Capturing the Viscount's Heart

by Abby Ayles

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2019 by Abby Ayles

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Capturing the Viscount’s Heart

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Epilogue

  The Extended Epilogue

  A Message from Abby

  Get Abby’s Exclusive Material

  About Abby Ayles

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Also by Abby Ayles

  Capturing the Viscount’s Heart

  Chapter 1

  Lendenbarrow, 1811

  “I am soon to leave for school,” Elias said as he exhaled deeply and flopped upon the stone bench beside her. It was soon Michaelmas, the return to school for both of them. Lessons for her would continue at home on Sutton Street with Master Davies, while Elias would leave for Cambridge to begin his studies.

  “Already? How droll,” Helena whined. “With you gone, I will have no one to talk to.”

  “You have your sister.”

  She sighed once more. “The only thing Beatrice ever wants to speak of is a husband. What one should look for? What he should look like? Whom she would like and, of course, how much he should earn. All very boring.”

  She kicked at the earth beneath her feet, the green grass now somewhat browned due to the delayed rains that usually kept Lendenbarrow lush year-round. Unusual weather. She hated unusual weather.

  Helena hated anything that obstructed her fun and the abysmal heat was forcing her to sit when she wanted to run. Her mother wouldn’t hear of her doing something as unladylike as perspiring.

  “Don’t you want to marry?” Elias chuckled. “I thought all women wanted to marry.”

  “I am not yet a woman,” Helena protested. “And if becoming one means I have to lose all sense and can only think of marriage then I would rather not become one.” She huffed and folded her arms over her chest. “Why do you insist on vexing me?”

  “You make it so easy,” he teased as he took a hand to her chin and turned her face to him. “You must really learn to control your emotions. I was just asking a simple question. It shouldn’t unsettle you so.”

  His brown eyes were so serene. Nothing ever seemed to shake him. Elias always had a way of calming her, no matter how upset she may be. She felt the tension ease from her limbs, and her arms slowly unfolded and settled in her lap.

  “I know I am to marry one day. It’s the greatest thing a woman can achieve, a good marriage. But I do not know that I want to marry just anyone for that purpose.” Helena frowned as she looked at him. A small flutter rose and fell in her stomach.

  “I know I am a girl of only fourteen, and I know nothing of love or marriage, but I do believe that it should be for more than just the right connections or for the sake of a title. Don’t you?”

  The stillness in his gaze wavered as his eyes fluttered rapidly. He looked away from her, and Helena was curious as to the reason. He was always so sure. Why did he not seem so now?

  “Elias?”

  “Yes,” he replied gently as he turned his gaze to her once more. “That is the ideal marriage, one based on love and mutual respect, but that is not always the case. I have to marry,” he stated.

  “As the future Earl of Wismoth, I have to ensure the continuation of the family line. It’s what’s expected. Though I would like my marriage to be for love, I must resign myself to the fact that such a love may not be in my future. I have to do what is best.”

  She groaned. She hated when he spoke of expectation and convention. What about feelings and heart? Were they not good enough to be considered and spoken of?

  Helena was more often partial to the inclinations of her heart than the conventions of society, a fact that she was repeatedly reminded was not to be done. Elias was one of her constant reminders when he was home, and her mother and older sister took responsibility in his absence.

  Helena looked at him sternly. “If you intend to sit beside me and only speak of responsibility, I shall leave you to do so alone,” she warned. She meant it.

  If Elias was only going to go on about what was expected and not enjoy the moments they had before his departure for the university, she would leave him to it. He could see what boring things he could get himself into without her.

  He smiled at her and chuckled. “You have such spirit for one so small.”

  “I am not small. I may be younger than you by four years, but that does not make me small. You have the advantage of age to aid in your height. When I am older, I will be much taller, and elegant,” she assured.

  “No doubt,” Elias agreed. “In the meantime, you are little.”

  She frowned. Helena didn’t want to be little or to marry for the sake of position. She had very little say in either.

  “I suppose if one had to marry, someone with a title would be the most logical. Even more so if he had wealth in his purse and an inclination to spend it,” she mused. “Let’s not speak of this further for I want to enjoy these last days. There is no telling when you will be back.”

  Helena had no older brother. In many ways, Elias had filled that role for most of her life as their fathers were old schoolmates at Oxford.

  Elias’s father because he was titled and needed the requisite education to prepare him for his role. Helena’s father because his father was a man of means who sought to educate his children to the best of his ability. They remained friends since that day, and their respective families had become quite close.

  Helena couldn’t help but study his features. Elias had changed so much during this last year. Yes, he had grown taller, that was to be expected, but now he also had longer sideburns. His dark brown hair was more neatly arranged over his forehead than before.

  His face was fuller, manlier than the boy he had been. Even his straight nose seemed altered.

  If Helena didn’t know better, she would’ve sworn that every inch of him had undergone some form of transformation. It was these changes that filled her with strange emotions. He had always been dear to her, but now there was something else, something she wasn’t sure of and couldn’t put a name to.

  She only knew it caused her stomach to flop about inside her whenever he appeared.

  “Why do you look so perplexed? Are you feeling unwell?” Elias interrupted her thoughts.
>
  “I’m perfectly well, thank you. I was just considering what Hettie will make for tea today.”

  “You always think of your stomach.”

  “If I did not, who would?”

  Elias laughed heartily. “I shall miss your ridiculous musings.”

  “I shall miss you as well,” she sighed and threw her arms about his neck. “You have no idea how much.”

  She could feel the tremble of his gentle laughter as he patted her back soothingly. “I shall not be gone long. A few more years and I will return permanently.”

  “It is still too long,” she complained. “What shall I do without you?”

  “What you have always done. We repeated this scene every time I returned to boarding school.”

  “And we will keep repeating it until you no longer need to go anywhere.”

  “Now I must say, be good. Study hard. Listen to your mother and father and learn to control your emotions. Say your prayers, be fair and honest, and we will see each other again soon.”

  She squeezed him tighter. Why did this farewell, though early, seem different from the others? It felt as if he wasn’t going to come back.

  “Here you two are,” Lord Wismoth, Elias’s father, declared as he emerged atop the small rise in the field that separated them from the house.

  Elias released her immediately. “Was there some need, Father?”

  “None, I was simply desirous of telling the two most affected parties my great news.”

  “News?” Helena replied with a glint in her eyes. “What news?”

  “The news of a ball at Balwell Manor.”

  “Here?” she and Elias chorused, though her response was more in glee than questioning.

  “Whatever for?” Elias continued.

  “To celebrate. My son is going to university, wherewith God’s providence, he shall return a highly educated man. I believe it cause enough for celebration.”

  “Indeed,” Helena agreed as she resisted the temptation to clap her hands like a child. Elias had scolded her on that habit on his last visit.

  “I have four years yet,” Elias chuckled. “Your celebration is premature.”

  “Never!” exclaimed Helena. “We all know you will earn your degree. If Lord Wismoth wishes to celebrate now, who are you to tell him otherwise?”

  Her words amused her titled host. Since she was a child, two months of her year were spent at Balwell Manor, the seat of the Earl of Wismoth, and the most beautiful estate Helena had ever seen. Nestled amongst six miles round of grounds, a newly remodelled house, a lake for fishing, and a lovely grove of trees to hide away in.

  It was Helena’s dream home. It was nothing like their house on Sutton Street, which had no grounds and no lake, and most definitely no trees, only a pleasant view of the square from the parlor window. When the sun was just right in the evening, she could see the tops of the trees from some nearby green place too far for her to go on her own.

  “Have you found them, Walter?” her father’s voice called as soon as his greying head appeared upon the mound.

  “Indeed I have, and I have informed them of the glad news.”

  Her father’s expression faltered but he soon set it right. “You mean your idea for a ball?”

  “Not an idea, Ambrose. There shall be a ball at Balwell Manor within a fortnight,” he assured. “We shall celebrate, and when my son returns, we shall celebrate the more, and when he finally completes his course of study, we shall really have a feast.”

  Helena loved the sound of every word that was issuing from Lord Wismoth’s mouth. A reason to celebrate? Something other than talking about marriage? A chance to dance! Her heart trembled at the prospect.

  “Father, I do not wish a ball,” said Elias. “I simply wish to enjoy my remaining days here in peace.”

  “You will have many years of peace here, my son, but it is at this time in a man’s life that he comes to appreciate the opportunity to dance and rejoice in the successes of his children.” He sighed. “Your mother and I had wished for more children, but the Lord thought you enough.”

  Helena remained silent as Lord Wismoth spoke but she was in complete agreement. Elias was a son that most envied. He was well-mannered, intelligent and well-spoken, not to mention handsome. Her sister often commented on his looks. Helena would never tell him, but Beatrice had long wished his attention would shift from one sister to the other.

  Helena was glad that had never happened. Who would she have turned to then for her amusement? Who could tolerate her so well if not Elias?

  “You should be inside,” her father chided. “What are you about out of doors all day? Have you no studies to be about?”

  “No, Father. I did all of my required reading already.”

  “I would not have permitted her to shirk her education, sir,” Elias affirmed. “Seeing Helena on the way to become a woman of dignity is important to me.”

  “Is it now?” Lord Wismoth questioned.

  “Indeed. She is like my own sister. Wouldn’t a brother wish for his sister to become a woman of grace and respectability?”

  “I’m glad one of you is concerned with this,” Helena’s father replied as he gave her a sharp look. She quickly averted her eyes.

  “Come, I think tea is ready,” she quickly suggested to change the subject.

  “Tea?” Elias questioned with a smirk. He knew her devices too well.

  She folded her hands demurely at her waist. “Yes, tea.”

  Chapter 2

  Lendenbarrow, 1815

  “Where is she?” Elias laughed as he strode into the parlor at Balwell Manor. Mrs. Ruskin, the housekeeper, followed him.

  “Miss Helena is about,” she mused.

  Four years had passed since he was last home, four years of intense study to make him ready to take his place in his father’s business, and one day to fill his shoes. They were large shoes to fill.

  However, in all that time, his one consolation was Helena. The first year he was unable to return home, she wrote him through tears. He knew by the smudged ink on the page that made her letter almost completely illegible.

  The next year was better. After that, she took to writing him often, and he wrote her back. Her letters were often filled with news of her accomplishments, the annoying ways of her sister, and the new dresses her father had bought for her during the seasons.

  In the last year or so, the form of her letters had changed, matured, though he didn’t expect that the girl who wrote them had done much of that.

  She had always been explicitly against being conformed to the norms, and she was defiant enough to rebel against it for all eternity as she promised. He liked to think of her silly promises. They always made him laugh, no matter the difficulty he was facing.

  He expected Helena to appear from behind a chair and bound towards him, but she wasn’t there. Her mother, Mary Leeson, was, however.

  “Mrs. Leeson,” he stated in surprise as his eyes fell upon her. Elias quickly altered his manner with the appearance of the older woman and bowed in greeting. Helena’s mother was a kind woman, cheerful in disposition, and peaceable. She was the gentleness to her husband’s austerity.

  She smiled upon seeing him. It seemed the old injury that plagued her had worsened, as she was only able to bend her knee slightly in curtsey. She crossed the room to embrace him maternally.

  Mary Leeson had been a girl of nineteen when she fell from her horse and was crushed beneath the weight of the beast. It left her with a slight limp and limited mobility in her right leg.

  “You look the part of the Viscount of Chatleton,” she said as she smiled at him warmly. “The boy who left Balwell is long gone, though it is good to see the man he has become. Your mother would be so proud.”

  Her words stirred in his breast. Elias’ mother, Susan, Lady Wismoth, passed away when he was twelve. Though his father had done his best in raising him, it was Mrs. Leeson who had taken on the role no man could fill in his life. His father had never remarri
ed. The Earl’s heart was forever attached to the wife he had lost and no other could ever replace her in his mind.

  “It’s been too long,” Elias answered.