The Truth about the Viscount (Whispers of the Ton #4)

Prologue

Prologue

“ L ord Hastings? I must speak with you.”

Trying to recall the gentleman’s name, Daniel Spearton, Viscount Hastings frowned, gesturing to where his sister was just about to make her way into the ballroom, their mother by her side.

“I am just about to watch Isabella step out into society, might this conversation wait?”

Tilting his head, he took in the gentleman’s light frown, wishing that he could recall the gentleman’s title.

“It is about your sister, Lord Hastings.”

This gave Daniel pause. Earlier that day, Isabella had been presented to the King, and was now to enter her first ball of the Season, so what could have happened to make her of note to this gentleman?

“It is nothing to concern you, of course, only that I have to inform you of how captivated I have been by her beauty.” The gentleman smiled warmly, his brown eyes turning to where Isabella now waited. “The reason I come to you with such urgency is in the hope that she might have been granted permission to waltz? I should not like to ask her to do so, only to realize that she has not been given such a thing. It would bring her embarrassment, and I should like to spare her that.”

A little surprised at this request, Daniel’s eyebrows lifted.

“I – I have not yet given her permission, no.” Finally, the name of the gentleman came to him and Daniel frowned, remembering that the Earl of Newforth had not made the very best impression upon him during their introduction the previous year. Lord Newforth was loud, arrogant, and somewhat uncouth. Daniel was not at all certain that he wanted him near Isabella. “And, truth be told, I do not intend to give her permission for some time as yet.”

Lord Newforth’s face fell.

“That is disappointing.”

Daniel lifted his chin just a little.

“All the same, that is my decision.”

“And I quite understand.” Lord Newforth grinned and slapped Daniel on the shoulder in a manner that spoke of familiarity, though Daniel did not feel at all closely acquainted with the fellow. “Then I shall ask her for another dance, I think. Mayhap the polka, or the country dance.”

With a nod, he stepped away, leaving Daniel to narrow his eyes after him, reminding himself inwardly to warn Isabella to be cautious around Lord Newforth. There was something about the man that Daniel did not quite like, aside from his brashness. To pursue Isabella, to ask for the waltz from a young woman who was only just coming out, was much too forward in Daniel’s eyes, and that in itself, was reason enough for his sister to be careful.

“Hastings?” His mother called to him, and Daniel, pulling his gaze away from Lord Newforth, hurried to their side. “Your sister is waiting!”

“Yes, yes, I am well aware of that.” Offering Isabella his arm, he smiled at her, seeing the nervousness dancing in her expression. “You have nothing to concern yourself with, my dear. The audience with the King went very well and now, you are to make your debut! I am sure that the ton will think very highly of you.”

Isabella smiled at him, though it wobbled just a little.

“Thank you, brother.”

“Though you are not to think of matrimony this Season,” their mother reminded Isabella, making Daniel scowl. “You must remember that.”

Daniel opened his mouth to protest but then closed it again, stepping forward into the busy ballroom instead. It was a conversation that they had shared before, but Daniel had not succeeded in getting his mother to change her opinion. Isabella was merely to enjoy this Season, it seemed, rather than pursue any hope of matrimony – and this, despite Daniel’s insistence that it would be better for her to do quite the opposite!

“Oh, and I must ask you to be cautious around the Earl of Newforth, who will soon seek an introduction,” he murmured into his sister’s ear as they smiled and nodded to various acquaintances. “He appears to be quite fervent in his eagerness to meet you, but that does not mean that I think it wise.”

Isabella’s eyes rounded.

“Is there something wrong with his character?”

Daniel winced.

“Not that I can say specifically, my dear sister, but my heart warns me to be cautious there.”

Isabella nodded.

“Then I shall do as you ask, my dear brother,” she answered, taking a deep breath and then lifting her chin. “For I trust your judgment implicitly.”

“The answer is no.”

Daniel looked into Lord Newforth’s eyes, gritting his teeth as shock poured into the Earl’s expression.

“I – I beg your pardon?”

“No,” Daniel repeated, a good deal more firmly this time. “No, Lord Newforth, I will not permit you to court my sister.”

Lord Newforth blinked furiously, then pushed one hand through his hair. Clearly, this had not been the answer he was expecting from Daniel but, in the last fortnight, Daniel had found out a good deal more about Lord Newforth and his character, and he certainly was not about to let him court Isabella.

“I thought that we were well acquainted!” Lord Newforth flung up both hands as though he expected this to mean something to Daniel. “We have played cards together, have we not? Last evening, for example, we played for many an hour and–”

“And you owe me a great deal of money and instead, only gave me a vowel.” Daniel lifted an eyebrow and waited for Lord Newforth to say something in response to this, to perhaps confirm that he intended to pay the debt very soon but, instead, the man only ignored Daniel’s remark.

“You must know that my fervency regarding Isabella is genuine. In asking to court her, I have nothing on my mind but the intention to offer her my hand in marriage.” Lord Newforth began to frown now, his jaw tightening as Daniel looked away. “Is there some reason that you refuse to let me court her? It is most unusual for there to be such a direct answer.”

Daniel’s lip curled. This in itself was an impertinence, for Lord Newforth ought not to be asking Daniel such a question. This was a matter entirely between Daniel and his family and, thus, for Lord Newforth to demand such a thing was more than rude. Nor am I about to tell you the truth, Daniel thought to himself, sniffing and then lifting his chin.

“Lord Newforth, I have decided that my sister shall not even consider matrimony this Season.”

“Oh?” Lord Newforth’s eyes sharpened. “Why would a gentleman do such a thing?”

Anger shot through Daniel’s frame.

“Lord Newforth, it is not proper for you to ask me such a thing. Isabella is my sister and therefore, I have decided what is best for her, and I need not share my reasoning with you! All I am here to tell you is that your request to court her is not going to be accepted.”

“Then next Season?” Lord Newforth put both hands behind his back, a smile on his face that brought no light into his eyes. “You will let me court her next Season?”

All the more frustrated, Daniel shook his head.

“No, Lord Newforth. I will not.” The truth began to burn in his heart and threw itself up into his throat. “Lord Newforth, I have heard of, and now know of, your character and it is not one that would bring my sister any joy. In addition, I have been warned about your lack of consideration for others, your inclination towards gambling and, to be blunt, your desire to call upon ladies of the night with great frequency. That is not the sort of gentleman I would ever consider suitable for my sister.”

He watched as Lord Newforth’s chin began to lift, his eyes narrowing, a red flush beginning to spread up into his face.

“How dare you?” Lord Newforth took a step closer to Daniel, scarlet in his cheeks now. “There is more to my character than what you have stated!”

“But what I have said of you is true, all the same.” Unmoved, Daniel fought to keep his voice level, refusing to respond to Lord Newforth’s anger. “Now, if you will excuse me, Lord Newforth, this conversation is at an end.”

“No!” Lord Newforth shook one finger in Daniel’s face, his eyes like fire. “You cannot deny me!”

A little astonished at this statement, Daniel reared back, wondering if this was the first time that anyone had ever denied Lord Newforth something that he desired.

“I believe that I can,” he said, ringing the bell quickly so that the butler might open the door. “And I have. As I have said, Lord Newforth, it is time for you to take your leave. Good afternoon.”

What came as Lord Newforth’s answer was some furious breaths, a glaring of his eyes into Daniel’s, and a jaw which was gritted tight but, much to Daniel’s relief, he finally swung around and made his way to the now open door. The butler closed it quickly after him and Daniel, once more left alone, finally let himself slump down into a chair.

That was most unexpected.

Letting out a low whistle of surprise, Daniel blinked quickly, then rubbed one hand over his jaw. It was clear to him that he had made the right decision when it came to Lord Newforth’s intentions towards Isabella, and that was a great relief.

All Daniel could do now was pray that come the following Season, Lord Newforth would know not to try again, for Daniel had every intention of refusing him should he so much as glance in Isabella’s direction – and perhaps, next time, with even greater force than had been required today.

“You shall not have her,” he muttered aloud, as though Lord Newforth could hear him. “I promise you that, Newforth. You shall never succeed in your attempt to wed my sister.”