The Viscount's Veiled Lady (Whitby Weddings 3)

‘Were you stifled, then?’

There was a flash of something in his eyes, something piercing and intense like pain, at the same moment as a female voice spoke from the direction of the staircase.

‘Lance?’

The man in question rushed across the hallway, his expression turning instantly from bewildered perplexity to tender concern as Frances watched in surprise. The Lance Amberton she’d heard rumours about had been wild and dangerous. This man appeared to be the world’s most devoted husband. Evidently both brothers had changed.

‘Good evening, Violet.’ Arthur sounded as formal as if he were presenting her to the Queen. ‘Might I introduce Miss Frances Webster?’

‘Miss Webster.’

The woman broke into a wide smile as she took her husband’s arm and walked towards them. At ground level, Frances could see that her memory hadn’t exaggerated. Violet Amberton was without doubt the tiniest woman she’d ever laid eyes on, with white-blonde hair and disproportionately huge eyes in an amiable-looking face.

‘I’m sorry to impose upon your evening, Mrs Amberton.’ She inclined her head, trying to convey a sense of apology through her veil. ‘I’m afraid that I sprained my ankle and Lord Scorborough here rescued me.’

‘And now he’s brought you to join us for dinner?’ The woman’s gaze flickered between them, though her expression was inquisitive rather than calculating. ‘I’m so pleased. If we join forces, we might be able to stop these two talking about mining all evening.’

‘You mean you don’t find iron smelting as fascinating as we do?’ Lance put a hand to his heart. ‘You wound me, my love.’

‘Oh, but I’d never want to do that.’ She leant her head against his shoulder playfully. ‘But now I expect dinner is ready. I do appreciate your coming to dine with us, Miss Webster. If you can start a new topic of conversation, I’ll be forever indebted to you.’

‘I’m afraid that my dress...’ Frances gestured downwards again.

‘Oh, dear.’ The tiny woman looked sympathetic. ‘What a shame. I’d offer to lend you something, but I’m afraid you might find my clothes a little on the short side. Not to mention too wide.’ She patted her bulging stomach and laughed. ‘But it truly doesn’t matter. I’m just delighted to have anot

her woman to talk to. Please call me Violet.’

‘Then you must call me Frances.’

‘Then that’s settled. Here.’ Arthur extended his arm in a manner that was less of an invitation than a command, but Frances took it anyway, too touched by the other woman’s offer of friendship to spoil the moment.

‘Excellent.’ Lance clapped his hands together. ‘Now let’s eat. I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m famished.’

Chapter Six

Arthur swallowed a generous mouthful of port, wondering why he’d ever thought that bringing the woman to Amberton Castle was a good idea in the first place. Besides the inconvenience to himself, if his brother didn’t stop giving him pointed looks across the table then he’d do more than kick him under it. Happy as he was to take Lance’s mind off its usual preoccupation of worrying about Violet, his unexpected appearance with Miss Webster wasn’t something he cared to discuss. Even with his brother. Even when the circumstances positively cried out for an explanation. Even now that the ladies had adjourned to the parlour and he had the distinct feeling that he wasn’t going to be able to avoid the subject any longer.

‘So...’ Lance pushed a wooden-and-mother-of-pearl inlaid box towards him, opening the lid to reveal a row of thick, brown cigars. ‘Are you going to tell me what’s going on or do I have to guess?’

‘There’s nothing to tell.’ Arthur selected the nearest cigar and lit it with a candle. ‘But you can guess if you like. That ought to be entertaining.’

‘All right.’ Lance leaned back in his chair, inhaling thoughtfully before blowing a cloud of smoke into the air above his head. ‘In that case, I can only assume that you’ve decided to get revenge on the nefarious Lydia Webster by developing a tendresse for her younger sister. I imagine this is just one of a series of private liaisons.’

‘Not very private since I’ve brought her here.’

‘Ah, but naturally you’ve brought her here for my inspection and approval.’

‘Your approval?’

‘Knowing me to be an excellent judge of the female character, yes. I further presume that you’re eloping in secret, which explains why she hides her face even while eating.’

‘There’s no tendresse.’ Arthur snorted. ‘This is the first time I’ve seen her in six years.’

‘Then you ought to be more careful. Riding around the county with young, unmarried women is more my old style than yours.’

‘It’s nothing like that. She really did sprain her ankle.’

‘Ah. Pity.’