The Viscount

“Friends, eh?” It wasn’t as if anyone else would ever have him for a husband, given his family history. Or the reputation he’d made all on his own. And as for Lily, apparently she had already experienced the love of her life. Twice that luck would be too much for any woman—anyone at all, in fact—to expect.

If he agreed, he could certainly put the dowry to good use, invest it and see that the original capital remained hers while the interest went to support the estates and tenants for which they both would be responsible. His holdings would become hers in entirety when he passed on and eventually become her son’s since Guy would leave no progeny of his own.

This could prove a decent arrangement, he thought practically. Of course, he had no idea how much wealth was involved, but that hardly mattered at this point.

He was not going to do this. He should not.

But if he did, he could give up all these havey-cavey business dealings he had to manage here in Town. Damn, but he was weary of the subterfuge, the low forms of life he had to coddle or threaten for information. He could retire to the country. Be the gentleman his father would have wanted him to be. The man he had almost become before tragedy struck and forced him to use his wiles to keep solvent. For a while it had seemed challenging, adventurous, even at times great fun, but now….

No, he was not going to marry this woman. It would not do. He had managed by himself for too long to share his life with anyone.

Then he thought about the boy, thrust into such a vulnerable position by the title he had yet to grow into. Guy couldn’t deny he would probably enjoy being a parent. He thought he might like children and regretted he could never father any.

Hell, he felt half-child himself, still playing at Turks and Thieves in the dark of night with deadly playmates. He thought of Smarky, scourge of Spittalfield, and Bardy the Bold with his Saracen dagger and delight in death-dealing. Excellent reasons right there to tell Lily no. He could put her in danger by mere association with him.

But she was already immersed up to her neck in trouble, now wasn’t she? Who else of her acquaintances would fend off her enemies for her, if he didn’t agree to do it?

There was the woman herself, the biggest temptation of all. Lily had spirit, courage and a lively imagination. He could certainly do worse for himself and never any better, by his reckoning. But did he have the right…?

The imp could arouse him with only a smile and most likely realized this power. Aside from her unique and fascinating looks, there was something slightly wild and delicious about Lily, something he could not begin to describe, that tantalized him.

Her scent, sweet and undefinable, perhaps. Or her voice, dulcet of tone and faintly raspy. Seductive when she intended, compelling attention even when she did not. Definitely more than the sum of her lovely parts, Lily Upchurch Bradshaw was an original.

Despite that, he knew that he need not worry about falling in love with her. If ever there was a man safe from that sanguine emotion, it would be himself, considering the practice he’d had avoiding it. Love, to him, meant marriage, children and a future. His father’s madness precluded Guy marrying well. Until Lily.

There was that one almost overwhelming aspect of Lily that he hated to admit enticed him because it seemed unworthy, even salacious, to consider it. He shouldn’t, but he certainly did factor it into the equation.

The plain fact was that Guy had not tupped a woman these past nine years without the onus of accidental pregnancy looming over him like a threatening storm cloud. Freedom from that fear danced here within reach, daring him to reach out and embrace it. To embrace her.

Another woman had come to him asking for help less than a year before. Sara Ryan had been a beautiful woman. And in dire straits, too. Yet the idea of bedding her, much less marrying her, had never even occurred to him. Why would he even consider such a thing with this one? Well, she had asked, for one thing. And then there was that other benefit….

“You are considering it, aren’t you?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with the anticipation of victory.

As sheer flattery went, Guy could not help being affected by her enthusiasm for her plan. Even so…

“I am considering it very carefully,” he told her, “since one of us must give a thought to caution.”

One golden eyebrow rose. “The infamous Devil Duquesne, a cautious man?” she taunted. “Who would have thought it? Now your reputation will be thoroughly destroyed.”

Guy could hardly let that pass unremarked. “You do tempt me,” he finally said.

Lily sighed. “Enough to accept?”

Chapter Three

L ily wondered if he had been right about her clothing affecting her behavior. Whether it was freedom from the constraint of female apparel or pure desperation that prompted her aggression, Lily saw that she had shocked not only him, but also herself.

Here she had just proposed to the infamous Devil Duquesne, the man people whispered about, feared even, because he was reputed to be dangerous. He did private enquiries and settled disputes in ways that were often permanent, so they said. The government employed him to ferret out spies. Perhaps he was one himself.

Jonathan had loved gossip and had delighted her with all sorts of tidbits out of London whenever he had gone up on business. Well, she was testing this piece of his tittle-tattle, surely.

Duquesne’s eyes had narrowed, assessing her yet again, as if from a different angle. He smiled, a near smirk, but it did absolutely nothing to detract from his appeal. Slowly he nodded, his smile growing, as if he couldn’t contain it within that cloak of cynicism. Was he going to say yes? Would he really marry her?

Lily almost panicked, very nearly withdrew her bold idea for a solution. If she did marry Duquesne, she might create another whole set of problems.

“Doubts now, Lily?” he asked, crossing his arms and regarding her intently. He looked amused.

“No. None.” She would stand firm by her decision. If he would have her, if he would commit to the cause of her protection and that of her son, she’d be willing to wed the devil himself. If that was trading her body and her fortune, so be it.

“If I say yes, you should know that I would expect something from you other than money,” he told her.

She was well aware of what that would be, of course, but she had already offered that on a silver platter. “I know.”

“Besides that,” he said, his expression now rather serious. “If I should…in the future, fall victim to my father’s malady, I should expect you to keep me…at home. My home, of course, not yours. That is, if you could possibly arrange it.”

Lily softened inside, her heart going out to him on the instant. “Oh, most assuredly, Guy. I would never, never consign you to…” She cast about for a nice word for the terrifying place she had just escaped.

He shifted as if highly uncomfortable in speaking of this. His gaze rested on the floor between them. “I considered placing my father at Plympton. It is close to home, privately run and not as bad as one might expect, but I simply could not bring myself to do it, to uproot him from his familiar surroundings. You see, though he’s not the man he once was, he has moments, even days, when he functions quite normally.”

“Plympton? They mentioned that, Guy! Tonight I heard that name. They were planning to move me there. Where is it?”

He unfolded his arms and braced them on the edge of the desk as he looked up at her. “Roughly twenty miles or so from Edgefield to the north. The old mansion Lord Younger sold off some years ago.”

She knew of it, but had not known it was now used as an asylum. “I see. That puts proof to the fact that Clive must be behind this scheme against me, then. It is also near Sylvana Hall, as you know. Once I was certified insane, he could keep watch and perhaps continue drugging me if I were at Plympton.”

He nodded. “So, could you agree to this condition? You would, of course, hire a man who would see to my needs and ensure I would be no danger to anyone should the worst happen. You could live wherever you chose.”

Unable to help herself, Lily approached him and touched his face, much as she would Beau if he were this troubled. “Oh, Guy, you speak as if this is a definite thing for you to dread.”

He covered her hand with his, a light contact recognizing her gesture. “It is a possibility we must address, Lily. As yet, I’ve suffered no symptoms akin to my father’s and I hope I never shall, but I want you aware of what might happen in future. It is wise to plan for all contingencies, don’t you think?”

Lily closed her eyes and pressed her lips together, unable to imagine this man incapacitated in any way, especially with regard to his mind. She nodded. “I agree. If you will look after me and my son, I give you my word I shall move heaven and earth to follow your wishes in this.” She looked up at him so that he could see she was sincere. “Guy, I will do it anyway. Whether you want me as a wife or not. I shall do it as your friend.”

Never had she seen such an expression of relief. And something approaching awe. He cradled her face with both his hands and lowered his lips to her forehead. His mouth felt warm against her skin and very gentle.

Then he pulled back and searched her eyes with his. “This is a terrible risk you’re taking, Lily. You don’t really know me. You cannot know all I have done or am capable of doing.”

She sighed and rested her palms on his chest, feeling the warmth, the beat of his heart, through the rich, worn fabric. “I know that you are compassionate with regard to your father. I know that you listen to me and truly hear what I say. And while you do have a reputation for ruthlessness—” she smiled at his surprise “—a ruthless man is precisely what I need.”

His small laugh was self-deprecating as he shook his head. “What gods do you suppose have thrown us together tonight? Ours will likely be a match made in hell.”

She straightened, grasping the lapels of his robe. “Then you will do it?”

He dropped a kiss on her lips, just a brief, perfunctory touch borne of camaraderie, it seemed. His voice was light and full of mischief. “Of course I will do it. I’d be a complete fool to refuse such a deal.”

Lily felt unaccountably lighthearted, considering the weighty matter at hand. “Excellent!” She backed away from him, a bit self-consciously, breaking his contact with her face and hers with his chest. It was devilishly hard to think when they were touching.

He pushed forward from the desk where he’d been leaning and began to shuck off his robe. “Then we had best get to it. We’ll need a special license, back-dated, of course.” He spoke as if to himself now. “Justice Jelf will get that, for a hefty fee.” All the while, he was donning a jacket that had hung over the back of a straight chair by the door.