Vexing the Viscount

Chapter 1

Staffordshire, England, 1814

The door to Braden Tavers’s study hurled open and crashed against the wall. Glancing up from his papers, he cringed to see Mrs. Featherstone standing in the threshold with a look of fury upon her face. He’d never met a woman who could terrify him as she did. The cold stare she could give a person would scare the devil.

Mrs. Featherstone had been a wise woman for his friend, the Earl of Hartsfield, for years, but Braden had only met her a few times. Hart had forewarned him about her disposition and bluster. Braden wondered what brought her here to his estate. Her daughter, Tia, tended the ills and birthed the babies here. If there were something wrong with Miss Featherstone, one of the tenants would have informed him. And yet, based on the look upon her face, this was not a social call.

He rose slowly from his seat and bowed toward her. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Featherstone,” he said, as if her sudden appearance was a normal part of his day. “Is there something I can assist you with today?”

“Where is he?” she demanded before blustering into the room like a gale.

“Which he are you speaking of?”

She tilted her head and pursed her lips. “Mr. Jonathon Tavers.”

“My brother had some business to attend to in London.” If gambling and whoring could be called business. He prayed Jonathon’s exploits would be limited to only gaming and prostitutes. He had done so well spending a few weeks away from town. His brother’s abrupt return to town had Braden on edge.

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at him with her intense blue eyes. “And what are you going to do about this?”

What had Jonathon done now? Braden had rescued his younger brother from more scrapes than he could remember. Since Jonathon had run off again, Braden had hired two Bow Street runners to find him before he succumbed to his craving. After a fortnight of searching, they had no idea where he’d gone. “I have no idea to what you are referring, Mrs. Featherstone.”

“You don’t know?” She heaved a sigh before taking a seat in the chair across from him. “I must apologize, my lord. I thought you must have heard by now.”

He waited for her to continue, but she stared at her hands for a long minute. With her graying hair pulled back from her face, she appeared far younger than he knew her to be.

“She left, my lord.”

“Who?”

“Tia,” she whispered in a shaky voice.

He’d never seen Mrs. Featherstone look so vulnerable. And where the bloody hell had his wise woman gone? “Where did she go?” he asked gently.

“She sent a letter over a week ago stating that she was leaving for London. Chasing after your brother.” She sighed. “I assumed you would have departed to bring them back, but only this morning, I discovered you were still in residence.”

“Why would I try to return them?”

Mrs. Featherstone stared at her hands. “She doesn’t even know what happened to her sister.”

“What happened to her sister?” Miss Mia Featherstone assisted her mother at the Earl of Hartsfield’s estate. Surely, he would have heard if something had happened to her.

“Yesterday she was beaten by a man who was her lover.”

Braden closed his eyes. “Does Hart know?”

“Yes, he’s keeping her at the house to ensure her safety.”

He actually felt a twinge of pity for the man who had the gall to hurt the woman Hart loved. Braden doubted it would end well for the fellow. “Is she going to be all right?”

“She will be once she heals in a few weeks. But I couldn’t bear anything happening to my other daughter, my lord.”

Oh, hell. Braden clenched his fists. He might have a reputation as a rake, but Jonathon was far worse. Jonathon seemed to enjoy ruining every woman he could seduce. And if the rumors Braden had heard were anywhere near the truth, Miss Tia Featherstone would be in serious trouble if she found his brother.

“So, exactly what are you going to do to about this mess?” Mrs. Featherstone demanded again.

Nothing. He was done saving his brother from trouble. Braden had done everything in his power to help his brother, but Jonathon was six and twenty, and it was far past time for him to grow up. And Miss Featherstone was no better, running off after him.

“What do you expect me to do?”

She had the audacity to laugh at him. “I expect you to go find your wise woman and bring her back to your estate, my lord. I can help out here but Tia is your healer. Bring her back home.”

Braden blinked. “You want me to drop everything and run after your daughter because she had the foolishness to chase after a man?”

“Not just any man,” she replied coldly. “Your brother. And don’t think I haven’t heard what he does to innocent women.”

He clenched his hands into tight fists to keep from throwing something. The last thing he’d expected was for Mrs. Featherstone to know how his brother liked nothing more than to defile innocent women and leave their reputations in ruins. While Miss Featherstone might not care about her reputation, her mother certainly did. Still, that didn’t mean he had to chase after her.

“I’ll hire another runner to find her and return her safely to you.”

Steely blue eyes pinned him to his seat. Slowly, she rose and leaned over the desk. “No, my lord. You will go to London yourself and bring her home. I don’t trust a runner for this business. Only you.”

“I have no authority over her.”

“She works on your estate. She is your responsibility.”

His jaw tightened. There had to be some reason he couldn’t do this. And yet, the more she stared at him, the more he realized he had no choice in the matter. But he wasn’t about to let this woman one-up him. He rose slowly until he towered over her. “I will do this, but if Jonathon has already defiled her, there is nothing I can do.”

Instead of backing down like every other woman he knew would have done, she straightened herself and crossed her arms over her chest. Glaring up at him, she said, “Then you will make certain she returns a married woman.”

He laughed coarsely and shook his head. “I will do no such thing. I would never force my brother to marry—”

“Be very careful what your next words are, my l

ord.”