Wounds of A Viscount: (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book)

by Deborah Wilson

  Livid, he’d begun to wonder if it was all game. Perhaps, there was no danger. Maybe Nora was simply in love with a servant. Perhaps, that was what had put the distance between her and Lord Thinbrook. Had the man at Thinbrook’s door been the same man who’d stood outside her window days ago?

  It was all possible and if Nora didn’t wish for the scandal to reach the ears of the ton, then it all made sense.

  Nora stared at him with a mixture of fear and anger. “How close were you? What did you hear?”

  “I heard nothing, but I saw enough. You lied to me.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked in confusion. “I never lied to you.”

  “You’re not in danger.” He wanted to throw something else, to make her understand just how angry he was. He suppressed a growl and just stopped his fist from connecting with the wall. Destroying Kent’s home would do him no good, especially since Lucy had taken so much time putting it together. It had been a wreck before Kent married. He’d almost demolished every room in fits of rage, but he’d managed to hold most of it back since falling in love.

  “You’re in love with a servant. It is why your brother is upset with you.”

  Nora leaned away and put a hand on her chest. “That isn’t true. What are you talking about?”

  He chuckled bitterly, unable to believe the sort of fool he’d been before now. As he stared at Nora, he wondered if he ever knew her at all. He wasn’t upset that she loved a servant. He hated that she’d dragged everyone into her game. He’d believed in her character. She’d been his guiding light through the darkness, but now, he had nothing.

  That hurt more than anything.

  Why had she lied? Why the game?

  It didn’t matter.

  “It is not what you think,” she said. “Though I can’t see why any of that would matter to you.”

  Neither could he anymore. “I’m leaving.”

  “Good.” She finally removed her cloak and hung it. She didn’t look at him as she spoke. “And perhaps you will learn to knock by tomorrow morning.”

  She would not see him tomorrow morning. He was leaving Kent’s home. Clive could stay if he wished. Garrick would explain what he saw and leave it up to Clive to make his own choice, but he was done.

  He left and slammed the door, this time with purpose.

  * * *

  Nora stared at the door and then moved to undress. Her fingers shook no matter how much she told them not to. Garrick had accused her of having an affair. She didn’t know why that upset her so much, especially since she’d been certain of where he’d gone tonight. She hadn’t expected him to return so early from the brothel.

  He took protecting her very seriously.

  Why had he followed her? She’d already told him that she had to handle this herself. He was just as determined to find out her secrets as she was to keep them hidden. She’d started the silly game of hide and seek. She hadn’t done enough to make Meri pay for what he’d done, to stop him from doing it again.

  And now he was courting someone. Nora planned to find out who she was and warn the woman away immediately.

  There was a knock at her door.

  She doubted Garrick had learned manners in such a short amount of time. “Come in.” And even knowing it wasn’t Garrick, she was still disappointed at the sight of a maid. “Lord Fawley wishes to see you in the parlor.”

  Garrick had told on her once again.

  Nora supposed it was good that her hands were shaking far too much to undress completely. She refastened the buttons on her black gown— the one she’d worn to blend into the shadows— and then left the room.

  She noticed a trunk in the hall outside of Garrick’s door and stopped walking as she took in what it meant. He hadn’t only meant to leave her room. He was leaving the house, leaving her and Miriam.

  Well, that was fine with Nora. She didn’t need him about. He made her emotionally restless and any further attachment to him would only lead to heartache.

  She went to the parlor and was actually glad to see that Clive was alone.

  He sat by the fireplace. His arms were crossed. One knee was thrown over the other. His expression was stern, but his scowl didn’t last long. It never did. Of all the men, the Marquess of Fawley seemed to possess a naturally pleasant nature. “Am I going to be forced to ensure you two play nicely with one another?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You and Garrick. Why would he believe you were having an affair?”

  Nora moved farther into the room and sat on the ornate couch across from him. “You mean, you don’t assume the same? You believe me innocent of an affair?”

  “I know you are innocent of an affair.” He grinned.

  “How is that?” She was slightly intrigued by the inappropriate conversation. She was also surprised that Clive would take her side.

  His eyes filled with excitement. Evidently, he was pleased she’d asked and anxious to respond. “Nora, I know what a pleasured woman looks like, as does Garrick, and if he took the time to move past his jealousy, he would see the same.”

  She wanted to ask what a pleasured woman looked like but knew that would be going too far. So, instead, she said, “Garrick is not jealous.” Why would he be?

  “But isn’t he?” Clive dropped one knee and leaned forward. “He’s very protective of you, Nora. He all but rallied the troops when he discovered you were in danger. You are in danger, aren’t you?”

  Nora didn’t remind Clive that her business was her own. She didn’t shout, neither did she ignore him. Instead, she stared into his eyes and said, “I don’t know, but I believe someone else is.” And she would find out just who had her brother’s interest and save her, protect her as she hadn’t saved Lettie.

  Clive grew serious. “Is it Miriam?”

  She shook her head. Her breathing grew troubled once more and she looked away, staring at her spread hands on her thighs. “I don’t know.”

  “Nora, did anyone ever tell you my story?”

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  2 6

  * * *

  Nora looked up at Clive. “Your story?”

  “The reason I am a Lost Lord. The reason people thought I had run away instead of being kidnapped.”

  Nora understood then. The Lost Lords all had a story, a reason Society would have exiled them if they hadn’t disappeared on their own. Kent’s temper had been unbearable. James had been known to cause trouble just for the pleasure of it. Marley had gotten a lady with child and hadn’t married her. Garrick was unable to engage in social conversations. Andreas had made that easier for him in the past year, however.

  And then there was Clive.

  “You were accused of stealing something,” she said.

  He lifted a brow. “Would you like to know a secret?”

  Nora found herself growing more intrigued by the minute. When she’d come down earlier, she’d been sure that the conversation would be one greatly disagreeable with her, but she found it impossible not to enjoy herself.

  He smiled softly. “It’s true. I did steal something, but if I admit it then there will be more questions asked, and I’d have to implicate someone else in the crime.”

  Nora was amazed. The other lords had always said Clive was innocent, yet he’d just told her the opposite.

  Clive was the only blond of the group, so handsome that he all but glowed. His hair was fashionable in soft curls and the combination of his soft blue eyes and his hardened jaw made him a wonder to look at. He held a celestial beauty.

  With all that, it didn’t surprise her at all that the ton was undecided on what he had and hadn’t done.

  “What did you steal?” She had to know.

  He sighed. His expression was far away as he turned to the fire. “I stole a jeweled hairpin.” He turned his head and smiled fondly. “Took it right off a woman’s head at a party.”

  Nora was speechless. “You stole a hairpin? Why? Did you need the money?”

  He gr
unted. “Oh, yes, I was in need of money, but foolishly, I didn’t steal it for my own happiness. I stole it for another lady.”

  She frowned. “Was she in need of money?”

  “No, only the hairpin. Never mind that it was hideous. But that doesn’t matter anymore. I’m a thief to many. Others still question whether it happened.” He shrugged.

  Yet Nora now knew the truth. “Did the hairpin find its way to the true owner?”

  “It has not.” He shook his head. “But there is a reason I’ve told you the truth, Nora.”

  She suspected she knew why. The conversation was now heading toward a place she didn’t wish to go. “Why did you tell me the truth?”

  “Because, besides knowing what a pleasured woman looks like, I also know what a guilty woman looks like.”

  Nora lowered her gaze.

  “I won’t judge you,” he said. “Neither will Garrick once he calms down.”

  She shook her head. “It’s my fault.”

  Clive said nothing.

  She looked at him. “I must deal with him on my own.”

  “Him? Well, there’s a start.” She’d just revealed that her problem was a man.

  She pressed her lips together and stood. “Thank you for… this meeting.”

  He stood and bowed. Once he was straight again, he said, “I will remain as long as you need me.”

  “So, Garrick is leaving?”

  “He’s already left. His footman is taking his things home.”

  Nora turned toward the door so that Clive would not see how saddened she was by the news. She had no right to feel abandoned, yet she did. He’d left her. She’d asked him to. She hadn’t trusted the truth with him.

  Thinking about how much he’d believed in her before this night... she was hurt by what she’d said to him. She supposed he hadn’t been unreasonable to assume her having an affair.

  But why did he care? Was he just jealous as Clive claimed?

  If it were so then there was no apologizing about it now. Garrick was gone. She thought to write him, but then thought against doing so. What would be the point? They’d become friends once more? Grow close? And then what?

  She did need to kiss him in order to get her gun back and with someone staring at her window, there was more reason to have it. She owned a woman’s pistol, but it was entirely useless unless one simply wished to scare someone away. One prayed the bullet would hit the target. They were not known for their accuracy.

  But a double-barrel pistol was different. Her father had owned one. One almost always hit whatever they took a shot at if they had time to aim.

  At the door, Clive’s voice stopped her.

  “Nora, if I am to stay and protect you then there can be no more slipping away into the night, not while Kent and the others are depending on me to keep you safe.”

  She looked at him and then nodded. For the moment, her concentration would be on finding out who her brother fancied. That, along with warning the woman away from her death, could be done during the day.

  It was only when Nora returned to her room and saw the missive that she remembered she’d be seeing Garrick sooner rather than later. She’d be seeing him tomorrow. Ebba’s father’s dinner was tomorrow, and Nora knew she’d fail to get her gun back. She didn’t even want to go, but when she thought of Miriam and her brother’s fondness for blondes... She needed the pistol just in case.

  And since she’d just promised Clive she wouldn’t sneak away at night again, the only one available to her at the moment was the one in Ebba’s possession.

  Perhaps, she should have been kinder to Garrick after all.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  2 7

  * * *

  She’d arrived early. Garrick stood as Nora walked into his Aunt Emma’s receiving room and was surprised that she’d accepted Ebba’s invitation at all.

  Their eyes caught and no matter how much Garrick tried to fight it, he could not stop his gaze from drinking her in.

  Borrowing a term from George… Huzzah! Her dress was the color of the cream filling in the middle of a cake, and Garrick wanted to do nothing more than devour her, eat her inch by inch. He would start at her toes and move up her dainty ankles, legs, and thighs.

  He clenched his jaw and watched her color. His thoughts were plainly visible, but how could they not go where they’d gone when she wore that gown? Framing and emphasizing her every curve, it was the finest thing he’d ever seen on her. Usually, Nora tried to blend into the walls, but she stood out now, presenting herself like a delicious treat.

  Did she not know just how vulnerable she made herself in that gown? She was in danger of being thoroughly ravished by any man who glanced at her for too long.

  She’d always been beautiful. The fact went untested by those who took a moment to look at her.

  Garrick had come with Andreas to tell his family not to try and play matchmaker later that evening. Garrick knew Aunt Emma and Uncle Alex well. They were in love. They loved love. They wanted everyone to be in love.

  It was a wonderful sight to see, their love, yet their efforts to make Garrick a married man only made him wish to run far, far away.

  His cousin Ebba had been elsewhere during their discussion, but she suddenly appeared at the door with Nora and pulled the lady into a tight embrace. “Nora. I’m so glad you could come.” Ebba smiled as she continued to hold her as though they were old friends. Garrick hadn’t known they were so familiar with one another.

  Though when Nora looked away, she looked slightly confused, or at least he thought that had been her expression just before a bright smile covered her lips. “Thank you for inviting me, Lady Ebba.”

  “Nora, please call all me Ebba. How many times must I tell you?” His cousin laughed. Then she turned to her parents. “Mama, Papa, this is Lady Honora Baxter, daughter of the Earl of Thinbrook. Nora, Lord and Lady Paxen.”

  Nora curtsied. The curl by her temple swept past her cheek and then retreated as she straightened.

  “Lady Honora.” Lord Alexander Blanc stepped forward and took Nora’s hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you. Ebba has never mentioned you before and clearly, you are acquainted with my nephew. Otherwise, Ebba would have introduced you.” Uncle Alex looked over at Garrick with a broad smile that made Garrick suddenly nervous. What was the man thinking? “How long have you known each other?”

  “Not long,” Nora whispered. “A few years.”

  “Ah.” Uncle Alex chuckled.

  Why was he so amused?

  “I hate to intrude,” Nora went on. “I only arrived so that I might speak to Ebba.”

  Aunt Emma stepped forward. “Oh, you don’t have to be so formal, Lady Honora. You and Ebba are clearly friends. You must sit with us.” She looped her arm through Nora’s and started for the couch. “I wish to know everything about you.”

  Garrick couldn’t remember the last time his aunt had cared to know anything about anyone but her husband. He couldn’t count the many times he’d walked into a room to find them in a heated embrace. His aunt likely knew just how many teeth were in her husband’s mouth and Garrick was sure she hadn’t used her fingers to do the counting.

  It had been that way since he was a boy and never would either his aunt or uncle let him forget that it had been Garrick’s father, Buford, who’d introduced them.

  Ebba followed Nora to the couch. Since the women were all together, Uncle Alex came to sit by Garrick. His uncle winked at him before he turned toward the other couch. What did that mean?

  “Lady Baxter,” Aunt Emma began. “I don’t believe I ever met your father.”

  “He died years ago,” Nora responded. “My brother holds the title now.”

  The questions went on. Garrick tried to concentrate, but he became entirely distracted when he saw that his uncle was looking at him.

  “What?” Garrick asked.

  “Nothing.” Uncle Alex had learned to speak with him long ago. Aunt Emma was less proficient. She depended on her husband to tran
slate everything for her and since the two were together most days, it worked. “But I saw the way you looked at her as she came in.”

  “Who?”

  “N-O-R-A,” his uncle spelled. He didn’t know the sign for Nora’s name and Garrick wasn’t sure he wanted his uncle knowing it. “You love her.” Uncle Alex’s eyes glittered.

  “No,” Garrick spoke firmly and far louder than he wished.

  The women looked over.

  “What’s the matter?” Aunt Emma said.

  “Nothing,” her husband responded as he turned toward the women. “What have I missed?”

  Nora looked nervous. Her eyes found Garrick, and he was puzzled by what they tried to communicate. She looked regretful. Did she wish she hadn’t come? Garrick couldn’t blame her. If she had any clue what his uncle was thinking, she would run before the first course was served.

  Dinner was still hours away, so there was still time for her to fake a headache. But would she? She’d come here for a reason. He was certain of it. He simply didn’t know why.

  He looked down at Uncle Alex’s hands when he realized the man was signing, even as he listened to whatever his wife was saying.

  “She is beautiful. You should marry her.”

  Garrick shot out and covered his uncle’s hands, but it was too late.

  Nora’s eyes widened in shock. She’d read his uncle’s hands.

  Lord Paxen stiffened and then turned to Garrick. “She can understand you?” He looked amazed and excited.

  Garrick simply widened his eyes and sent him a glare in warning. There were times when Uncle Alex refused to act in a manner that was appropriate for his age and rank and repeatedly Garrick was forced to deal with him like an annoying cousin.

  Uncle Alex laughed.

  Nora turned to Ebba. “May I speak with you for a moment?”

  “Of course.” Ebba stood and turned to everyone else in the room. “If you would excuse us.” Like her mother had done earlier, Ebba grabbed Nora’s arm as she led her away.

  Nora didn’t look back, but her hand cupped the back of her neck as though aware that his gaze followed her.