Lara Temple - The Reluctant Viscount

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The rake’s returnA decade ago, wallflower Alyssa Drake’s heart broke when Adam Alistair was banished from Mowbray. Now, he’s back – wealthy, titled, and more cynical than before! And Alyssa’s determined not to fall under this notorious rake’s spell ever again…Reluctant viscount Adam knows only betrayal. But Alyssa proves herself an unexpected ally when he finds his life endangered, and they are forced into a sham engagement. Their betrothal may be fake, but there’s no denying the very real passion that explodes between them!

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But Adam was watching a new couple entering the ballroom. Mr Figgs, the Master of the Pump Rooms, was short and round, with an amiable smile and an impressive head of springy white hair. He was walking proudly beside a woman whose entrance was causing quite as much of a sensation as Rowena’s audacious waylaying of Adam. The new arrival glanced around the room insouciantly, and when her eyes skimmed past Adam and Nicholas, the hint of a smile played about her generous mouth, but her eyes did not linger.

‘I don’t think that is a good idea, Rowena,’ Adam said casually. ‘It was nice to see you again, though.’ He smiled down at her, bowed and moved on. The buzzing around them increased.

Adam found a good vantage point midway through the Assembly Room and he and Nicholas stopped to watch. Ginnie was easy to spot in her dramatic red gown and the diamonds he had provided shimmered as much as the extravagant chandeliers above them. Mr Figgs had introduced her to a serious-looking man Adam vaguely remembered as one of the landowners out by Cumnor. The man looked surprised but not displeased to find himself leading such a dazzling stranger on to the dance floor.

Nicholas glanced over at Adam.

‘You’ve set the fox amongst the hens now, man,’ he said, shaking his head ruefully, and Adam smiled but didn’t answer.

‘Here, isn’t that your pretty tree-climber? What was her name again?’ Nicholas indicated another dancing couple that had come into view and Adam turned.

‘Miss Drake.’

‘She is a pretty thing. And the best dancer here. Introduce me later, will you? I wouldn’t mind seeing those eyes up close.’

‘Don’t be a fool, Nick. I told you she’s not flirtation material. She’s as proper as they come.’

‘Devil a bit. That just ups the stakes. Where’s Percy?’

‘What? Oh. Over to the right, talking with Mr Figgs.’

‘Well, he hasn’t changed much. Still the dandy. Now he’s giving you the evil eye.’

‘He’s furious with me for closing the Delacort purse. He seems to think that as my heir he is entitled to an allowance beyond his own income. I disabused him of that notion.’

‘A kind of advance on your demise? How touching of him. I suppose it must have been a disappointment that you survived. There is a certain irony to that—the last two Lord Delacorts succumb to the most mundane of illnesses and accidents and you endure environments which should by all rights have shaken you free of your mortal coils.’

Adam grinned. ‘That’s the second time you’ve abused Shakespeare in the past few days. Have you been brushing up on your reading behind my back?’

‘Not much else to do while you’re out repairing your predecessors’ damage to the estate. Now that we are making a foray into society I might find something or someone else to occupy me. Wait, look, Percy is on the move and has Mr Figgs in tow. This is almost too easy.’

They watched as the two men moved down the side of the hall, intercepting Ginnie and her dance partner as they stepped off the dance floor. Mr Figgs made the introductions, Percy bowed, smiled angelically and led Ginnie on to the floor to join the set forming for a country dance. Adam scanned the room. Miss Drake was standing by a rosewood sofa where Mrs Aldridge and Miss Aldridge were seated, the latter watching dismally as Percy took his place with the stunning stranger. Miss Drake herself was also watching the pair, her head slightly tilted to one side. Then she glanced down at Miss Aldridge and moved into her line of vision, blocking the dance floor from view.

Adam shook his head. He should have sent her a coin of Artemis, protectress of the vulnerable, rather than Clementia. Miss Drake persisted in trying to shield everyone around her. She took life far too seriously. Someone should teach her how to relax and enjoy herself. With Mr Figgs’s Rules of Conduct at the Assembly Room in mind, he headed leisurely in her direction.

* * *

Alyssa wished she was anywhere but where she was. The whole neighbourhood had been awash with talk once Mr Figgs had disclosed that the new Lord Delacort would be attending Thursday’s ball with his guest, Mr Beauvoir. Between that and talk of his accident, which everyone had bloodthirstily attributed to his notorious recklessness, Adam’s name had come up so often at each of the neighbourhood teas or visits Alyssa had attended with her aunt and cousin that she’d begun to wonder what they’d all spoken of before his return.

The worst had been at Lady Nesbit’s on Tuesday. Rowena had sat with a calculatedly pained look upon her beautiful face and hinted mournfully that Adam had clearly not recovered from his tendre for her, even after all these years. Alyssa had sat and fumed and wished again that he had never returned to Mowbray.

All this excitement reached fever pitch the moment he entered the Assembly Room. Alyssa waited with a sense of impending doom for something terrible to happen. When she saw Rowena approach him she held her breath along with the rest of those present. What followed was so anticlimactic Alyssa almost felt sorry for Rowena. It was worse than if he had snubbed her altogether. But to converse with her with apparent amicability and then move on to stand appreciatively viewing the dazzling widow who had arrived was possibly the worst combination he could have chosen as far as Rowena was concerned.

Alyssa tried to focus on her own concern, Mary, who was now gazing miserably at Percy as he talked animatedly with the lovely widow while leading her through the country dance. Alyssa sighed in frustration. She had still not come up with a plan to detach Mary from Percy. She knew her father would likely consent to any offer not overtly unsuitable. And as Adam had pointed out, Percy was suitable, at least on the surface.

Ever since Ivor had come into the Delacort title, Percy had acted as if he, and not Adam, was next in line. It had been clear that he had assumed, like many others, that Adam was unlikely to survive his exploits. It had not been an outlandish assumption. Even if one discounted many of the accounts of Adam’s escapades as exaggerated, there were protracted periods of silence which gave as much or more food for speculation. Certainly Percy could not be completely blamed for his presumptions. But however disappointed Percy might be, it didn’t mean he had any right to solve his problems by targeting Mary, not while Alyssa had a say in it, and furthermore...

‘Do you waltz?’

She blinked and turned. She had been so intent on the problem she hadn’t even noticed Adam had come to stand beside her.

‘Waltz?’

‘Waltz. The dance. Do you?’

‘I... Yes. But why?’

‘Mr Figgs’s Assembly Room rules state I have to try to make myself agreeable to the company present, by which I gathered he means squire wallflowers and converse with dowagers. So, I suppose if I am to be allowed to attend another dance I must do the pretty and invite some unfortunate maiden to dance. From the list he so helpfully provided I see the next dance is a waltz. Hence the invitation.’

She couldn’t help smiling. She was beginning to realise this man enjoyed being deliberately provoking.

‘How can I resist such a flattering invitation? Wait, I can. Go and find another wallflower. I am busy.’

‘I know, glaring at Percy is hard work. Take a rest. Ah, they are just about to start.’

He grasped her elbow firmly and gave her a little push in the direction of the dance floor, attracting the attention of her aunt and the group of matrons to her right. She caught the alarmed look on her aunt’s face and sighed inwardly. To break free now would attract more attention than to proceed.

‘Fine,’ she said grudgingly and saw the corners of his mouth quirk up in a smile. But he did not reply, just led her on to the dance floor and then, when they were in position, clasped her hand and placed his hand at her waist.

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