Page 20 of The Viscount's Code
With the women filling the carriage, Anthony and Lord Embury had elected to ride beside the carriage, which Anthony was particularly pleased about, of course, although he wasn’t about to confess his weakness to the earl.
Anthony was never one to strike up conversation at any time. He was not particularly inclined to do so with Lord Embury – not after the man had made it very clear that he had no wish for Anthony’s presence in his home. Embury was obviously not particularly enthralled with the idea of him working with his precious book, even if he had only been holding onto it until someone had come along to break the code.
Anthony had a feeling that if it hadn’t been for Hope, he would never have been given the opportunity to even look at it. He didn’t appreciate having to leave the books behind at Newfield Manor, although the earl had locked them away back in the desk and had assured him that they would be safe, that no one else would solve the desk’s code in the short time they were gone. Anthony wondered if he was, in his own way, giving him a compliment.
“How long do you suppose you will be staying at Newfield?” The earl asked him now, just as the town of Harwich came into view in front of them.
“My preference would be until I break the code,” Anthony said. “But I suppose it will also depend on my mother’s wishes.”
“Your mother is not the same woman she once was,” Lord Embury said, surprising Anthony. He would have supposed that such a topic of conversation would not be of interest to the earl.
“She has been through much ridicule at the hands of society,” Anthony said in clipped tones. “My father did all he could to shield her from it, but it is difficult to remain in good spirits when all of thetonspeaks your name only in gossip and biting remarks.”
“To be fair—”
“My father was not a traitor,” Anthony said before the earl could get any words out. “I know you do not believe it, but someday, I will prove it. For my family name.”
He waited for the earl to refute him, but instead the man only sighed heavily. “I hope for your mother’s sake that you are correct,” he said. “Lady Embury is a good woman, and she has always been a loyal friend to my wife. I understand that I have not been welcoming to you, but you must realize that I am doing so to protect my family. I have two daughters, both of marriageable age, and to have their names sullied could be disastrous for any prospects they might have.”
Anthony was silent for a moment, knowing that this was the very reason no nobleman would ever have interest in marrying a daughter to him – not even if it was thought he had compromised her.
Which was why it was easier to stay well away from any chance of being denied. The situation with Lady Hope had been an unpreventable anomaly.
Still, he couldn’t help the urge to prove himself – to this man and every other who no longer believed in the Davenport name nor the Whitehall title. He would show them all the man his father truly had been.
He just had to get through this blasted fair first.
CHAPTER8
This was madness.
Harwich had come into view at about the same time that the smell of the sea reached Anthony, beckoning him beyond. He actually would have enjoyed passing up the town altogether to look out over the harbour, but no, that was not their destination – instead, it was the monstrosity immediately before them.
On this side of Harwich, which Anthony guessed was normally a meadow grazing area, were now caravans and stalls and what he supposed were meant to be attractions of all sorts. If that wasn’t enough to convince him to run in the other direction, it was the number of people who were walking between the stalls. The closer they came, the more he could see what awaited him. Smells of roasting meats and nuts, sugary and savory, blended together to overtake the salt of the sea, while spectators were ogling both the food before them as well as the people and animals sitting on stools and behind the bars of cages.
Anthony looked over to see Hope’s head pop out of the carriage window, one hand on the bonnet that covered her light hair.
“Goodness,” he heard her say. “This is… something.”
He supposed, for Lady Hope, that was a rather critical comment.
They drove the carriage and horses to an opening on the near side of the fair. Their driver and footmen would remain with the animals and vehicle to make sure they were looked after and no one would thieve them while they were otherwise distracted – and Anthony had a feeling that they were at great risk here at this type of event, which attracted all kinds.
He passed over the reins of his horse before stepping toward the carriage and lifting up a hand for his mother, whose eyes were wide as she walked down the stairs and took the awaiting fair.
“If this is too many people for you, I understand,” he murmured, but she pressed her lips together and shook her head.
“It may be a lot of people, Anthony, but I don’t know any of them,” she said, the slightest of smiles lighting her face. “To them, I am just another face.”
“Very well,” he said, holding out an elbow for her, and the six of them began walking, the Newfield family in front of them.
Lady Embury kept turning her head to talk to his mother, and after the last “Sophia, do you see—” Lord Embury turned around to Anthony.
“Whitehall, why do we not let the ladies walk together?”
Anthony nodded as his mother joined Lady Embury up ahead. They walked in pairs in order to fit amongst the crowd, and Anthony soon found Lady Hope beside him.
She kept her head fixed straight in front of her, and he had the feeling that she was sore from their conversation the day before.
