Vexing the Viscount

“Thank you.”

As soon as the duke departed, Braden ordered his carriage to be readied. He left the house soon after, feeling frustrated at his inability to find either his brother or his wise woman. With North’s arrival, he’d lost too much time to search a gaming hell, so instead he proceeded directly to the party. Hopefully, he would get some good news tonight.

The line to Lady Whitfield’s party was far longer than usual for a late-summer fete. Finally able to disembark the carriage, he walked up the steps and a butler opened the door for him.

“Good evening, my lord,” he said, as if recognizing Braden.

“Thank you,” Braden said, removing his hat.

“Fitzworth, my lord. If you need anything while

you’re here, just let me know.”

“Very well.” How odd. The man was quite odd indeed. Perhaps he treated all the guests in the same manner, but somehow Braden doubted that.

With a shrug, he walked into the salon and searched the room for the woman who might have sent him the note. He had nothing to go on, not even an initial. As a footman paused by him, Braden snatched a glass of brandy and then sipped it slowly. Down the hall, the sounds of music told him the dancing had begun. But he had no interest in dancing. If Jonathon was in attendance, he would be in the gaming room.

Fighting the crush of people, he walked down the corridor and glanced into the ballroom. A flash of red hair caught his attention, but he lost it just as fast. Braden almost laughed at the idea of Miss Featherstone being here. It was absurd indeed.

The gaming room was set up in the library. He entered the room but once more Jonathon was not here. At least, not yet. Braden decided to sit and play a few games. Perhaps in time, Jonathon would arrive.

“Middleton, I’d heard you were back in London.”

Braden stifled the urge to roll his eyes as his cousin Alistair sat down next to him. “Tavers,” he said with a nod before turning his gaze back to his cards.

“What brings you back to town?”

“Just a little business to clean—I mean, clear up. How are my cousins?”

“Constance has been full of herself since marrying the baron a few weeks ago. Louisa is heading for the shelf. At two and twenty and four seasons out, she seems destined to spinsterhood.”

“Well, that is a shame. Between the both of them Louisa was the kinder of the two.”

“There is nothing wrong with marrying your cousin, you know. She would make a wonderful viscountess. Unless you have your sights on someone else?”

“Perhaps I do. After all, I must keep the family name intact, do I not?”

“Yes,” Alistair said with a cough. “You must at that. If you need an extra footman or maid while in town, please let me know. I’m quite sure we could do without for however long you are in town. How long might that be?”

“I’m quite well suited with the servants, thank you. And I haven’t decided how long I shall be in town. It depends on the business to which I must attend.” Why was Alistair so curious about his affairs all of a sudden? He’d never taken an interest in anything he or Jonathon had done in the past. Most of the time, he’d been more interested in their uncle and his heir Randolph. Perhaps his cousin was just trying to get on his good side now that he was the viscount.

“Did Jonathon join you?” Alistair said, placing his cards down on the table in defeat.

“No.”

“Oh.” Alistair picked up his drink and leaned closer. “I’ve heard those rumors circulating about, but I have supported you completely. I know you had nothing to do with the untimely deaths of our uncle and cousin.”

“I thank you for that, Tavers.” So the rumor mill was still churning out the same rubbish. If he ever found out who started that rumor, he’d kill them.

Tia couldn’t stop her hand from trembling even an hour after they arrived at the party. She had heard stories of how the balls of the upper crust were so stunningly beautiful, but nothing prepared her for this party. Every woman wore a silk gown in amazing colors and the men were terribly handsome in their finery. Glancing about the room, there had to be at least seven footmen serving people drinks and checking on the refreshment table.

“Just remember, you do not introduce yourself to anyone,” Emily whispered as two women approached. “I will introduce you as my cousin from the Midlands.”

Tia nodded.

“Lady Eldridge, how lovely to see you,” the slightly older woman drawled. “And just who is this?” she asked with a direct look to Tia.

“Miss Hestia Featherstone,” Emily replied in a confident tone. “She is my cousin from the Midlands.” Emily turned to Tia. “Tia, this is Lady Bunworth and her sister, Miss Louisa Tavers.”