“It’s not as though I wish to marry a servant!”
“No, My Lady.” Betsey was not offended by this outburst—a marriage between an Earl’s daughter and a servant would create a great scandal. A groom or footman would have no place in her world.
“It would be a good match for me, in fact. Father has no reason to object on those grounds.”
Betsey nodded in agreement, although it was clear that Lady Paulina was talking to herself more than anyone.
“I must consider the best way to broach the subject with him. It will not do to simply tell him that I do not wish to marry the Viscount. You are so clever to have seen that I must convince him about the politics. I think that I shall need to do that first. Thank you, Betsey, I shall think about this.”
Betsey smiled at her mistress. She really did wish her happiness, and so she hoped that this plan would be a success.
* * *
When they arrived at Hillfield estate, the sun was higher in the sky, and the air was comfortably warm. The coachman opened the carriage door and helped Lady Paulina out, with Betsey following behind her.
The Viscount of Somerwich greeted them in the garden and offered Lady Paulina his arm to escort her to the stables. Betsey thought that he looked even more handsome today than he had when he had visited Cublertone estate, but Lady Paulina seemed impervious to his charms.
Betsey observed the interactions between her mistress and the Viscount with interest. Lady Paulina was well-mannered as always, and the Viscount was a perfect host. There was nothing in their conversation to suggest that they did not like one another, but something in their tone—or perhaps their physical actions—suggested that there was no affection between them.
Betsey imagined herself in the position of her mistress. Her mind conjured up the feeling of the Viscount’s strong arm, leading her forward. She imagined being just inches away from him and felt her cheeks begin to flush. She was certain that if she were walking arm in arm with the Viscount, she would not look as downcast as Lady Paulina did.
“We had a hunting party here recently,” the Viscount was telling Lady Paulina.
“Yes, my father attended,” she replied. “He said that it was a successful party.”
“It was, My Lady,” the Viscount said, and then he looked over at Lady Paulina. “The Marquess of Portam was also in attendance, and he told the most fascinating story.”
“Oh?” asked Lady Paulina. Betsey thought that her mistress sounded slightly nervous, and hoped that the Viscount would not notice.
It seemed that he had not, in fact, noticed Lady Paulina’s nerves as he went on to tell a story about when Lady Paulina was a young girl and had apparently challenged the Marquess of Portam to a horse race. According to the story, she had beaten him handily, and offered to teach him how to ride when the race was done.
The Viscount seemed to find this story funny, but Lady Paulina was obviously mortified. Betsey could read the emotion in her face as clearly as if it were written on a page right in front of her, but she knew Lady Paulina so well, and she hoped that it would be less obvious to the Viscount, who was a relative stranger.
“My Lord,” Lady Paulina said, in a voice that sounded somewhat harsh, though Betsey knew that Lady Paulina was merely working hard to remain calm. “I am sorry that you had to hear such a story about me. I am afraid that I was a precocious child and did not know my place. I can assure you that I would never do or say such a thing now.”
“There is no need to apologize, My Lady!” the Viscount said, sounding taken aback.
Betsey was also surprised by the story, and Lady Paulina’s reaction to it. The incident itself had happened before Betsey arrived at Cublertone’s estate, so perhaps she did not fully understand its significance, but it sounded like a minor infraction, and an understandable one for a young lady who had lost her mother not long before.
On the other hand, the Earl of Cublertone had always insisted on proper etiquette and decorum in his household. Betsey felt sure that if he had heard about this incident at the time, whether or not the Marquess of Portam had been offended by her behavior, Lady Paulina’s father would not have been pleased.
“Ah, that is a shame,” the Viscount said, with a sigh, exaggerated for comedic effect.
“My Lord?” Lady Paulina asked, sounding confused.
“I had hoped that you might challenge me to a race today, and that, perhaps if you won, you might offer to teach me how to ride.”
Lady Paulina paused for a moment, seeming unsure of what to say or do in response to this. Finally, she forced a polite laugh and said nothing. A look of disappointment flitted briefly across the Viscount’s face, but it was gone in an instant.
The Viscount continued to lead Lady Paulina to the stables in silence, Betsey following behind at a short distance. When they arrived at the stable they found a groom saddling a handsome chestnut stallion.
“Good day, My Lord,” the groom said upon seeing them, “and My Lady. I’ve saddled Pepper for you, My Lord.”
“Thank you, Jameson.”
“And for My Lady, Bonnie is saddled and ready.” Jameson gestured toward a dark brown mare, smaller than the Viscount’s stallion, but still impressively tall.
Lady Paulina walked over to the horse that Jameson had indicated and held out her hand for Bonnie to smell. The horse sniffed Lady Paulina’s hand briefly, and then lowered its head, letting Lady Paulina stroke its mane.
“Bonnie seems to like you, My Lady!” the Viscount said, pleasantly.
Lady Paulina gave the Viscount a brief smile. “I like her too, My Lord.”
The Viscount smiled at Lady Paulina, but Betsey thought that he still looked a bit disappointed.
“Jameson!” he called, “Please saddle a horse for Lady Paulina’s maid as well.”
Then, turning to Betsey, he said, “Do you have much experience riding?”
Betsey was surprised to be addressed directly by the Viscount, and looked quickly at her mistress. Would Lady Paulina be upset that the Viscount was speaking to her maid? She would not be jealous, as she had no interest in the Viscount, but this was a breach of etiquette that might be shocking to her.
To Betsey’s relief, Lady Paulina was still stroking her horse’s mane, and talking to it softly. She did not appear to notice that her suitor was talking to her maid merely feet away from her.
“I am not as accomplished as Lady Paulina, My Lord,” Betsey said modestly, keeping her gaze focused on the ground, “But I am a competent rider.”
“I see,” the Viscount replied. His tone was casual, but Betsey thought that she could feel his eyes lingering on her for a second longer than was really necessary.
“Jameson!” he continued, turning away from her, “Please saddle Lucky for Lady Paulina’s maid.”
“Yes, My Lord,” Jameson said, and then turning to Betsey, “Right this way, Miss.”
Betsey followed the groom to the opposite end of the stable and watched as he saddled a dappled gray gelding, smaller than Bonnie and Pepper, but with a sturdy look. Lucky was docile and quiet while Jameson adjusted the saddle and tack.
Betsey had told the Viscount of Somerwich that she was a competent rider. It was true that she was not as accomplished at riding as Lady Paulina, but that was merely a product of opportunity. Betsey had a natural affinity for horses, who always seemed to like her.
She had been riding her father’s cart horse since she was a little girl, mostly around the village to run errands for her mother or father. In truth, she had always volunteered for those errands that required riding, simply because she loved it.
Since gaining her position at Cublertone’s estate, she had gone out riding in the grounds from time to time to accompany Lady Paulina. Betsey had not ridden the best horses in the Earl’s stables, but even the oldest and slowest of them had been faster and stronger than her father’s horse.
Betsey had loved riding with Lady Paulina so much that she often suggested it on days when Lady Paul
ina had no particular plans. She felt certain that if she had access to horses like these since she was a little girl she could have ridden as well as her mistress, or perhaps even better.
So, when Betsey approached Lucky, she felt confident and excited. She reached out a hand and allowed the gelding to smell it before stroking his mane. Lucky sniffed her hand briefly and lowered his head, allowing Betsey to pet him.
“Thank you, Mr. Jameson,” she said politely.
“You’re welcome, Miss,” Jameson said, before walking off to attend to some of his other charges.
“Hello, Lucky,” Betsey said to the horse, as she continued to stroke its mane. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I hope that you and I shall be good friends.”
She smiled at Lucky as he nuzzled her hand. “I see you are not a talkative one. That is all right, I am sure we shall get along just fine,” Betsey said, laughing to herself briefly. As she pulled herself up into the saddle, she heard a chuckle from behind her.
Turning to look, Betsey saw Lady Paulina and the Viscount of Somerwich sitting astride their mounts, side by side. The Viscount was laughing at her talking to a horse. Betsey felt momentarily embarrassed, but she could see from the Viscount’s face that he did not find her talk foolish. If she had not known any better, she might have thought he was charmed by it.
Betsey smiled self-consciously, and looked away from the aristocrats. They made a handsome couple sitting next to each other on a pair of handsome horses. Betsey almost felt it was a shame that Lady Paulina felt no romantic feelings for the Viscount.
Betsey cared little for the Earl’s political aspirations, but she did care for Lady Paulina’s happiness, and she could not help but care for the Viscount of Somerwich’s happiness as well. If Lady Paulina could manage to convince her father to allow her to marry for love, then the Viscount would be disappointed, possibly even heartbroken. If Lady Paulina could not convince her father, then she and the Viscount would end up in a loveless marriage that was unlikely to make either of them happy.
Betsey reflected on all of this as she rode through the grounds of the Hillfield estate. She stayed dutifully several feet behind Lady Paulina and the Viscount, so that she never lost sight of them, but could not overhear their conversation. Though I doubt there would be much to hear. As far as Betsey could tell, Lady Paulina and the Viscount barely spoke to one another during their ride.
* * *
“The Marquess of Portam did not exaggerate, I see,” Michael said.
“What do you mean, My Lord?” Lady Paulina asked.
“Oh,” he responded, sounding unsure of himself, “Just that you really are a very good rider.”
“Oh, um, thank you, My Lord.”
Lady Paulina continued to ride in silence. Michael had been trying to make conversation for a quarter of an hour and having little success. Lady Paulina provided polite, but short answers. Perhaps it would be easier if we just rode in silence.
Michael chose to follow this path, and continued to ride in silence. It was a fine day, and the grounds at Hillfield estate were beautiful. Michael often rode through them alone, enjoying the beauty around him, and contemplating any number of subjects in silence. After a few moments he decided to pretend that he was alone today, and once he did, he enjoyed the ride much more.
Michael did not know what to make of Lady Paulina. It was as though she was going out of her way to hide the best parts of herself. When he had complimented her riding skills she had seemed surprised and embarrassed, but there could be no question that she was a good rider, and she must know that.
Still, false modesty, and being overly reserved, were hardly reasons to refuse marriage to a beautiful, well-mannered, and socially well-connected lady. Michael would have a difficult time convincing his parents that Lady Paulina would not make an ideal wife.
Perhaps if they were married, their life together would be something like this ride through the grounds. They would make a handsome pair, travelling through the world, side by side, but in truth they would each be alone. I suppose that is better than making each other miserable, as so many couples do.
Chapter 5
The following morning, Betsey ate breakfast in the kitchen with her brother and the rest of the household staff. Her brother, Simon, sat next to her at the scrubbed wooden table. He took a few quick bites of his porridge before turning to speak to his sister.
“How was your visit to the Hillfield estate yesterday?” he asked, earnestly.
Betsey thought about her words carefully before answering. She knew that anything she said to her brother would likely be repeated to the Earl. She would not share Lady Paulina’s hesitations about marrying the Viscount, but neither did she wish to offer false hope. In the end, she decided that it would be best to say as little as possible about Lady Paulina and the Viscount.
“It was very pleasant,” she said, simply.
“And how did you find the Viscount?”
Betsey was surprised by this question, as well as confused. The Viscount was an aristocratic gentleman, and she was a lady’s maid. What does it matter how I found him?
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Oh, I just wondered if he acted entirely as he should, that is all.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. How would you expect him to act?”
“Well…” Simon said, lowering his voice and leaning in conspiratorially, “You know that I was at Hillfield’s estate recently with the Earl for a hunting party.”
“Yes, what does that have to do with this?”
“I got to speak with some of the servants when I was there, and let us just say, there have been some scandals there in the last several years.”
“Scandals involving the Viscount?”
“All I know is that there have been several pretty young maids and kitchen girls who were compelled to leave their positions quite suddenly, and no one seems to know where they went.”
“But I take it you have a guess as to why they left?” Betsey asked, keeping her voice calm. She knew perfectly well what Simon was implying, but she wanted him to say it explicitly.
“Yes, dear sister, I do, and I imagine you do as well,” he said, in the patient voice one uses to explain something simple to a small child. “The girls fell pregnant, and could not find husbands. So the question is, who got them into such a state?”
“Well…” Betsey said hesitantly, “I suppose it could be anyone, couldn’t it?”
“I suppose,” Simon said skeptically. “But any decent fellow would marry the girl if he could, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes, I should hope so,” Betsey replied.
“But, in these cases, no husband materialized, so why would that be?”
“I’m sure I have no idea,” Betsey said. “But I suppose you’re about to tell me.”
“Most likely it is because he is not free to marry.”
“Because he is already married, you mean?”
“Perhaps,” Simon agreed. “Or perhaps he is not married, but is expected to marry a wealthy heiress, and not a chamber maid.”
“You think it might be the Viscount?” Betsey asked, feeling genuinely shocked at the idea. She knew that this sort of thing happened—it was only a matter of time before the Earl had his way with one of the serving girls at Cublertone. But it was hard to imagine the Viscount of Somerwich engaging in such behavior. He always seemed a perfect gentleman.
“It is a possibility I had considered,” Simon agreed.
“Truthfully, I cannot imagine that being the case,” Betsey said, and then added hastily, “Although I suppose I do not know the Viscount very well.”
“Well, of course you do not know him well,” Simon replied. “But you did spend the day with him yesterday. Were you alone with him, even for a moment? Did he say or do anything that made you feel uncomfortable at all?”
“No,” Betsey said, her voice firm. “We were never alone together, and he barely spoke to me at all. He was
perfectly polite to Lady Paulina, and that is all that I know.”
“Hmm…” Simon sighed. It seemed that he was still skeptical about the Viscount’s moral compass. “Well, I am glad to hear that nothing untoward happened during your visit, but I am still not convinced that the Viscount is entirely blameless.”
“Will you say something about this to the Earl?”
“The Earl?” Simon asked, sounding nonplussed. “Why would I say anything to the Earl about this?”
“Perhaps the Earl would not want Lady Paulina to marry a gentleman who is accused of fornication.”
“Oh, Betsey, you are so sweet,” Simon said.
The Viscount Who Seduced Her (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 4
