hard to say when everything was happening so fast, and it got more difficult for her to control her heart.
Charlotte wasn’t going to lie to herself. She was in love with George Geoffrays, and from the way her heart was hurting in his presence, she supposed that she would always be in love with him. Her friends used to say that first love rarely lasted for long, but for Charlotte, it was going to last forever.
Casting her eyes down, Charlotte pretended to listen to her sisters and thought about what she should do when she saw him again. Talking about the past was going to be painful, and hoping for the future was unreasonable, so she decided to act as if there had never been a connection between the two of them.
During supper, George introduced her to Lady Margaret Gray, the only daughter of Lord Gray, a very wealthy landowner. More guests had been expected at the table, but because of the sudden rain that surprised them all, most of them excused themselves. Lady Margaret, however, had been determined to be present. Charlotte couldn’t help admiring the beautifully dressed lady, whose hair was shining like an aureole around her head.
Regency Romance: To Love A Viscount (CLEAN Historical Romance) Page 9
