A Viscount's Proposal Page 2

  “That horrid man? What has he done?”

  “He isn’t horrid, Leorah. What makes you speak of him that way?”

  “Do you need to ask?” Leorah stared at her brother. “He is rude and uptight and despises me particularly.”

  “That cannot be true. He told me recently that he was sorry he had never made your acquaintance and planned to do so at the next possible occasion.”

  “That must have been before Mr. and Mrs. Colthurst’s ball a week ago.” Leorah heaved a deep sigh.

  “What did you do?”

  “I shall ignore your insinuated accusation since sweet Julia is present.” She scrunched her nose at her brother. “It turns out we knew each other already, although we hadn’t been formally introduced.”

  “Oh?”

  “He was the man whose hat got ruined when I was riding through Hyde Park. I wasn’t watching where I was going. I told him it was an accident, but the man has no sense of humor. Can you believe he accused me of being ‘a reckless hoyden’? He said it was young ladies like me, with no sense of just decorum, who were bringing down English society, and soon we’d be as unseemly as the French.”

  Nicholas stared at her, his eyes wide and his brows raised.

  “And, unfortunately, I encountered him again three weeks ago when he criticized me for running through the maze at the Fortenburys’ home. What is a maze for if not for enjoyment?”

  Nicholas laughed so hard and so long, Leorah put down her knitting and folded her arms and glared at him.

  “I see nothing funny about someone calling me, your sister, a reckless hoyden and accusing me of being unseemly. You should be outraged. The man has such an air of self-righteousness. He’s proud and imperious and . . .”

  Julia added, “And at the recent ball, he and Mr. Colthurst overheard Leorah and Felicity saying he resembled a pirate.”

  Nicholas frowned, his brow wrinkling in puzzlement. “A pirate?”

  “Never mind that,” Leorah said. “He is insufferable, and I’m sure he is sorry to have made my acquaintance. In fact, he practically said as much. If I ever see him again it will be too soon.”

  “That sounds very peevish and unjust.” Nicholas adjusted his paper so that his face was concealed from the two women.

  “Unjust? I am being neither peevish nor unjust. Why do you like him so much? Why take his side against your own sister?” Leorah picked up her knitting, but she was so angry she hardly knew what she was doing and had soon got her blanket into a snarl, making her growl under her breath.

  “Edward, the Viscount Withinghall, and I were in school together as boys. He is two years older than I and once saved me from a thrashing by some older boys. He is a good sort of fellow, and he’s also from Lincolnshire. Our fathers were on friendly terms, and now he is one of John Wilson’s greatest supporters in his Children’s Aid Mission.”

  “I am certainly grateful he did you that service when you were boys,” Julia said, sending an affectionate look toward her husband. “He seemed very courteous when I met him, though a little stiff and formal. But what was it you saw in the newspaper?” Julia asked. “You said there was something in the paper about him?”

  Leorah went on trying to undo the tangled knot she’d made in her knitting, determined to be silent and say not another word about the odious Lord Withinghall. The sooner the subject of that undertaker-viscount was dropped, the better.

  “It seems a young woman of dubious character is trying to say that Lord Withinghall had promised to give her exclusive rights, as it were, of . . .” Here he trailed off, looking up at Leorah. His gaze flitted to Julia and he cleared his throat. “That is to say, she claims she was his kept mistress, but the viscount refused to pay her the agreed-upon terms, including the stipend he receives as a Cabinet Minister. Apparently this was the story that came out a few days ago in the Morning Herald. But now the Courier is refuting her story, or at least casting doubt upon it, by saying that the woman in question has never been seen going in or coming out of Lord Withinghall’s house in Grosvenor Square, and he has never been seen anywhere near the woman’s lodgings on St. James Street. They also state that she is actually known to be the courtesan of someone else. And Lord Withinghall’s salary as a Cabinet Minister, as I know personally, is donated to the Children’s Aid Mission.”

  Leorah raised her eyebrows at Julia.

  “Oh yes, that is true,” Julia confirmed. “Lord Withinghall is the Children’s Aid Mission’s largest single supporter.”

  Besides Nicholas and Julia Langdon, of course. They worked closely with clergyman John Wilson, who had created the charity to help the poor children and their families. How curious that a stuffy bachelor such as Lord Withinghall should give money to a children’s charity.

  He certainly wasn’t spending his money on the latest fashions, for he dressed all in black and wore the stiffest cravat and the stingiest cut of coat.

  “Poor Lord Withinghall.” Julia clucked her tongue against her teeth and shook her head as she looked over at her husband. “I can’t imagine that the accusations are true, but he will be mortified, no doubt.”

  “No doubt,” Nicholas agreed grimly. “He has such a horror of scandal.”

  “Why?” Julia asked. “Because he is a statesman and a public figure? He probably doesn’t want to jeopardize his political career.”

  “Partially, though it stems mostly from what happened with his father when he was only a boy.”

  Nicholas didn’t continue. Leorah and Julia both looked up from their knitting and stared at him until he lowered his newspaper.

  “What happened to him when he was a boy?” Julia asked.

  “I don’t remember all the particulars. I’m sure he wouldn’t want anyone to remember.”

  “Nicholas Langdon, tell us what you know,” Julia demanded in her soft voice, while Leorah kept her scowl of annoyance directed down at her lap where Nicholas couldn’t see and be encouraged to tease her further. “You’ve piqued our interest, and it’s unfair not to satisfy our curiosity.”

  “His father was embroiled in more than one scandal, one of them involving a young married woman. Withinghall’s father was a Cabinet Minister, and he was poised to rise to the position of Prime Minister and First Lord of the Treasury, but he had a mistress who was a notorious courtesan, and she testified against him in Parliament. I don’t remember exactly what it was about. Something about bribes in exchange for votes on a bill, I think. And then, a year or two later, he had a dalliance with a married woman, which resulted in that woman throwing herself into the Thames and drowning. Her husband challenged Withinghall’s father to a duel, and he shot and killed the viscount.”

  “Oh my! How terrible for his wife and son.” Julia’s brows were drawn together in a look of sorrow.

  “Yes. Withinghall’s mother died soon after, and poor Withinghall was left quite alone, a viscount at the age of fourteen.”

  It was indeed sad. But had the present Lord Withinghall succumbed to the same weakness as his father?

  “Surely our Lord Withinghall would not dally with this woman who accuses him?” Julia gazed intently at her husband.

  “No, I cannot believe it of him, especially since the facts seem to point toward his innocence. We know he isn’t giving his Cabinet stipend to courtesans; he’s giving it to the Children’s Aid Mission. Besides, I know Withinghall, and he vigorously avoids scandal of every sort. He has a deep dislike for anyone who commits adultery and often quotes Hannah More’s writings on the subject of the aristocracy’s base lack of morality. As a matter of fact, he’s quite famous for an incident in which he passed to the other side of the street rather than engage in conversation with the Duke of York and his courtesan, the infamous Mary Clarke, a few years ago.”

  Leorah glanced up at her brother, who looked quite thoughtful, his paper lying in his lap.

  “It seems to me that men either become very much like their fathers, or the exact opposite of them.”

  It was interes
ting that Nicholas should say that, for he himself was the opposite of their cold, distant father. Was Lord Withinghall the exact opposite of his father, who had died in the throes of scandal and his own folly? After all, she couldn’t imagine Lord Withinghall exhibiting love or passion for a woman, nor could she see him having not one but two illicit paramours.

  She could almost feel sorry for Lord Withinghall. Still, he was rude and insufferable, and he dressed in the manner of an undertaker. The fact that his eyebrows made her think of a pirate was the only interesting thing about him.

  “Probably Lord Withinghall’s enemies are trying to make trouble for him,” Nicholas said, raising the newspaper again, “accusing him of what his father had been guilty of.”

  “Does he have enemies?” Julia looked up at her husband.

  Nicholas gave a tiny shrug. “Withinghall has aspirations of becoming Prime Minister and has been pushing the Tory agenda in Parliament since he was quite young. He was the youngest-ever Under-Secretary of State before becoming a Junior Lord of the Treasury. I would imagine there are quite a few Whigs who would like to bring him down, not to mention Tory colleagues who are jealous of his political success.”

  “Then it must be the work of one of his enemies, planting that absurd story in the newspaper.” Julia looked as though she would like to wring the necks of such unscrupulous people for hurting the man who gave his salary to her favorite charity.

  “The best thing for Withinghall to do is to get married,” Nicholas declared. Leorah glanced up to find her brother eyeing her. “Leorah, you had best stay out of his way, lest he choose you for his bride.”

  Leorah snorted before she could stop herself. “I am the very last woman he would ever marry. And he is certainly the last man to interest me. Can you imagine me married to him? He’d probably force me to stop riding, stop smiling, and laughing would be strictly forbidden. Would he want me to dress all in black as he does, do you think?”

  Julia half smiled, half frowned.

  “Don’t protest overmuch, dear sister.” Nicholas seemed to be suppressing a grin. “Or else one might think you actually do have an interest in the man.”

  “Don’t be absurd.” Leorah tried to concentrate once more on her knitting. “That would be the day,” Leorah mumbled to herself. To marry such a man! It was a fate worse than death and certainly worse than spinsterhood, which Leorah would sooner resign herself to than marry someone who would force her to conform to society’s idea of the perfect lady, a proper wife of a prominent Member of Parliament. She’d never feel free again, and she’d be trapped in that sort of cold, loveless marriage that was so common amongst the upper classes.

  Only the most passionate, forthright kind of love would ever induce her to enter the confining state of matrimony.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Leorah was half afraid the papers, in the next few days, would print a caricature of the Viscount Withinghall wearing pirate’s clothing and saying, “Arr! After we scuttle a few ships we’ll be off to ravish some fair maidens before Parliament’s back in session.” But after finding nothing of the kind, she sighed with relief. Their blunder in getting caught comparing Lord Withinghall to a pirate had gone unreported.

  What she did find was a retraction of the earlier accusation by the woman who had claimed Lord Withinghall had not paid her an agreed-upon sum for her favors. No explanation was offered, just a retraction of her statement.

  Soon Nicholas and Julia came down the stairs dressed and ready to accompany her to the Children’s Aid Mission. Leorah was waiting with the blanket she had just finished knitting.

  At the redbrick building near Bishopsgate Street, they entered to the sound of children laughing and playing in the courtyard at the back of the building.

  “Good morning, Rachel.” Leorah greeted the young woman who met them in the doorway holding a baby in one arm and a basket in the other.

  “Good morning, Miss Langdon. I was just taking this basket of bread to the kitchen.”

  They all exchanged small talk while Leorah took the baby from her. “Little Livvie is getting so big.”

  “Yes, she is, and finally sleeping through the night.” Rachel smiled.

  Rachel had been helping at the Children’s Aid Mission since before her baby was born. She said she needed something to occupy her time and her mind as she tried to find employment.

  “My baby is illegitimate,” she had told Leorah one day when they were watching the younger children play and making sure they didn’t wander off. “I am not a respectable lady like you, Miss Langdon, and I will understand if you wish not to speak with me anymore.”

  Leorah had only shook her head. “I would never shun you. God loves us all. We are all frail creatures with no right to condemn anyone.”

  A little boy ran up to them. His mother worked as a laundress and depended on the Children’s Aid Mission to watch out for him while she was away from home. He gave them both a shy smile, then handed them each a little wildflower he had picked from the yard.

  “Thank you, Peter,” they said.

  When Leorah turned to look at her, Rachel’s eyes were full of tears.

  “Thank you, Miss Langdon. You are much more charitable than most women.”

  Leorah learned later from Sarah Wilson that Rachel was the courtesan of some Member of Parliament, but Rachel would not say whom. She came nearly every day to the Children’s Aid Mission to help.

  Now, as Leorah held the baby, Nicholas and Julia went to speak with the young rector and his wife who ran the mission.

  Rachel hurried back from the kitchen. “Here, let me take her. I know she is heavy.”

  “Not at all. Let me hold her a while.” Leorah snuggled the plump baby girl’s cheek against hers. Baby skin was surely the softest in all creation.

  Rachel sighed deeply, as if she’d not had time to catch her breath all morning until then. “She is drooling so much, I believe she must be teething. Be careful or she’ll get your dress wet.”

  Leorah laughed. “A little baby drool can’t hurt. Isn’t that so, Livvie?” She looked little Livvie in the eye and cooed and smiled at her. Her tiny fist was in her mouth, and so she couldn’t smile back.

  Leorah turned her attention back to Rachel. “Have you found a position anywhere?”

  Rachel shook her head. “There doesn’t seem to be anywhere I can work that won’t force me to separate from Livvie. If I get a position as a servant, I’ll be away from her nearly every day and most nights, and I would only be able to see her one day a week. I don’t have anyone who can watch her, and besides that, I cannot bear to think of being away from her so much. I am not sure what I can do.” Rachel bit her lip, obviously fighting back tears.

  “If only there were something I could do. I would help you, Rachel, with all my heart.” If she were an independent woman, if her father would give her the twenty thousand pounds he held in reserve as her dowry, then she could settle Rachel somewhere near her. Or better yet, she could open a home for unwed mothers like Rachel, to give them a place to go. For so many like Rachel, their only options were to give up their children or to become some man’s “kept mistress” in order to keep their child.

  “Perhaps my brother Nicholas could help you.”

  “Miss Langdon, you are too good.” Rachel smiled wanly. “I wish to work and make my own way, but there is another possibility. There is a home Mr. and Mrs. Wilson have told me about where I might go and live with my daughter and still help out at the Children’s Aid Mission.”

  Leorah knew where she meant. It was a crowded building for unwed mothers and mothers-to-be who had nowhere else to go. To say the accommodations were not very comfortable was an understatement.

  “I know what you are thinking, but it will do for Livvie and me. I need to get used to less luxury.” She bounced the baby, who was getting fussy, up and down in her arms. “It cannot be long before he stops paying my rent.”

  “Has he seen the baby? Is he not willing to pay a stipend for he
r care?”

  Rachel shook her head, not meeting Leorah’s eye. “He still insists I give her up.” Tears welled up in her eyes. She whispered, “I would never give her up.” She hugged her baby tighter, discreetly wiping a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand.

  “I shall be going back to Lincolnshire soon, but I want you to write to me,” Leorah said. “I shall write to you here, and Sarah Wilson will make sure you get my letters. I’ll help you in any way that I can, and I want to know what is happening with you.”

  Rachel smiled. “You are very kind, Miss Langdon.”

  A few nights later, Leorah accompanied Julia and Nicholas to a concert featuring a soprano she had heard much about. As they were arriving at the beautiful concert hall, its alabaster walls and columns aglow with candlelight, Leorah separated herself from Nicholas and Julia to speak to Eleanor Thomas, an acquaintance of hers.

  While the two of them stood speaking about the horrible weather, which had for days prevented them from taking a morning walk, Leorah watched Lord Withinghall enter and walk toward Nicholas and Julia. They stood conversing.

  Leorah groaned before she could stop herself.

  “What is it?” Eleanor asked.

  “Oh, it is only . . . nothing.” It was best that she didn’t gossip about the man. She wasn’t as sure of Eleanor’s discretion as she was of Felicity Mayson’s. As she continued her conversation with Eleanor, she kept an eye on her brother and sister-in-law and Lord Withinghall.

  Couldn’t the man afford more fashionable clothes? The cut of his coat was less than admirable, and his cravat was so plainly tied that it gave him the appearance of a poor clerk in a counting house. Though he was rather thin, she couldn’t fault the width of his shoulders nor his height. Only his tailor.

  “Isn’t that Viscount Withinghall talking with your brother?” Eleanor asked.

  “Oh yes, I believe it is.” Leorah turned away from the three as though it did not concern her in the least.

  “I have heard the viscount has twenty-five thousand a year.” Eleanor’s eyes were wide with interest, looking as if she had entirely forgotten what they had been saying about Hyde Park and the best places to walk. “He is quite handsome, don’t you think?”