The Viscount's Veiled Lady (Whitby Weddings 3)

Arthur rubbed his sleeve over his face. He’d been elated for the first few days after his engagement, but now Lance’s words made him feel mildly discomforted. I suppose Frances knows what she’s getting herself into... But she didn’t, did she? He might have told her all about his past, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about his fears for the future. He’d hinted at them perhaps, but he’d never actually told her just how concerned he was about the possibility of losing his mind again. Over the past month he’d managed to convince himself that he’d put the past behind him, but what if he was wrong? What if there was still a chance of another episode? Shouldn’t he warn her? At least give her a chance to change her mind about marrying him?

He grimaced at the thought of how that conversation might go. Dear Frances, as much as I’d like you to marry me, you ought to know that there’s a good chance my mind is unstable and I might run away again. Only try not to worry. It only happened once before for nine months. Hardly any time at all really... What bride wouldn’t want to hear such sweet words?

He slammed a hand down on the workbench. At least the artist’s studio he was preparing for her was starting to take shape. Contrary to what she’d assumed, he had no intention of stopping her from making jewellery and hopefully this would prove it to her. There was a new stove and lamp, as well as a rug he’d taken from the parlour to make it more cosy. Of course, they’d need a new one for the parlour at some point, but he’d let Frances choose that. She’d probably want to redecorate the whole house according to her own tastes. That was if she wanted to live there at all. Maybe she assumed that they’d move into Amberton Castle. Everything had happened so quickly there hadn’t been a chance to discuss it. Maybe there were more things he ought to discuss with her?

He ran a hand over his head. The more he thought of it, the more telling her the truth, all of it, seemed unavoidable. It would be difficult, painful even, but his conscience wouldn’t let him marry her until he had. If she was the woman he thought she was, then she’d understand and at least it would give him an excuse to visit her again, something he hadn’t done for the past four days and which he was finding increasingly difficult to bear.

There was a sound of hooves and he went outside to see a horse and rider galloping into the yard. One glimpse of red hair and he recognised Lance’s young protégé, a youth he’d taken into his service five years before and was now training as a steward.

‘Daniel?’ He caught at the horse’s reins. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘It’s Mrs Amberton, sir. The baby’s coming. She wants...’

‘The baby?’ Lance was already standing on the farmhouse doorstep, his face ashen. ‘Now?’

‘Yes, sir. It came on very sudden. I got here as quickly as I could.’

‘You’ve done well.’ Arthur was already throwing a saddle over his own horse. ‘What about a doctor?’

‘Mrs Gargrave’s sent for one, sir.’

‘Good... Lance!’ Arthur bellowed as his brother showed no sign of moving. ‘Come on!’

‘It shouldn’t be happening yet.’ Lance still didn’t move. With his grey pallor he looked almost like a statue.

‘That doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. You said so yourself. You wanted the babe to come early, remember?’

‘Yes, but not this early!’ Lance shook his head. ‘I should never have said that. This is all my fault.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Arthur practically hurled his horse’s reins at him. ‘It doesn’t work that way. Now get on your horse. Violet needs you. Now!’

‘Violet!’

Lance’s shout was so loud that Frances thought half of Yorkshire must have heard him arrive. It put even her father’s bellow to shame, though it wasn’t the kind of call designed to soothe a woman in labour either. Fortunately, the doctor’s arrival five minutes earlier meant that she was able to run out into the corridor to greet him.

‘Captain A—Oh!’ She stopped at the sight of both Amberton brothers. Arthur had an arm wrapped around his usually stubbornly independent twin’s shoulders and was half-dragging, half-carrying him up the stairs.

‘Frances?’ Arthur looked equally surprised to see her, almost dropping Lance as their eyes met. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I came to show Violet some of my jewellery.’

‘Oh, Captain Amberton, Lord Scorborough...’ The housekeeper followed her out of the room. ‘Thank goodness you’re both here. I’ll make some tea. Captain!’ She gasped as Lance made to push past her. ‘Surely you’re not going in there? It’s not proper.’

‘Propriety be damned! Who’s going to stop me?’

‘Wait!’ Frances decided to do just that, taking a firm step sideways. The crazed expression in his eyes was disquieting. ‘Take a deep breath first.’

‘Why?’ His expression turned from surprised to panicked in under a heartbeat. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing. The doctor says that everything’s proceeding as normal, but Violet needs you to be calm.’

‘Calm?’

‘Yes, calm. You’ll be no help at all to her like this.’

‘But she’s all right? She’ll be all right?’

‘I hope so.’ Frances looked towards Arthur for support. Lance’s very intensity was alarming, as if he were trying to force her into a promise she had no way of keeping.