The Viscount in Her Bedroom

by Gayle Callen

  Louisa stiffened at the insult, even though she already knew how poorly Ellen had treated Georgie.

  “We are friends,” Georgie said simply, hands folded in her lap.

  Louisa was proud of the calm way Georgie was responding to her mother.

  Lady Wade leaned toward Georgie and patted her hand. “Your mother would want to know that you might be more than friends, my child.”

  Georgie smiled at Ellen. “If we are, I promise I’ll let you know, Mother.”

  “But you should take advantage of meeting eligible men this weekend,” Ellen said. “Probably nothing will come of it, but you never know.”

  Louisa bit her lip to keep from defending Georgie, and then was thrilled when her student spoke up for herself.

  “I’m finally learning to enjoy Society, Mother. We’ve been attending many parties. I’m dancing, conversing, and in general proving that I’ve grown up. I hope you will accept that.”

  Ellen looked surprised, but before she could speak, Lady Wade said, “Georgie has been enjoying the companionship and assistance of Louisa. They’ve worked well together, and I think the combination has been a success. We’ve even gone to London to have a whole new wardrobe made for Georgie.”

  But Ellen didn’t look at her daughter, or admire the lovely gown she was wearing. Once again, Louisa was the focus of Ellen’s icy green gaze. Louisa only continued to smile pleasantly.

  Footsteps echoed on the marble floor outside the drawing room, and Simon entered, his cane held before him. Louisa knew she should look away, because she was certain she was blushing. He was clothed elegantly in dark green, but when she looked at him, she remembered him naked in her bed.

  “I hear we have company,” he said.

  Ellen rose to her feet and hurried to him. “It is your mother, dear boy.”

  He leaned down for her kiss as if it were natural between them. Ellen had not kissed Georgie.

  “Has your servant left you utterly alone?” Ellen asked, aghast. “Let me take your arm, Simon.”

  “Good day, Mother,” Simon said. “Please, such attention is no longer necessary. Are you here for a visit?”

  “Here for a house party, Simon,” Georgie told him. “This weekend at our own Enfield Manor.”

  His eyebrows rose. “So Grandmama, you decided to surprise us?”

  “Your sister and Louisa need to meet young men,” Lady Wade said.

  Louisa stilled at the mention of her name. What did Simon think of her meeting other men? Did he even care?

  But this time Ellen ignored the mention of Louisa’s name linked with her daughter’s. She had Simon’s arm, and was trying to lead him, but if he hadn’t had the cane, Ellen would have run him right into a low table.

  Simon cocked his head. “Matchmaking, Grandmama?”

  “Bringing together old friends,” Lady Wade said, her grin saying otherwise. “There will be eligible young ladies for you and Leo. And I invited your good friend Lord Thurlow.”

  Louisa couldn’t withhold a thrilled gasp. “My sister is coming?”

  “She accepted. As did your other sister, Mrs. O’Neill.”

  Louisa could barely keep from clapping her hands together with glee, or enveloping the dear old lady in a hug. Instead she said, “Lady Wade, you are too generous. Thank you so much.”

  “Your sister married an Irishman,” Ellen said.

  Ellen looked at Simon as if this was only further proof, but of course he could only hear her.

  “His brother was the duke of Thanet,” Simon said. “And now he is guardian for his nephew—the duke.”

  “I see,” his mother said softly. “And will the duke be attending?”

  “He’s only seven, Lady Wade,” Louisa said.

  “But he’s coming,” the elder Lady Wade said.

  If Louisa was smart, she would have all her belongings packed so she could leave with Victoria.

  She looked at Simon. She had to be smart. She had to leave him. Her heart was already broken; the longer she stayed, the harder it would be to mend.

  “We have so much to do,” Georgie said with a groan.

  Lady Wade smiled. “Perhaps you and your mother could take care of the menus. Louisa, if you would make certain that the staff has already prepared all the guest rooms.”

  “That is my place, Mother Wade,” Ellen insisted.

  Lady Wade’s smile faded. “As you wish, Ellen. I’m sure I’ll find plenty of things I’ll need help with.”

  “Grandmama,” Georgie said, “show me what entertainment you’ve planned.”

  “I have a list in the morning room. You’ll be thrilled.”

  As they both rose, Ellen said, “Miss Shelby, please see that my room is prepared. I usually use the green suite.”

  “Right next to yours, Louisa,” Lady Wade said helpfully. “But I’m sure the housekeeper has already—”

  “No, that’s all right,” Louisa interrupted. “I would be pleased to make sure everything is ready for Lady Wade.” She curtsied to them all and began to walk across the room.

  Simon realized that he must have missed quite an exchange, because Louisa sounded glad to escape. As she moved by him, the air swirled with the current of her scent, roses in summertime.

  He inhaled and said softly, “I’m certain you curtsied when I entered.”

  “Always, my lord,” she answered back.

  And then she was gone, and the room seemed colder. For her sake, he was glad her sisters would be coming.

  “She is a polite girl,” his mother said, as if that was all that could be said about Louisa. “Simon, I would like to speak to you in private.”

  Damn. He’d really been hoping that his mother had left with the others. “Has everyone gone?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “So we’re alone. I’m glad you were able to attend the house party.”

  “So many people had already left Scotland for the London Season. But I was coming here even before I received your grandmother’s invitation.”

  “You missed me?” he said lightly.

  “I heard that your grandmother hired that Shelby woman.” Her voice was full of outrage.

  Simon’s smile faded, and he clenched his jaw. “She has been of great help to Grandmama.”

  “And to your sister, I hear.”

  “Yes, she has. How can you have any complaints, when Georgie finally seems to be blossoming?”

  His mother was very good at ignoring what she wanted to. “Has that Shelby woman tried to be alone with you?”

  He frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “You may not be aware, Simon, but that woman has a reputation.”

  “What kind of reputation?” Simon asked. He felt a little ill, knowing that he himself had once had the same reservations.

  “She is known to be of…easy virtue,” she said primly.

  “Once you know her, you will see that the rumors are just that—rumors.”

  “Surely Leo told you—”

  “Hell, he told you!”

  “Simon, your language!”

  “He was drunk when he proved himself less than a gentleman by repeating such gossip to me. What excuse did he have for telling you?”

  “I admit that he did not realize I was close enough to overhear his conversation with you.”

  “That’s because he was drunk,” Simon said with disgust. “I wonder why I didn’t see you. Were you hiding?”

  “Simon!”

  “Regardless, please treat Miss Shelby with the respect she deserves.”

  She sighed dramatically. “I fear I am already too late.”

  “Too late to treat her well?”

  “Too late to keep her from…attaching herself to you.”

  Simon sat back, surprised and disturbed. What did his mother know—or guess? “So what happened between you ladies before I arrived?”

  “Nothing, but I am very good at guessing people’s motivations.”

  Or ascribing nasty motivations to something cl
early innocent, but he knew better than to say that aloud.

  And what he had shared with Louisa was hardly innocent, but that was his fault.

  “And what would Miss Shelby’s motivations be beyond the obvious?” Simon asked. “Grandmama employed her, then asked her to help ease Georgie’s shyness.”

  “That woman’s father was a mere banker!” she said, as if the career were no better than that of a chimney sweep. “And he lost everything!”

  “And Louisa had to look for work in order to survive.”

  “You call her by her Christian name?” his mother said, aghast.

  Ignoring that, he continued, “So you’re judging her for faults not her own?”

  “It is certainly her own fault if she came here specifically for your money and family connections.”

  Simon had once wondered the same thing. Was he really so much like his mother?

  At least he learned from his mistakes. Louisa only had the best, most generous intentions in everything she did. But he could hardly say that to his mother. “Louisa is not—”

  “She knows you can’t do any better,” his mother interrupted. “How cruel of her to take advantage of you like this. I just refuse to let it happen.”

  If Simon could stare in shock, he would be doing it. His mother didn’t think a woman could want him as he was. At least Simon himself only thought he’d be a burden to a wife.

  He shouldn’t be surprised—his mother’s behavior toward him had vastly changed after his accident, as if she didn’t know how to treat him anymore. He was no longer her socially successful son.

  She’d obviously decided on a course of action. She’d protect him from unscrupulous women—as if he couldn’t protect himself.

  And she wanted to protect him from Louisa. It was almost laughable. Who was going to protect Louisa from him?

  He was the one who’d hurt her.

  He was the one who was in love, and didn’t want to take the chance that she might love him in return.

  He was worried about accepting pity—God, was he really so much like his mother?

  That eased his anger somewhat. “Promise me that you will not bother Louisa. She is a good woman with only the best of motives. She doesn’t deserve your censure.”

  She remained silent.

  “Mother.”

  “Oh very well, Simon, I will say nothing to her. But if she betrays herself—”

  “I will handle it.”

  “But Simon, the house will be full of people! I know how difficult that will be for you. You need me.”

  Maybe she was trying to make amends in her own misguided way. He sighed. “Mother, you’ll be pleasantly surprised at how well I’m getting used to people again. At the last ball, I even danced a waltz.”

  “You danced?” she said, not sounding happy about it.

  That revelation might have been a mistake.

  Suspiciously, she said, “I didn’t think Georgie capable of such confidence.”

  He just smiled. But his mother was clever.

  “Your grandmother doesn’t waltz anymore. It had to be—oh Simon,” she said with heavy disappointment. “It is a good thing I’m here.”

  Chapter 23

  That night, Louisa was glad to finally retreat to her room. During a tense dinner, Ellen had stared daggers at her. Leo had obviously found the whole thing amusing, and paid more attention to Louisa than normal. Their mother almost had apoplexy, so red in the face had she become. Simon had seemed quieter than normal—except whenever his mother overstepped her bounds.

  Louisa had wanted to sink under the table at being the object of so much attention. Yet the sweet way Simon continued to distract his mother in protection of Louisa almost brought tears to her eyes.

  She would definitely be going home after the weekend, for her fragile heart couldn’t bear anymore.

  But her room contained no solace, for it was full of memories of Simon: the night he’d lost his way and she’d brought him inside to comfort him; the nights they’d sat and talked in the dark; and the tender way he’d worshipped her body with his lovemaking.

  And then she heard a tap on the balcony door. Before she could run to lock it against him, he was inside. He said nothing as she stared at him, feeling the swell of desire and the sweet ache of love that suffused her. But she couldn’t give in to these feelings; the consequences could be worse.

  “Simon—”

  “I know you didn’t want me to come.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “Then why are you here?”

  “I came to apologize for my mother’s behavior. Her treatment of you was appalling.”

  “I expected nothing else from her.”

  He lowered his head. “I think she’s trying to make amends by protecting me.”

  Louisa sighed. “Well, she won’t need to worry for long. I’m going to return to London with my sister after the weekend.”

  His head came up and then he went still. “I—does my grandmother know?”

  “I told her I’d be leaving eventually.”

  When he said nothing, she lost the fragile control of her emotions. “Simon, what did you think I’d do? Stay here and fall into bed with you every night? Risk the possibility of a child?”

  He frowned.

  Her voice lowered, grew husky. “Or did you think we’d be able to resist each other, as if our intimacy had never happened?”

  He took a step toward her, reaching for her with that uncanny accuracy he had.

  She ducked away from his hand. “There’s nothing you can say or do to make this situation any better. You have to leave right now, and I have to leave on Monday.”

  “Louisa.” He whispered her name.

  “Just go, Simon,” she said tiredly.

  And after he’d gone, she cried.

  As the guests began to arrive on Friday afternoon, Louisa made herself scarce by conferring with the housekeeper for Lady Wade. But when one of the downstairs maids came to tell her that her family had arrived, she practically ran through the house.

  In the entrance hall, she slowed to a stop, taking in the wonderful sight. Meriel and her husband, Richard, were talking to their little nephew, Stephen. Victoria and David were walking toward Simon.

  “Well look at you!” David said to Simon. “The last time I saw you, you were holed up in a dark room.”

  “It’s still dark, but I’m used to it,” Simon said.

  To Louisa’s surprise, David hugged Simon, then stepped back, clearing his throat in obvious embarrassment. “So, you’re going to visit London again?”

  “I just might,” Simon said with a grin. “Would your wife still want to see me?”

  Victoria Thurlow, Louisa’s sister, gave a laugh. “Always, Lord Wade.”

  “You could call me Simon after all this time.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Simon in London—visiting the house Louisa might be staying at? He’d chased her away from Enfield Manor; now would he chase her from her own sister’s home?

  And when had she become such a coward?

  “Victoria!” Louisa cried out. “Meriel!”

  The three sisters came together in a laughing hug.

  “How was your honeymoon?” Louisa asked Victoria. “I thought you would still be gone.”

  Victoria blushed. “We cut short our trip.”

  Louisa glanced at Meriel, who only grinned and shrugged.

  “Not because of this house party,” Simon said in disbelief. “I would have thought Rome had more appeal than Enfield.”

  “No, a much more personal reason than that,” David said cryptically.

  Louisa stared at Victoria, and for the first time noticed the dark smudges beneath her sister’s eyes. “Are you ill?” she asked, feeling a rising panic.

  Meriel laughed. “You are so blind, Lou.” She winced and glanced at Simon. “She’s with child. And I’m terribly jealous.”

  Louisa gasped and hugged Victoria, rocking her back and forth. When she
released her, Victoria looked even paler than before and put a hand to her stomach.

  “I cannot believe how even the simplest thing affects me,” Victoria said ruefully.

  David put his arm around her. “She’s been dreadfully ill with it.”

  “I’m afraid I quite put a damper on our romantic escape,” Victoria said, blushing as she leaned into her husband.

  Louisa took one of Victoria’s arms, and after shouldering David aside, Meriel took the other. “We’ll need to pamper you,” Louisa said.

  “Aunt Louisa!” Little Stephen rushed up to tug on her skirts.

  Louisa was touched that he would use such an endearment when they’d only met at his uncle’s wedding. She put a hand on his unruly hair. “Yes, Stephen?”

  “We rode on two trains, Aunt Louisa!”

  “You are so lucky!”

  His uncle, Richard, said, “And maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. I never saw a woman need her privacy as much as Victoria did on the brief train ride from London.”

  Victoria shuddered.

  Meriel grinned. “Makes one almost want to avoid a similar fate. And there’s only one way…”

  Richard gave a snort.

  Louisa blushed, hoping her sisters thought her reaction due to ignorance.

  Leo, Georgie, and Paul Reyburn came to see what the commotion was all about.

  After the introductions were made, Leo eyed Richard O’Neill. “It is uncanny how much you look like your brother. My condolences on his passing.”

  “Thank you,” Richard said.

  “He always enjoyed a good game of billiards,” Leo continued. “Can I interest you gentlemen?”

  Simon laughed. “Leo, I’m certain Lord Thurlow would be uninterested. After all, I could still defeat him even blinded.”

  “I think that’s a challenge,” David said.

  The three sisters glanced at each other, shaking their heads.

  “I could guide your hand, Simon,” Leo said. “For a cut of the winnings.”

  “Definitely a challenge,” Richard said. “Do you ladies mind?”

  “By all means,” Meriel said. “You men go find something to do. Stephen, you too! We ladies have lives to catch up on. Louisa, surely you have somewhere private we can talk, like our Willow Pond.”

  Louisa could not help but blush at the thought of willow trees and water. Simon was surely close enough to have heard, but he said nothing, only led the men away.