Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Addersley Manor, Nottinghamshire, England - April, 1817

I t has often been said that those who eavesdrop seldom hear good of themselves. Joshua Hargood, seventh Viscount of Addersley, had never believed as much until this day.

Of course, he was not inclined to eavesdrop. In this particular instance, he overheard the comments of his servants entirely by accident. He was seeking his butler, Fairfax, to communicate that he would assume his late father's habit of dining in the library when alone. Enough of the lonely sound of one set of silverware on the china, echoing in that vast chilly space. Bachelor and viscount, Joshua could do as he chose. Perhaps he would become eccentric early.

The fact was that solitude chafed upon him. It had been easy to keep his vow to his father when there was a task that had consumed him utterly. The end of the war meant the end of that labor, though. He missed analyzing messages from spies and covert individuals, seeking the patterns and aiding in the crown's strategies. Tending his hereditary responsibilities at Addersley Manor simply could not compare.

Joshua was haunted by that season in London, its revels and pleasures. Though he had no desire to return to such reckless abandon, he tired of a staid and predictable life. Surely, there was some middle ground, one that would not require breaking his promise to his father.

He had need of a quest, but had yet to discover one of merit.

Joshua slowed on the stairs at the sound of voices in the kitchen, then halted entirely when he heard his own name.

"'Tis a right shame, it is, his lordship being such a good man but nary an inclination to marry," his cook, Mrs. Baird, said with a heavy sigh. "'Tis unnatural. There shall never be any wee bairns in this house, if matters continue as they are."

Joshua could readily imagine the stocky older woman shaking her head.

"It is admirable for his lordship to forgo matrimony after the loss of his betrothed," Fairfax said with authority.

"But it has been a decade!" Reed, Joshua's valet, protested.

"And that marriage was arranged, as I heard it," Mrs. Baird said grimly. "With the old lord dead and buried, there is no one to arrange another match."

Fairfax, the butler, cleared his throat pointedly. "His lordship might choose a bride himself."

Reed chuckled. "Oh, and the pretty ladies will fall over their feet to accept a man said to have ice in his veins."

Joshua looked down at the floor. If that was said of him, it was not without justification. He took pride in keeping his thoughts to himself.

"He has a title and enough wealth to keep a wife content," Fairfax said. "If young ladies were not so frivolous, they might see the merit of that."

"I do not see a line at the door," Reed said with his usual irreverence. "Not even ambitious mamas consider him a good prospect."

"If ever he left Addersley, he might catch the eye of one of them," Mrs. Baird said.

"His lordship is in mourning," Fairfax said severely. "Surely, you have better things to do than speculate endlessly and achieve nothing."

Joshua turned away, considering the notion. Could he arrange a match for himself? He would have to mingle more in society, but perhaps a wife would resolve his restlessness. It would provide him with a task, to be sure, and perhaps a much-needed sense of purpose.

"Oh, how these halls used to ring with laughter and mischief when first I came to this house," Fairfax said. "So much changed at Addersley with the untimely demise of the viscountess." The deep tones of the butler were as unmistakable, as was that man's philosophical tone. "An enchanting woman, gracious, beautiful, and always cheerful. I never met a lady so like a welcome beam of sunlight."

Joshua was startled by this markedly poetic compliment from his staid butler.

"Died when his lordship was six years of age, did she not?" Reed asked, for he had not been at Addersley that long.

"And Master Gerald only five," Fairfax intoned. "There were those as said she had the boys too closely together, but even I knew how she yearned for a houseful of children. The old viscount could deny her nothing." Fairfax dropped his voice. "'Twas whispered that she was with child when she caught that illness."

Mrs. Baird clicked her tongue. "Two lost at once then. 'Tis a pity."

"Indeed. His lordship was never the same after her demise, even though Master Gerald was so like her. Perhaps it broke the old viscount's heart to see so much of his lady in that boy."

Joshua's frown deepened. It was true. Gerald had shared their mother's nature. No wonder the house seemed dark and dreary in the absence of both of them.

If he took ever a wife, she should be lively.

Mrs. Baird chuckled. "A proper scamp Master Gerald was, but one with charm to spare. No one could remain angry with that boy, no matter what he did. And now he's dead and gone, along with the old viscount, and there is only quiet as his lordship seems to prefer. Addersley Manor might as well be a tomb!"

Joshua could only agree. But what price to change matters? Could he endure a season in London, even to find a bride? He feared his resolve might crumble in the face of so many temptations. He could not return to the life of a wastrel and break his vow.

"Such doings in London, that wicked place, but it must be ever so lively." Mrs. Baird sighed again, her words unwittingly echoing Joshua's own thoughts. "I suppose there is no chance of ever seeing it with my own eyes."

"I believe his lordship intends to sell the London house," Fairfax said, which was entirely true.

Mrs. Baird and Reed sighed as one at the opportunities lost with that potential transaction. "Tell us of that last time in London again," Mrs. Baird urged, undoubtedly speaking to Reed. "I wish I could have seen the argument between those two boys myself."

"I saw only a part of it and could not hear it all, but you would not have recognized his lordship," Reed said, ignoring how Fairfax cleared his throat in disapproval. "He was as a man possessed. Such fire and fury! I have never seen him thus, and there were hot words between they two, for the first time I ever heard. Of course, Master Gerald was unrepentant, and the old lord was livid with them both."

"Curious," Fairfax said. "One must wonder at the cause."

"There is no cause to wonder," Reed said. "'Twas always about a woman with Master Gerald."

Mrs. Baird laughed. "Ah, he would have had a dozen children in these halls by now if he had been the heir."

"His lordship is a good man and a better viscount than his younger brother would ever have been," Fairfax chastised her. "We might have found ourselves in the street with no more than a crust of bread if positions had been reversed and Mister Gerald had inherited the title."

Joshua turned away. All of their lives, the brothers had been compared, and save for his father and apparently his butler, Joshua was always judged to be inferior to Gerald. A better companion, a better guest, better with a jest and in coaxing a lady's smile, Gerald had possessed more charm in his smallest finger than Joshua in his entire body.

Gerald had lived every minute of every day. He lit a room when he entered it. His smile prompted even the most surly curmudgeon to soften. And the women. Joshua shook his head. Women had fallen at Gerald's feet wherever he went.

The two brothers, to be sure, could not have been more opposite in nature. Yet despite that and all that had passed between them, he missed his younger brother.

Joshua returned to his library, no longer caring where he dined. Oh, Gerald would have enjoyed every moment of having the title and the modest Hargood fortune. It might have taken him a fortnight to rid himself of every last shilling. He would have laughed when it was done, unburdened by regret—then charmed some heiress and spent her legacy, too.

In contrast, Joshua was committed to keeping the estate solvent for the rest of his life. It was true that the house seemed to brood in silence in these days, the shadowy corners filled with ghosts. Fairfax was right. Once, these halls had been lively. Once there had been guests and parties, even the occasional ball. Christmas had been magical. But the merriment had ended with his mother's death.

Addersley Manor had need of a viscountess.

Where would he find a bride?

Of greater import, what kind of wife would suit him best?

Joshua began to compose a list, for every task was more readily achieved with a clear objective. First and foremost, the lady should be vivacious. He yearned for his home to echo with laughter again. She should be of a health and age that allowed for the bearing of children., so their laughter might join her own. He would not mind if she were lovely, though he was more interested in her nature than her appearance. Was it wrong to wish for a wife who snared his attention, who surprised him on occasion, who might match wits with him or share in the pleasure of good books? Joshua thought not. Such a woman could not fail to stir his blood.

Beyond that, he had few requirements. If she could not ride, he could teach her. If she knew little of managing a household like Addersley Manor, he would be content for her to learn at her own pace, even if she made mistakes. He did not care whether she had a dowry either, for he was comfortable in his own right.

He reviewed his list then added one more item. It would be best, in his view, if the lady bore no resemblance to Miss Charlotte Havilland, his betrothed who had died. People would make much of it and though he cared little for gossip and rumor, the lady might be wounded by such idle speculation. If a lady accepted his suit and became his wife, she would be beneath his protection and Joshua would not allow her to be injured in any way.

Dark hair then, or chestnut tresses. Anything but blonde the hue of honey. She should not be tall and willowy like Charlotte. In truth, he had a fondness for petite women. There was something delightful about sweeping a woman off her feet and into his arms. He recalled carrying off a courtesan in those London days, much to their mutual satisfaction—although that happy result had not solely been due to his carrying her to the bed.

Was it wrong to consider the appeal of marriage's physical delights? Joshua thought not. Indeed, he had been solitary too long and sons were not conceived by will alone.

He had a list then, and an objective. What remained was to create a plan, ideally one that did not require his return to London for the season.

Were there any ladies in the vicinity of Addersley that fulfilled his list?

He could not say.

Joshua frowned at his desk and picked up the letters that had been delivered that morning. There were a few tradesman's bills, anticipated and of little interest, and one letter.

He noted the unkempt state of the paper. Had this missive been dragged through the mud before its delivery? Frowning, Joshua held it with distaste as he opened it, then stared at the single line within.

You must pay for your brother's crime.

Joshua turned the missive over, finding neither return address nor postmark, nor indeed, any other distinguishing mark. Had it been delivered by hand? He would ask Fairfax but could already guess what the reply might be. Someone had gone to some trouble to deliver this message without detection.

Just like the last one.

The other had not been so filthy, but it had also been without any identifying marks or signature. The message had been the identical.

His brother's crime. Joshua could think of a thousand insults and misdemeanors committed by Gerald, pranks and jests every one, but a crime? The notion was preposterous, which was why he had burned the first note, thinking it a tasteless joke.

Why had their father bought Gerald that commission? Had there been a specific impetus? Joshua had not been privy to that interview but had only been told of it in the briefest of terms after Gerald's departure. He had never liked the lost opportunity of seeing Gerald off, or of reconciling after that one bitter fight.

His father's arrangements had meant the brothers had never spoken again, let alone reconciled. Had that been the plan? Joshua looked across the library, to the chair favored by his father, wishing the old man's ghost might appear to answer his queries.

But then, his father had answered few questions while alive, and a habit of such discretion refined over a lifetime was unlikely to change, even in death.

Who was sending these notes? The threat was clear, though vague. Joshua reasoned that his best chance of solving this riddle was with the assistance of the Duke of Haynesdale. He had been away from Addersley and Nottinghamshire too long to hazard any guesses himself.

He knew that Haynesdale was not in residence at his country house, but perhaps that gentleman's mother knew her son's plans. It could not hurt to ask the dowager duchess, not just about the plans of her son but possibly the availability of local ladies. His estate manager, Mr. Newson, was expecting him at four but it was only just past one.

A ride to Haynesdale House would fill Joshua's afternoon most admirably.

The one thing Constance DeVries, the Dowager Duchess of Haynesdale, could not abide was an ambitious female.

It was one matter to have reconciled—to some extent—with Lady Frances Dalhousie, her long-time social adversary, but quite another to further that woman's obvious aspirations to secure Haynesdale for her niece.

Yet Constance had been fool enough to send the coach to collect aunt and niece for tea. She had not initially considered what hay would be made of a gesture she saw as merely courteous, not until the coach was out of earshot.

Since then, she had fumed in anticipation of Fanny's gloating. The woman could be insufferable!

The friction between them had begun in their debut season, when Constance had caught the eye of the heir to Haynesdale, who subsequently became her husband. Though the two young woman had initially been amiable, Fanny had been vexed with Constance ever since Luke's preference had become evident. In recent weeks, they had reached a more friendly balance again, mostly due to Frances' nephew marrying Constance's daughter. Nicholas and Eliza were a very happy couple.

To Constance's thinking, her former rival should have been content. But the interest of Fanny's young niece in the graces of Haynesdale had been unmistakable, never mind her apparent fascination with Damien, Constance's sole surviving son and the duke.

Constance had once remarked upon Fanny's tenacity and it seemed that some matters did not change with time. Having failed to secure Haynesdale herself, Fanny would undoubtedly seek to see her niece graced with the coronet. Miss Helena Emerson appeared to have the identical objective in mind.

If only Damien had seen fit to wed in a timely fashion.

If only Damien had seen fit to wed at all.

Constance did not doubt that her son waited for love, as she and his father had done, but still. It was absurdly inconvenient for him to be an unattached duke with Fanny's niece in the vicinity, her ambitious gaze fixed firmly on strawberry leaves. How far would Helena go to win Damien's attention and his ring? Constance could not guess, but the girl had been raised by Fanny, which was no good portent. Doubtless they two would ally together to win their goal.

If only men were not so often foolish about pretty girls.

If only Helena were not so very, very lovely. Truly, the girl was an incomparable beauty, which was the worst possible luck.

Damien, Constance well knew, would be unshakable once he settled upon a bride, no matter how unsuitable the lady in question might be. She knew the obstinacy of her son well. It would be prudent to resolve Helena's match before Damien returned to Haynesdale, whenever that might prove to be.

Indeed, that had been the impetus behind hosting a ball in less than a fortnight's time—it would be a sensible investment with the objective of seeing Helena matched before Damien's return—yet Constance had not been able to secure the appearances of more than a handful of eligible young men.

None of them could hold a candle to Damien, either in looks or fortune.

She was not an overly proud mama: she was honest.

And she was vexed.

Constance was considering her own limited possibilities for ensuring a happy outcome when a caller was announced. She rose as Viscount Addersley stepped into the room and bowed to her, and found herself smiling in genuine welcome. How she liked this young man, who was not so young anymore. She calculated quickly. He was several years older than her daughter Eliza, but much younger than her son Damien. Why, he must have seen thirty summers by now.

She blinked in realization of a simple truth. Joshua Hargood was of an eligible age, possessed of a fortune and a title, tall and handsome and not without assets of his own. In her view, his character was one of the best. His dark brown hair had a wave to it, his eyes were green and thickly lashed, his profile such that he could have been used as a model for a statue of Adonis.

He had been his father's pride and joy.

She could only admire a man who had surrendered, along with his brother, to the temptations of London yet managed to extricate himself to establish a respectable life. There had been, of course, the tragedy, but Constance knew many men whose path would not have been altered about it.

Of course, the viscount was not a garrulous man. Indeed, he could sit in silence for longer than she found reasonable. He was not a fool, though, his gaze sharp and incisive, and she doubted he missed many details.

Pretty girls seldom had their wits about them, though, when they considered suitors. Too many of them were seduced by charm or lavish spending, empty compliments and promises. The viscount might take time to make a pledge, but once it was made, he would keep it at any price.

It was curious that Joshua and his younger brother had been so very different. Lady Haynesdale's sons had possessed marked similarities, all resembling their father in one way or another. But that had not been the case with the viscount's sons. While Joshua had every honorable trait of nature, being noble, steadfast and thorough in the fulfillment of his duties, his younger brother, Gerald, had possessed an unholy measure of charm and vivacity.

To her thinking, Gerald's beguiling manner had disguised a selfish nature and an obsession with his own pleasures. She thought him reckless. The man could not have kept his word to save his life, but those undiscerning females had adored him. Joshua had often been overlooked in his brother's company, to be sure.

It was a shame for such a fine young man to be unwed.

But then, Miss Emerson and her aunt were expected momentarily, at her own invitation. Perhaps the meeting of the two younger persons was meant to be. Perhaps Constance could ensure a most suitable match, one that would eliminate any threat to Damien. Truly, for a viscount to wed the niece of a viscount would be entirely suitable.

"Lady Haynesdale, I thank you for seeing me without announcement on this day," the viscount said, accepting a cup of tea. "I had hoped that the duke might be in residence as well."

"Alas, Damien departed from London over a week ago. I fear I do not know either his destination or the date of his planned return." The viscount said nothing, his expression inscrutable. "Might I be of assistance?"

"I fear not, madame. I wished to consult him on a private matter." He stared into his cup as if he would conjure conversation from its depths. "I will not trouble you any longer…" he began.

Constance hastened to fill the cup again. "I did not realize you were in the country,"

He nodded as he settled back in his seat. "Father wished to be buried at Addersley Manor, as is traditional in the family. We returned two months ago, in his final illness."

"I must extent my condolences, as well."

The viscount nodded acceptance and sipped his tea with troubling purpose.

"And all is well at Addersley Manor?" she asked.

"Quite well, thank you."

He would put his cup aside and leave.

Trust Fanny to be late on this occasion!

Constance would simply have to chatter and detain him somehow, hoping his manners were sufficient that he would not rise while she was speaking.

She took a breath and began, not intending to fall silent before Fanny and her ward arrived.

Joshua had forgotten how some women felt compelled to fill a silence with idle chatter. He had not expected Lady Haynesdale to do as much but perhaps she was lonely in the absence of her son. She began to speak hurriedly, and he listened with some reluctance. He could not cause offense, though he wondered whether there was a way to guide the discussion.

Truly, the dowager duchess spoke with the fury of a spring river and he doubted anything could change the course of whatever she desired to say.

"It is so long since our paths have crossed," she said with a smile. Truly, she must have been a beauty in her youth and still she was an attractive woman. "Perhaps you are unaware that my daughter, Eliza, recently wed Captain Nicholas Emerson, who served alongside Damien in Spain? Were you at all acquainted with him when he lived at Southpoint as a boy?"

Joshua shook his head. "Only slightly."

"Well then, you may not recall his skill with horses," she said. "Captain Emerson always had a touch with horses, my son has assured me as much."

"I do." Joshua strove to make some contribution to the conversation. "He had a fine stallion, I recall, of stock from Haynesdale perhaps?"

"Yes! He has begun to breed horses at Southpoint, with Damien's encouragement, and perhaps that will be of interest to you. Gentlemen are so often interested in horses and knowing of good stock."

Joshua nodded politely.

"I am hoping that you will take pity upon me, sir," the dowager said with another charming smile. "I have been in town of late and am desperate for local news. I do not suppose you might indulge me?"

What was this? "How so, Lady Haynesdale?"

Her smile broadened. "I do have weddings in mind this spring, to be sure, given my daughter's recent and happy union. May I be so bold as to ask whether you have become betrothed since we last met?"

Perhaps assistance for his plan was closer than Joshua had realized. "Not I."

"Even though you have inherited the title?"

"It has been less than two months, Lady Haynesdale."

"Of course, you are still in mourning, and there must be many details to attend."

Joshua nodded.

She smiled again. "Dare I ask if a particular lady has claimed your attention?"

Joshua smiled. "Do you mean to contrive a match for me, Lady Haynesdale?"

"I would not be so bold, of course." She smiled at him and he was not convinced of her claim. "Your arrival is most timely this day as I would like to ask for your assistance."

He inclined his head. "I am at your service."

"Lord Addersley, you almost make me wish I had another daughter of eligible age."

"You are kind, Lady Haynesdale."

"An acquaintance of mine has recently arrived in the area and will be visiting today. I fear that her niece, who is Captain Emerson's younger sister and my friend's ward, must be disappointed in Haynesdale after the activities of London. To that end, I am planning a ball in less than a fortnight and do hope you will attend."

Joshua felt his brows rise. "A ball to entertain the ward of a friend? That is most generous, Lady Haynesdale." Who was this young lady and why did the duchess wish to see her attached? Joshua was intrigued.

His hostess leaned forward, and he watched her cheeks flush slightly, as if she had been caught. "But the young lady is lovely. I must ensure that her dance card is full, lest she find my hospitality lacking, yet I had forgotten how few gentlemen there are in the vicinity who dance well."

"I do not dance, Lady Constance." He spoke firmly and set down the cup. His pledge to his father was uppermost in his thoughts and he would not break it so readily as this.

"Nonsense! I recall your tutor well." She shook a finger at him, her tone teasing, not allowing him a chance to speak. "I will not have your refusal, sir," she said, pretending to be stern. "Will you not at least meet Miss Emerson before you decide?"

Joshua blinked. "You do strive to make a match, Lady Constance," he accused softly, guessing the reason was less about his own prospects than those of the duke. "Does this young lady have a tendre for your son?"

The dowager's cheeks flamed. "I could not speak as to her interest," she began, though Joshua sensed that was not the case. The young lady aspired to wed Haynesdale but his mother did not approve. Why not?

Did it matter? He would not welcome Haynesdale's leavings, simply to suit the dowager duchess's plans. He could be insulted by being deemed to be merely useful and set down his cup, mustering his refusal.

But there was an audible flurry of activity from the foyer, much to his hostess' visible relief. "Why, they have arrived and you can make their acquaintance in advance of the ball. How perfect an opportunity!"

Joshua stood and spoke with resolve. "Lady Constance, I remind you that your son is most capable in evading the aspirations of even the most ambitious of young ladies." He reached for his hat. Why did some women persist in striving to orchestrate the situations of others? It was a kind of meddling Joshua could not admire…

The door was opened in that moment and the newly arrived guests announced. Joshua glanced up, then could only stare in silence.

If he had believed in kismet, fate or other such frippery, Joshua might have concluded his alliance with this young lady was meant to be. No sooner had he realized he had need of a bride and despaired of finding one without returning to London, than the perfect young lady stepped into his presence.

Her hair was as dark as a raven's wing and her eyes were blue. They sparkled with an enthusiasm for life that could not be disguised and her step was spritely. She wore a white gown with blue embroidery upon the hem and a wide ribbon of sapphire blue at the high waist. Her spencer was black velvet, and altogether she was a most appealing sight. She was so delicately built that he could have easily carried her all the way back to Addersley Manor. Better yet, she bore absolutely no resemblance to Charlotte Havilland.

He might have conjured her by will.

He blinked, averted his gaze with an effort, and cast Lady Haynesdale a glance.

The dowager smiled at him, triumphant.

But her success was not yet complete. What trait was lacking in the lady? Was she witless or foolish? Joshua watched her gaze rove over the drawing room, as if she had plans to change it all, and guessed that her ambitions were as suspected. What made her unsuitable for Haynesdale in his mother's view? Was it only her open ambition?

Joshua put down his hat, determined to find out.

"Oh, but Constance, you have a guest!" the older lady protested.

"Of course, you cannot have met. Our neighbor, Lord Addersley, seventh Viscount of Addersley," Lady Haynesdale said. "My lord, Lady Dalhousie and her niece, Miss Helena Emerson."

"Ladies," Joshua Hargood said smoothly and bowed as he took Helena's hand. She was as tiny and perfect as a fairy maiden.

Joshua saw absolutely no reason to depart from Haynesdale House with haste.

There was a riddle to solve.

Of course, he would have another cup of tea.