Page 6 of Vanquished By A Viscount
“I am quite certain you will have gained yourself a reputation as a matchmaker in no time, my dear,” Charlie said, sliding an arm around his sister’s back and pulling her close so that he could peck her cheek.
He was startled to alertness once more as another figure emerged from the hall on the other side of the staircase. It wasn’t Gray, but Charlie’s disappointment was short-lived as Pettigrew broke into a smile at the sight of him.
“Lord Broxbourne.” Pettigrew extended a hand as he approached Charlie.
“Pettigrew,” Charlie greeted his friend heartily. As always when two members of The Brotherhood greeted each other outside of The Chameleon Club or other safe areas, they pretended cordial yet formal acquaintance. In fact, Charlie had swapped stories of nighttime conquests with Elias during any number of drunken evenings of laughter at the club, though the two of them had never indulged in each other that way. “It is good to see you again.”
“And you, my friend,” Pettigrew said, then stepped back to include Barbara in their conversation. “You never told me you had such a sweet and charming sister,” he said, excelling at exactly the right sort of polite conversation that the occasion required. “If I had known, I might have given Lord Felcourt competition in securing her hand.”
Charlie laughed, beyond grateful to have an ally for whatever might come in the following month.
“You would not have stood a chance, I’m afraid, Dr. Pettigrew,” Barbara said, all smiles and blushes, like the bride she was. “From the moment I met him at Cambridge whilst visiting my brother these many years ago, there has been no one for me but Lord Felcourt. Of course, I was a mere girl when we first met, but I fancied myself quite grown up when a man of such age and character agreed to correspond with me.”
“Is that so?” Pettigrew asked, sending Charlie a look as if to ask whether there had been any impropriety all those years ago.
“It is, but I can assure you, there was nothing but friendship between us for the first five years of our acquaintance at least,” Barbara answered before Charlie could. “In fact, I barely dared to dream that Lord Felcourt could ever think of me that way.”
“I see?” Pettigrew said, once again glancing to Charlie for answers.
“It was only after the late Lord Felcourt passed and I penned a letter of heartfelt condolence to Robert, that is, the current Lord Felcourt, that our correspondence turned into more,” Barbara said. “Robert says that I showed him more feeling than anyone else, and that our letters, which became quite frequent, were the greatest source of comfort and joy to him. We must have kept the postmen of southern England exceptionally busy with our almost daily correspondence for many months, but still, you must imagine my surprise when Robert, that is, LordFelcourt, arrived on my doorstep at Downham Manor to ask Charlie for my hand.”
Charlie remembered the moment well. He remembered his surprise and his dread at Gray’s brother’s arrival and the revelation that he and Barbara were far better acquainted than he could ever have dreamed. He’d questioned Robert about the attachment for a good three hours, putting the man through his paces and doing everything he could to dissuade Robert from making a hasty and ill-thought-out connection.
But in the end, Robert had convinced him of his genuine affection for Barbara, and there was no denying that his sister would be well-looked after by the entire Hawthorne family nor that she would shine once she grew into the role of Countess of Felcourt. The key factor determining Charlie’s eventual agreement to the marriage was Barbara’s sincere love for Robert, not to mention a bit of pleading for her happiness on her part. How could he deny his sister whatever her heart desired?
“I was delighted when Charlie agreed to the marriage for so many reasons,” Barbara continued. “Not least of which was the hope that my and Robert’s connection would bring Charlie and Robert’s brother Grayson back into accord with one another. They were such great friends all those years ago, you know, but they had some sort of falling out.”
The bottom dropped out of Charlie’s stomach. So much so that he subtly let go of his sister’s arm. Barbara knew that he and Gray had been close once, to be sure, but he had been unaware that she had any design in renewing their acquaintance. He desperately hoped that she did not fully understand the nature of their friendship, but for better or for worse, Barbara had discovered his nature years ago. Fortunately, she accepted him as he was without reservation.
“Has Mr. Hawthorne returned from the Continent?” Pettigrew asked subtly, sending Charlie a gently teasing look. Pettigrew, of course, knew all.
“He returned for the wedding in December and chose not to resume his travels,” Barbara said, completely innocent of the undercurrent. “Though I think I remember him mentioning something about setting off again someday soon.”
Charlie arched an eyebrow and his pulse sped up. Gray was thinking of leaving England again?
Any question he could have asked on that score was forgotten as a rather bouncy young woman with her blonde hair in fashionable ringlets around her face rushed into the room through the front door, a serious, matronly woman with sharp eyes following behind her.
“Oh! Dr. Pettigrew, there you are!” the young woman burst breathlessly at the sight of Pettigrew. “I told Mama you were inside and you see, Mama? I was right.”
“Lord save me,” Pettigrew murmured at Charlie’s side. He glanced around as if for escape, but it was too late. “Lady Eudora,” he said with a forced smile. “Can I offer you some sort of assistance?”
“Yes!” Lady Eudora burst. “I seem to have twisted my ankle while out walking near the forge with Mama. I was so hoping you could take a look at it to ascertain if I shall ever walk again.”
For his friend’s sake, Charlie fought not to laugh. Lady Eudora was no more lame than he was, but asking a physician to look at her ankle was as clever a marriage trap as Charlie could think of.
“Who have we here?” Lady Sandridge asked, eyeing Charlie up and down.
Before Barbara could make the introduction, Charlie looked the woman directly in the eye and said, “No.”
Fortunately for them both, the husband-hunting mama understood at once and nodded as Barbara took Charlie’s arm and said, “Allow me to introduce you to the kindest, sweetest, most wonderful brother a lady could ever have, my brother, Lord Charles Aspenden, Viscount Broxbourne.”
“Pity,” Lady Sandridge sighed, then curtsied to Charlie. “Lord Broxbourne,” she said.
“This is my dear friend, Lady Eudora Sandridge, and her mother, Lady Sandridge,” Barbara made the introduction with all the formality she likely thought a countess should possess.
“Lady Sandridge, Lady Eudora,” Charlie bowed to them politely.
“Lord Broxbourne.” Lady Eudora took a moment to bow with painful, studied formality to Charlie before returning her attention to Pettigrew. “I would so adore your attention,” she said, then stammered as she continued with, “for my ankle.”
