A Viscount to Remember: Brides of London

by Alec, Joyce

  “Why did you not tell me this before, Miss Martin?” she enquired, reminding herself that she still had to verify all that Miss Martin had said, for it was still merely hearsay. Mayhap Miss McBride had believed there was something more to her acquaintance with Lord Williamson than there had truly been.

  “It was not my place to say.” Miss Martin drew herself up, her eyes now fixed upon Louisa’s, her gaze firm and steady. “I did not wish to bring any shame onto Miss McBride.”

  Louisa shook her head, her forehead wrinkling as she tried to make sense of this. “But Miss McBride is now wed and contented,” she replied, confused. “It makes no difference to her whether or not you speak to me of her difficulties.”

  Miss Martin swallowed hard and gave a minute shake of her head. “I am loyal,” she replied, lifting her chin a notch. “I keep secrets. I hide what I have seen and what I know. Understand this, Miss Smallwood. I would share nothing about my former charges unless it was absolutely necessary, not even if they have been married for a decade and produced a good few children within that time.”

  “And it is very good that you have such discretion,” Louisa considered slowly, “But if it would aid my—”

  “There are things I cannot share, Miss Smallwood!” Miss Martin interrupted, her face slowly turning crimson. “Things that I would not share with another living soul.” Gathering herself, she set her shoulders and clasped her hands in front of her, the implication of what she was trying not to say beginning to dawn on Louisa. “Now, shall I accompany you to Lord Montague?”

  Louisa’s heart began to pick up speed as she looked into the cold, hard eyes of Miss Martin. She had appeared open and almost vulnerable for a moment but then, after what had only been a few minutes, that had faded and the sternness returned. Louisa knew full well what Miss Martin had been trying to suggest about Lord Williamson, and, fearing that there was more to his acquaintance with Miss McBride than Miss Martin was willing to say, she wondered whether, if such a thing were true, Lord Williamson was really the gentleman she thought him to be.

  “Yes, yes, of course,” she stammered, trying to push such thoughts from her mind so that she could consider them at a later time. She saw the glint of steel in Miss Martin’s eyes and felt her own resolve steady. She would speak to Lord Williamson about what Miss Martin had said, would try and discover the truth without immediately believing what had been suggested. That, Louisa determined, was the only way forward.

  “I can see he is waiting for you,” Miss Martin murmured as Louisa moved towards where Lord Montague stood, his eyes fixed upon hers. “I would ask you to at the very least consider what I have said about him, however.”

  “I will,” Louisa answered with a steadiness that she did not truly feel. “And if I find there to be any truth in your concerns then I shall, of course, act appropriately.” She let out a long breath, forced a smile to her face, and greeted Lord Montague, who looked inordinately pleased that she had come to speak to him. As he bowed, Louisa caught sight of Lord Williamson looking over towards them, a smile fading from his face as he watched Lord Montague lift his head. Louisa held Lord Williamson’s gaze for a moment or two, telling herself that she had nothing, as yet, to worry about. She would speak to Lord Williamson directly and discover the truth about Miss McBride from his lips. If it was as Miss Martin said, then of course, there could be no furthering of their acquaintance and everything that Louisa had hoped for would fade in an instant.

  “And are you enjoying this evening, Miss Smallwood?”

  Dragged back to the present, Louisa quickly pasted a smile on her face and turned her attention back to Lord Montague. “Yes, indeed,” she lied, hiding her troubled heart from everyone, including herself. “And you?”

  “It has improved all the more now that I have your company,” he replied with a broad smile. “And I must insist that I sit by you when the performances begin. I am quite certain that you will be the most entertaining of company.”

  Louisa, who did not want to do any such thing, merely smiled and inclined her head, beginning to wish that she had never attended this evening. It had all been going so wonderfully and then, within a moment, her hope had begun to shatter, although it had not yet broken completely. She just had to hope that Lord Williamson would be truthful with her and that, when it came to it, he was not the cad that Miss Martin wanted her so desperately to believe him to be.

  9

  Something was wrong.

  “You appear to be a little lacking in spirit this afternoon, Miss Smallwood.” Daniel did not hold back from speaking honestly to the lady, finding that her ready smile and her sparkling eyes were entirely absent this afternoon. “Is there something the matter?” His eyes narrowed as he saw her glance behind her, to where her companion walked a few steps away from them. Miss Martin had something to do with her present difficulties, then, whatever they were

  “I—I have something I must ask you, Lord Williamson,” Miss Smallwood began, looking up at him with what appeared to be a hint of fear in her eyes. “Something that has been brought to my attention.”

  He nodded. “Yes, of course.”

  “It is to do with Miss McBride.”

  The name did not immediately capture his attention nor remind him of anyone in particular.

  “You do not know her?”

  He shrugged. “If she is part of the beau monde, then there is every chance that I have become acquainted with her, yes, but I do not recall her name or her face, Miss Smallwood.” A little nervous that this was the wrong answer to give her, he saw Miss Smallwood’s face furrow. “I apologize if she is someone that means a good deal to you.”

  Miss Smallwood shook her head, looking up at him again. Biting her lip, she hesitated and made to say something, only for the words to die on her lips. A slight breeze brushed between them as they continued their walk through St. James’ Park, sending a small chill down Daniel’s spine. What was it Miss Smallwood meant by such a question? He did not know anyone by that name and certainly could not recall their face.

  “You are quite certain?”

  “I am certain that I do not know anyone by the name of Miss McBride,” he said, a little irritated that he had to repeat himself. “Why do you ask, Miss Smallwood?”

  Again came that hesitation and the biting of her lip. Her cheeks colored as she dared another glance up at him, making him wonder just what it was that lay so heavily on her mind.

  “It is because I have heard that you were very well acquainted with her, Lord Williamson,” she told him eventually, each word cautious and careful. “I have heard it said that you sought to court her and that thereafter, you turned from her and broke her heart entirely.”

  Daniel’s steps slowed as he looked down at Miss Smallwood, seeing the color in her cheeks and the shame in her eyes at having spoken so boldly and having asked so intimate a question. He could not speak for a moment, feeling as though someone had laid out a trap for him to fall into.

  “I do not know anyone named Miss McBride,” he promised firmly. “I have danced and been acquainted with a good many young ladies over the Season and, indeed, the Season before it, but I have never once sought to court any of them. You might ask any of my friends, should you wish to verify it, but I am not the sort of gentleman who considers matrimony or the future and, therefore, I have had no eagerness to seek out courtship with any particular lady. You are mistaken, Miss Smallwood. I have never once sought to court Miss McBride, nor any other lady of my acquaintance. It is not a desire I have.”

  Miss Smallwood stopped dead, her feet seemingly stuck to the path. Her bright blue eyes looked up at him, the color draining from her cheeks. For a moment or two, Daniel could not think what was wrong with the girl. Looking down at her in some confusion, he was about to ask what the matter was when he realized what he had said.

  Heat climbed up his spine, blossoming color into his neck.

  “That is, of course, until I—”

  “If you have no desire to
truly court me, Lord Williamson, then that is something you must share with me now,” Miss Smallwood began, her voice a good deal firmer and louder than he had expected. “I would not have you hide it from me. Please. I would like to know the truth.”

  Daniel shook his head, his mouth feeling dry and his throat painful. “No, indeed not, Miss Smallwood,” he tried to say, wishing he could come up with an easy explanation. “It is only that—what I mean to say is that my heart and my mind have never once considered matrimony before. It has been something that I have tried to avoid, in fact.” Seeing her frown, Daniel groaned inwardly, realizing that he was making matters worse instead of better. “When I met you, however, Miss Smallwood, things changed entirely. I have begun to consider things that I have never contemplated before.”

  “I see,” Miss Smallwood replied, nodding slowly as though she were trying to convince herself that he was speaking the truth. “And you are quite certain that you do not know a Miss McBride?”

  “No!” His exclamation rang around the park, making Miss Smallwood’s eyes flare wide with surprise and shock and sending embarrassment crashing into Daniel’s heart. “No,” he said again, lowering his voice and dropping his head. “No, Miss Smallwood, I do not know a Miss McBride. I have not courted her, if that is what you fear. I have never courted a young lady before and yet that is the intention I have towards you.” He lifted his head and looked directly into Miss Smallwood’s eyes, seeing the shock still lingering there. “Forgive me for losing my temper, Miss Smallwood. It is only that I find that so many things are being said of me by one or two individuals that I find it both irritating and immensely frustrating. I want to be well thought of by you. You told me that you do not give credence to rumors and that is why—”

  “It is because I do not give them any weight that I come to you now, asking to know the truth,” she replied, her eyes lifting to his and holding them with a fierceness that surprised him. “Can you not see that, Lord Williamson? I seek to know the truth so that I might discard all rumors that swirl around me.” She shook her head, her brows binding themselves together as she frowned. “I cannot understand why Miss Martin thinks so ill of you,” she added, tilting her head just a little as she looked at him. “Why does she speak so poorly of you? Could there be any possibility that she is simply making up this story of Miss McBride so as to influence me further?”

  Daniel let out a long breath, the urge to tell Miss Smallwood the truth about Miss Martin burning in his mind. He had made a promise, however—a promise that he was bound to keep. He could not tell Miss Smallwood the truth about Miss Martin unless Miss Martin chose to do so first. He was not the sort of gentleman who spoke untruths, but neither was he the kind who made promises only to shatter them when things suited him.

  “Miss Martin is mistaken,” he told Miss Smallwood, praying that this would be enough to satisfy her. “I am not the gentleman who broke Miss McBride’s heart, if that is what she fears. I do not even know the lady! I cannot recall her face or even her name. Please, Miss Smallwood, do not allow this untruth to remain in your heart.”

  She managed a small smile and made to say more, only for their conversation to be suddenly interrupted by the arrival of two gentlemen, who were walking together through the park. Miss Smallwood made to step out of their way, but one of the gentlemen looked up and, catching sight of Daniel, stopped in his tracks.

  “Ah, Lord Williamson,” the gentleman began, gesturing towards Daniel as though the second gentleman had not seen him. “Good afternoon.”

  “Good afternoon,” Daniel stammered, trying to recall where he had seen this gentleman before and wondering if they were, in fact, acquainted, given that he had no knowledge of whom he might be. “Lord…?”

  “Look, tis Lord Williamson!” the first gentleman continued, elbowing the second, who looked at Daniel and then nodded sagely, as though to confirm that his friend was correct. “We have just been reading about your bet, Lord Williamson.”

  A stone launched itself directly into Daniel’s stomach. “My bet?” he repeated, not at all understanding what they meant but fearing that this conversation ought not to be had in front of Miss Smallwood. “I have no idea what you mean.”

  The second gentleman laughed loudly, but it was not a kind sound. Rather, it was harsh and grating, burning into Daniel’s mind and making him wince.

  “You need not pretend, Lord Williamson,” the second gentleman said with another long laugh. “We are hoping and praying that you win, so that you might use your winnings to buy a good glass of brandy or two for those who have supported you.” He nudged the first gentleman. “As we are doing, of course.”

  “Of course,” the first man agreed hurriedly, as though to convince Daniel that he was not about to back away from whatever it was that Daniel had supposedly done. “I can see that you have already begun, however!” He turned to Miss Smallwood and bowed low. “Might I be so bold as to make your acquaintance?”

  Miss Smallwood looked at him, then back at Daniel, before turning her head away from him again. “I am Miss Smallwood,” she replied slowly, clearly very uncertain as to what was occurring. “I do not believe we are acquainted.”

  “Miss Smallwood, eh?” the second gentleman said, laughing again. “How very good to meet you. Lord Williamson, I shall remember the name of this particular young lady, have no doubt—although I may struggle to recall the names of the others that shall come hereafter!”

  Daniel frowned, his eyebrows dropping low. “I do not know what it is you speak of, good sir,” he answered through gritted teeth, seeing how Miss Smallwood glanced towards him again. “I have no intention of accepting attentions from any others, if that is what you are inferring.”

  The first gentleman stared at Daniel for a few moments, appearing quite horrified. “But the bet!” he exclaimed, as though Miss Smallwood was not present. “You must do all you can to win, Lord Williamson, for many of us have added our coffers to your own, in the hope that you will be victorious.”

  Daniel made to clear his throat and then to ask the gentlemen what it was they were speaking of, only for Miss Smallwood to take a small step back from them all, her face growing a little pale as she looked at them.

  “I would wish to know what it is you speak of, gentlemen,” she said, her voice calm and clear. “I do not want to be made a mockery of, as I am certain you can understand.”

  The second gentleman began to stammer, now appearing to be a little ashamed, as though he had only just realized that he was about to open the floodgates on what should be a private conversation between gentlemen. “I—I do not think…” He cleared his throat and shook his head. “Forgive me, Miss Smallwood. I spoke much too hastily and far too openly. The matters at White’s should remain entirely as such—and ought not to be discussed in public. Again, I beg your forgiveness.”

  Daniel let out a slow breath, wondering if this would satisfy Miss Smallwood, only to see the way she narrowed her eyes and settled her hands on her hips. Throwing a glance towards Miss Martin, who was standing a few feet away, he was riled to see a small smile tug at the corner of her mouth, as a look came into her eyes that he immediately disliked. What was going on? Was there more to this than he knew?

  “I think, sir—and you will forgive me for, as yet, I do not know your name or your title—you had best speak openly for I am not inclined towards feigning ignorance about a matter that, in some way, seems to involve me.” Miss Smallwood arched one eyebrow and looked towards Daniel, who could only give her a helpless shrug. “Therefore, might I suggest that you finish what you were saying and explain to both myself and Lord Williamson—for he does not seem to understand what you mean—exactly what it is you have discovered about this bet.”

  There was a long, pronounced silence where the two gentlemen looked at each other with clear yet silent questions going between them and Daniel himself began to feel an increased anxiety that caused him to tense visibly. He had no knowledge of what either of these gentlemen were
speaking of, for neither of them were known to him and he certainly had not made any bets in the White’s betting book, but they appeared to believe that he had done.

  “If you wish it, Miss Smallwood,” said the first gentleman eventually, giving Daniel a small half shrug and an apologetic smile as though to say sorry for what was about to occur. “It is only that Lord Williamson had made a bet and has written it down in the betting book that is situated in White’s. That is all.”

  Miss Smallwood narrowed her eyes and the gentleman swallowed hard, clearly understanding that she was not about to accept such a response.

  “The bet is merely that Lord Williamson will take out a different lady each day, both in the afternoon and in the evening, for the duration of one sennight,” the second gentleman added hastily.

  A rush of horror ran down Daniel’s spine, rendering him entirely speechless.

  “It is meant to be evidence of the fact that Lord Williamson is just as eligible and as welcomed by the beau monde as ever,” said the second gentleman, continuing on quite blithely as though all ought to make sense now. “Another gentleman has stated that he believed Lord Williamson unable to complete such a task, declaring that there were other, more eligible and handsome gentlemen than he. It is simply to prove that such a statement is quite incorrect, that is all.”

  “That is entirely untrue,” Daniel replied, his voice hoarse and not filled with angry confidence, as he had intended. “How dare you suggest such a thing!”

  The two gentlemen glanced at each other, each looking confused.

  “But we have only just come from White’s,” the first gentleman answered, looking a little concerned now over Daniel’s reaction. “I have added my coffers, as I have said, in the hope that you will be successful and collect the winnings.”

  “I have done no such thing.”

  The second gentleman sighed heavily and rubbed at his forehead. “I can see that we made an error in coming to speak to you, Lord Williamson, when you are in company. I do hope that we have not unfairly disadvantaged you.” He bowed low, touching his hat. “Forgive me, Miss Smallwood. I am quite certain that you are a favorite of Lord Williamson’s, else he would not have chosen you for the first. I do apologize if I have caused any upset. I shall leave you now.” Lifting his head, he threw Daniel what appeared to be a scornful glance and then turned on his heel and began to march away, leaving his companion to stammer an apology and follow after him.