To Wed A Viscount

by Adrienne Basso

  Her actions must have also rendered her husband speechless, for the viscount said not a word. He merely smiled at her, then took his place appropriately at her side.

  Out of the corner of her eye Faith saw Meredith start to move away. She grasped her friend by the wrist and pulled her close. Thus Meredith joined the receiving line.

  Faith’s nerves gradually began to dwindle as each guest entered the room, their eyes filled with bright curiosity. There were murmurs of awe and approval over the decorations, compliments on the skills of the orchestra, along with an endless stream of hearty congratulations to the married couple. Some even sounded sincere.

  It felt strange to be receiving so many curtsies, especially from many of the older women in attendance, but her newly achieved rank of viscountess demanded such regard.

  When appropriate, Faith returned the gesture with women of greater or equal rank, surprised to realize there were very few who qualified. Lady Granville however was one such woman, and as she rose from a graceful curtsy Faith felt a strange sensation across the exposed area of her chest.

  With a start, Faith glanced down and discovered her mother’s necklace of pearls and diamonds had slid down her throat and come to nestle within the bodice of her dress.

  “Merry,” Faith hissed, the moment Lady Granville strolled away. “I need your help. Can you fasten my necklace?”

  Faith turned her back and discreetly plucked the jewelry from her gown, then handed it to her friend. Meredith fumbled with the clasp, but her gloved fingers made it difficult to work the fine catch.

  “Allow me,” a deep male voice said.

  Faith lifted her head. Griffin stood directly behind her, an unreadable expression on his face. She found herself trembling as his steady fingers fastened the necklace around her throat. His touch felt warm and familiar.

  Aside from the occasional arm offered to escort her to and from a room, this was the most intimate contact she’d had with him since the afternoon he’d kissed her nearly senseless in the garden.

  “ ’Tis a lovely piece. Was it your mother’s?” he inquired politely, when the necklace was securely around Faith’s throat.

  No, they were a gift from a former lover. The wicked, untrue response sprang to her lips. If only she possessed the nerve to utter it. Just once she would like to shock her husband out of his casual politeness with a truly outrageous remark.

  “Papa gave them to Mother on their first wedding anniversary,” Faith replied. Her hand touched the gems gingerly, making certain they were still in place. “Mother always told me they were her favorite.”

  “I have heard that sentiment often raises the value of a jewel in the owner’s estimation.” Griffin glanced again at the necklace. “But in my experience it has been the quality, number, and sparkle of the stones that elicit the most regard.”

  “Clearly you have been gifting the wrong women with gems, sir.” Faith averted her gaze, trying to control the painful spirt of jealousy that consumed her. She had never been very interested in jewelry, but knowing that Griffin had given pieces to other women rankled.

  He had never made any attempt to dispute his rakish reputation, yet his honesty did not make it easier to accept the fact that he had been intimate with other women.

  And he had given them jewelry, no doubt exquisite, expensive pieces. The only item he had ever given Faith was a wedding ring. Yet, wasn’t that symbolic article worth far more than a king’s ransom of diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires?

  Faith sighed at the thought, then averted her gaze. She hoped the orchestra would not delay much longer before striking up for the first dance and rescuing her from her gloomy musings.

  The music at last began and the eager dancers scrambled for partners. Griffin opened the ball by dancing with the highest ranking female in attendance who was not his wife, Lady Granville. Faith was partnered by Lord Granville, and she smiled brilliantly as the older gentleman trod on her toes, apologizing profusely with each painful stomp.

  The set mercifully ended, and Faith was released from her agony. The dance floor was crowded as couples lined up for the next set. Griffin seemed to suddenly disappear, but Merry was close at hand. She drew Faith’s arm through her own and generously included her in the large group of male admirers that had formed the moment they realized Meredith was not going to immediately join in the dancing.

  Meredith had willingly forgone the opening dance, and it was no surprise to Faith that her friend had succeeded in gathering such a court about her. Faith could feel and see the looks of female envy that were being cast their way, and she fought to hide her smile. None of the women would most likely believe it if they were told the truth. The lovely and vivacious Lady Meredith despised so much blatant male attention.

  “May I sign your dance card, my lady?”

  Faith smiled in some amusement at the young man who bowed before her. The points of his collar were so high and stiffly starched that his neck looked unusually long, and he could not move his head from side to side. With surprise, she realized this impressive dandy was none other than Squire Barton’s second son, Geoffrey.

  They were the same age and had attended many of the same local society functions. But this was the first time he had ever asked her to dance.

  “I would be delighted to dance with you,” Faith said graciously. “Though I am surprised you would sign my card when there are so many other lovely, single ladies present.”

  “You are the grandest lady here, Viscountess Dewhurst,” Geoffrey said with sincerity. “I am honored to be your partner.”

  A few male heads turned speculatively in her direction. Apparently Geoffrey’s interest in her spurred on his companions. Faith soon found herself passing her card to several other men, including the flame-haired eldest son of the most prosperous tenants of Mayfair Manor and the dapper Baron Harndon, a portly gentleman of haughty bearing.

  There was much good-natured revelry as the men began vying for the two women’s attentions. Faith could scarcely believe that some seemed as interested in her as they did in Merry.

  Faith glowed under all the unexpected attention, deciding it was all harmless fun. She smiled and flirted, tapping her fan on a male shoulder, pressing her fingers on the sleeve of a gentleman’s coat. She was having a wonderful time. She tried to catch Merry’s eye, to share her amusement, but was unable.

  Faith could, however, see Merry’s foot tapping with some impatience as she feigned interest in a story one of her admirers was recounting, and Faith was doubly grateful for her friend’s support. Normally Meredith would not put up with such nonsense from such an assortment of young bucks. Faith knew Merry was only doing this for her sake, to ensure that her party, and Faith, were a success.

  Mr. Huxtable elbowed his way to her side, smiled, and bowed. “My dance, I believe.”

  Faith consulted her card, which was nearly full. “So it is,” she said, placing a hand on his sleeve.

  The pattern of the dance allowed for limited conversation, but at every opportunity Mr. Huxtable flattered her outrageously. Faith responded in kind, enjoying every moment of this harmless fun.

  In the midst of glittering couples, Faith saw Griffin whirl by, holding his sister Elizabeth in his arms. The young girl was smiling happily with a look of such fragile innocence and youth it made Faith’s heart ache.

  When the dance ended, Mr. Huxtable returned Faith to her circle of admirers, which had amazingly doubled in size. Her next partner quickly stepped up and Faith was whisked away. The dances followed in quick succession and she soon found herself breathless from the exercise.

  Finally there was a set without a partner, but the circle of ever-present male admirers soon had Faith laughing and flirting, affording her little chance to relax and catch her breath.

  Suddenly, a strong male voice interrupted the boisterous laughter. Faith lifted her head and saw her husband gazing with great interest at the group of men clustered about her. He took a moment to stare at each man in turn, as i
f sizing up their measure. Then he directed his stare at her.

  Faith decided it must be a trick of the light, for the viscount glowered, looking bothered by all the attention she was receiving.

  “Your dance card, madame.” Griffin held out his hand expectantly.

  Faith flushed and wordlessly gave him the card. She was grateful that she was standing in a candlelit area of the room so any change in the color of her cheeks would not be so noticeable.

  “Why, you partnered me for three dances, my lord,” Faith exclaimed when she read the returned card, noticing that he had crossed out two names and added his in their stead. “I am honored.”

  “Three dances,” an older gentleman with gray-streaked hair groaned. “I say, Dewhurst, no fair monopolizing the most charming woman at the ball. You need to give the rest of us a chance.”

  Griffin’s face wore a casual, even bored expression, but his eyes were penetrating and alert. “Never let it be said that I neglect my wife,” he replied. “Nor that I don’t honor, value, and protect what is mine.”

  The message was clearly understood. Several of the men backed away from her, while others turned their attention to a passing servant carrying a tray of drinks. The blush that had started earlier was now a fiery glow that spread over Faith’s face and part of her neck.

  Yet Faith could not help but be intrigued by the bold way she was being eyed. By Griffin. With a pounding heart she stepped eagerly into her husband’s embrace.

  Griffin guided her to the center of the ballroom floor, set his hand firmly at her waist, and took her hand in his. The music began, and Faith struggled to hold back a sigh.

  She had danced an earlier waltz with Sir Perry, and she could not help but compare the two men. Sir Perry danced the steps with competence but lacked the grace and style that seemed to come so naturally to her husband.

  As if reading her thoughts, Griffin spun her expertly around a corner of the floor. “You appear to be enjoying yourself a great deal this evening,” he remarked in a tight voice. “That was quite a collection of characters you were holding court with.”

  Faith stared dumbly at her husband. If she didn’t know better she would say that he almost sounded jealous. But that was impossible.

  “I am having a lovely time,” she responded. “I cannot remember ever dancing so much at one ball. The gentlemen have been most attentive.”

  “Be careful, Faith. You are not experienced in these matters and would not want your actions misunderstood.”

  Faith waved her hand dismissively. “I have watched Meredith handle these young bucks most of my adult life. I know how to be friendly without seeming to encourage, how to appear interested without seeming to single out one particular individual.”

  Faith blushed, lowered her chin, then coyly lifted her lashes. “You must concede I’ve gotten some of it right. How else would I have managed to get the dashing Viscount Dewhurst to partner me for three dances? When the correct rule of good society is that no one can dance more than twice with the same gentleman in the same evening.”

  “I am your husband. The rules do not apply in my case.”

  “Such arrogance, sir.”

  “ ’Tis the part of my nature that you find most appealing.”

  “So you would like to believe,” Faith retorted, but his self-deprecating smile charmed her completely.

  “There was an ulterior motive to deliberately claiming the remaining waltzes on your dance card.” Griffin took a deep breath. “You might not be an overly tall woman, but at least I can waltz comfortably without looking down at you and getting a crick in my neck.”

  “ ’Tis a comfort to know that I can provide such an important function, my lord,” Faith replied with an exaggerated sigh of resignation.

  “Yes, it pleases me also.”

  Faith jerked her head sharply, but the laughter in his eyes told her he was teasing her. She had a wicked impulse to trod on his toe, but squashed it.

  Instead, Faith gave herself up to the magic of their dance, the joy of being held so intimately in Griffin’s arms. The intense heat that emanated from Griffin’s body produced the familiar desire to press herself closer against it.

  To forget, for just a moment, that the ballroom was filled with friends and neighbors, individuals who would be thoroughly and properly shocked at her carnal thoughts and desires.

  Her nearly uncontrollable lust. For her husband.

  She lifted her face to his. There was a sexual awareness in the viscount’s gaze that told her he felt the attraction between them.

  A strange expression passed over Griffin’s face. For one horrifying instant Faith worried that she had spoken her thoughts aloud.

  Then she realized the music had ended, but they were still clasped in an intimate embrace. Faith heard a startled whisper, then another. Without thinking, she pulled herself out of Griffin’s arms, taking a step backward to a more proper distance.

  Anger flashed briefly in his eyes. Their gazes locked and held.

  “I shall return to claim my other dances,” Griffin promised in a deep voice. “Make certain that you are ready.”

  He kissed her hand gallantly, then bowed. As he walked away he took with him a small part of Faith’s enjoyment of the ball.

  Fourteen

  It had been a lovely evening of dancing and music, complete with a true sense of community and camraderie. Faith had been most pleased to discover that the local society who had looked upon her these past ten years with a jaundiced eye now seemed more tolerant, more accepting of her.

  She was no longer Baron Aston’s spoiled little girl, the one that Neville Sainthill was promised to but didn’t seem all that anxious to marry.

  She was now the Viscountess Dewhurst, a woman whose favor was courted. The simple addition of a gold wedding band had transformed her into someone to be reckoned with, not ignored.

  “You must be dead on your feet, my lady,” the maid said with a sympathetic smile. “Dancing well past midnight. Why, I can’t remember the last time a party went so late into the night. Or should I say early into the morning.”

  “It was a wonderful ball,” Faith declared. She yawned slowly as the weariness suddenly seemed to overtake her. “Yet I have not felt tired all evening. Not until you mentioned the lateness of the hour.”

  Faith gave a laugh as the maid pulled out her hairpins with efficient fingers. Once free of the constraints, Faith shook loose her hair. The maid picked up the brush and started to run it through Faith’s thick brown hair.

  Faith leaned back and relaxed, but instead of closing her eyes, she regarded herself solemnly in the mirror. Her eyes were tired but still sparkling, her complexion flushed rosy with excitement from the evening’s festivities.

  She lifted a thick clump of hair, drawing it close to her face, and silently contemplated the plain, brown locks. There were strands of red and even gold intermixed with the brown, but the darker color was most prevalent. Faith pulled the hair forward, over her shoulders, and tilted her head.

  How would she look with golden hair curling artfully about her face? she wondered. As pretty as Merry?

  Faith nearly laughed out loud at the very idea. No, that was not possible. No one was as pretty as Meredith. Every male in the room had noticed her tonight. And the lucky few who had received the honor of a spoken word or a brief dance had been transformed with delight.

  Griffin had danced with Lady Meredith also, and the jealousy that swamped Faith as they glided gracefully across the ballroom had made her feel small and petty. They made a stunning couple—Griffin so dark and handsome, Meredith so fair and beautiful. More than one guest had commented aloud over that fact.

  It had taken a great effort to hide the sudden, sharp pangs of envy she had felt, that hollowness that settled firmly in the pit of her stomach. Yet Faith had no real cause to complain. She too had several admirers this evening.

  For once she had not been a forgotten wallflower, languishing among the silver-haired chaperons. It
had taken only twenty minutes for her dance card to become full. And it was not only the older, married men who had asked. The few young dandies who resided in Harrowby had also sought her attention.

  But that attention all paled in comparison to the moment when Griffin had stood before her and formally bowed. For Faith, nothing else that evening had come close to the enchantment of dancing with her husband.

  The waltzes she shared with Griffin had been the undisputed highlight of the night. The subtle brush of his fingers on her back had made her tremble. Being once again held in his arms had brought a shiver inside Faith that started up from her toes.

  She had hoped he would kiss her. Even a quick stolen kiss after their waltz would have been welcome. Or a moonlit walk in the garden where they could recapture some of the magic that had stirred between them before they became man and wife.

  Or rather, before she had tricked and deceived Griffin into marrying her.

  “All finished,” the maid announced cheerfully. She placed the hairbrush on the dressing table and went in search of Faith’s nightgown. As soon as the viscountess was dressed in her nightclothes, the maid left.

  With a sigh, Faith climbed into bed and lay quietly for several minutes, then turned on her side, plumping the pillows. After a few more restless turns Faith gave up the fight, admitting that even though she felt tired, she was too tense to sleep.

  She rose from the bed, absently rubbing the back of her neck as she wandered toward the other side of her chamber, coming to rest by the windows. With a sigh, Faith perched on the low window casement, drew her knees up under her chin, and gazed out at the clear night sky.

  There was a bright, full moon and myriad twinkling stars lighting the heavens. It seemed a magical night. A night of promise. A night for lovers.

  Yet she had no lover. Just a disinterested husband, who most likely thought her more of a bother than she was worth. She cast an eye toward the door that connected her bedchamber to Griffin’s. It was shut tight, as always.