Page 72 of The Viscount's Code
“Can you hear anything?” Hope hissed, but Faith waved her hand away as she shushed her, leaning in so that her ear was flush against the keyhole of Lord Ashford’s study.
Inside, Anthony was meeting with her father. She already knew that she would marry him even if her father followed through on his original threats to the contrary. She would still far rather that he agree, for she had no wish to be separated from her family, although Faith had made it clear she wouldn’t listen to her father if he enforced such a rule.
“Lord Whitehall is telling Father that he would like to marry you,” Faith whispered, then paused, pressing her ear harder against the door. They had agreed that she would be the one to listen as she had always had better hearing than Hope. “Now he is telling him that he has proof his father was not a traitor, proof that he is going to bring forward to the proper authorities as soon as Lord Ferrington delivers it.”
Hope nodded, then saw Faith jump up when her eyes landed over Hope’s shoulder. Hope turned to find her mother standing on the staircase behind them, but she waved them back toward the door.
“Keep listening,” she instructed, and Hope and Faith exchanged a quick look of disbelief before Faith shrugged and did as her mother bade.
“Father is now saying that there are other gentlemen who have requested your hand, but that he was waiting to see if any might marry me first.” Faith snorted and rolled her eyes. “None would, of course.”
“Faith, do not say that. You—”
Faith waved away Hope’s attempts to placate her. “Not to worry,” she said. “I already knew this.”
Her eyes then widened considerably, and Hope and her mother both leaned in against the door, all of them wanting to hear what had so startled Faith.
“I love her,” Anthony’s voice could be heard now, loud and resounding. “No other man will ever love her as I do. Which means that I will treat her better than any other man and will provide her with anything she desires in life.”
There was a pause, and warmth spread through Hope’s entire chest. He had said the words to her, yes, but the fact that he was sharing them with her father meant something else entirely.
“You are sincere,” her father said, some surprise in his voice.
“Yes. I never say anything that I do not mean.”
“What do you love about her?” her father asked, and Faith crinkled her nose, as though surprised he would ask. Hope also didn’t quite believe it, but she was rather intrigued in Anthony’s answer.
“What is therenotto love about her?” Anthony said, more quietly now. “She is kind and considerate and puts everyone else before herself. She sees the good in every person and every situation. It can sometimes be difficult when she forgets about herself, but that is what I am there for. Well, me and Faith.”
Faith chuckled lowly at that.
“She cannot stand to see injustice done,” Anthony continued. “She makes me a better man. She loves with her entire heart. And she has more trust in her instincts than most other people I know.”
There was a pause. “You never mentioned her beauty,” her father said.
“Every other man wants her for her beauty and her lineage,” Anthony said. “My reasons for wanting her are for all of the other reasons that no one else sees.”
“You are sure that you can prove your father’s innocence?”
“Yes,” Anthony said.
“You will treat my daughter with the ultimate respect?”
“Yes,” Anthony repeated.
“I cannot believe that I am saying this, but you are a stubborn man, Whitehall, and my wife is a willful woman. She has made it very clear that our daughter’s happiness is of the utmost importance.”
Faith and Hope exchanged a look before turning to their mother, who nodded approvingly. Lord Embury continued, “I know when to give up a fight. As long as I know my daughter will not be married to a traitor, then I will approve your union. As long as she agrees.”
There was some humor in Anthony’s voice now. “I am nearly certain she will.”
They heard the rustling of fabric which was likely a handshake, and when footsteps and the tap of the cane Anthony had been using began toward the door, the three women scrambled back and away as quickly as they could.
“To the drawing room,” their mother hissed, and they madly dashed toward it, having just sat down and properly arranged their skirts in a tableau when Hope’s father and Anthony appeared.
Anthony looked at Hope knowingly, as though he was aware she had overheard the entirety of their conversation, but then his expression changed to a smile so loving that she nearly swooned right there at his feet.
“Hope,” her father said gruffly. “Lord Whitehall here would like to speak with you.”
