But Joshua knew he would not be pleased, regardless of how many charms Mlle. Sylvie LaFleur possessed. There was only one lady he desired to take to wife.
Rather than resolving a challenge, this visit had added another. The sole way he could see to politely circumvent the dowager’s suggestion was to propose to Miss Emerson this very day and gain her consent. At the very least, he would have to prepare her for his newfound obligation of dancing first with the duke’s ward.
As the duke was expected at any hour, he asked to leave a message for that man and wrote a note in the duke’s study. “I entreat you, my lady, to surrender this to his Grace upon his arrival,” he said when he granted it to her. “It involves a matter of urgency.”
“You may rely upon me to place it in his hand the moment he arrives.”
“I thank you.” Joshua bowed and departed, checking his watch with a wince. Writing the letter had taken more time than he had intended, and Miss Emerson might be growing impatient. The last thing he wanted was to lose her goodwill at this moment.
He strode to the gig and Molly, unaware that the dowager watched his departure. No sooner was Molly trotting toward the village than the dowager broke the seal and opened his message to the duke. He would have been gratified to see her astonishment to learn that Gerald was alive.
Family wasa man’s bulwark against the world, in the view of William Jones. If there were people one could rely upon, in good times and bad, it should be one’s relations. Had he not stood by his sister when she found herself unwed and with child? Had he not given both her and her babe a home? He had, indeed, because she was his family, and the last of it, too.
Had he not repaired her situation once he had finally learned the name of the father? Truly, William had. Written to the man’s brother, he had, saying as all should be made right. He had been in his cups when the viscount called with Darney and the tale of the annuity, and he had doubted the truth of it all. But Viscount Addersley was a better man than his brother, to be sure, forhe had made matters aright, taking a responsibility his brother had not. William was inclined to think that he and the fine gentleman shared a similar view of the world.
There remained, however, the question of the babe in Alice’s belly, another child of the viscount’s brother. If he should provide for one, why not the other?
When William saw the viscount leave that new lady at the dressmaker’s, he had a notion that he would make another appeal.
No doubt, the viscount would return for the pretty miss. William had no pressing obligations on this fine day, and he would wait for the chance to yet again improve his sister’s circumstance.
He took his leisure, imagining a better future for all of them. Perhaps the viscount might be inclined to find Alice a husband. Moving to Addersley village would be good for Alice, get her and Francis away from the temptations of Haynesdale Hollow.
Aye, William would wait and speak to the viscount.
Helena beganto wonder what delayed the viscount. She had collected her slippers and reviewed nigh every item in Mrs. Jameson’s shop, lingering over some particularly lovely silk. She had expected him to appear at the door at any time, amused by her fascination.
But he had not come.
They had exhausted their welcome in the shop, Helena having no resources to make an acquisition and had finally left the establishment.
The viscount was not there, nor was there any sign of him approaching.
They stood before the shop, looking up and down the main thoroughfare of Haynesdale Hollow. A heavy-set man seemed to take note of them and settled against a wall some twenty feet away, his gaze fixed upon them. Helena strove to ignore him.
“We cannot go to the tavern, miss,” Becky said. “Though I should love a cup of tea.”
“As would I,” Helena agreed. “But we must wait here, lest we miss the viscount.”
“I hope no ill has befallen him, miss,” Becky said long moments later.
Helena held fast to her parcel and hoped the same. Where could he be?
A throat was abruptly cleared behind them.
“Begging your pardon, my lady, but they say you are the one Viscount Addersley is courting.” Helena turned to find a young boy addressing her. His expression was earnest and she could not escape how strongly he favored the viscount.
“I could not say,” Helena said, then made a guess. “Would you be the son of Mrs. Lewis?”
He smiled. “Aye, my lady. Francis is my name. My mum says as there are details you should know of his lordship and she is the best to tell you of them.” Could there have been an assertion better designed to pique Helena’s curiosity? “Will you come to her, my lady? It is not far.”
Helena hesitated.
“My mistress is not interested in gossip,” Becky began, but Helena raised a hand to silence her maid.
“What manner of details?”
“My mum has known that family all her life. She knowssecrets, my lady.”
