The Viscount's Rose (The Farthingale Series Book 5) Page 16

  The overstuffed brown leather crackled as Julian settled into his chair and stretched his long legs before him. “Let’s not,” he said, declining the brandy Lord Malinor was about to pour. The man was dressed in yellow silk this evening and sported a large, flame-red ruby ring on his plump middle finger. “I don’t require your help in wooing Countess Deschanel and I would appreciate your not getting involved.”

  Malinor shrugged and poured himself a glass. “Much as I would like to be rid of this duty, I must see it through on Prinny’s orders. So, let’s speak frankly, one man to another. You can tell me if you’re involved with another woman.”

  “There is no other woman,” he said, irritated to have to play the part of wounded lover. “That’s what has me so distraught. How can I prove what doesn’t exist?”

  His companion winked at him. “Well said, now let’s get to the truth. What have you been playing at, Chatham?”

  Julian sighed. “I’m no rake, nor have I ever had a roving eye. I will speak no more on the subject. You may tell Prinny whatever you wish. I’ve done nothing wrong and I hope in time the lady in question will come to realize it.”

  “How much time will you give her?” he asked, arching his powdered eyebrow.

  Julian withdrew the small box containing the ring he’d purchased earlier and toyed with it in his fingers. “As long as she needs. This ring won’t turn to waste and I expect it will take me quite some time to find another lady who might have more respect for me,” he paused and nodded toward the box, “or for this gift I’d happily bestow on her.”

  Lord Malinor gazed into the amber liquid in his crystal glass. “You speak like a heartbroken lover and yet there are rumors of your dallying with that Farthingale girl. Not that I would blame you, she’s a tempting bauble—”

  Julian jolted up in his seat. “With all due respect, Lord Malinor, you are treading on dangerous ground. You may say whatever you wish about me, but I shall call you out if you ever insult my sister’s dearest friend. Whatever slanderous gossip you’ve heard is nonsense. If you ever treat her or speak of her as anything other than a lady, I shall stuff your entrails—”

  “Egads, Chatham!” He set down his glass and raised his hands in mock surrender. “If there’s nothing to the rumor, then why are you so protective of the girl?”

  “Surely you’ve heard that I saved her life.” Not quite true, for Rose would have made her way safely out of the demolished shed eventually, whether or not he had been present. Still, he’d carried her out and tended to her injuries. That counted for something, didn’t it? And he’d scared the stuffing out of Sir Milton Aubrey, the perpetrator who’d sabotaged her kiln. The dastard knew better than to show his face in England again, on pain of death at Julian’s hand.

  “She must have been grateful.”

  “She and her family thanked me. That’s it. She’s a nice girl from a decent family but has very little social polish. She’s very pretty, but Countess Deschanel is dazzling. Surely, you agree. How can the two compare? Miss Farthingale is a quaint pearl, but the countess is a diamond of the first water.”

  “Very well,” he said with a chortle. “I’m duly chastened.”

  “Since we now understand each other, I’ll be off to the theater with friends.” He rose to signal an end to their conversation. “Care to join us, Malinor?”

  “Who are you going with?”

  “Lord and Lady Chester, Lady Bainbridge, and her nephew, Lord Randall.”

  Lord Malinor rolled his eyes. “No. What are you doing in the company of those old fossils?”

  “Randall’s my age.”

  “He behaves like a doddering old man. John Randall is one of the dullest men I’ve ever met. All he talks about is hunting grouse in Scotland or wild boar in the forests of Saxony.”

  Julian nodded. “I thought I’d invite him to Darnley Cottage when I return there at the end of the week to escort my family back to London. He enjoys fishing and our stream is well stocked with—”

  “Spare me, Chatham. No wonder the countess wants nothing more to do with you. I never realized you were so deadly dull.” He sighed and rose with him. “I’ll put in a good word for you should I happen to see her, but otherwise I’ll keep out of your business. However, the blame is on you if Prinny finds out I’ve done nothing to advance your cause.”

  “Agreed.” Julian nodded. “Thank you.”

  He left White’s and hopped in his carriage to join his friends at Vauxhall Gardens before they all headed off to the theater on Drury Lane. He was late. He and John Randall had much to discuss, for John was one of the most respected agents in Prinny’s royal circle of spies. The elders in their entourage served as a cover for their activities, lending an air of genteel respectability and allowing them to plan their next steps under cover of social engagements.

  John tossed him a questioning glance as he approached. “Got rid of Malinor?”

  Julian nodded. “For the moment. Hopefully, for good. There’s something about the man I don’t trust.”

  “I never thought much of him either.” John grinned. “He detests me, thinks I’m a crushing bore.”

  Julian shook his head and laughed. “You’ve perfected your cover, the dull nephew who’s devoted to his elderly aunt, your only pleasure being hunting, which is something you drone on and on about until everyone present is put to sleep by your aimless blather.”

  “My aunt,” he said, nodding toward Lady Bainbridge, “quite enjoys the charade, although she worries that I’ll never find the right girl while I’m forced to remain in character. I haven’t minded so far. Haven’t yet come across the young lady who knocks the breath out of me. Why are you suddenly frowning?”

  “I have a favor to ask of you.”

  John shrugged. “Of course, whatever you need.”

  “Good, because I need you to protect a girl for me.”

  John crossed his arms over his chest and eyed him warily. “If you mean the black widow spider, forget it. She’s all yours.”

  “No, I’m talking about Nicola’s best friend, Rose Farthingale. Long story. You don’t need to know all of it. What you do need to know is that she’s in danger. Valentina is jealous of her. She’s gotten it into her head that I like her.”

  John’s eyes rounded in surprise. “Do you?”

  He ignored the question. “I need you to watch over Rose. More than that, I need you to pretend to court her. I can’t think of another way to keep her safe. Pretend, John. Your role is to defuse an explosive situation. Nothing more.”

  “And if I should happen to fall in love with Rose?”

  Julian clenched his jaw and curled his fists. “I shall have to kill you.”

  The gesture was noted by his friend, who grinned and, in jest, ran a finger along his suddenly too tight collar. “Ah,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  CHAPTER 13

  ROSE’S BREATH QUICKENED as she peered out the window of the bedchamber she and Nicola shared at Darnley Cottage. It overlooked the lovely front gardens that were abloom with lilies, daisies, and daffodils, a daily reminder of her sisters. The garden afforded a clear view of the drive leading up to the cottage. “I see two riders approaching.”

  “Two?” Nicola stopped sorting clothes for her maid to pack and joined her by the window. They weren’t scheduled to leave until tomorrow, but since the family would depart early in the morning they needed to accomplish as much as possible today. “The one on the black gelding is definitely Julian, but I don’t recognize the gentleman on the roan… oh, yes, I do. It’s his friend, Lord John Randall.” She turned to Rose, groaning and rolling her eyes. “Crumpets, as the twins would say. The man is such a bore. I can’t believe he and my brother are friends.”

  Rose continued to peer at the approaching pair, studying them as they reached the cottage and casually drew up their horses to dismount with the easy grace of experienced riders. “He looks pleasant enough.”

  Nicola groaned again. “He’l
l put you to sleep within five minutes in his company. All he ever talks about is hunting. Or fishing. Or the proper gun for hunting. And the proper rod for fishing. Nothing else ever rattles around in that limited brain of his.” She pursed her lips suddenly and quirked her head.

  “What’s the matter, Nicola?”

  “It’s just struck me that my brother has the worst taste in friends. First Countess Deschanel and now Lord Randall. I must have a serious discussion with him, make certain he didn’t fall off his horse and strike his head some time over this past year.”

  Rose giggled. “Don’t be silly.”

  “I’m being quite sensible for a change. He must have suffered a serious blow to the head around the same time that he met that horrid woman. How else can his sudden execrable choice in friends be explained? For pity’s sake. One is an ice queen and the other a eunuch.”

  “Nicola! That’s not a nice thing to say. Your brother can’t be too pleased with your choice of friends either.” Of course, Rose was referring to herself and the wanton night she’d spent… no, she’d worked hard to suppress the memory of that exquisite encounter that had ended so badly. Julian believed her to be an untrustworthy young lady of loose morals and even looser character.

  As though sensing he was being spied upon, Julian chose that moment to glance up.

  Rose quickly moved away, but she knew he’d seen her because he suddenly frowned. “Your brother is still angry.”

  Nicola tossed back her auburn curls. “Let him be. We’re angry too. He’s given us just cause.”

  Rose moved to the mirror and studied her reflection. Her cheeks were a hot, bright pink. Pinker than the demure pink hyacinths in the weave of the muslin gown she’d chosen to wear today, the choice of gown purposely designed to make her appear innocent—which she was—except for the wanton thoughts about Julian that continually rattled in her brain. It wasn’t her fault that her body’s response to his nearness was to instantly heat and become lustily wild and rampant. She’d never experienced these unwholesome urges until she’d met him.

  He was the bad influence.

  She was the unsuspecting innocent.

  She cleared her throat and patted her prim bun. Well, perhaps she could no longer be considered innocent, not after the night they’d shared at the hunting lodge. “I’ve almost finished packing. Have you?”

  Nicola nodded and playfully bumped her from her spot in front of the mirror. “My turn.”

  Rose grinned as she watched Nicola primp. “I thought you didn’t care for Julian’s friend.”

  Nicola blushed. “I don’t. The man is dull as dishwater.”

  “And yet, you’re fussing with your gown and hair. Interesting.” She took pity on her friend as she continued to protest, taking her arm and nudging her toward the door. “We may as well go downstairs and get the uncomfortable greetings out of the way.”

  Nicola held her back a moment. “Rose, are you glad to be going home? It’s been almost ten days since you’ve last seen your family.”

  She nodded. “I do miss them, very much. I’ve never been apart from my parents or sisters this long before.”

  “I hope you won’t end our friendship once we’re back in London.” There was a sudden, quavering catch to Nicola’s voice. “I’ll never forgive myself for what we did to you. I was so certain Julian liked you. More than liked you. And I knew you were falling in love with him. I wanted so badly for the two of you to end up together.”

  Rose put up a hand to stop her, for she’d received this apology daily from Nicola and knew she was sincerely suffering over her mistake. “I do care for your brother, probably more than is wise. But he doesn’t care enough for me to change his intentions, so that’s an end to it. The incident is over. No outsiders are the wiser. I’ll move on and so must you.”

  Nicola was now wringing her hands. “But will we remain friends?”

  What Nicola had done to her was unpardonable and yet her actions had been born out of love, so Rose knew she would forgive her in time. Also, Rose had gone along with tempting Julian and it wasn’t merely because she was selflessly devoted to Nicola. She had been falling in love with Julian, and her feelings were obvious to all in his family. “Yes, but you must give me a little distance. There’s much I must still think about.”

  Nicola eagerly agreed. “Of course. Take all the time you need… but not too long, please. I shall miss you terribly once we’re back in town. You’re the only friend I have there. In truth, you’re my only friend anywhere.”

  Rose gave her a quick hug. “That’s because you’re a meddlesome, opinionated, brash, and headstrong… wait, that’s me, too. And my sisters. Not Daisy, though. She’s sweet and perfect, but we love her anyway.”

  “I suppose that’s why you and I get along so well. We’re odd ducks. I’m glad neither of us fits society’s constraining mold.”

  They swept downstairs, arm in arm and heads held high, and entered the salon. Lord and Lady Darnley were seated on the sofa, about to offer the new arrivals tea and cakes that had already been rolled in on a silver cart. Julian and his friend were standing beside the unlit hearth, Julian resting his broad shoulder against the mantel and John perusing a painting of a fox hunt. “I told you,” Nicola whispered. “Hunting on the brain.”

  “Ah, there you are, girls.” Lady Darnley looked up and smiled at them. “Your brother made excellent time and arrived earlier than expected,” she said after introducing Rose to Julian’s companion. “He and Lord Randall thought they’d do some fishing today.”

  Nicola nudged her again, a silent I-told-you-so. “Where will you fish? Rolf intended to sketch by Puffin’s Bend, but we’ll—”

  “That’s where we’ll be fishing,” Julian said, still not smiling at either of them.

  His friend, however, had a genuinely amiable expression on his face. “We’d be delighted to have your company, Miss Farthingale.” John Randall was taller and more muscular than she’d expected, and although he wore spectacles and had the reputation of being boring, there was a glint of mischief in his gray-green eyes that hinted of more going on in his brain than Nicola credited him for.

  Nicola fidgeted beside her. “What about my company, Lord Randall?”

  He removed his spectacles and slowly rubbed them with his handkerchief, and then even more slowly returned the handkerchief to his breast pocket and his spectacles to his nose, quite aware of the silence that filled the room in expectation of his response and in no apparent rush to accommodate by hastening to respond. “If you must, Lady Nicola.”

  Rose bit her cheek to stifle a wayward bubble of laughter. The fiend! He was teasing Nicola. Did he like her? Because despite Nicola’s protestations, Rose knew that she liked Julian’s friend. The manner in which she angled her body toward his gave her away.

  “Of course I must! If Rolf is to join you, then so must I. It wouldn’t be proper for her… alone… never mind. Stop casting me those smug, disapproving glances, Julian. You’ve little to recommend yourself either.” Nicola stuck out her tongue.

  Lady Darnley groaned. “Children, both of you behave yourselves. Most of all you,” she chided, pinning Julian with her most imperious scowl. “After all, you’re a viscount and your sister is barely out of her leading strings.”

  Julian grumbled.

  Nicola pouted.

  John winked at Rose, catching her by surprise. At first, Rose ignored the gesture, for it seemed quite forward considering they’d just met. What had Julian told him about her? Did he also believe she was a woman of loose morals?

  “Miss Farthingale,” John said, ambling to her side, his manner quite deferential and not at all leering, “I would be honored to escort you to the fishing spot. Permit me to carry your sketchbook and pencils. I understand you’re an accomplished artist. My friend,” he said, glancing at Julian, “speaks highly of your ability. Have you had formal training?”

  “No, my lord. My learning is solely from art books I’ve received as gifts from my family
over the years. No tutors. Just my own attempts to put into deed all the ideas I’ve read about.”

  His hair glinted gold as he stood beside her in the sunlight. “You’ve taught yourself. Then I’m even more impressed. I understand you also work with clay.”

  She nodded. “But that’s had to come to a halt for a while.”

  He nodded sympathetically in return and glanced at Julian. “I was told my friend had to teach one of your detractors a nasty lesson after the bounder damaged your kiln.”

  “Seems you know a lot about me, my lord.”

  He grinned at Julian. “Lord Chatham spoke of you the entire ride. Chewed my ear off about you, if you must know.”

  Julian crossed his arms over his chest and grumbled again. “Will you waste the entire day chattering or do you intend to fish?”

  “Ah, I’ve been duly chastened.” He took Rose’s hand in his and politely bowed over it. “A pleasure to finally meet a young woman of your intelligence, talent, and beauty. Shall we all meet on the terrace in half an hour and walk to the pond together?”

  “An excellent idea,” Lord Darnley remarked. “You ought not waste this beautiful day indoors.”

  Rose watched in silence as Julian and his friend strode out of the salon, their gaits arrogantly confident and showing not a whit of weariness despite their hours in the saddle. Nicola began to huff and puff as soon as the men could be heard climbing the stairs, their deep voices and occasional laughter resonating through the hall as they shared a private jest. “Uh-oh. Nicola, what’s wrong?”

  She emitted a ragged breath. “Lord Randall likes you.”

  Rose frowned, for her friend sounded pained and she certainly had no wish to hurt her feelings. “No, he’s merely being polite. He’s never met me before. It signifies nothing.”

  Nicola shook her head vehemently. “It means everything. He paid attention to you.”

  Rose opened her arms to her friend and offered her a comforting shoulder. “Isn’t that what gentlemen are supposed to do?”

  “Yes, but… but, he’s a eunuch. He shouldn’t—”