The Viscount's Kiss (22 page)

She drew in a ragged breath, then spoke to her son again with that unexpected resolve. “You must promise me, though, Justinian, that you'll be even more careful, because you'll be responsible for your wife as well as yourself.”

“You have my word that I'll protect Nell with my life,” he vowed.

“And I shall do the same for him,” Nell added, equally sincere.

The countess embraced her, and Bromwell's heart swelled not just with joy because he was going to get to spend the rest
of his life married to Nell, but because his mother had come 'round—if not completely, at least to acceptance.

“My dear, surely you cannot countenance such a union!” her husband protested. “She is nothing, a nobody—worse than nobody, if her father—”

The countess whirled around to face her husband. “She is the woman your son loves—the son you've belittled and derided even after his great success.”

She walked up to her husband and poked him in the chest as she spoke. “You care more about your precious estate, this house and your blasted garden than you ever have for us. I've put up with that, and you, for thirty years for the sake of our marriage and our son, because I was afraid of gossip and scandal. But no more, Frederic. If you don't accept this marriage, I shall leave you and reveal certain details of your life that will cause a scandal such as you have never even imagined!”

The earl blanched, but haughtily demanded, “What
details?
”

“There are certain books—illegal books—you keep hidden in the library, books of such a lewd nature, you should be ashamed to even touch them!”

Bromwell glanced at Nell, who raised a brow, wondering if this was the reading material he'd been referring to that wasn't of a classical or scientific nature. His answering rueful grin told her that it was.

“You…you…know about…?” the earl spluttered, his face as red as his scarlet waistcoat.

“I believe, my love, that we should retire from this family gathering and await the butler's summons to supper elsewhere,” Drury said, taking his wife's hand and leading her, somewhat unwillingly, from the room.

“What sort of books are they talking about?” Juliette whispered as she gained the hall.

“I'll explain when we're alone,” Drury murmured as he closed the door behind them.

B
y the time the door had closed, the earl had managed to recover some of his composure. “My dear wife, no doubt you're overwrought, a condition not unexpected given the startling and shocking events of the day. I'm sure upon further reflection, you'll see that I'm quite right to oppose a marriage that can only humiliate our son and cause him difficulties in the future.”

“You certainly ought to be an expert on humiliating our son,” his wife retorted. “You've been doing it for years, and heaven only knows how he might have turned out if not for
my
love and comfort.”

“For which I'm exceedingly grateful,” Bromwell interjected, hoping to end this distressing confrontation. “And
if you truly wish to leave Father, Mother, I won't question your decision.”

How could he, when her unhappiness, anger and resentment must have been building for years? “However, with regard to his reaction to my marriage and the withdrawal of his financial support, you may set yourself at ease. Nothing he says or does will deter me from marrying Nell, and I'm sure we'll be able to sail with or without his help.”

In spite of that determination, he regarded his father with genuine, heartfelt sorrow. “I wish it could be otherwise, Father. I was happy and proud when you offered me the money without conditions, and enjoyed our journey back to Granshire when we talked like friends. I would that we could continue in such a way. But I won't give up Nell because of your fears of what society will say, any more than I gave up going on my first expedition because you thought it the height of lunacy.

“The choice is yours, Father. Accept my wife or not as you will, but we
shall
marry and we
will
sail.”

Whatever Bromwell had expected his father to do, it wasn't to walk slowly up to his wife and look at her with genuine distress. “You would really do that, Susanna? You would really leave me?”

“I would,” she said, her voice wavering a little. “You should be proud of our son and happy that he's found a woman who loves him and isn't after his money, or his title. How many young women do we know would refuse him because she thought it was best for
him?”

The earl looked from his wife to his son and the woman standing anxiously beside him as if he'd never really seen Nell before. “I do want you to be happy, Justinian.”

He turned back to his wife. “I didn't realize how much
I was distressing you, Susanna. I will accept Justinian's choice, and if he wants to sail off to some godforsaken…” He reined in his temper. “Whatever he wants to do, he'll have my full support, both in good wishes and funds.”

“I'll stay. Oh, Frederic, I'll stay!” the countess cried, pulling him into her arms. “Although you must also get rid of those books.”

“Anything for you, my dear,” he replied, kissing her fervently.

Nell grabbed Bromwell's arm and pulled him toward the door. “I think we should leave them alone for a little while.”

Fallingbrook, as stunned as Bromwell, was standing in the doorway. “Dinner is served,” he whispered as Nell closed the door behind them.

“Tell the cook dinner will have to be delayed a little while,” Nell told him. “You'll find us in the garden.”

“Congratulate me, Fallingbrook!” Justinian said merrily. “I'm getting married.”

“Are you indeed, my lord?” the butler murmured absently, his gaze still on the closed door of the drawing room. “When might we meet the fortunate bride?”

 

The night of the Earl of Granshire's hunt ball, Granshire Hall was ablaze with light from nearly a thousand candles. Music from the orchestra drifted from the ballroom into the rest of the house, and outside, several carriages lined the drive. Coachmen, footmen and linkboys clustered in small groups, occasionally quaffing mugs of mulled wine and ale brought to them from the kitchen.

Inside the manor, finely dressed men and women milled about, awaiting the start of the dancing. Torches had also been lit in the garden, and the night was warm enough that
a few couples drifted to the terrace for a breath of fresh air or more intimate conversation.

Inside, near one of the French doors leading to the terrace, a group of three couples watched as the earl, his wife, his son and his son's fiancée greeted the arriving guests.

Lady Francesca Smythe-Medway wore an evening gown of pale pink taffeta, the bodice trimmed with lace as was the hem, and she had diamonds in her ears and around her throat. Standing beside Fanny and dressed in deep blue satin with tight sleeves and sapphire earrings set in silver was Diana the wife of Viscount Adderley. Next to her was Juliette, in a fashionable concoction of Nile green that she had made herself, the bodice embroidered with golden leaves. Their husbands were much more plainly attired in black formal evening dress, but even so, they were the object of many admiring glances from other women, as their wives were the object of many men's.

All of whom they ignored.

The Honorable Brixton Smythe-Medway, whose straw-colored hair defied the efforts of comb, brush and valet to lie flat, declared, “I've never seen Buggy looking so…so…”

His brow furrowed, Brix turned to his wife with a pleading look. “What's the word I'm looking for?”

“Happy?” Fanny proposed.

“Heroic?” Diana supplied, her eyes twinkling.

“Triumphant?” suggested Edmond, Viscount Adderley.

“Successful in life and in love,” Drury said in a tone that implied the matter was settled.

“You're all right,” Brix replied with a grin. “Good ol' Buggy. I always knew he'd find the right woman someday. I just never expected it would be in a mail coach.”

“I daresay neither did he,” Edmond said. “Which goes
to show we never know where we'll be when Cupid aims his arrow.”

“Don't go all poetic on us,” Brix warned. “I'm glad the earl has seen the light at last about Bromwell's abilities, and his mother's looking very pleased.”

“Who could not be pleased with Nell?” Juliette asked. “She's a lovely girl. And see how she looks at Buggy!
That
is love.”

“See how every other young woman here is looking at him,” Brix said, waggling his brows. “Egad, he was popular before but he looks a very Adonis now. It's a good thing Miss Springley snatched him up when she had the chance.”

His wife swatted Brix lightly with her fan. “I wouldn't be speaking of missed opportunities, if I were you,” she warned.

Brix rubbed his arm as if she'd hurt him and put on an aggrieved face. “Yes, but I made no claim to being observant. How could I, when I couldn't see the rose right under my nose?”

His wife smiled and stroked his arm with her fan.

“My dears, I tell you, it's really true,” a woman noted in an excited whisper as a gaggle of women passed by, her voice audible as the orchestra took a short break to get out new music. “Not of the first rank, or indeed, any rank at all. And her father—”

As one, Bromwell's friends turned to look at the speaker with varying degrees of scorn. The woman flushed and fell silent, then moved swiftly away, trailed by her equally silent companions.

“So it begins,” Edmond noted with a sigh.

They all looked serious for a moment, for each had been the subject of rumor, gossip and speculation.

“I find it fascinating that the faces of gossips possess
the same bovine aspect,” Brix said, doing a very passable imitation of Buggy at his most studious. “It is easy, if one has a creative cast of mind, to imagine them as cows standing in a field chewing their cud.”

The tension eased, and they shared a smile.

“Where's Charlie? I thought he'd be here,” Drury said, surveying the ballroom. “Buggy's anxious to talk to him about the ship's provisions.”

“There he is now, waiting at the end of the receiving line like a dutiful officer,” Edmond said, nodding at the tall, commanding figure in the line moving slowly toward the earl and his family. “Even without his uniform, he's every inch the officer, isn't he?”

“I'll sleep better knowing he's in command of Buggy's ship,” Fanny said, earning nods of agreement from her companions.

“He's not the only other late arrival,” Diana noted as a beautiful young woman dressed in the height of fashion in a gown of jonquil silk with ruffles from hem to knee, lace around the bodice and a necklace of garnets, appeared at the entrance to the ballroom. Pearls and more garnets were in her ornately dressed hair. The older gentleman with her, however, was dressed in what would have been appropriate for a ball fifty years ago. “Who is that?”

“The Duke of Wymerton and Lady Eleanor Springford!” Fallingbrook announced.

 

Nell started and Bromwell stared, while his mother smiled and his father cleared his throat.

“Gad, Snouty, how are you? It's been years!” the earl said as he moved toward the older man.

Meanwhile, Lady Eleanor let go of her father's arm
and gracefully approached the countess, who was looking better rested than she had for many months since Bromwell had found out exactly what was in her medicine, which was mostly comprised of caffeine, and put a stop to it.

“I was delighted to receive your invitation,” Lady Eleanor said in a musical voice and with a smile which revealed that even her teeth were lovely. “As well as your letter.”

Nell stared at the countess, and so did her son. “Letter?” Bromwell murmured.

“Yes,” Lady Eleanor said, turning to him. “I understand I've been of great assistance to you both, although I didn't know it.”

Nell wondered if she should say something—anything—or just be quiet and let Bromwell, who looked equally lost, speak.

Lady Eleanor solved her problem for her. “I'm not at all upset that you felt it necessary to use my name. Indeed, when the countess told me of your predicament, I was quite happy to oblige.”

A hint of merriment sparkled in her bright blue eyes as she ran a swift gaze over Bromwell, then addressed Nell. “I can't say I blame you a bit for wanting to accept his invitation, even if it required pretending to be someone else.”

By now, Bromwell's face was scarlet, while Nell was more sorry than ever she'd used Lady Eleanor's name.

The orchestra's leader looked at the earl, who nodded at Bromwell. “It's time.”

“I say, Charlie!” Bromwell called to a tall young man with a regal bearing who was standing near the earl, who was still talking to the duke while his wife looked on.

The younger man skirted the older three and hurried to join them. “Aye aye, sir!” he said, saluting as he came to a halt.

“Lady Eleanor, Miss Springley, this is Charles Grendon, late of His Majesty's Navy and my very good friend. He's going to captain our ship when we go on our expedition.

“Charlie, would you be so good as to engage Lady Eleanor for the first dance? He's a most accomplished dancer,” he assured her.

“I'd be delighted,” Grendon replied with a polite bow.

As grim as if he were about to be executed, Bromwell took Nell's arm. “I wish we didn't have the honor of leading the first dance,” he said as they started forward.

“Smile, my lord,” she whispered. “It's easier than the
upa upa.”

 

“I thought I was going to swoon when Lady Eleanor was announced!” Nell said later that evening as she and Justinian strolled on the terrace.

“I was shocked myself,” he replied. “To think my mother had written to her and told her everything—and she wasn't angry or upset. Indeed, she's a very agreeable young lady. I note Charlie seems quite taken with her.”

“She's very beautiful.”

Bromwell laughed softly. “She's pretty, I suppose, and well dressed in a gown that fits, but…” He took her hands and held them out in front of him so he could survey her in the lovely gown of pale blue silk she wore. “Her beauty is nothing compared to yours.”

Still holding his hands, Nell leaned back against the balustrade. “I fear your mother's a very sly woman in some ways.”

“I suppose she's had to be sometimes, to get around my father. I must say, she seems quite a different woman now that I'm getting married.”

“If we were staying in England, she'd be even happier.”

“No doubt, but she'll have plenty of time to spend with us when we return.”

“And our children, if we are so blessed,” Nell said softly, turning so that her back was to him. “Show me again how the women of Tahiti give birth, without the crouching, of course, or you'll crease your breeches.”

“We can't have that,” he said with a low chuckle as he came close behind and put his arms around her.

With a sigh, she relaxed against him as he ran his hands down her stomach.