Vexing the Viscount (6 page)

“Hmm,” Emily said. “It doesn't take long to know if you're attracted to a man.”

“Go to sleep, Emily. I am not interested in Middleton in any manner, except his well-being.”

“If you say so.”

Tia wandered the house for a while before slipping into a chair in the salon with a book. After a few hours, a footman came to announce dinner. She entered the dining room to see only one place set. “Where are the earl and countess?”

A footman smothered a grin. “They have elected to have dinner sent up to their bedchamber.”

Bedchamber? This was an interesting turn of events. Perhaps Emily had decided to seduce her husband and then inform him of his impending fatherhood. Tia certainly hoped that was the case. After a lonely dinner, she returned to the salon and her book until the earl walked into the room and closed the door behind him.

“Miss Featherstone, I would like a word with you.”

Hearing the commanding tone of his voice, she closed her book without bookmarking the page and then sat up straight. “How can I help you, my lord?”

“My wife informed me that she is with child. Is this true?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“And that is one of the reasons she asked you to stay with her, is it not?”

“Yes, my lord. I am a healer and midwife,” Tia replied.

The earl started to walk the length of the room. “How far along is she?”

Tia kept a sigh from escaping her lips. The man must suspect his wife of carrying another man's child. “I am not certain, my lord. I would say between two and three months.”

“Is it two or three?” he asked roughly.

“It is hard to tell. She is not that far along. I will know more in a few months as the baby grows.”

He turned to face her with his cold blue eyes. “She must have told you how many of her monthlies she'd missed.”

“Yes, she did, my lord. She told me she'd missed two. However, since I don't know if it was unusual for her to miss a monthly as it is for some women, I can't say for certain exactly how far along she is right now.”

He sent her a sardonic grin. “I believe you can, but you are being a good friend to my wife. You might not believe this, but I appreciate that, Miss Featherstone.”

“Why did you allow me to stay with your wife?”

“Because she's had a difficult time adjusting to married life and Society. I thought a friend might help her acclimate. While I don't understand this need to show you off to all the unmarried men in London, if it makes her happy, then I shall allow it.”

“I see.”

“I only have one request, Miss Featherstone.” The earl folded his arms over his chest. “Do not let her near Mr. Tavers.”

“I beg your pardon?”

He laughed. “You mean she didn't tell you who her first lover was?”

A
n entire fortnight had passed with no sign of either Jonathon or Miss Featherstone. It made no sense to Braden that he could not find either one. He hired another Bow Street runner to search for Miss Featherstone, but again it was as if she'd fallen off the earth. Every morning, he rode to a different section of town, hunting for any sign of her. In the evenings, he turned his attention to gaming hells and even a couple of opium dens in his pursuit of Jonathon.

“My lord, a missive has arrived for you.”

Thank God, Braden thought as he retrieved the note from the outstretched arms of his footman. This must be a note about Jonathon. The runner said he was getting closer to finding him. “Is the man waiting for a reply?”

“No, my lord. He left the letter and departed.”

“Thank you,” he said as disappointment filled him. Just scanning his name on the note, he realized this was a woman's script.

Braden scoured the note for a signature or even an initial, but there was nothing to indicate who'd sent the missive. A slow smile lifted his lips. Someone knew where Jonathon was and wanted Braden to find him. And by the handwriting, that someone was a woman. He would have to thank her properly, whoever she was.

He rifled through the papers on his desk until he found the invitation that had arrived earlier in the week. The party was to start at eight. That gave him just enough time to dress and check out a gambling hell before arriving. He strode upstairs to prepare.

One hour later, he had bathed and dressed for a party. He ate a quick bite of dinner to keep him satisfied until he arrived at Lady Whitfield's Grosvenor Square home. As he placed his fork back down on his plate, he heard a commotion at the entryway. Nelson's heavy footsteps quickly followed.

“My lord, the Duke of Northrop is in the salon.”

North was here? He pushed back his chair and headed to the salon. “North? What are you doing here?” Braden shook his head. “Please excuse my manners. Would you like a sherry or brandy?”

“Brandy,” North replied.

Braden poured two snifters and handed one to his friend. “Sit. What is new in the Midlands? Did you finally have enough of the estate and decide to return to town?”

North smiled. “Not quite. I thought my wife should see London.”

Braden's mouth gaped. He'd been gone less than a month! “Your wife?”

“Selina.”

“You married your wise woman?”

“Yes, I did.”

“How? When? Why?”

“You're sputtering, Middleton. A few weeks ago and the
how
was the usual manner by special license. And the
why
is because I love her.” North took a large mouthful of brandy and smiled. “Excellent stuff. I am actually here on a mission.”

Braden shook his head to clear his mind of the bewilderment of his friend falling in love again. He tilted his head with a grin “Oh?”

“Mrs. Featherstone wanted me to inquire if you have found her daughter yet.”

Should he even bother telling North that he let the girl slip away? It would only make him look foolish. “No, not yet. The friend she was staying with had been evicted before Miss Featherstone arrived.”

“And you have no other leads?” North asked with a frown.

“Unfortunately, no.”

“You do know about Miss Featherstone—excuse me, Miss Mia Featherstone.”

Braden nodded. “How is she?”

“Recovering quite well, according to Selina.”

That bit of good news assuaged his guilt for not telling Tia about her sister the day he'd found her. Perhaps if he had, she would have returned to the estate without issue.

“Excellent,” Braden finally remarked.

North finished his brandy and placed the glass on the table next to him. “I won't take up any more of your time. Good luck finding her.”

“How long are you in town for?”

“We're leaving in the morning. Selina felt guilty for leaving Mrs. Featherstone with the work of three estates.”

“I see. Tell Mrs. Featherstone that I haven't given up just yet. I will find her.”

“Thank you.”

As soon as the duke departed, Braden ordered his carriage to be readied. He left the house soon after, feeling frustrated at his inability to find either his brother or his wise woman. With North's arrival, he'd lost too much time to search a gaming hell, so instead he proceeded directly to the party. Hopefully, he would get some good news tonight.

The line to Lady Whitfield's party was far longer than usual for a late-summer fete. Finally able to disembark the carriage, he walked up the steps and a butler opened the door for him.

“Good evening, my lord,” he said, as if recognizing Braden.

“Thank you,” Braden said, removing his hat.

“Fitzworth, my lord. If you need anything while you're here, just let me know.”

“Very well.” How odd. The man was quite odd indeed. Perhaps he treated all the guests in the same manner, but somehow Braden doubted that.

With a shrug, he walked into the salon and searched the room for the woman who might have sent him the note. He had nothing to go on, not even an initial. As a footman paused by him, Braden snatched a glass of brandy and then sipped it slowly. Down the hall, the sounds of music told him the dancing had begun. But he had no interest in dancing. If Jonathon was in attendance, he would be in the gaming room.

Fighting the crush of people, he walked down the corridor and glanced into the ballroom. A flash of red hair caught his attention, but he lost it just as fast. Braden almost laughed at the idea of Miss Featherstone being here. It was absurd indeed.

The gaming room was set up in the library. He entered the room but once more Jonathon was not here. At least, not yet. Braden decided to sit and play a few games. Perhaps in time, Jonathon would arrive.

“Middleton, I'd heard you were back in London.”

Braden stifled the urge to roll his eyes as his cousin Alistair sat down next to him. “Tavers,” he said with a nod before turning his gaze back to his cards.

“What brings you back to town?”

“Just a little business to clean—I mean, clear up. How are my cousins?”

“Constance has been full of herself since marrying the baron a few weeks ago. Louisa is heading for the shelf. At two and twenty and four seasons out, she seems destined to spinsterhood.”

“Well, that is a shame. Between the both of them Louisa was the kinder of the two.”

“There is nothing wrong with marrying your cousin, you know. She would make a wonderful viscountess. Unless you have your sights on someone else?”

“Perhaps I do. After all, I must keep the family name intact, do I not?”

“Yes,” Alistair said with a cough. “You must at that. If you need an extra footman or maid while in town, please let me know. I'm quite sure we could do without for however long you are in town. How long might that be?”

“I'm quite well suited with the servants, thank you. And I haven't decided how long I shall be in town. It depends on the business to which I must attend.” Why was Alistair so curious about his affairs all of a sudden? He'd never taken an interest in anything he or Jonathon had done in the past. Most of the time, he'd been more interested in their uncle and his heir Randolph. Perhaps his cousin was just trying to get on his good side now that he was the viscount.

“Did Jonathon join you?” Alistair said, placing his cards down on the table in defeat.

“No.”

“Oh.” Alistair picked up his drink and leaned closer. “I've heard those rumors circulating about, but I have supported you completely. I know you had nothing to do with the untimely deaths of our uncle and cousin.”

“I thank you for that, Tavers.” So the rumor mill was still churning out the same rubbish. If he ever found out who started that rumor, he'd kill them.

 

Tia couldn't stop her hand from trembling even an hour after they arrived at the party. She had heard stories of how the balls of the upper crust were so stunningly beautiful, but nothing prepared her for this party. Every woman wore a silk gown in amazing colors and the men were terribly handsome in their finery. Glancing about the room, there had to be at least seven footmen serving people drinks and checking on the refreshment table.

“Just remember, you do not introduce yourself to anyone,” Emily whispered as two women approached. “I will introduce you as my cousin from the Midlands.”

Tia nodded.

“Lady Eldridge, how lovely to see you,” the slightly older woman drawled. “And just who is this?” she asked with a direct look to Tia.

“Miss Hestia Featherstone,” Emily replied in a confident tone. “She is my cousin from the Midlands.” Emily turned to Tia. “Tia, this is Lady Bunworth and her sister, Miss Louisa Tavers.”

Tavers? As in Middleton and Jonathon? Tia's mind fluttered with questions. She knew Jonathon had no sisters so there was no relationship in that manner, but could they be cousins? Perhaps they had some knowledge of Jonathon's whereabouts. She longed to ask them, but glancing over at Emily there was a slight shake to her head, as if she knew exactly what Tia was thinking.

“It is a pleasure to meet you both,” Tia said in a demure tone. There was something about these two, especially Lady Bunworth, that she didn't like. While her mother had always told her not to make sweeping decisions based on a first impression, something told Tia that Lady Bunworth would never be friends with either her or Emily.

Lady Bunworth nodded in a condescending manner as if she was better than any of them. As Tia looked at her, she realized Lady Bunworth couldn't be more than twenty-three at most. And yet, she held herself up as far more superior in every way.

“It is a pleasure to meet you too,” Miss Tavers murmured.

“I do not remember seeing you at any of the Seasons in the past”—Lady Bunworth paused, looking Tia over from head to toe—“well, shall we say, the last few years.”

“I—”

“Unfortunately, my dear cousin hasn't had the opportunity,” Emily interrupted quickly. She leaned in closer and whispered, “Poor dear, one death after another in her family. First her father and then her dear mother became sick, so she was caring for her. And then Mrs. Featherstone succumbed.”

“Oh, my,” Miss Tavers whispered in return. “I am dreadfully sorry for all the losses, Miss Featherstone.”

Tia blinked as if holding back tears. “Thank you. It has been a difficult few years.”

“But now, you're free to enjoy all that Society can bring,” Miss Tavers said brightly.

“I suppose I am.” Tia sipped her lemonade, wishing it were a glass of wine. Emily had insisted on no spirits to muddle the mind. How could Tia bring up Jonathon's name without admitting she knew him? That would only draw suspicion to her and possibly ruin the sham of a background Emily had created for her.

“You must dance with my brother, Alistair,” Miss Tavers announced. “I shall find him at once.”

“Louisa . . .” Lady Bunworth tried to intercede, but Miss Tavers had left just as quickly as she'd made her proclamation. “Good evening, Lady Eldridge, Miss Featherstone.”

Emily giggled once Lady Bunworth left them in peace. “I truly have never liked that woman. Miss Tavers is a fine person.”

“Are they related to Middleton?”

“Oh dear,” Emily whispered. “They are cousins but I don't believe they are close. You shouldn't worry that they will speak of you to Middleton. Lady Bunworth would consider you unworthy of mention.”

“And her brother?”

“Handsome enough.” Emily frowned. “There have been some rumors about his fortune lately. He never had much to start and recently let go his valet.”

Tia wanted to slam her hand against her forehead. “But is he close to Middleton?”

“Tia, you must stop worrying over Middleton. I am sure no one will speak of you being here to him.”

Tia supposed Emily had a point. “Should I dance with Lady Bunworth's brother, then?”

“Of course. The more men who see you on the dance floor, the more attractive you will seem to them.”

“Why?”

“Because the more you dance, the more other men will see something in you that makes you worthy to take to the floor.”

Tia felt as if she'd stepped into another world. A world that made no sense to her. She watched in fascination as a man close to her in age strode toward them. He was, as Emily said, handsome with sandy brown hair, cut neatly short. He smiled as he approached.

“Lady Eldridge, my sister insisted I come over and greet you,” he said in a warm tone.

“Mr. Tavers, it is lovely to see you again. This is my cousin, Miss Hestia Featherstone.”

Mr. Tavers faced her and bowed over her hand. “It is a pleasure indeed, Miss Featherstone.”

“Thank you, Mr. Tavers.” Tia knew she had to pry a little about the family name to see if he knew anything about Jonathon. It was tricky business because she couldn't admit to knowing him. “Tavers? I feel I know that name from somewhere.”

Emily shot her a glare. “A common enough name, Tia.”

“Most of my family originates from the Midlands,” Mr. Tavers said with a touch of pride to his voice. “Viscount Middleton is my cousin.”

“That must be it, then. I am from the Midlands and have heard the name.” Tia smiled at him.

“The musicians are starting the next set. Would you care to dance?”

Tia slid a glance to Emily, who nodded. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

She linked arms with him and allowed him to guide her to the dance floor. Nervousness slid through her—not at the idea of dancing with Mr. Tavers—but it was the idea of dancing at all that had her apprehensive. How would it look if she forgot the steps? She would embarrass Emily in front of the people she wanted as friends, though Tia wasn't sure why Emily wanted any of these ladies as friends.