A Viscount's Proposal (The Regency Spies of London Book 2)

by Melanie Dickerson

  “I know no such thing. How could he have been, when he asked you to marry him?”

  “Yes, but I know he did not care for me. He was only doing the right thing. He always does the right thing.”

  “The strictly right thing would have been to marry Miss Norbury, since he showed his preference for her a dozen times.”

  “Well . . . he offered her compensation.”

  “He also danced with you, Felicity, to spite those impolite men who slighted you.” Which was so noble of him. “And he’s included you and Elizabeth in an invitation to our family to dine at Grimswood Castle in a week. Nicholas just told me.”

  “Only because he knew it would please you, Leorah.”

  It was no use arguing with Felicity. She was unfailingly modest and had never understood just how much of a beauty she was, as accustomed as she was to men disdaining her for her lack of fortune. And yet she believed Leorah capable of making any and every man fall madly in love with her. But Lord Withinghall could never care for Leorah, not in the passionate way she’d always intended to be loved, should she ever marry.

  Leorah followed Felicity’s gaze to where Miss Norbury sat talking with Mr. Hastings. Then she noticed the rest of the men had joined them. Leorah looked around at them all. There was no one of interest anymore now that Lord Withinghall was gone and Mr. Hastings would no longer even look at her.

  “All of your guests will be gone in two days,” Felicity said. “And Elizabeth and I are leaving in a week. Won’t you please come to London to us? There aren’t many parties in winter, only a few routs and dinners, but I promise to entertain you as well as I can.”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask Mother. You know just being with you is entertainment enough for me. I shall talk to Mother about it today.”

  Leorah excused herself to visit the retiring room, but when she was in the hall, she recognized Mr. Hastings talking to someone, their voices echoing from the shadowy nook under the back stairs.

  A man’s voice answered, “We can take her to the workhouse and still have time to get back to the rally in Surrey. You have the gun?”

  Leorah was nearly certain the other voice was that of Mr. Pinegar. But it seemed a strange conversation. Taking someone to the workhouse? Of course, as a Member of Parliament, Mr. Pinegar would probably attend a lot of political rallies, but a workhouse, a rally, and a gun seemed to have nothing at all to do with each other or Mr. Pinegar and Mr. Hastings.

  The men’s voices seemed to get lower, so Leorah continued on down the hall.

  The day of the dinner at Lord Withinghall’s family seat finally arrived. After the two-hour ride to Grimswood Castle, Leorah leaned her head out the window of the carriage to catch sight of the castle. She could smell the salt sea air, and even above the sound of the carriage wheels she could hear the roar of the waves against the rocky crags of the coastline.

  As the carriage rounded the bend in the road, the castle rose out of the lonely hill ahead. Not a single tree grew near the castle, and even grass was scarce on the stony ridge. The dark-gray towers of the castle rose high against the sky, which was streaked with a few wispy clouds.

  “What do you think?” Felicity asked.

  “I think I’ve never seen a more inviting castle.”

  Leorah sat back so Felicity could take a look.

  “Inviting?” Felicity’s voice rose. “It looks a bit frightening, as if a knight might ride down the rocks on his war horse and challenge us to a joust.”

  “I think it looks wild and ancient and . . . wonderful.” Indeed, Leorah’s heart was beating hard and fast as Felicity let her have another look out the window. White sea birds screeched as they circled the highest tower, and mullioned windows winked at them, reflecting the late-day sun and blue sky. Perfectly uniform crenellations ringed the top of two of the towers, while the other three rose into pointed rooftops. A flag with the Withinghall crest and colors flew from one such point.

  This magnificent castle—mysterious, formidable, traditional, and intriguing—fit its owner perfectly.

  The castle was just as impressive up close as it was from far away, and they were greeted by friendly servants and soon by Lord Withinghall himself.

  “Welcome to Grimswood Castle,” he said and led them to an enormous drawing room that also doubled as a library. The ceilings soared high over their heads, and one entire wall was lined with tall, arched, mullioned windows revealing both white clouds and blue sea.

  Leorah couldn’t resist walking over to a window. Below lay the dark, rocky crags, a narrow beach, and frothy waves. Her heart swelled at the wild beauty of the view.

  “Does it meet with your approval, Miss Langdon?”

  She turned to find Lord Withinghall standing behind her, gazing at her.

  “I have always especially enjoyed this room,” he went on, looking past her shoulder.

  “It is beautiful. I am not sure I’ve ever seen such an interesting view. It’s both relaxing and invigorating.”

  The rest of her party, including Felicity and Elizabeth, Leorah’s mother and father, and Nicholas and Julia, joined them at the windows, and they all exclaimed over the delightful prospect of the sea.

  An older man and woman entered the room, and Lord Withinghall said, “Miss Langdon, allow me to introduce to you my aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. William Dixon.”

  His aunt immediately clasped her hand and smiled up at her. Mr. Dixon was a portly but gentlemanly man with a polite manner. They all made the required small talk, after introducing Felicity and Elizabeth.

  “I have heard so much about you, Miss Langdon, from Edward,” Mr. Dixon said as Mrs. Dixon was talking with Felicity.

  “Oh dear. Now you make me worried, Mr. Dixon. Lord Withinghall and I have not always been the best of friends.”

  “I am surprised to hear that.” He raised his brows at Lord Withinghall. “Edward has spoken of you in the highest terms—a courageous and charitable young woman more concerned for the poor than the frivolities young people concern themselves with these days.”

  “Lord Withinghall is very kind.”

  The viscount briefly met her gaze and cleared his throat. “My uncle is often here at Grimswood and takes care of many of my business matters when I am away.”

  “Our only child died at a very young age,” Mr. Dixon said, “and Edward and his mother—my sister—were our only family. Family is very important, don’t you agree, Miss Langdon?”

  “I do most heartily agree, Mr. Dixon.”

  Lord Withinghall seemed more relaxed in his own home as they conversed with the man who must have been a better model of a man than his own father.

  Leorah’s father strode over and began dominating a conversation with Lord Withinghall and Mr. Dixon, so she moved back to the window and to Felicity’s side. A few moments later, someone said, “Miss Langdon?”

  Lord Withinghall was standing by her shoulder, and they turned toward him.

  “Would you and Miss Mayson and Miss Elizabeth like to take a tour of the castle?”

  They assured him they would, and Leorah got the impression that Lord Withinghall was hesitant to ask the rest of the guests. But he was too polite to leave anyone out, and soon they were all following Lord Withinghall out of the library and up the old stone steps to the next level of the castle.

  The viscount showed them several rooms and gave them some historical facts about various famous people who had stayed at the castle, including two kings.

  He also took them to the top of one of the crenelated towers. Because of the wind, only the men would venture out—except for Leorah. Lord Withinghall smiled and extended his arm to her when he saw she was willing to sacrifice her hairdressing to the wind so that she might see the view from every side of Grimswood Castle.

  The sun was painting orange and pink streaks across the sky, leaving enough light that they might enjoy the prospect. As she gazed across the wild landscape of grassy hills on one side and rocky cliffs on the other, Lord Withinghall said
, “It is a beautiful evening.”

  “Yes, very beautiful. I could imagine it being very difficult to leave such an invigorating landscape. You have everything here, every natural beauty—woods, hills, and rocky coast.”

  “I must admit, it is more enjoyable to see it through your eyes. I am accustomed to it, as I’ve lived here since I was born.”

  “Yes, the very familiar can lose some of its wonder.”

  He listened to everything she said with an attentive air, his eyes focused on her face. “And you don’t think I should change it—flatten those hills over there and make a formal garden?” He pointed to the hill nearest them on the west side, just north of the road leading up to the front of the castle.

  “Oh no. Certainly not. To change the natural landscape would be to take away the wild beauty of the place. Plant a few flowers if you like, but it would be a sin to change the wildness or the freedom of it.”

  He smiled thoughtfully, still gazing into her eyes.

  Father asked Lord Withinghall a question about what he was able to shoot there—pheasants or grouse—drawing his attention away from Leorah.

  Soon they all joined the ladies inside, then proceeded downstairs to the drawing room. When the butler announced, “Dinner is served,” Leorah was glad, as she was quite hungry.

  Once everyone was seated, Lord Withinghall said a simple but sincere grace to begin the meal, which progressed quite pleasantly. The viscount’s aunt, Mrs. Dixon, acted as hostess, and the older lady was quite witty and jovial. Leorah was seated near enough to Lord Withinghall that they were able to converse for short amounts of time, and she found his conversation to be intelligent but not arrogant, and as often as he could break away from talking to her loud, strident father, he listened attentively to whatever Leorah said.

  After dinner, the men did not stay long in the dining room before joining the ladies. They were all sitting together when Mrs. Dixon asked Leorah, “Won’t you play something for us? Edward says you play very well.”

  “I will play for you, if you wish, but I would not say I play very well.” She might have suggested that Julia was the one who played very well, but Julia did not look any too energetic, poor dear. She was still sick from her pregnancy and was even more quiet than usual.

  Leorah had not been practicing lately, and she was very aware that Lord Withinghall and the rest of the guests were her captive audience, everyone too polite to talk while she was playing. Had the viscount moved away from her father so he wouldn’t keep him from listening? She hoped he was not disappointed in her playing. Julia was the virtuoso, the one who played for the joy of it and when the family wanted a bit of music.

  When she finished her song, everyone clapped politely, and Lord Withinghall smiled, making her heart skip a beat. But why did her heart react that way? And why was she noticing more and more how truly handsome he was? He still dressed very conservatively, but his simply tied neckcloth and plain black coat could not disguise the intelligence of his blue eyes or the perfection of his straight nose and high cheekbones and strong jaw—not to mention his perfect mouth and dark hair.

  She would have to sort through the reasons why she seemed to be thinking of him so differently now, later when she was alone in her room. She did not like these complicated feelings, which made it seem as if she did not know herself.

  Leorah played one more song, then went back to sit with Felicity and Elizabeth.

  Her father managed to find a seat near Lord Withinghall and asked in a loud voice, even louder than normal, since he had been drinking, “I suppose you will be traveling back to London soon.”

  “Yes, I have to be there before November fourth, so I shall depart in a few days.”

  His leg must have healed, as he was no longer using his cane. Leorah’s wrist was healed as well, and she’d taken her first ride on Bucky just a few days before.

  They all talked for a while longer, until Nicholas suggested it was time for their party to depart and travel back to Glyncove Abbey. No doubt he was worried about Julia, who was beginning to look tired.

  Lord Withinghall himself followed them out to their carriage. As Leorah held on to his hand to step into the carriage, he said softly, “May God keep you safe.”

  She gazed into his eyes. What was he thinking, with that intense look?

  She sat down inside the carriage beside Felicity. The curtain was pulled back, and Lord Withinghall’s dark-blue eyes flashed in the light of the lantern he was holding as he stared back at her. Then the horses started forward, and he was gone.

  “How strange,” Mother said, “that Lord Withinghall has never invited us to dinner before and that he should invite us now.”

  Leorah couldn’t quite see her mother’s face in the dark carriage, but she imagined a tiny smile on her lips.

  “After all, we have lived near him for all these years.”

  Leorah huffed. “Cannot a man invite his neighbors for dinner without everyone speculating on his motives?” She should not snap at Mother, but it was disconcerting to hear her repeat the exact thing that was gnawing at her.

  Mother laughed, a small, quiet sound. “I am not speculating. I am merely noting that it is strange.”

  Truthfully, the possibilities made Leorah’s heart flutter like bird’s wings. Her feelings for the viscount had changed, and it seemed his had changed as well. But to what extent?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Two weeks after their dinner at Grimswood Castle, Felicity and Elizabeth traveled back home to London with a promise from Leorah—with permission from her mother—to come to them in January. Leorah would stay with them until her mother came back to their town house in March.

  By December, Leorah’s brother Jonathan and his wife, Isabella, had come back to Glyncove Abbey with their little cherub baby Marianne, and Nicholas and Julia still had not found an estate to purchase. But Julia was feeling better, with no more sickness, and her pregnancy was beginning to show. She smiled more but also cried at every sentimental thing, no matter how slight, that anyone said.

  What would it be like to carry a baby for nine months? It was something Leorah had never thought of, or if she had, had put it out of her mind quickly after a momentary feeling of horror. But she could not imagine that either Julia or Isabella had felt the least bit of horror at finding out they were pregnant. And now, as Leorah stood in the drawing room and stared out the window, she placed her hand on her stomach. The most subtle and gradual feeling came over her, a feeling of overwhelming tenderness. She could imagine a tiny baby growing and developing, loved and wanted and anticipated.

  Oh dear. She might actually want to have a baby someday.

  Leorah needed to take her mind off marriage and babies. She walked to where Nicholas had left the newspaper and picked it up. She quickly found the section that spoke of Parliament. The members of the House of Lords were sitting in Parliament December first and third and were expected to sit much of the month of December. Would Lord Withinghall come home for Christmas? Surely he would not stay in London. Surely he would get at least a month in Lincolnshire before he had to go back.

  “What is that you’re reading?” Nicholas was standing behind her, looking over her shoulder.

  “You startled me.” Indeed, her heart was racing. She closed the paper and put it down.

  “Were you reading Parliament’s schedule? I did not know that would interest you.”

  She could hear the teasing tone in his voice.

  “I am always interested in politics.”

  “Are you? I seem to recall you saying you found politics deadly tedious.”

  “That is only when you and Father are talking of tedious political subjects. You know I am always interested in the rights of women and children, any new bill about education for the poor. I am very politically aware.”

  “Mmm.”

  She stood to look her brother in the eye. “Besides, it is deadly dull around here.”

  “It feels as if everyone is in London.”
/>
  “Exactly!”

  Nicholas’s face broke into a smile.

  “What are you grinning for? I am going to go find Julia and Isabella—”

  As if her words had conjured them up—perhaps she had heard them in the hall—they appeared in the doorway.

  “Nicholas,” Julia said with a gentle smile, “are you bedeviling your sister?”

  “Not I. I was only helping Leorah to define why she is so irritable.”

  “Irritable. I am not irritable.” But of course, just saying it belied her words.

  “It is obvious,” Isabella chimed in. “She has only us married women to keep her company. She needs a ball or a dinner party to liven things up.”

  “Or a political rally.” The mysterious tone in Nicholas’s voice put Leorah on her guard.

  “What do you mean?” Julia said.

  “I mean there is a political rally planned in Surrey, near London, on children’s education, and a certain viscount we know has been asked to speak. And also to sponsor a bill on educating the poor.”

  Leorah’s heart thumped against her chest. Did her brother believe she was in love with Lord Withinghall? Was that why he was teasing her? She could not let on that her heart beat faster at the thought of seeing Lord Withinghall at a political rally. Instead she said, “How very interesting. I am always in favor of any bill involving educating the poor.”

  “The rally is not until February. Well before that, Mother is planning a Christmas Eve party here at Glyncove, and Lord Withinghall has already accepted the invitation.”

  Again, Leorah’s heart fluttered. But her brother and sisters-in-law were watching her. She raised her brows and folded her arms across her chest. “Surely Lord Withinghall is not to be our only guest.”

  “No, of course not.” Julia and Isabella began discussing the guest list, but Leorah barely listened.

  The papers had reported that Lord Withinghall’s proposal to a Miss L of Lincolnshire had been refused after the viscount’s carriage had overturned, trapping them inside. Then a few weeks later, they had reported that Lord Withinghall’s supposed imminent engagement to Miss N of Northamptonshire had never taken place and no longer seemed likely.