The Viscount's Wayward Son: A Regency Romance (Ladies of the North Book 2)

by Isabella Thorne

  “I saw him kiss her,” Edmund admitted, his lip curling in disgust.

  That surprised Alexander. “Did she refuse him?” he asked softly.

  “No,” Edmund admitted miserably.

  “So she accepted him, then?” the duke asked softly. “She truly did?”

  “How could she choose that sap?” Edmund asked between gulps of brandy.

  “Women are sometimes difficult to understand,” the duke agreed. “They see things differently than we do.”

  “She would have to not have eyes to fail to notice that the man is a complete bounder,” Edmund snapped. “Anne is not stupid, a little rash perhaps, but I cannot comprehend why she would agree to marry that man.”

  “Are you sure you did not misunderstand?” Alex said.

  “No. She accepted him,” Edmund said decisively. “I heard the words from her own mouth.” He looked into his cup as if he could find wisdom there. “Then, he kissed her.” He downed the glass of brandy and poured another. He intended to get roaring drunk. Perhaps that would make him forget what he saw.

  “What happened then?”

  “I don’t know,” Edmund said annoyed. “I had seen enough. They left the garden to return to the ballroom, I went the other way.”

  “Back through the parlor?”

  “Eventually.” Edmund nodded miserably, and Alexander poured both of their glasses full and for a while they concentrated solely on emptying the bottles.

  “I cannot lose her, Alex,” Edmund said. “Tell me, how I can win her back.”

  The duke thought for a moment. “I understand your pain,” he said, “Truly I do, but it’s not your choice, Edmund. It’s hers. It is the lady’s prerogative.”

  “It cannot be over,” Edmund wailed. “I haven’t even started…I didn’t even get the chance.” His voice rose in a panic. “I can’t lose to him!”

  “This isn’t about what you want,” Alexander said.

  Edmund glared at his friend, pain and frustration clear in his eyes.

  Alexander continued. “If your care about her, then you must consider the lady’s wishes. You must give her what she wants, if it is at all within your power to give.”

  “What if what she wants is Amberleigh?” Edmund whispered.

  “Then there is not much you can do.”

  “But I have to do something! I love her, Alex.”

  The two sat in suspended silence for a few moments, Edmund in misery and Alexander frowning with understanding.

  “All you can do is put forth your suit and wait upon her sufferance.” He said at last. “You have told her of your love for her?”

  “Anne knows that I love her.” Edmund said miserably. “She doesn’t care. Or she doesn’t love me.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, but the action did nothing to clear his vision.

  The duke refilled the glasses again and the two of them drank in silence for a few minutes. “I must say, I always thought it would be me and Emily, and you and Anne. Ever since we were children, it seemed a foregone conclusion.” He said.

  “Exactly,” Edmund agreed. “I don’t know how or where it went so wrong.”

  “Perhaps it is moot now, but if you had been around more this Season…” Alexander said.

  “I couldn’t. Father kept me busy.”

  “Oh, your father,” Alexander said with a huff. “You have been able to avoid his orders since you were ten. That’s an excuse, Ed, and you know it.”

  “Perhaps,” Edmund said staring into his glass morosely. “But he was right somehow. I will be the viscount one day. I should learn how to be.” Edmund ran a finger around the rim of his glass absently. “Perhaps, I had something to prove to him, or to myself. I don’t know. I thought, if Father would treat me like a man, I could get him to increase my allowance. My stipend is hardly enough to support me much less…” Edmund shook his head and drank.

  “A wife?” Alexander said.

  Edmund nodded.

  “I understand,” Alexander said. “I always tried to please my father, too. It never worked. I would have been better to please myself first.”

  “You were twelve,” Edmund objected, starting to slur his words, “Not almost twenty.”

  “True,” Alexander said pouring a bit more port into his glass.

  “I wasn’t ready,” Edmund said starting to pour more brandy for himself and knocking both cups askew.

  The server hurried to mop up the spill and re-pour drinks. “Nineteen is too young to marry.” Edmund continued.

  “Not for a woman,” Alexander countered.

  “Do you think she thought I had forgotten her? That she would be on the shelf?”

  Alexander shrugged.

  “Lud, surely not.” Edmund slurred. “She is far too beautiful to ever think such a thing. More than that, she is talented and clever and wild.”

  Alexander listened patiently while Edmund waxed on poetic, extolling Anne’s many virtues. “She is the most wonderful woman I know. She had to know I would offer for her-”

  “Did you tell her that, Ed?” Alexander asked. “Did you ask her to wait for you?”

  Edmund blinked slowly. Alexander realized that his friend was drinking brandy, matching his port wine glass for glass. Edmund was deep in his cups.

  “Of course, I did.” Edmund sipped his brandy.

  “When?” Alex persisted.

  Edmund was silent for a long moment, remembering his childhood promise to Anne at the bridge. “Before she went to finishing school,” he said at last.

  “When you were twelve?” the duke asked.

  Edmund nodded.

  Alexander chuckled. “Perhaps you should renew that proposal,” he suggested.

  Yes, Edmund decided, he would do so, just as soon as the world was no longer fuzzy about the edges. He prayed it was not already too late.

  16

  Edmund’s head exploded, fell off and rolled under the settee. He sat up much too quickly and his stomach threatened to precede him on to the floor. A quick glance at the duke showed him in no better state and His Grace’s expression promised death to whomever made that infernal racket. Then, as one, their eyes turned to Emily who was preparing to strike the serving tray a second time.

  “For the sake of our mutual happiness,” the duke said in a desperate whisper, “I beg you not to recreate that painful sound.”

  “This is a fine state, the both of you.” Emily admonished. “Edmund, you slept on the sofa in your muddy boots. I don’t know if it can ever be cleaned!”

  “I am sorry, sister,” he apologized shamefacedly.

  “It won’t be the first time for muddy boots in this house, nor the last,” the duke said. He rose slightly in his chair and appeared to give up on the attempt. He slumped back down wordless and brought a hand gingerly to his head. Emily’s attentions, however seemed to be fixed on her brother, although those attentions were not gentle. She swept his feet off of the sofa and onto the floor, and the spin caused the room to turn in the counter direction.

  Edmund moaned and rubbed his throbbing temples as Emily swept open the heavy draperies, which had darkened the room, letting in the midday sunlight.

  The duke made a herculean effort to sit upright and succeeded for the most part, although he blinked rather excessively resembling a startled owl. It was clear, sunlight was the enemy. Edmund covered his face with his hands, blocking out the offending beams.

  “When did you get in?” the duke asked Emily.

  “Only a short while ago. I did expect you to be awake. It is past noon.”

  Emily looked askance at the dried mud at the end of the sofa, patting at it ineffectually with a handkerchief. She gave up on the effort, choosing instead to lay the dainty cloth over the worst of the offense. She wrinkled her nose as she looked at her husband, or rather when she caught the rather sour wine scent. “You smell like a winery,” she told him as she noted the port stains on the front of his lawn shirt. “And Jervis may never get this out.” She ran a finger down his ches
t and paused noting the rolled up sleeves of his shirt. “And where are your cufflinks?”

  With some happiness he pulled the cufflinks from his waistcoat pocket and showed them to her.

  Emily just shook her head.

  “I will go and wash. And change my shirt,” Alexander said, as Emily sat, perched on the edge of the sofa with a gentle look of distaste for the both of them.

  Once Alexander had left the room, Emily turned to her brother. “Did it help?” she asked.

  “What?” He was still having trouble focusing.

  “Getting foxed?”

  “For a while,” Edmund said, “But now the trouble is coming back to me.” He rubbed a hand over his aching head.

  “That is generally the way of things,” Emily agreed moving from the sofa to a settee of her own. She straightened her skirts.

  Edmund wondered how they could be siblings and be so different. Emily was always in control of things. For her, it seemed so effortless. For Edmund, life just spun out of control, and for the most part, he was reduced to chasing after what he wanted in a most haphazard way. He wanted the sort of self-control that his sister had, but it seemed not to be in him. Now, he had lost Anne because of his own inability to act, or perhaps because of his foolish actions. He wasn’t sure which.

  “Anne was quite surprised that you left without so much as saying goodbye,” Emily said. “I had to assure her that you were well and not hiding some sudden malady.”

  “I no longer felt welcomed,” Edmund confessed.

  The night’s drunkenness had lifted the fresh sting of Anne’s betrothal for a time, but now in the light of day the pain of losing her returned tenfold, along with a splitting headache. “I am sure that Amberleigh was able to console her.” The words sounded bitter even to him, and Edmund flinched, biting back whatever else he had to say at the sharp look Emily gave him.

  “And what does that mean?” Emily asked hotly, not about to let the matter rest.

  “Anne is betrothed to…that…that man.” Edmund spat. He attempted to hold back the ire that had built in him, but he found the words tumbled out. “Amberleigh will only lead her to misery and pain. He cannot possibly make her happy, not like…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Not like I could.”

  “You?” Emily echoed in surprise.

  “Yes!” Edmund said. “I know that you consider yourself her best friend, although I once thought I held that honor. Best friend and perhaps more.” Edmund got up shakily, pacing about the room despite the way his head made the corners seem to slip away and spin. He felt caged by his own inability to fix this mess. “Please, you can dissuade her, Em. You must, for her sake as well as mine.”

  “I don’t see how I can-”

  “I helped you once,” Edmund interrupted with a desperate plea. “I helped you and Alexander, and now…” He paused to order his thoughts. “Now, I am asking you to help me, Em. Please.”

  “Edmund, if you felt this way, you should have made your feelings known long before now. Since when have you made a single declaration or overture to Anne other than fond reminiscences of childhood? When was the first, last, or any attempt to woo her or win her heart?”

  “I declared my intentions towards her years ago. She was in love with me for years. She was mine, Em. For all our lives Anne was mine.” Edmund said, waving a hand in exasperation. “Then this Amberleigh comes along. He’s the worst sort of man. I hate him. I had the prior claim.” Edmund thumped himself in the chest. He turned towards his sister. “She cannot marry him. You have to stop her, Emily. You are her friend.”

  “I am her friend.” Emily thought for a moment and then asked, “Edmund, is this about loving Anne, or is it about besting Amberleigh?”

  “What?” Edmund’s mind was still foggy with the effects of last night’s libation. He was not sure he heard his sister right.

  Emily persisted, her voice calm at first, but rising in volume as she continued. “Are you more concerned with keeping Anne as your exclusive property, than you are with loving her as a woman? Is she a prize to you? Something to be won for besting Amberleigh, or any other rival for her affections?” Emily crossed her arms decisively. “Has my brother become that sort of a man?” Edmund could see that Emily was angry now.

  “No, Em. I-”

  “You claim this Amberleigh is an egotist, but imagine, dear brother, what sort of ego is involved with someone who assumes that he is so irresistible that a young lady will pine herself into spinsterhood for want of his attention. I assure you that Anne is a proud woman. She has no patience for such cruel and childish games.”

  Edmund looked at his feet. He supposed he did deserve that. Anne did accuse him of playing games with her heart. He sighed and sat heavily next to his sister. He put his head in his hands. Lud. Had he really acted that way? He was a cad.

  “I suppose there is some truth to that,” he agreed. “I do admit to finding a certain pleasure in being able to fend off other suitors last Season, and reassert my…well, my relationship with her. I just assumed she was mine.”

  Edmund yelped as his sister swatted him sharply on the back of his hung-over head.

  “Blast it Em! That is not the case now, is it?” he exclaimed in pain. “I never meant to treat her poorly. She …she feels as though she is a part of me. If I have been remiss in telling her of my deep affection for her, it is only because I do not compliment my right arm for its function or take grateful note for each individual beat my heart makes.”

  “And like an appendage, you took her for granted,” Emily said knowingly.

  “I guess I did. But I tell you, Em, I could not survive without Anne any more than I could survive without the heart in my chest.” He sighed and added softly, “She is my heart.”

  “A woman is not an appendage to a man,” Emily said. “And a heart without care will wither and die.”

  Edmund groaned and rubbed his temples. “I see that now.” He looked hopefully at his sister. He needed her help. “Anne is the most amazing woman I know, Emily. Every moment I remember about her is suddenly painted in a different light. I like how she makes me feel. I like who I am when I am with her. Without her, I am lost. Why did it take Amberleigh for me to realize that?”

  “It’s amazing the clarity that jealousy can bring,” Emily stated dryly. She smiled at her brother and Edmund chuckled softly remembering her trouble with Alexander. Perhaps he and his sister had something in common after all.

  “Why couldn’t I have seen it before?” Edmund moaned. “Back when I had a chance? When she could have been mine. Not to own,” he amended quickly, guarding his aching head from any further assault. “Just… Just to have.”

  “To have and to hold?” Emily questioned.

  “Yes,” Edmund groaned. “But I am an utter fool. I know I have allowed this to happen. I am undone and only have myself to blame.”

  “You are a fool, Edmund,” Emily chided her brother. “You should not, however, feel obligated to remain a fool. You must find your mettle. Or you will lose her forever. There is still time for you to change the outcome of this drama.” She offered wry smile. “After all, the banns have not yet been announced.”

  Edmund looked up from the floor and into his sister’s face. Her eyes were twinkling at him as if there was still hope. He shook his head thinking of Anne’s words to Amberleigh and their kiss. Despair filled him. “I am afraid there is naught I can do to change this now,” he said.

  Emily sucked in a deep breath and shook her head at his obtuseness. “You must tell Anne of your feelings for her, Edmund. Let her know how important she is to you. Tell her what you’ve just told me. Well, perhaps not everything,” Emily corrected. “Anne would not appreciate your doltish idea of one-upmanship with Amberleigh, but now that you are aware of your feelings, you must make Anne aware of them as well.”

  Edmund sat back heavily. “She does not feel the same, Em.”

  “How can you know that?” Emily demanded.

  “Because she has ac
cepted that bounder’s proposal. She has agreed to wed another. If Anne felt for me, but a fraction of what I feel for her, she would not…could not do such a thing. Not without her heart breaking into a thousand small shards as mine does now. How could anyone feel this and then wed someone else? It is not possible to endure such pain. No, Em. She cannot love me, not as I love her.”

  “Nevertheless, you must tell her the truth. You must be honest with her about your feelings, and allow her to do the same.” Emily laid a delicate hand over Edmund’s, squeezing his fingers as she had done so many times when her brother needed encouragement.

  “And if she does not reciprocate my affections?” Edmund asked. “If she dismisses me? If she should choose Amberleigh despite my confession? If she loves…” Edmund swallowed hard. He could barely speak the words. “If she loves him? More than she loves me?”

  “Then your heart will break,” Emily said softly. “I cannot lie to you, brother. It will hurt, most terribly. You will kiss Anne goodbye, and you will watch her marry another. You will toast the happy couple on their wedding day with a smile on your face that you may never feel. But you will be comforted by the fact that Anne is happy, and while that will not mend the rent in your heart, it will ease the pain somewhat. That is the mark of true love; above all, we want to see those we love happy.”

  The duke, freshly changed, stood at the doorway and watched the last of the conversation unfold. “You must risk your heart, my friend. Such is the price of love,” He exchanged a private look with his wife. “But the reward is well worth the risk.”

  17

  To Anne it seemed like she could never get so much as a moment to herself. Her mother called in a seamstress and Anne had been in fittings all morning. Now when she had a little time in the afternoon, to enjoy alone or in the company of her sister Eliza, she was told she had a caller in the front parlor.

  Anne had been so put out she forgot to ask who the caller was. The poor serving girl seemed intimidated and flustered. She curtseyed quickly at Anne’s annoyance, only saying that, the gentleman was most insistent. Anne huffed. That meant the man was likely Amberleigh. He seemed staunchly set in his opinions on practically every topic. His confident persistence had an effect upon the maids, well young ladies in general. Or even older ones if Anne were honest with herself.