Page 1 of The Viscount's Forgery
PROLOGUE
Eugenia looked up at the painting, taking in the scene of a ship in a harbor, the countryside behind it. The depicted blustery wind seemed to blow right off the canvas and ruffle her hair, making her think rather highly of the artist’s skill. From what she could tell, it was not an artist who was well known, but that did not mean the work did not have merit! Tilting her head, she took in the color sweeping in from one side of the painting, the sunset streaming out across the water, making her smile as she imagined what it must have been like for the artist to paint, had he been outside.
“Eugenia!”
She turned her head, her elder sister coming scurrying out of the drawing room towards her. “Yes?”
“Whatever are you doing?”
Eugenia gestured to the painting. “I am looking at this painting.”
Her sister, Polly, rolled her eyes. “Eugenia, you ought to have returned from the retiring room without becoming so distracted. What will mother and father say, should they find you?”
This made Eugenia scowl. “They willnotfind me, not unless you say something to them. They are much too distracted by you and Lord Bothwell.”
This made Polly smile, but there was a glint in her eye that Eugenia did not much like. “Yes, I suppose they are. After all, Ihavemanaged to secure myself an excellent match, have I not?”
Eugenia’s heart twisted, but she kept a smile pinned to her face. “Yes, you have. Lord Bothwell is an exceptional gentleman.”
“And a Marquess with it,” Polly continued, with a sigh of evident contentment whilst the glimmer in her eyes remained, warning Eugenia to be careful. Polly had always been somewhat competitive, seeking to push herself to the fore and to make out that she was much more improved in every way than Eugenia. She had, on many an occasion, spoken very highly of herself to their mother and father, sometimes taking the credit for things Eugenia had done and then crying when Eugenia had exclaimed over it. Soon, Eugenia had learned to remain silent rather than argue, seeing that her parents were a good deal more favored towards Polly than towards her. In addition, she feared what Polly might say to their parents about her, should she displease Polly in any way. She had learned, through more than one painful experience, that her sister was not to be trusted.
“You have not yet found a husband, have you?”
Eugenia frowned. “You are the elder sister. You know that our parents decided you must wed first before I enter society properly. You will not criticize me for that, I hope.”
Polly laughed, but it was not a pleasant sound. “I do not think of criticizing you at all, Eugenia! Though Ishouldtell you that you will never find a good husband if you continue to be so… ridiculous.”
This made Eugenia’s hand curl, her heart beginning to pound as she tried not to respond to her sister’s teasing. “I am not ridiculous, Polly.”
“Oh yes, you are,” came the reply. “Look at you! We are here at Lord Bothwell’s estate, visiting his grand house and grounds, and you, rather than being in with the rest of us, are busy staring at some painting on the wall as if it is something more extraordinary than anything else!’
“You know very well that I like art,” Eugenia answered, heat rising in her face. “Why must you criticize me so?”
Polly leaned closer. “Oh, I know that you do enjoy looking at these paintings, but I also know that you are a good deal more well-read on the subject than you ought to be.” She stood up straight as a shiver ran down Eugenia’s spine. “Youareaware, are you not, that mother and father think your passion for this to be very foolish indeed? I should think they would be displeased should they be told just how much reading you have done on the subject… or just how much reading you do in general!”
Eugenia swallowed at the tightness in her throat to push it down. “I do not know what you are speaking of. Yes, I read a little on art and the like, but it is only to improve my own artistry.”
This made Polly scoff loudly, Eugenia’s face burning now. “Your attempts to paint are truly dire!” she exclaimed, as Eugenia closed her eyes for a few moments so she might catch her breath. “No, it is not because you have a passion for painting, Eugenia, is it? You read because you long to fill your heart and mind with as much knowledge and as much wisdom as possible! You want to know all there is to know about it, and want to be able to astonish us all with the depths of your knowledge. Is that not so?”
Eugenia lifted her chin, both hands in tight fists now. “No, that is quite incorrect.” Yes, she had done agreatdeal of readingand would be considered by many to be a bluestocking should they know of it, but it was certainlynotbecause she wanted to show off her knowledge on any subject to anyone! “I appreciate art for myself and myself alone.”
Her sister snorted. “As I have said, you are ridiculous. You will not gain a husband withthat,Eugenia. You cannot show off your awareness of the various techniques of particular artists and expect that the conversation will go well! You will be known as a bluestocking, and then all of society will reject you.” As she spoke, a smile slid across her face, making Eugenia’s anger begin to burn. “And what then?”
With a burst of ire burning through her chest, Eugenia threw up both hands. “What do you mean, what then? If I go to London and find that many gentlemen do not want an intelligent bride, then why should that trouble me? Not all gentlemen are the same, Polly. There will be some – many, no doubt – that value such a thing as intelligence, wisdom, and insight.”
“You are quite mistaken, I can assure you.” Her sister shook her head and sighed as if to suggest she was pained by Eugenia’s remarks. “You will not make a good impression upon anyone!”
A sudden movement over Polly’s shoulder alerted Eugenia to someone else’s presence. “Polly, that is quite enough.”
“No,Ishall tell you when it is enough,” Polly interrupted, her voice shrill now. “Do you not know what an embarrassment you are, Eugenia? I am mortified to have a sister such as you! You care more about looking at these paintings than you do about learning to dance! Instead of thinking about how you might impress the gentlemen of theton, you are far too busy reading as if that is going to impress the gentlemen of London.”
“Polly, I – ”
“You are never going to marry,” came the sharp, hard response that sent a wave of tears into Eugenia’s eyes. “Given how you are, I can promise you, there will be not a singlegentleman who is interested in your company. They will either think you foolish, as I do, or they will simply avoid you for fear of being dragged into a conversation they do not want to have! Do you truly think you will find a gentleman willing to accept every part of your character, to show an interest in whatyouenjoy doing? No, my dear Eugenia, they will run from you and you will be left a spinster, thrown on the care of father and mother until they reach their dotage, and then, who knows what will become of you?Icertainly shall not help you. The last thing I want is to have a spinster sister hanging onto my coat tails!”
“Polly!”
The shock in their mother’s voice had Polly spinning around on her heel, with Eugenia looking towards them also. To her utter horror, she saw not only her father and her mother but also Lord Bothwell, her sister’s betrothed.
