For the Love of the Viscount (The Noble Hearts Series Book 1)

by Callie Hutton

  But then, in all honesty, she had to admit even she had no idea from whence Lord Blackwell had come to offer his attentions. Strange, that.

  “Good afternoon, my lord.” She gave him a slight curtsey, then turned to Blackwell. “Lord Blackwell, may I make known to you Viscount St. George?” She paused. “My lord, may I introduce the Earl of Blackwell?”

  Both men bowed and eyed each other with such scrutiny Elise almost laughed out loud. They looked like dogs circling a meaty bone.

  “My lord!” A voice shattered the low hum of conversation and drove a shudder though Elise’s body. Miss Abbott hurried up to them, her plain face pinched with annoyance. She took Simon’s arm and, smoothing out the frown on her face, smiled brightly. “I hadn’t realized you arrived.” She tapped him on the arm with her fan. “I thought you would come find me.”

  “I am sorry, my lady, please forgive me. However, I have only just now arrived.”

  Elise nearly snorted at the false words spewing from Simon’s mouth. She looked back and forth at Blackwell and Miss Abbott. Neither one of them realized the insincerity of his words. Didn’t they hear the artifice in his voice?

  Apparently not.

  “Good afternoon, my lord, my lady,” Miss Abbott said to Blackwell and Elise, tugging Simon’s arm even closer. “I am so glad you were able to join us for our little party.”

  Miss Abbott then spent five minutes reciting all the things necessary for one to put on a “little event,” as she called the garden party. To hear her tell it, she had personally visited the markets to buy the food, cooked it, decorated the garden, and hauled the tables from inside the house to the patio area, instead of all those jobs being done by servants.

  She looked up at Simon, batting her eyelashes. “Would you care to take a stroll in the garden?”

  Simon looked as though he was headed to the executioner. He glared at Elise, the silent message being that she was supposed to be protecting him from any situation that Miss Abbott maneuvered him into that might result in the parson’s noose.

  “What a wonderful idea, Miss Abbott.” Elise turned to Blackwell. “Shall we join them, my lord?”

  Blackwell looked surprised, as if he wasn’t even sure what a stroll, or even a garden, was. “Yes, of course. That is a lovely idea.” He held his arm out, and Elise took it.

  “How nice of you to join us,” Miss Abbot said, looking as though she’d found a nasty piece of business on the bottom of her shoe.

  Elise grinned a smile as insincere as she could make it. Simon rolled his eyes.

  The four of them descended the patio steps to the garden and began their stroll.

  ***

  Simon would never get enough of watching Elise’s body as she walked with Blackwell in front of him and Miss Abbott. The gentle sway of her hips, the curls that fell from her topknot caught by the light breeze, her long, slender neck, the melodious sound of her voice as she conversed with Blackwell.

  Damn the man.

  Simon was still stunned by the turn of events. He’d thought he and Pomeroy had gotten on quite well the couple of times they’d spoken, so why would he bring in someone else as a potential husband for Elise? And why did that bother him so much? Of course, he told himself, it merely meant he had not held up his end of their deal—keeping men away from her. That was all, nothing else. He’d let her down.

  It frightened him to think it meant more than that. He’d sworn since he was ten years old and his mother had abandoned him and his father to run off with a lover that he would never marry. His father had spent the rest of his days sitting in his library, drinking. That only lasted a year until he rode out one night and was thrown from his horse and broke his neck. Simon knew it had not been an accident. The man had given up on life. A lesson well-learned for an eleven-year-old boy: Don’t allow anyone to have that much control over your feelings.

  Because of his mother’s treachery, he’d been left an orphan and titleholder at a very young age. No carefree childhood for him. If his mother had ever learned of her husband’s death, he did not know. He’d never seen her again, and no one had ever mentioned her to him. He believed the family solicitors had attempted to find her but were unsuccessful. The last he’d heard, she was in Italy.

  While he ruminated on the problem of what to do about Blackwell, Miss Abbott’s shrill voice prattled on about some nonsense having to do with the correct ribbon to match a gown. The entire monologue was making him itchy. Thank God Blackwell and Elise had agreed to walk with them. He could only imagine Miss Abbott—or her mother—conniving to have them caught in a compromising positon with all the guests at the garden party as witnesses.

  He shuddered to think of a life listening to her jarring voice every single day. At least his heart would not be in danger.

  Just his ears and sanity.

  They continued their walk, the meandering path bringing them back to the rest of the party. Simon managed to shake off Miss Abbott’s arm when her mother called to her. He immediately made his way over to Blackwell and Elise. “My lady, may I have a word with you?”

  Elise turned to Blackwell. “Do you mind, my lord?”

  The older man assured them it was perfectly fine with him. An odd smile graced his face, which Simon dismissed. Blackwell wandered to the table against the balustrade, perusing the variety of foods.

  Simon escorted Elise away from the general crowd, making sure they stayed in sight, but not where they could be overheard. “What the devil is going on?”

  Elise whispered furiously. “I have no idea. You were supposed to keep other men away.”

  “That was precisely what I was doing. Your father seemed pleased when we spoke,” Simon shot back. “How did all of this come about?”

  Elise looked at the other guests and leaned in, lowering her voice. “Papa called me to his study two days ago and told me he’d found a husband for me. Before I could even grasp that information, Blackwell showed up. The next thing I knew, Papa had accepted the invitation for this garden party on my behalf.”

  “I thought we agreed we would attend together,” he snapped. Realizing how possessive that sounded, he added, “Because, you know, you were supposed to protect me from Miss Abbott.”

  Elise stuck her finger into his chest. “If you want my help with that ninny-hammer, you have to find a way to get rid of Blackwell.”

  He huffed. “What shall I do, kiss you senseless right here in front of everyone?”

  His breath hitched at the look on Elise’s face. The anger was still there, but somehow had segued into something strangely resembling passion. Her eyes darkened, and she licked her lips. Both of them were breathing heavily.

  Bloody hell, why had he said that? Now all he could think about was how sweet she’d tasted. How soft and warm her lips had been. How her mouth tasted of tea and Elise, and how her body pressed to his had felt exactly right. All the blood that had been pounding in his head since she and Blackwell had arrived immediately took a journey south.

  “No,” she said, her voice raspy, “of course, I don’t expect you to do that.” She continued to stare at him with a look that said she wished for the exact opposite of her words.

  “My lord, we’ve decided to play Pall Mall. I have already claimed you as my partner.” Miss Abbot’s strident voice broke whatever spell Elise had cast on him. The chit walked up to them and linked her arm into his. “Lady Elise, I am sure you and your escort, Lord Blackwell, will wish to join us.”

  Elise shook her head as if clearing it. “Yes. That sounds like just the thing.” She made a quick dip in his direction. “If you will excuse me, my lord.” She hurried away from him, taking all the sunlight with her.

  Damnation!

  Chapter Five

  There were a total of four couples for the Pall Mall game. It was decided Blackwell and Simon and their partners would team up to play against Mr. Woodward, Lord Appleton, and their partners.

  Although Elise had not spent much time on Society foolery, she’d
played quite a few games in the country with her sisters. Pall Mall was one of her favorite games, and she was good, as well as fiercely competitive. She picked her mallet and ball, and returned to Blackwell’s side. “Are you familiar with the game, my lord?”

  “Yes. I have played a number of times. I won’t say I’m the best at it, but I do think I will not disgrace us.”

  “Good.” Elise nodded. “I have played the game for years.”

  He smiled at her. “We should acquit ourselves quite well, then.”

  The two teams gathered, a coin was tossed, and their team went first.

  “I think we should allow the ladies first crack at it,” Blackwell said. He nodded in Miss Abbott’s direction. “Miss Abbott, you may start.”

  “Oh, dear. Now that I have suggested this game, I am not certain how to stand or hold the mallet.” She giggled and looked in Simon’s direction. Elise gritted her teeth and rolled her eyes.

  Simon sighed and walked up to her, placing her hands in the correct position on the mallet. He did not stand behind and wrap his arms around her, which Elise was grateful for. “Do you know what the object of the game is?”

  “Yes. I think it is to knock the ball through those little loop things.” She looked up at him and batted her eyelashes.

  Elise mumbled something very unladylike under her breath, and Blackwell grinned.

  The addlebrained woman barely tapped the ball. It rolled no more than a few inches. “Oh, dear. That’s not good, is it?”

  “We’re never going to win with her on our team.” Elise said it low enough that only Blackwell heard her. He nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

  Simon looked over at her when she growled. “Lady Elise, you are next.”

  She stomped up and told herself to calm down. She had the desire to whack the ball so hard it would land on Bond Street, but that would not help her team. Taking a deep breath, she hit the ball with just enough force to send it right through the first hoop.

  “Well done!” Lord Blackwell said.

  Simon gave her a short salute.

  Miss Abbott annoyed everyone with her whining voice. “Oh, I’m afraid Lady Elise is so much more athletic than I am.”

  C'est la vérité.

  Simon was next and also put his ball through the hoop.

  “Oh, how wonderful, my lord. You are such an excellent team member,” Miss Abbott panted.

  Elise felt the need to whack the woman over her head with her mallet.

  Blackwell stepped up next and got close to the hoop, a few inches shy.

  “Oh, dear, everyone is so much better than me.”

  Oh, that voice.

  “Perhaps you would prefer to sit the game out, Miss Abbott, since you are so unaccustomed to athletic events.” Elise looked around. “I am sure there is a tree somewhere you could sit underneath. I have no doubt the three of us will be able to win against the other team while you rest.”

  Miss Abbott’s drawn-in breath and Simon’s choking sound brought Elise a bit of satisfaction.

  Miss Abbott glared at her with steely eyes. This woman might play the soft fluff-head, but she was a worthy opponent. Good. Elise was in the mood for the challenge.

  It amazed Elise how improved Miss Abbot’s skills became after their little confrontation. The men watched with mounting amusement as the two women hacked at their balls. Elise drove Miss Abbott’s ball into the pond. She, in turn, propelled Elise’s into a flowerbed that had Lady Townsend screeching about her flowers.

  They both ignored her as they glared at each other and took aim.

  Elise hit her ball hard enough to knock Miss Abbott’s into the shrubbery. Undaunted, the girl climbed into the bushes and smacked her ball into Elise’s leg. Elise ignored the pain and limped to the next loop. On her way, she stepped on Miss Abbott’s ball, sinking it a couple of inches into the soft ground

  When Miss Abbott stood to hit her ball, she took out tufts of grass in her enthusiasm to cuff her ball. The team they were supposed to be playing against had fallen far behind. No one was even keeping score. Each round became more contentious until Simon pulled Elise aside and said, “Maybe we should calm down a bit.”

  She tugged her elbow free. “This isn’t a game, my lord. This is war.”

  Elise whacked her ball, and it flew through the final hoop, striking a tree. It ricocheted off, smacking Lord Howell in the back of the head, where he sat speaking with Lady Miller. The man slumped to the ground.

  Elise held her mallet in the air and whooped.

  Miss Abbot pushed Elise aside, almost knocking her to the ground, and walloped her ball right through the final hoop, sending it over the garden fence to smash a window on the townhouse next door. She raised her chin and regarded Elise.

  “I believe it is a draw, my lady.”

  Once Elise and Miss Abbot apologized for the damage they had done, a very rattled Lady Townsend announced there would be music, and the guests were invited to dance if they wished. Since the space was small, and Elise was still feeling restless from the game, she asked Blackwell to walk with her in the garden again.

  “My lady, the orchestra has advised me the third number will be a waltz. May I have the pleasure of that dance?” Simon grinned, apparently still amused by the game she and Miss Abbott had just finished. Perhaps he found it humorous they hadn’t resorted to hair pulling and rolling on the ground. After all, she was still a lady.

  Blackwell nodded at her. “Please feel free to accept Lord St. George’s request. Surely we will be back from our stroll by then.”

  A cotillion started up and Miss Abbott hurried over to them, her obvious intention to capture Simon for the first dance. Elise would enjoy a waltz with Simon. She told herself it was merely because if he was waltzing with her, he would not be waltzing with Miss Abbott. “Yes, my lord, I would enjoy a waltz.”

  She and Blackwell made their way into the garden. He was truly a very nice man, had not chastised her for her behavior during the game, and seemed eager to please her, whether it was a stroll in the garden or a dance with another gentleman. He would make someone a very nice husband.

  Just not her.

  As they returned from their walk and approached the patio, the waltz started up. Simon walked slowly toward her, a slight smile on his face, holding out his hand. She looked into his eyes and something there had her lady parts sitting up and singing a serenade. Her nipples grew hard, and a slight shudder ran through her. Her heart sped up and she felt flushed, almost as if she were suffering a fever. She placed her hand in his, and the feelings only grew stronger.

  They walked to the area set aside for dancing, and he swung her into his arms. “Lady Elise, who knew a bluestocking such as yourself was so competitive?” His eyes flashed with humor, and his grin had her smiling back.

  His warm hand on her lower back heated the spot right through his glove. “I do not like to lose, my lord.”

  “So it appeared.” He leaned in closer, even though some of the older ladies might be scandalized. “You have quite the temper. I wonder how many other ways you might release that fury.”

  She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. “I am not sure I know what you mean.”

  “Ah, yes you do. You are far too intelligent to not know of what I speak.”

  If her heart beat any louder it would drown out the music. “Should I be outraged? Should I slap your face?”

  His eyes grew sultry. “Do you want to?” he whispered, and pulled her too close for propriety. She moved in slightly to press her breasts against his coat. Simon sucked in a breath and his nostrils flared. “Be careful, my lady, you are playing with fire.”

  “Who says I’m playing?”

  He drew in in air through his teeth. “We must stop this now, or I will not be able to walk away from the dance area without disgracing myself. Now behave yourself.” He loosened his grip and she moved back, a smirk on her face.

  They finished the dance, and he returned her to Blackwell since Miss Abbott was remind
ing him he owed her a dance. He bowed. “Thank you, my lady.”

  Blackwell touched her elbow. “Would you care for another dance?”

  “No. In fact, if you don’t mind, I believe I would like to leave. I find the sun has given me a slight headache.”

  “Of course.” He extended his arm and she laid her fingers there. They approached Lady Townsend and thanked her. The hostess eyed Elise with disdain, but said nothing untoward. Blackwell requested one of the footmen to have his carriage brought around.

  Once they were away from the noise of the crowd and the distraction of Simon, Elise relaxed. Her feelings and emotions were troubling her. She’d never before in her life felt the things she did with Simon. Her body still felt alive, but prickly at the same time, as if she was missing something.

  She felt as though her clothes were scratching her skin and constricting her. There was a definite dampness between her legs, and she had an overpowering urge to push that part of her body against something hard.

  Whatever was happening to her? While she knew all about passion, she had never experienced it and was afraid it was the dance with Simon that had brought this all about. There was no doubt all these sensations and feelings would be assuaged by his attentions.

  Again she thought it might be a good idea to take him as a lover. They were both intelligent, mature adults. Neither wanted anything as permanent as marriage. How would she go about suggesting it? Did one simply walk up to the man and say I would like you to be my lover, my lord. What say you?

  Maybe that was the way to do it.

  ***

  Simon dropped the knocker against the door to the Pomeroy townhouse. The butler greeted him with friendliness and said, “Lady Elise will be down momentarily. His lordship requests that you join him in his study.”

  He followed the butler to the study, where he found Pomeroy busy at his desk. He looked up and waved Simon in. “Come in, my boy. So good to see you. Have a seat.” He spoke to the butler. “Have Cook send in coffee and rolls.”