The Appeal of an Elusive Viscount
Christmas Wishes
USA Today Bestselling Author Hildie McQueen
Contents
Copyright
Other Historical Works by Hildie McQueen
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Christmas Wishes
About the Author
The Appeal of an Elusive Viscount
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Pink Door Publishing
Editor: Scott Moreland
Copyright Hildie McQueen 2018
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
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This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader.
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If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to your retailer and purchase your own copy.
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Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Created with Vellum
Other Historical Works by Hildie McQueen
Where The Four Winds Collide
Westbound Awakening
The Duke’s Fiery Bride
Highland Archer
Highlander’s Legacy
Colter Valley
Judith, Bride of Wyoming
Montana Gentrys
The Wolf of Skye
Chapter One
London, England - November 1766
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The lecture by the visiting philosopher was fascinating. So much so that Clara Humphries didn’t mind the cramped space or the musty smell of the upstairs closet where she hid. There were murmurs of conversation as the men below discussed the lecture, signaling an intermission and she let out a sigh knowing it would be another fifteen minutes or so before the lecture began again.
The men rarely ventured upstairs to the side balcony, where the servants kept items, so she felt safe. With the cover of noise, it was possible to open the door a bit wider and stretch her legs out a bit. Hopefully, the creaky closet door would not be too loud.
Ever so slowly, she cracked the door open and took a deep breath of cleaner air. Granted, the men downstairs smoked cigars, so it wasn’t exactly as clean as she would have preferred. However, it was better than the smell of the castaway items in the closet.
It was not the first time Clara had snuck into Brooks’, the gentleman’s club for the who’s who of London society. However, it was the first time she’d been forced to hide in the closet since the lecture was so well attended.
Throats were cleared as the second portion of the lecture would commence and Clara decided it was the perfect time to emerge. If, for some reason, she were caught, she’d pretend to be lost or confused.
Men were easy to fool in her opinion. Most thought women to be simple creatures not to be taken seriously. The ploy had worked for her often. Wide eyes and a trembling bottom lip had gotten her out of trouble more times than she cared to count.
“You’d be more comfortable out here,” a deep voice on the other side of the door said.
Frozen, Clara scrambled to come up with a suitable response.
“Can you not speak? Deaf perhaps?”
She considered both. However, neither would make sense. Someone would recognize her and know she was not deaf and could definitely speak.
Clara opened the door just a hair wider and then peeked out to find the hallway to be empty to her right. Taking a half-step forward, she inched a bit further to look around the door to the opposite side.
A man she’d never seen before stood immobile, his broad shoulders blocking anything else from sight. He wore black from head to toe, reminding her of a dark prince from fairy tales she made up when she was bored.
Midnight black hair fell in waves to his shoulders. It was left loose and not pulled back into a queue as was the current style.
Narrowing her eyes, she assessed what ploy to use. He didn’t seem particularly put out at her being in the club. Neither did he seem pleased. If she were to be honest, she couldn’t figure out what he thought by his blank expression.
She’d wait for him to speak first. While waiting, she studied the man further.
He was handsome beyond words, with olive skin, long-lashed, gray eyes, and a closely trimmed mustache and beard. Again, not adhering to the current clean-shaven look London men preferred.
“Why were you in the closet?” He finally spoke, seeming more curious than angry.
Clara placed her index finger over her lips signaling for him to lower his voice. And then with a toss of her curls, she stood tall. “My uncle is here somewhere and I’m afraid for his health and need to keep an eye on him.” The whispered lie flowed easily.
He cocked his head to the side and then frowned. “From inside a closet?”
“I - I was afraid of being caught.” Willing tears, Clara pushed her bottom lip out.
The man looked toward the edge of the balcony. “Who is your uncle? I’d be happy to ensure he is well and return promptly with word.”
“No need.” Her words came out sharper than intended. “I just checked and he seems fine.”
This time, his gray eyes narrowed. “If you are certain, then you should leave. I can ensure your uncle is well.”
The philosopher began speaking about the precise subject she’d read about and was most interested in. She strained to listen, ignoring the meddlesome man for a moment.
How could she get rid of the black prince and hear the rest of the lecture? She let out a soft sigh and leaned forward so he could hear her words clearly. “Allow me to remain. I will slip away as soon as the lecture ends.”
“Ah, so it’s the lecture that interests you then?” Once again, he spoke without lowering his voice and Clara winced.
“Must you speak so loudly?” she hissed.
His gaze raked over her, from her head to her toes. It was as if he was assessing what to do. “Very well, remain. I will accompany you.” Taking Clara by the hand, he led her to two chairs.
“What are you doing, Sir?” She snatched her hand away as if burned. “I can’t remain out in the open. Being found out would be my ruin.”
The man’s lips twitched in amusement as he lifted and lowered a shoulder. “I’m sure it’s not as serious as that.”
This time, it was her that grabbed at his arm. She raced to the closet, hurried inside and tugged him in behind her.
Footsteps and voices neared. Two men conversed as they walked past.
What had been a cramped space was now miniscule. Their bodies were so close they touched and his breath fanned across Clara’s face.
“You almost got me caught,” Clara whispered, wishing she could stomp on one of his feet. However, if he cried out, she’d definitely be discovered. Then again, the stranger didn’t seem the type to “cry out”.
> Once again, it was quiet in the hallway. She strained to listen. Once she was sure it was safe, she looked up at her closet companion. “You can go now.”
“I am rather enjoying the present predicament,” the arrogant man replied, not making one single move to leave.
Clara wasn’t sure what to think. Did he actually plan to remain hidden in the closet with her until it was absolutely safe to leave? This was certainly a most peculiar situation. “It’s quite smelly in here. Offensive really.”
For a moment, he didn’t stir and then it was obvious he sniffed her. “Thankfully, your perfume helps. Although, I must say, the musty odor does remind me of my Uncle Theodore. He always smelled as if he was just let out of the attic.”
Unable to help it, Clara giggled. “We will be caught and you, Sir, will be responsible for my ruin. Please go.” She gave him a firm shove. Given the cramped space, there wasn’t room for him to move at all.
“Very well. I will take my leave. However, it will cost you.” At his deep voice next to her ear, a tingle traveled down the back of her neck. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation.
Quite the opposite unfortunately.
What would he request? Clara did a quick calculation of how much she carried in her purse. The man had to be wealthy by the make of his clothing. “I don’t have much money with me, but you are welcome to take it all.”
She maneuvered sideways and dipped down to retrieve her reticule. The throat clearing made her freeze just as her face was at the stranger’s crotch level. Someone walked outside. Clara held her breath her face blazing at the unfortunate position she found herself in.
“Ah, there you are, Albert,” the man out in the hallway said. And after another greeting, they walked off.
The dark prince took her by the shoulders and pulled Clara to standing upright. “I don’t want money. Just a kiss.”
“A...a kiss?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” That was silly. Why would he wish for a kiss from her? No matter. It would be best to kiss the man and send him on his way.
Clara stood on her tiptoes, cupped his jaw with both hands and pulled him down to kiss him. “Ah,” she gasped when his thick arms encircled her. This was most certainly a first. The couple of times she’d been kissed, the young men had kept their hands to themselves. Their arms had most certainly not been involved.
His mouth covered hers.
The weakening of her knees and a strange, peculiar tightening of her body followed a soft moan. Clara was forced to cling to the man. Although, by the way he held her, there wasn’t any chance of her collapsing, except against him.
“Goodbye,” he whispered.
Clara gulped in air when her lungs protested and opened her eyes to find the closet door cracked just enough to see it was clear. Dizzy and a bit disoriented, she wobbled side to side.
In an attempt to remain upright, she grabbed at the door which, of course, opened wider.
A servant appeared at the end of the hall and Clara knew she’d been sighted. The young man hurried to her, his gaze taking in her unflattering, drab dress. “What are you doing here? Are you looking for someone, Miss?”
“No...I mean yes. Not a person actually. I was told to come up and find a rag to clean up a mess.” Clara smiled innocently. “No rags in there.” She rushed away, leaving the befuddled servant looking into the closet.
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The Humphries estate was situated just a couple blocks from Brooks’. Normally, it would be a pleasant walk. However, today, she was without an escort. If she were discovered by her parents, she’d be severely reprimanded. Clara bent her head and scurried down the side of a building hoping to reach the back gate to the gardens of her home and slip inside.
“Clara.” Her father’s unmistakable voice boomed out. “Stop at once.”
From across the street, her father, Albert Humphries, glared at her. “What in the bloody...why are you out unescorted?” He rushed over to her, his arms pumping rather comically.
“Most troublesome as always.” Her cousin, Todd, walked up to stand beside her father to form a united front of disapproval.
Straightening her shoulders, Clara prepared to perform. As if blinking away tears, she sniffed loudly. “I was out with Mrs. Tattersworth, but became distracted. And when I turned around, she was gone.” She made a mental note to seek out the cook and ask her to corroborate her story.
“You’re wearing a maid’s outfit,” her father stated flatly. “Did you also become distracted when dressing?”
Crumpets, she’d forgotten about that.
Taking her arm none too gently, her father brought her to walk beside him. “We will deal with this situation at home. Your mother will be quite cross with you.”
The walk suddenly seemed much shorter. The prospect of facing her mother, after being caught out in servant’s clothing and unescorted, meant hours of lectures, lessons and being forced to remain indoors.
“Father. I promise not to do this again. Please, don’t tell Mother. I planned to attend the Lady’s Society lecture on a newly-discovered species of butterflies. It’s Friday afternoon.”
The lack of a response meant he would not be flexible. So she turned her attention to Todd. Her cousin was not only her father’s apprentice, but also almost an exact duplicate. Tall, handsome and a bit boring. She supposed actuaries had to lacking in personality to be so taken by numbers.
“Dear cousin, convince Father how important it is for young people like us to have certain freedoms.”
Todd shrugged. “You have more freedom than most. Why didn’t you get one of the servants, perhaps the one you borrowed clothes from, to accompany you?”
She had considered it. However, it would have been difficult to sneak in with a second person. Besides, Molly would hate hiding in the closet while she listened to a philosophy lecture.
They continued on, her father never once releasing her arm until they arrived at the front door. A uniformed butler, whose eyes rounded upon spotting her, greeted them. The butler, Gerard, had been with the family for decades. Although he normally coddled her, today, his disapproving gaze moved from her outfit to where her father held her arm.
“Good afternoon. Mrs. Humphries is in the tea parlor with Miss Vivian and Miss Penelope.”
“Thank you Gerard, we will join them,” her father replied, tugging her as Clara did her best to dig her heels into the floor. Unfortunately, she’d not considered exchanging her soft slippers for Molly’s more sturdy footwear. And so she glided across the polished floor as if on wheels.
“Come along, Clara. Best to get this over with.” Her father was too strong. So, seconds later, they entered the tea parlor to meet the astounded looks of her mother and sisters.
Penelope, the youngest, coughed to cover up a giggle. Vivian, the eldest, gaped, her eyes bulging.
“What is the meaning of this?” her mother gasped, jumping to her feet. “Explain at once.”
In times like these, it was best to allow someone else to speak first, so Clara looked to her father. He seemed just as terrified as she felt.
“I found Clara out near Hyde Park, unescorted and dressed in this...this...manner.”
The explanation only seemed to infuriate her mother further.
“You’ve upset Mother,” Clara informed him. “I was not unescorted. I was left behind accidentally.”
By this time, her mother was close enough to pinch her. “Why are you dressed in those rags?”
The comment was rude. “Mother, you shouldn’t be so judgmental. If Molly overheard you, she’d be hurt.”
Sarah Humphries took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Taking advantage of that opportunity, her father dropped her arm and, along with Todd, made a quick exit.
“You will go upstairs immediately. Take a bath, put on a nightgown and go to bed. I cannot remain calm and continue to speak to you right now.”
If that was to be it, her only punishment, Clara had to fight hard not to smile. “Yes
, Mother.” She dipped her head to seem meek and turned to leave.
“I am not finished.” Her mother’s words stopped her midstride. A contradiction. Her mother had just stated she was too angry to speak. “You will remain in your room until Friday evening. We have agreed to attend the dinner party at Lady Barrow’s home. Remain in your room until then. You will attend and be on your best behavior.”
At the sentence, she gasped and looked past her mother to her sisters. Surely one of them would plead for leniency. Both sat with rounded eyes and mouths open.
It was only Monday. Their mother rarely punished Clara for longer than two days.
“Mother, it is impossible to remain in my room for four long days. Whatever shall I do?”
Her mother closed the distance until their noses were but an inch apart. “Not be abducted. Not be ruined in the eyes of society and also casting your shadow of ruin over your sisters. This is Vivian’s year. I will not allow you to ruin it.”
“I thought you said all three of us would be seeking husbands,” Penelope interjected, her hand shooting up as if asking for permission to speak after the fact.
Her mother whirled and Penelope shrank back, her eyes rounded. “I mean...of course Vivian should receive all the attention. She is, after all, the eldest and soon will be considered a spinster.”
“Penelope!” Vivian cried out. “I have at least another season before that could happen. I am only twenty-one.”
Her mother placed two fingers on both temples. “Enough girls. We will adjourn to Clara’s room after tea and discuss the season.” She looked to Clara. “Go to your room now.”
“About Friday...” Clara started.
“I could change it to Saturday. You’d go straight to your room after Lady Barrow’s party.”
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