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Authors: Lady Reggieand the Viscount

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BOOK: Amy Lake
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I said nothing to demur.  My brother sat down on the nearest sofa and glared at us both.

* * * *

 

I will not attempt to reproduce here the entirety of Freddie’s complaint, as to do so would tax anyone’s patience.  But the gist of it was this; I had abandoned my family in London and taken off into the wilderness—

“To
Bath
,” said Cassandra.

—and now the earl was beset of a foul temper and the house was in an uproar, the accounts were not being paid—’twas your charge, sister, you insisted upon it—and the vintner would sell them no more brandy!

I couldn’t help it.  I did laugh.

“’Sell’ is not quite the word,” I told my brother, “when no payment is offered.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.  I must have my brandy.”

And moreover—

Apparently the Duke of Wenrich had been most unpleasant, and was now pressing Lady Celia to accept the suit of Lord Wardfrell but Celia wanted nothing to do with that gentleman and he—Freddie—must have her.  He must!

 “And that is why it is imperative that you marry the Viscount of Cardingham, as soon as ever possible,” finished Freddie.  “We will offer more.”

“More money!” said Cassie.  “Have you run mad?”

“Ah,” I said.  This conversation was a match to many others I had shared with my brother.  “Go away, Freddie.  I’ve no answer for you.”

“But—“  he said.  “You are an ungrateful sister, Reggie!  You do not care a tuppence for your own family!”

I stood up, as did Cassandra.  Heads high, we swept from the salon, and nearly ran upstairs.

“Your brother—” said Miss Barre, under her breath. 

“I know.”

I paced my bedroom, halfway between laughter and tears, as Miss Barre went off in search of tea and sustenance.  She returned shortly, with the assurance that Edward would have a batch of his best honey scones ready within minutes.

“Thank heavens.”

 Cassie also told me that Mrs Baxter was at a loss as to what to do about Freddie.  William had tried to show him out, but my brother refused to go. 

I sighed, and rose.  “I suppose I must deal with this.”  

“Just wait,” said Cassandra.  “I told Mrs Baxter to simply ignore him.  I think he’ll get bored soon enough, and leave on his own.” 

The honey scones and tea arrived, and we were happily occupied for several minutes.

“Do you suppose it is Lady Celia that has Freddie so upset,” I asked Miss Barre, “or merely the lack of brandy?”

“’Tis difficult to say.”

“He was never so unpleasant before.”

“Has he not always gotten everything he wanted, before?”

“True.”

“And it seems,” added Cassie, “that the Duke of Wenrich has decided to auction his daughter off to Lord
Wardfrell
.  Can you imagine?”

I nodded.  “Poor girl,” I said, which was perhaps the first time that such an epithet had been attached to one of his grace’s generally unpleasant children. 

I had a sudden thought.  “What will I do if Lord Davies shows up and Freddie is still here?  My brother is liable to say the most awful things when he’s in a state.”

Awful, I was thinking, as in ‘oh, and here’s the lucky groom!’.

“I shouldn’t worry, said Cassandra.  “I can’t imagine the viscount paying much heed to Freddie.”

Somewhat reassured, I started in on a second scone, which is when another knock at our door echoed faintly throughout the house, and Mrs Baxter came to tell us that the Earl and Countess of Aveline had just arrived at 5, Sydney Place. 

* * * *

 

Miss Barre offered to conduct this interview herself, without my presence.

“No,” I told her.  “But if you would accompany me—”

“Of course.”

So she and I entered the salon together.  Cassandra withdrew to the window seat, ignoring the earl’s glare.

And there we were—myself, Freddie, the earl and countess—in Aunt Sophie’s salon.  I wondered when my family had last been together in a single room.

Perhaps never.

My father’s face betrayed nothing, but my mother began to cry.

“Oh, Regina!  Regina!  We’ve been so worried!”

“Yes,” added Freddie.  “How can you have treated your mother so ill?”

This was all nonsense, as I had answered—promptly—each one of their letters. 

“I have been quite safe in my aunt’s home, madam, as you know.  Why are you here?”

’Twas unkind, and I regretted my words at once, for my mother’s face showed true emotion.

“I have missed you,” she said simply.

I embraced her, for the first time since my childhood, and she sank back into the sofa, quite content.

  I could not account for all of them having arrived in Bath on the same day, but my brother’s next words provided some explanation.

“Our father is equally concerned about the Duke of Wenrich’s intentions,” said Freddie.  “His grace came to see us only two days ago, as I would have explained if you—”

The earl interrupted.  ’Twas always necessary that my father be in command of every conversation.

“Yes, yes, well.  The situation has become . . . acute, Regina.  You must return to London at once.”

I suddenly comprehended the problem.

“If he has decided to encourage another suitor, I would assume the duke has thought to return the funds you’ve given him,” I said slowly.  I already knew the answer.

“Of course not,” said Freddie. 

I turned to my brother.  “And so you have impoverished the family—for nothing at all.”

Foolish of me, not to have realized it at once.  The money.  My father had given the Duke of Wenrich an enormous sum of money, and if I did not marry the viscount—if Freddie did not obtain Lady Celia as some recompense—then our family’s position was dire, indeed.

The Earl of Aveline would be the laughingstock of the
ton
, for one thing.  I suspect this is what bothered my father the most.   

“And what are your plans at this juncture?” asked the earl, not one to waste his breath.

That was the question, was it not?  But I would not tell them the whole of my intentions.

“I have nothing particular in mind.”

“Oh!  Oh!” said the countess softly.

Freddie was outraged.

“Nothing in mind!” he cried.  “You are a selfish creature, when your own family is suffering like this—”

“Suffering!  In what manner, I ask you?” 

“—when we have scarcely a feather to fly on, when—”

I think he would have gone on for hours, but my father waved him silent.  The earl’s pride would not appreciate the situation expressed in such blunt terms.

“I believe,” said my father, “that like it or not, your duty lies with your family.”

I gave him no answer, and there was a tense pause which lasted briefly, until we all heard soft scratching at the door.

One can only imagine the uproar that had been going on in the household during all this time, and I wondered how many ears had been listening at the keyhole.  Had Mrs Baxter decided that a plate of Edward’s scones would be just the thing to calm frayed tempers? 

“If I may,” said Cassie, and crossed the room to open the door.

“Please,” I sighed.

It was, in fact, Mrs Baxter, whose expression betrayed her; she glared at Freddie.

“The Viscount of Cardingham is here to see you, my lady,” she said.

My lady!  For a fraction of a second I thought she was addressing the countess.  Then the words sunk in.  Lord Davies.  Lord Davies was here.  Now. 

 

Chapter 51:  Lady Reggie Wishes to Marry

 

He strode into the room and from that moment I felt that somehow, despite present company, everything would turn out well.  His eyes fixed on mine and he smiled.  Lord Davies’ smile was—and is—enough to make any young woman weak in the knees. 

Then he saw my family.

“Aveline,” said the viscount, in surprise, to my father.

“Cardingham,” said the earl.

“Oh!  Oh!” said the countess.

My brother only smirked, and I considered throwing something at him.  Something heavy.

“I’m glad to see you,” I said to Lord Davies, attempting to ignore everyone else, which was no easy task.

“I hope you are well.”

“Very much so.  And you?”

He nodded.  I imagine we were both staring at each other like besotted fools.  ’Twas really quite wonderful.

“Well, then,” said Freddie.  “This should have been accomplished weeks ago.  But now that my dear sister has come to her senses—”

My brother’s tone was smug and unpleasant, and Lord Davies turned in his direction with a look that would have given a stronger man pause.

“You have nothing to say here, Freddie,” I said.  “Please leave.”

“—I’m sure we can count on Lord Davies to very quickly—”

That was enough.  I rounded on him.  “This is
my
life
,” I said to Freddie, in sudden fury.  I felt as if I could do anything, say anything, that not even my father could stop me.  “My life!  ’Tis true that I hope to marry his lordship.  But
you
can count on him to do exactly
nothing
.” 

“Oh, I certainly can!  After all, your Lord Davies has family, too, those two silly—” 

Perhaps it was the threatened lack of brandy that made Freddie so unwise.  Horrified by what my brother was about to say, I tried to stop him.  But before I could utter a word, the earl had moved quickly.  He raised his hand and slapped Freddie full on the cheek.

“That’s
enough
,” said my father.  “Your sister no longer requires your presence.” 

The countess was too overcome to say anything, although I saw her mouthing ‘oh, oh’.  Freddie was thunderstruck.  So was I.  I had never before heard either of my parents say a word to gainsay their son.

“You will leave,” said the earl.  “Immediately.”  And there was something in his voice that my brother did not care to contradict.

He left, muttering something about ‘ungrateful’, and possibly ‘brandy’, but no-one in the room paid him the least mind.

* * * *

 

I am as likely as any young miss to fuss over trifles, I suppose.  But this was something so beyond trifling that I scarcely knew where to begin, or what to think, or whether ’twould be best to fall into hysterics; my brother insulting the sisters of my once and future fiancé, my father supporting me—as it seemed—at Freddie’s expense, the suggestion, once again, that I wished to marry Lord Davies for his money—

And my declaration of wishing to marry a particular gentleman.  In that gentleman’s presence.

Good heavens.  I stole a glance at Cassandra, still sitting quietly at the window.  She winked at me. 

Then I raised my eyes again to the viscount’s, praying that I did not see the beginnings of dislike written there.

He was grinning.

“So you wish to marry me?” he said.

“Yes,” I said, and blushed deeply.

“Even if I am merely using you for my sisters’ advantage?”  His tone was teasing.

“I don’t care.”

“Aveline?” said Lord Davies, to my father.

“You have my blessing,” said the earl, with a shrug.

My mother was simply openmouthed.

They left, and Miss Barre as well, closing the door with a firm hand.  I heard voices in the hallway, accompanied by excited barking, and I guessed that Cassie was giving some rather specific instructions to the household.  The Viscount of Cardingham regarded me with a look I could not misinterpret.  I ran to him, and we fell into each other’s arms.

* * * *

 

It is difficult to say how long the ensuing interlude went on, as Lord Davies and I took the opportunity to renew our acquaintance, and our kisses, and I could think of nothing else but his lips on mine.  I sat on his lap on the sofa and when that proved not quite comfortable we reclined a bit, and then a bit more.

Our affections had progressed to a rather shocking degree when Mr Elliott—who had apparently been sleeping that entire morning in one of the more commodious armchairs, in a corner and just out of sight—woke up and wandered off, greeting us with a vague wave as he left the salon.

“Aunt Sophie’s clock-winder,” I explained, a bit breathless.  I stood up and attempted to smooth my skirts. 

The viscount pulled me back down.  “I do love you, you know,” he said.  “And I wish to marry you.  For no other reason than that.”

I nodded, and whispered the same words in return.

Do not allow my mistakes to separate us
, Lord Davies had said.

We would not.  Nor my own.

 

Epilogue

 

 The next days were a blur of delight.  Talfryn and I spent more than one evening on that same sofa, and the household was generous in granting us some time to ourselves, alone if you did not count Euripides, who had attached himself to the viscount with a dog’s certitude.      

Janie and Alice did giggle a bit whenever they saw Lord Davies.  He bore this good-naturedly.

The viscount’s absence for several days before the ball in the Upper Assembly rooms was soon explained; he had returned to London to obtain a special license.  Perhaps I should have been piqued at such self-assurance; I was not.  So his lordship and I were married only a week later, in Bath, with Cassandra and my aunt’s household in attendance, along with Carys and Isolde, who traveled from town to welcome me with love and open arms into their family.  The twins and I, and Cassie, have become fast friends.

Miss Barre, I might add, will marry Lord Jeremy within the coming year.  I have no doubts that the two of them will enjoy a long marriage, content in each other’s company and a sad disappointment to the gossips of the
ton
.

My parents were pleased to send a letter of congratulations and best wishes on the occasion of my marriage.  Freddie maintained an offended silence for a fortnight or two, until he could no longer resist, and wrote to ask Lord Davies for funds.  My father had, as it seems, finally come to the end of his patience with Lord Wilfred, and had refused to buy him a second barouche. 

Talfryn appealed for my thoughts on the matter;  I sighed and said that I thought we must begin as we meant to go on.

BOOK: Amy Lake
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