Page 23 of A Viscount’s Reluctant Passion

Chapter Ten

Nash leaned back in his chair, and raised his glass in a toast. Chase echoed his movements. It was done – all of the paperwork, review of books, and hiring of new and extra staff where required for both the Montford estates and the Travers estates. The new estate manager would work with the elderly man, Mr Charters, who had performed that role for the old Duke, and allow Charters to ease into retirement.

It was a monumental relief to have it all done. Now, Chase could focus on understanding all that he would need to do, as Duke, and on preparing for when the conclusion of mourning would send him back into society. A point at which the matchmaking mamas of the ton would undoubtedly have him as top of their list of targets. Nash did not envy him that in the least.

The brandy warmed him, and suddenly, knowing that tomorrow, he could rest, he felt exhausted.

Chase looked at him, and a wry smile crossed his lips.

“Those who dream of inheriting a high title have no idea, do they, brother?”

“No – all that they think of is the wealth, and the supposed power in society – they don’t realise the weight of responsibility that comes with it. But you’ll do well. We’ve got it all at least reasonably in order now, and uncle, whilst his filing system left a lot to be desired, was at least obsessive about keeping every document he ever touched. And you already know how to swim in the pool of sharks that is called the ton, and survive.”

Chase laughed.

“They’ll be circling with a vengeance now – an unmarried Duke is a marked man. And I’ve no intention of marrying yet, although now, I suppose I’ll have to, relatively soon. Can’t leave the Duchy without an heir, especially as you don’t have a son either. You’d best consider marriage too – for the Marquessate now needs an heir too.”

Nash allowed Chase’s words to sink into him. it was one of the things that he had been avoiding thinking about, but Chase was right – he could no longer ignore the concept of marriage. As that thought settled in his mind, an image of Miss Wormsley overlaid it, unbidden. He stilled, considering.

If he had to marry, then a woman like Miss Wormsley was exactly what he would wish to choose – a woman who was capable of intelligent conversation, who liked looking her best, without being foolishly obsessed with fashion, a woman whose kiss could drive him to an insanity of desire…

He swallowed the last of his brandy in one gulp.

He saw, now, that he had been a fool. And that if he did not cease being a fool, rapidly, then some other man would charm Miss Wormsley, offer for her, and sweep her away. The thought of her, with any other man, was unbearable.

He loved her – that was now abundantly clear to him – and he would be best served by telling her that, at the earliest opportunity. Chase was watching him, and he suspected that his thoughts had been showing quite clearly on his face.

“Tomorrow, I’ll be off, to at least attempt to do something about that very matter.”

“Ah, so, that’s the way of it – Miss Wormsley, if she’ll have you, I assume?”

“Yes.”

“I wish you luck, then, if that’s what you want. For myself, I’m nowhere near ready for it yet – but then, I’ve not yet met a woman whose company I could stomach for days on end, let alone life.”

“One day, you will, I’m sure.”

Chase nodded, and sipped his brandy, as Nash took himself off to bed. Tomorrow was a day which would change his life, one way or the other.

~~~~~

True to his word, Lord Walter had been calling every day. And every day made Bea more desperate – for the man spent as much effort on charming Honour and James as he did on Bea, and she had no idea how to explain the truth of him.

He took every opportunity that he could to attempt to be alone with her, and she avoided it, having enlisted Ellie to spend every moment with them. Never again would she allow herself to be alone with Lord Walter. Dealing with it was tiring, yet she was not sleeping well. Where before her sleep had been filled with dreams of Lord Challoner, and his kisses, now, it was just as likely to be disrupted by dreams of Lord Walter’s hands upon her.

More and more often, she found herself walking in the gardens or down towards the river which crossed the property downhill from the gardens. The flowers and the quiet calmed her, and she spent her time considering ways in which she might convince Lord Walter to leave her alone. The last day or so, he had seemed more insistent, almost impatient with her, and his charming manner was wearing a little thin, at least to her perception.

She feared him – feared what he might do, and did not understand why he pursued her. For she was utterly convinced that, no matter what he said, he did not love her.

On this particular afternoon, she had chosen to go into the gardens early, hoping that she might be well away from the house before he arrived, and that she could hide until he departed. It was most impolite and improper of her to plan such a thing, but she was beyond caring. To sit in the shade by the river, and dream of Lord Challoner’s kisses, was far preferable to facing Lord Walter’s company in the parlour.

As she stepped onto the path between the rose beds, it was as if she stepped away from her life, at least for a while. The heavy warmth of late summer settled around her, and there were no sounds beyond the water in the distance, and the bees.

~~~~~

Lord Walter Winterbourne was becoming beyond impatient. More than a week had passed, and the chit appeared no closer to being charmed into submission. If he could not move her soon, he would need to take rather more drastic action. But to do so required him to get her alone, and she had proven most adept at avoiding that. Her maid was ridiculously scrupulous about attending them, and Walter often found himself grinding his teeth in frustration.

If he could get her alone, he would first threaten her with exposing their little assignation at the Belmonton Ball, through gossip and careful whispers in the right ears, ruining her reputation, and implying that her family were all no better than her. The gossips would love it. But what he wanted was for her to fear it enough to comply with his wishes, and marry him.