The Proud Viscount

by Laura Matthews

  “Out for a breath of air?” he asked.

  “Yes. Even the summer parlor gets stuffy in this kind of heat.”

  “I thought your sister was expected this morning.”

  “She is. I still have hopes that they are merely late. Certain people always manage to be delayed by an endless stream of interruptions. Have you ever noticed that?”

  “I suppose so. Would you care to ride for a while?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t when they might arrive at any moment.” Jane cocked her head toward the drive and smiled with relief. “I believe I hear a carriage now.”

  “Perfect timing,” he murmured. “You must get over this alarm about Ascot, you know. He’s reasonably well-behaved and wouldn’t give your mare the least fright.”

  “Another time, perhaps,” she replied as she hastened toward the carriage drive. “I should be there to welcome them.”

  Jane rounded the corner of the house in time to see the Parnham carriage rolling up the willow avenue. The fact that it was a new carriage made her bite her lip. How extravagant the man was! They had a perfectly adequate carriage for the small amount of travel about the district that they undertook. Jane shrugged off her annoyance as the coachman drew the team to a halt directly in front of the portico.

  Hardly able to wait for a footman to open the door and let down the steps, Nancy waved excitedly to her sister from within. She was handed down with a dignity that did not match her own hurried enthusiasm. “Oh, it’s so good to see you, Jane! It’s entirely my fault that we’re late, so you must forgive me. And will you look at the baby? He’s grown so much since you’ve seen him, you’ll hardly recognize him.”

  The nursemaid, a girl of perhaps sixteen, sat with the sleepy baby in her lap. John Parnham had climbed down after his wife. He didn’t turn to observe the baby, as everyone else was doing, but spoke to his father-in-law as the latter came down the front stairs. “Your grandson is going to be a bruising rider, Lord Barlow. You can tell it already.”

  The earl smiled. “He’ll certainly have every encouragement, I’m sure. How do you do, John?”

  “Very well, sir. I can see you’re in remarkable health, yourself. What do you think of the new carriage?”

  Lord Barlow made the required comments on the design and appearance of the landau, though Jane had noticed that it was made up, in the royal style, with rear seating for two carriage footmen. Surely a great pretension for the Parnham family, whose fortunes had been running a little low when Nancy’s dowry provided a welcome infusion. Again Jane shrugged off her annoyance. She was not going to let such a small matter spoil her chance to have an enjoyable visit with her sister.

  Rossmere had moved around the house at a leisurely pace and now joined the group on the gravel drive. John Parnham acknowledged the meeting with an elegant bow, his wife with a charming curtsy. Jane found the contrast between the two men quite striking.

  Parnham was the more handsome, by current standards. He had blond hair cut in the Brutus style, and eyes of a neutral shade of brown. His features were classical, but in a different way than Rossmere’s. The viscount’s nose, chin, and cheekbones were aggressive while Parnham’s were softer, smoothed out like those of a statue weathered over the years. Nancy’s husband never dressed in anything less than the latest style; Rossmere’s clothing had the mark of country tailoring, good quality but less than the height of fashion.

  John Parnham was an affable man. From the beginning of his acquaintance with the family at Willow End, he had put himself out to charm them. His countenance was open and his speech unreserved. If he tended to be extravagant in his expenditures, well, it cost a pretty penny to be fashionable these days and it was important to him to be fashionable. He had once, at Jane’s slight frown, teased her by saying, “You wouldn’t want your sister married into a shabby establishment, now would you?” It did seem to Jane, though, that there must be more pressing matters than a new carriage that laid claim to his pocketbook.

  Rossmere was another type of man altogether. He made an effort to be civil, but no attempt to win the affections of those around him. His reserve was almost chilling, and his pride gave him a faintly superior air. And he was stubborn, Jane added mentally. Another contrast with the accommodating John Parnham.

  Parnham was the first to claim prior knowledge. “We met years ago,” he said, regarding the viscount with an amiable smile. “Perhaps you will have forgotten. It’s been a long time.”

  “I haven’t forgotten,” Rossmere admitted without a matching enthusiasm. “I had no idea you were from this part of the country.”

  “Only recently. Fire destroyed the family estate a few years back and it gave me the opportunity to search out a more congenial area. I was fortunate indeed to settle so close to Willow End.”

  “Weren’t you?” Rossmere allowed his gaze to rest on Nancy, the youngest of the Reedness children. She was considerably shorter than her sister, and plump. This might have been the effect of having recently carried a child, but the viscount thought not. She had the general carriage of a normally plump girl. It surprised Rossmere that such a fashionable blade as Parnham would ally himself with a dumpling of a female. As often as not, the blades considered girls of her appearance quite beneath their notice.

  And yet Nancy was a lovely woman. Her creamy complexion and warm eyes combined to make her look fresh with the promise of a spring morning. Not innocent precisely, but Rossmere guessed that hers was a trusting nature, confiding, candid. Her husband’s energetic camaraderie seemed almost gauche when set next to Nancy’s subdued charm. The viscount watched as Jane and Nancy linked arms and climbed the stairs to the house, with the nursemaid trailing behind.

  “Of course, most people would have rebuilt in Yorkshire,” Parnham continued. “I tried to be a bit more farsighted than that. What was the sense of putting up a modern structure when elsewhere I could purchase something with a bit of history to it? And the weather is so foul in Yorkshire. Always dismal. Since I was the last of the family, I had the chance to please only myself with where I settled. Sussex is such fine country, and so close to London.”

  “Indeed. Do you go there often?” Rossmere asked.

  Parnham flipped a negligent hand outward. “Occasionally. On business, you understand. It’s convenient being able to conduct matters for myself rather than having to employ an agent. I’ve even been of use to Lord Barlow once or twice.

  The earl nodded acknowledgment. "I don’t like going to London these days if I can help it,” he confessed to Rossmere. “Entirely too crowded there. The only thing that draws me at all is the Elgin Marbles.”

  Rossmere thought Parnham winked at him at this point in the conversation. Really, unless the man had gotten a speck of dirt in his eye, he had actually had the effrontery to offer a conspiratorial wink to a man he scarcely knew! Making fun of the old man’s passion for broken statues, was what he was about. Though Rossmere cherished some sentiments on the same order, he was annoyed by Parnham’s behavior, for no reason that he could quite put a finger on. Perhaps he simply didn’t like Parnham, something that had occurred to him within minutes of meeting the young jackanapes again.

  “I never see you there anymore,” Parnham mentioned. Because he had lost the thread of their discussion, Rossmere had to think a moment before replying. “I haven't been to London in two years."

  “Lost your taste for it, have you?”

  The question, so lightly asked, seemed to Rossmere to contain a barb. The viscount very much feared it had either to do with women (and with Mrs. Madeline Fulton in particular) or to do with his own lack of financial resources (and being unable to afford the expensive capital). In either case, Parnham had only managed to raise his hackles higher. Rossmere chose not to answer the question.

  Parnham didn’t appear to notice. He spoke of his new carriage and the likelihood of a spectacular harvest. After Parnham’s wink, Rossmere was surprised to see the fellow actually pull a book about antiquities from his pocket and hand
it to Lord Barlow. “I understand Thorson touches on some interesting elements of the baths,” he said, sounding almost knowledgeable. “Thought you might like to see it.”

  “I was about to send for it!” the earl exclaimed. “Good of you to go to the trouble, Parnham. Very good indeed.”

  The young dandy obviously knew how to please his father-in-law, Rossmere decided. He tried, for a moment, to believe that it really was good of Parnham to go to the bother of searching out the right book for the older man. But it struck him more as toadying and he dismissed Parnham as an apple-polisher. Rossmere felt sure no one would find him trying to win the earl’s approval by such means if he were married to one of Barlow’s daughters.

  Irritated beyond reason, Rossmere dropped a little behind the other two men, hoping it would not be necessary for him to spend the whole day with John Parnham.

  * * * *

  In the sitting room off Jane’s bedroom Nancy had the nursemaid put the child down on a blanket. The corner room caught a good cross-breeze and stayed relatively cool in the warm weather. Nancy dismissed the girl, sending her down to the kitchen for a glass of lemonade and saying she would send for her when she needed her. Then she turned to Jane with a smile.

  “I was so afraid something would arise to prevent our coming. How I would have hated not seeing you! It’s been too long.” She gave her sister a hug and seated herself in a chair beside little William. “The baby’s beginning to creep now. See how he gets on his hands and knees and rocks like that? I think it’s the most amusing thing.”

  Jane seated herself on the floor beside her nephew.

  “What a clever lad he is. Do you think he has John’s nose?”

  “Absolutely. And his hair and his eyes. I think perhaps he’ll have John’s disposition, too. He’s very cheerful and ready to try a new adventure at the drop of a pin.”

  The baby gurgled and rocked so hard that he tumbled over on the blanket. He looked surprised and his little mouth puckered up in preparation for a wail of protest, but Jane distracted him with her pocket watch. His eyes shone with interest and he reached for the swinging gold timepiece. When he had it safely in hand, he carried it to his mouth to taste.

  “No, no,” Jane protested. “This one is only for looking at. Have you something he can gum?”

  Nancy withdrew a crust from her pocket. “I always carry something with me. John says I’ve begun to shed bread crumbs.” She handed the crust to William, saying, “Tell me about Lord Rossmere. Has he been good company for you?”

  Jane laughed. “Aunt Mabel is scheming to marry us off. It was her sole intent in inviting him here, I gather. But neither of us is interested.”

  “How ungallant of him to let you know that!”

  “Oh, he didn’t precisely say it, but it is very clear. Mabel believes he needs a rich wife, and she seems to think I’ll be a miserable spinster one day if I pass up this opportunity.”

  “And don’t you think you will?”

  “No, dear, I don’t. Can you imagine me miserable?”

  “No, but I can picture you happily married. I just don’t know that Lord Rossmere is the man for you. He seems rather stiff and uncompromising.”

  “Hmmm. Perhaps. It’s hard to tell. You should see him on Ascot."

  “He brought the horse?” Nancy asked in disbelief.

  “It doesn’t seem to have occurred to him that it would disturb anyone."

  “Men live in the most blinkered world, don’t they? John thinks nothing of disappearing for days on end without telling me where he’s going, and he’s offended if I ask him where he’s been on his return. How very uninterested they must think women are in what goes on about them in the world.”

  This was the first time Nancy had confided any such behavior to her sister. Jane didn’t want to frighten off any further confidences by making too much of it. She was distressed to hear such a tale, but she remained calm. “That is indeed too bad of him. But let me tell you what happened in the village yesterday.” Jane proceeded to tell her about Mrs. Fulton, taking Rossmere to task for leaving the incident unresolved.

  Her sister frowned. “A redheaded woman? Quite slender and beautiful? Yes, I’ve seen her there. She doesn’t seem like someone who would live secluded in Lockley, does she?”

  “Certainly not! And the worst of it was that I’m quite sure Rossmere has had some connection with her. She spoke so familiarly to him. Actually,” she admitted, her eyes twinkling, “his discomfort was just the least bit amusing, because he’s so stuffy sometimes.”

  “You mean you think she was his mistress?” Nancy asked, her eyes wide with astonishment.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. He was quite the metropolitan gentleman, I’m told, before his father brought on their ruin.”

  “He’s a good-looking man, in a rugged sort of way. I remember once when he visited Richard, and I was perhaps fifteen. I had quite a tendre for him. Naturally he didn’t notice me at all. To him I was a child.”

  “He has a way of treating women like children, I think. There’s a polite distance, a tolerance for the less advantaged, about the way he speaks with me. And though he’s very respectful to Aunt Mabel, he treats her much the same way.”

  “Hmm. Men must think women have a lesser intelligence when really it is only the disparity in education. Sometimes John’s attitude forces me to expedients that I deplore. I would far rather deal honestly with him than try to maneuver him into doing what I want.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t follow you,” said Jane, fearing very much that she did.

  “I shall give you an instance. John didn’t really wish to come for this visit. I was fearful that he would cancel it at the last moment, but I knew how much he likes to earn Papa’s good esteem. So I sent off to Guildford for a book on antiquities I’d read of that I thought Papa would particularly enjoy. When it arrived, very fortuitously, yesterday afternoon, I told John that the book he’d suggested getting for Papa had come in time for our visit.”

  “Surely he knew he’d never said any such thing.”

  “Not really. When I ran across the original reference to the book, I read it aloud to him. In situations of that sort it’s never clear who said that it was something Papa would like. And who is going to remember whether we actually determined to purchase it for him?”

  “Good heavens! It sounds a very complicated way to deal with a husband.”

  Nancy shrugged and studied the gold wedding band on her finger. “It wouldn’t be my preferred method, Jane, I assure you. But my opinions don’t seem to hold much weight with him in the ordinary course of things, and I am driven to this subterfuge.”

  “Well, you have only been married a short time,” her sister offered by way of reassurance. “Once he learns what a fine, practical intelligence you possess, I daresay he will make a point of consulting you."

  Nancy said nothing, but dropped her gaze to little William. who was making tentative movements on his hands and knees.

  * * * *

  Later that evening, when Jane was on her way to bed, Lord Rossmere overtook her in the first-floor corridor of the east wing. The candles flickered softly in their sconces on the walls, shedding a little light on the dark hall. Jane was tired and vaguely disturbed. At first she did no more than acknowledge the viscount’s greeting with a nod and a slight smile. As he passed by, a thought occurred to her.

  “Stay a moment,” she called. “There was something I wished to ask you.”

  Only then did she notice that he’d already eased his neckcloth away from his throat so that his shirtpoints hovered ludicrously around his ears. Jane bit her lip to suppress a grin.

  “What was it?” he asked rather brusquely.

  “Did Mr. Parnham bring a book for my father today?”

  “A book? Oh, yes. He had it in his pocket. Something about Lord Barlow’s favorite subject, I believe.”

  “And he indicated that it was his own idea to acquire the book?”

  “I don’t quite und
erstand what you’re getting at, Lady Jane.”

  “Did he say it was from him, or from Nancy, or both of them?”

  A flicker of annoyance appeared in Rossmere’s eyes. “What difference could it possibly make? I don’t remember. Though I’m fairly certain that he said he’d gotten it for your father. There was no mention of your sister.”

  Jane nodded. “Yes. Thank you. I fancied as much. It’s what comes of having very little regard for another’s opinion, you know, this convoluted behavior. Well, good night, Lord Rossmere.”

  He stared at her for a moment, then offered a curt nod and stalked off down the hall.

  Chapter 5

  Lady Jane hated to see her sister leave in the morning, but Parnham was insistent that they had to return to Parnham Hall. The estate had been called Marsden Hall for so many years that the natives found it impossible to adapt to the new nomenclature, but Parnham corrected anyone who reverted to the old name. “After all,” he was fond of saying, “the Marsden line has disappeared, and the Parnham line needs encouragement.”

  When the sparkling carriage was no more than a cloud of dust on the road, Jane wandered over to the willow trees and curled up under one as she had promised herself she would. The dew had burned off the grass and it smelled warmly fragrant. Swaying branches caught the slight breeze and brushed against her lemon jaconet muslin dress. Aunt Mabel would have cautioned her against getting grass stains on it.

  Nancy’s revelations about her marriage had disturbed Jane. It was always more pleasant to think that one’s favorite people were perfectly happy. On the other hand, perhaps her other sister, Margaret, was right that certain adjustments always had to be made when one lived with another person. That sounded very reasonable. And yet Parnham disappeared for days on end without giving any explanation. Now, that was really uncalled for. Nancy was not, after all, a servant in the household, who might be kept in ignorance of the master’s doings.

  Her thoughts were so deeply engrossing that she failed to notice the viscount arrive on the other side of the fall of leafy branches. When she finally looked up, she found him observing her with interest, unmoving, his feet in black boots planted a little distance apart. Jane remained seated. She almost wished she could flutter her hand at him to go away.