A Viscount to Remember: Brides of London

by Alec, Joyce

  Much to his surprise, Miss Smallwood laughed, her eyes brightening and her whole expression filling his heart with an unexpected delight.

  “I know very well that rumors are not to be trusted,” she told him, her eyes twinkling. “Lord Marchmont and Miss Grey are my very dear friends and I was with them during what was a very difficult period that was filled with swirling rumors and the like. So you are correct to state, Lord Williamson, that I should not give any weight to rumors without evidence to back them up. Have no fear.” She dimpled at him again. “I shall not do so.”

  The relief that filled Daniel’s chest surprised him. He had hoped that Miss Smallwood would not allow Miss Martin’s judgment of his character to hold her back from what might be a charming acquaintance, but to feel such an overwhelming sense of relief was quite unexpected and unexplained. The music, as though sensing that he was ready to bring this dance to an end, began to slow and within a few minutes, he had released Miss Smallwood and was bowing before her.

  “Good evening, Miss Smallwood,” he said, seeing how she smiled at him. “I look forward to seeing you again.”

  A faint pink appeared in her cheeks as she rose from her curtsy. “As do I, Lord Williamson,” she replied with evident honesty. “Thank you for your conversation and your company. I have enjoyed both.”

  As have I, Daniel found himself thinking, as he led Miss Smallwood back to the visibly angry Miss Martin. As have I.

  4

  “Miss Martin.”

  Louisa walked into the drawing room and came to a sudden stop, seeing Miss Martin standing just in front of the hearth, her arms crossed over her chest and her chin lifted. Her eyes were ablaze, her lips pulled taut and her cheeks quite pale.

  “Good morning, Miss Smallwood,” Miss Martin replied, her voice thin and lacking warmth. “You appear to be in fine spirits this morning.”

  Louisa held Miss Martin’s gaze, still questioning her companion’s strange demeanor. “I enjoyed myself last evening,” she answered, seeing how Miss Martin’s frown drew low, as though she ought not to have done such a thing. “Therefore, I am quite contented this morning.”

  Miss Martin drew in a sharp breath and turned her head. “You mean to suggest, then, that you will dance and converse with Lord Williamson again, should he ask you.”

  “Of course,” Louisa replied calmly, moving towards a seat and, only after tugging the bell pull, plumping down into it. “Lord Montague also stated that he would be glad to seek me out on our next social occasion and I accepted that compliment gladly as well. I can see no difficulty in accepting either such compliments, Miss Martin.”

  Miss Martin turned her head back towards Louisa with an almost pitying expression on her face. “I think, Miss Smallwood, that it would be wise for me to tell you everything that I know of Lord Williamson, else you may—”

  Louisa, recalling what Lord Williamson himself had said only last evening, and well remembering the sorrowful look on his face as he had spoken of rumors and the like—a look which he had quickly tried to hide—held up one hand, silencing Miss Martin at once.

  “I think that unless you can speak to me with facts and truths as regards Lord Williamson, then I am not at all inclined to listen,” she told her companion, seeing how Miss Martin’s eyes flared with evident anger. “I will not listen to rumors and gossip.”

  “He is a cad!” Miss Martin exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “It will do your reputation no good if you go near him.”

  Louisa blinked in surprise. “My reputation?” she repeated, arching one eyebrow in Miss Martin’s direction. “What is so very wrong with Lord Williamson that my very reputation will be tainted if I dance or converse with him, Miss Martin? What is it about him that makes him a cad? If you will tell me of it all, without hesitation or basing your convictions upon rumors, then I shall be glad to listen.” She shrugged. “Else, I would rather you keep such considerations to yourself, for I will not be glad to hear them.”

  Miss Martin drew herself up to her full height. “I have been employed by your father to guide you through society and to find you a suitable husband,” she stated coldly. “If you will not accept my advice, then I must go to your father.”

  Louisa’s heart quickened but she showed no outward signs of concern. “Please do,” she replied with a small shrug. “In fact, I—”

  Her sentence was cut off with the arrival of her father, who suddenly entered the room without so much as looking up from the letter he had in his hand. He did not even notice Louisa or Miss Martin, his brow furrowed low as he read the lines on the page.

  “Ah, Lord Churston.” Miss Martin’s voice was high and shrill. “How good it is that you have arrived at the very moment we require you.”

  Louisa got to her feet, her father’s eyes catching hers as he looked up, startled.

  “Oh, good morning, Louisa,” he stammered, not so much as looking at Miss Martin. “My apologies. I was reading something of great interest and I came in here to…” Looking about him, he scratched his head, clearly having forgotten why he had made his way into the drawing room. “I meant to go to the study, I think.”

  “It is good to see you, Father,” Louisa said quickly, before Miss Martin could say more. “Miss Martin and I were discussing the merits of one Lord Williamson, just as you came in.” She flashed Miss Martin a quick smile but saw that she was merely standing quietly, her arms folded and her eyes resting on Louisa with what appeared to be an expression of triumph. “Viscount Williamson, I believe.”

  Lord Churston cleared his throat and dropped his hand to his side. “Viscount Williamson, eh?” he repeated, looking at Louisa with interest. “He was with you last night, I believe.”

  “Yes,” Louisa said, smiling at her father. “We were introduced, in a manner of sorts, and Lord Williamson danced with me twice. He hopes to do so again, at the next ball.” She held her breath, waiting for her father’s reaction. “Does that please you?”

  Her father frowned, glancing at Miss Martin. “Lord Williamson danced with you twice?” he asked, looking back at Louisa. “That shows a flicker of interest, does it not?”

  “He was just being gentlemanly, I am sure,” Miss Martin interrupted, but Louisa took a step forward, drawing her father’s attention again. She did not want Miss Martin to unjustly prejudice her father’s opinion of Lord Williamson, especially when she did not know the truth about his character and wanted very much to decide for herself.

  “He did ask if we might dance again at our next social occasion,” she said quickly. “I wanted to ensure, Father, that you were aware of such a thing. It is to show you that I am making progress, as you had hoped.”

  Lord Churston nodded slowly, looking at his daughter and then at Miss Martin, who, thankfully, had decided to remain quiet as Lord Churston made his deliberation.

  “I know Lord Williamson has a decent fortune,” Lord Churston began, a small smile beginning to spread across his face. “Better than that of Sir Walton, at least!”

  “Yes,” Louisa murmured, not at all interested in how much someone had or did not have. “That is indeed true.”

  “And a better title, too,” Lord Churston finished, looking quite delighted at the prospect. “Then yes, of course, Louisa! You must accept any attentions he throws at you.”

  Miss Martin took a step forward, clearing her throat. “My lord, if I might, I do have some concerns about Lord Williamson.”

  “Oh?” Lord Churston swung back around to face Miss Martin, his brows rising. “And what might they be?”

  Miss Martin blinked, lifting her chin and holding herself almost taunt. “I have heard rumors that he can be something of a rogue, Lord Churston. You must know that—”

  “Pshaw!” Lord Churston exclaimed, throwing his hand in Miss Martin’s direction. “All gentlemen have something of the rogue about them! Just so long as his reputation is not one of utter disgrace, then I can see no reason not to allow my daughter to accept his attentions. After all, it is
not as though she has a good deal of time left with which to find someone now, is it?” He waggled a finger in Louisa’s direction, although a smile split his features. “There shall not be another Season for you, so you must make the most of what is given to you, Louisa. Yes, by all means, yes, accept Lord Williamson’s attentions—although if there is some deep, dark secret that he hides, then you have my agreement, Miss Martin, that Louisa should be taken from his side at once. But,” he finished, walking towards the door and bringing an end to the discussion, “I do not think that such a thing will occur. Do let me know if there are any further developments.” Throwing open the door, he turned around and looked over his shoulder at Miss Martin. “And my congratulations on being so successful thus far, Miss Martin.”

  Louisa looked back at Miss Martin as Lord Churston closed the door behind him, feeling a big sense of both triumph and relief settle over her. Her father had given his support for Lord Williamson’s attentions should they occur, and Miss Martin would not be allowed to prevent it either.

  “You are making a mistake, Miss Smallwood,” Miss Martin replied with a toss of her head that did not move her chignon even an inch. “Lord Williamson is not a gentleman worthy of your time.”

  “But why?” Louisa insisted, moving closer to Miss Martin and trying to see into the depths of the lady’s eyes. “If it is only rumor that makes you fearful of him, then I cannot believe that such a thing is all you base your concern of him on.” She arched one eyebrow towards Miss Martin, feeling as though the lady had a great depth to her that Louisa had not yet even had the chance to see. It had all been so sudden. Miss Martin had appeared in her house and in her life and all had seemed to go well for the first few days. And then, at the ball last evening, everything had changed, and for Louisa, there was no explanation.

  Miss Martin drew in a long breath, turned her head, and looked away from Louisa. “You will not listen to me, it seems. Therefore, Miss Smallwood, I do not think that you shall be successful with this Season. You shall not find a suitable gentleman for a husband.” She sat down on her chair, stiff-backed and still not looking at Louisa. “I shall not say that you will not get married, for that may yet happen, but you shall not be happy. You shall not find joy with such a gentleman as Lord Williamson. I will continue to warn you, shall continue to try and dissuade you for that is my duty as your companion, but I fear that your stubbornness and arrogance will bring it all to a sorrowful end.”

  Louisa blinked rapidly, looking at Miss Martin and seeing the slight flush of her cheeks. “You have not yet told me, Miss Martin, why you believe Lord Williamson to be so much of a cad,” she stated, trying to keep her mind on Lord Williamson and not the many questions about Miss Martin herself that flew about her head. “Is it rumor only?”

  Miss Martin closed her eyes, turned her head and opened them again, so as to look at Louisa. “I have had charges before, Miss Smallwood. Do you believe that I have not had the measure of some of the gentlemen here in London?”

  “How many charges have you had, Miss Martin?”

  Miss Martin blinked. “Two.”

  “And you have found them both suitable husbands?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you have ensured that they avoided Lord Williamson?”

  Miss Martin nodded. “Of course. They did as I instructed.” Her chin lifted, a slightly arrogant look in her eyes.

  Louisa took a breath. “You will discover, Miss Martin, that I am not as obliging as your other charges. I do not base my consideration of someone based on rumor or gossip.” She lifted her chin a notch herself, matching Miss Martin. “Should you have been my companion last Season, or even earlier this Season, then I might have done as you asked, might have agreed without question, but thankfully I have discovered a new sense of determination and courage within myself of late.” She gave Miss Martin a half smile, which the lady did not return. “So therefore, I shall dance and converse with any gentleman I wish, unless I learn that their reputation is unequivocally stained.” With a sense of pride growing within herself at her newfound resolve, she let her smile spread all the more. “Do we understand each other, Miss Martin?”

  “Yes, Miss Smallwood,” Miss Martin replied, her voice quiet and yet filled with a sternness that told Louisa she was not about to give up yet. “I believe we do.”

  “Good,” Louisa replied with a small sniff, turning her head away from Miss Martin and feeling a sense of unease settle over her. She did not think that Miss Martin would end her attempt to convince Louisa that Lord Williamson was a cad and a rogue and wondered just how easily they would be able to progress if she continued to behave in such a manner. “Now, I am to go out walking this afternoon, Miss Martin. Do you intend to accompany me?”

  Miss Martin did not immediately answer and Louisa could almost feel the cold, hard stare that was turned in her direction, although she did not look directly back at her companion.

  “I am your companion,” Miss Martin replied eventually, her tone tight and her voice angry. “Therefore, of course I shall accompany you this afternoon. Might I ask where it is you intend to walk? And whom you intend to walk with?”

  I would walk with Lord Williamson should he ask me, Louisa thought to herself stubbornly, almost wishing that she could state such a thing unequivocally, simply to show Miss Martin that she was disregarding her obvious dislike for Lord Williamson. “I am to walk with Miss Buxton,” she replied, catching the flash of relief that washed over Miss Martin’s tight expression. “We thought to take a turn about Hyde Park, a little before the fashionable hour as it can become awfully busy around that time.”

  “I shall accompany you, of course,” Miss Martin answered, her eyes lowering to her lap. “And if you would but look at me for guidance if any gentlemen come to speak to you, then I would be grateful of that.”

  Louisa cleared her throat, making her companion look up sharply. “I shall manage to converse with any gentlemen that approach without your help, Miss Martin,” she told her, wondering why Miss Martin seemed so desperate to protect her from seemingly almost every gentleman of the ton. “Should any seek to court me, then that is when I shall seek your thoughts and advice, although as I have said before, I shall not allow any rumors or gossip to be spoken of.”

  Miss Martin shrugged and turned her head away. “Very good, Miss Smallwood,” she stated with a calmness that made Louisa all the more concerned. “I look forward to our walk this afternoon.” And so saying, she got up and excused herself, hurrying to the door and leaving Louisa sitting alone.

  Sighing to herself, Louisa passed one hand over her eyes, hating that there appeared to be enmity between herself and Miss Martin. This was not what she had wanted. When seeking a companion, she had longed for someone to understand her difficulties and her urgency in seeking a husband. She had wanted someone to laugh with, someone to stand with her and discuss the merits of one particular fellow or to sigh over another who was perfectly eligible yet entirely out of reach. In short, she had wanted a companion she could respect yet could also become friends with. In Miss Martin, she had found neither. It was most disappointing.

  And yet, Louisa had to admit that there were now a good many questions going on in her mind. What was it about Lord Williamson that Miss Martin hated so much? Was it merely that she believed the gossip and rumors that swirled throughout society? That was very strange indeed, for even Louisa knew that all such whispers often held only a modicum of truth.

  “Just who are you, Miss Martin?” she murmured, her gaze on the closed door where Miss Martin had only just walked through, half-expecting her companion to return, sit down and begin to explain matters. When no such thing happened, Louisa sighed, shook her head, and sat back in her chair, her head resting to one side as her eyes closed. Whatever the matter was, Louisa was not about to let Miss Martin sabotage what could be a pleasant acquaintance. It might come to nothing more than that, but at least she could enjoy Lord Williamson’s company and conversation and that, Louisa thou
ght to herself, a slow smile spreading across her face, would be quite lovely indeed.

  5

  Daniel sighed and ran one hand over his dark brown hair, looking at his reflection in the looking glass.

  “And I thought you had not an ounce of vanity in you.”

  The voice of Lord Townend made Daniel start, turning around to see his friend grinning at him.

  “Indeed, that is true, I hope,” he answered, chuckling. “But for whatever reason, I find myself hoping that my appearance is as good as it can be this evening.” He arched one eyebrow in Lord Townend’s direction. “And it has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that Lady Esther has accepted your invitation to this evening’s soiree.”

  Lord Townend laughed, shaking his head. “You are quite ridiculous, Williamson. Lady Esther is to be present, yes, but she will be accompanied by that dragon of a mother, Lady Vasquez, and I doubt you shall be allowed to go anywhere near her without approval!”

  Daniel sighed in mock dismay, although he could not pretend that he did not find the idea of meeting Lady Esther a little enticing. Lady Esther was one of the diamonds of the first water of this Season, and it helped enormously that she was the daughter of a marquess—Marquess Vasquez—and had an exceptional dowry to go with it. Marquess Vasquez would not be present, having been caught up with business, but Lady Esther would be accompanied by her mother, who would, of course, ensure that her daughter spoke to those she first approved of.

  Silently, Daniel thought that Lady Esther would not take even the slightest notice of him, given that he was nothing more than a viscount and certainly not at all highly titled enough to interest the lady. Although the fact that Lady Vasquez had accepted the invitation of Viscount Townend suggested, at least, that she was willing to move through this particular social circle.

  “Remind me of how you are acquainted with Lord Vasquez?” Daniel commented, as the last of Lord Townend’s staff took their places, ready for the guests to arrive. “Or is it that you know Lady Vasquez?”