Rescued by the Viscount

‘As well a girl with spirit as one with only milk and water in her veins,’ Jack murmured softly.

‘I shall be honest with you, Charlotte. Left to myself, I would not bother with marriage at all, for I have no great opinion of it, but my grandfather needs me to provide him with an heir. I am very fond of him and minded to oblige him. You need a fortune to clear your father’s debts and give your brother a good start in life—why not mine as well as any other’s?’

Charlotte digested this in silence for a moment, then looked at him hard. He had brought the curricle to a halt and was looking at her expectantly. He knew the truth, for she had hidden nothing, yet she still felt that he could not have considered fully.

Honesty made her speak out. ‘But surely … there must be a girl more suited to the honour of being your wife and the future Marchioness. Why me?’

‘Since I am being honest, I have no idea—but I think it is because you amuse me.’

AUTHOR NOTE

This is an adventurous story of a brave girl and an out-wardly cool and aloof hero. Jack Delsey can be charming, but can any woman really touch his heart or is it too thickly encased in ice? Charlotte is reckless, but brave, and determined to save her brother from shame. Her escapade leads her straight into the arms of a man whom she knows to be a rake. No sensible girl would give her heart to such a man, but Jack is looking for a lady to be the mother of his heirs, and Charlotte is in danger of being exposed to scandal and ruin …

My readers will know that I like to combine adventure with passionate love stories, and this book has one or two other characters begging for books of their own. I hope to oblige them and my readers by giving them exciting stories. I very much enjoy writing these tales of a bygone time when ladies ought to be fragile creatures but never are, and gentlemen are both heroes and rascals. My hope is that my readers will find these stories well worth reading.

You may contact me at: www.lindasole.co.uk

Rescued

by the Viscount

Anne Herries

www.millsandboon.co.uk

DEDICATION

I dedicate this book to my husband, without whose love and understanding none of my books could ever have been written.

ANNE HERRIES lives in Cambridgeshire, where she is fond of watching wildlife and spoils the birds and squirrels that are frequent visitors to her garden. Anne loves to write about the beauty of nature, and sometimes puts a little into her books, although they are mostly about love and romance. She writes for her own enjoyment, and to give pleasure to her readers. Anne is a winner of the Romantic Novelists’ Association Romance Prize. She invites readers to contact her on her website: www.lindasole.co.uk

Contents

Cover

Introduction

AUTHOR NOTE

Title Page

DEDICATION

About the Author

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

‘No, Mama,’ Charlotte Stevens cried in dismay. ‘Please do not expect such a thing of me—to marry without love for the sake of a fortune...’ She stared at her mother, tears welling, but too proud to let them fall. Charlotte was a pretty girl, diminutive, being no more than five feet and three inches, but her large expressive eyes and her unquenchable spirit made up for her lack of height. ‘How could you ask it of me?’

‘Because there is little choice left to me,’ Lady Stevens said. ‘Your father is close to ruin and if you do not oblige us by making a splendid marriage, we shall lose everything.’

‘Yes, I see...’ Charlotte banished her desire to scream and shout, because she loved Papa dearly and could not bear to think he was in so much trouble. ‘Who have you selected for me to marry?’ She lifted her head, determined to be brave and face whatever terrible fate awaited her.

‘It is not that desperate just yet,’ Mama told her with a determined smile. ‘Fortunately, I have some money put by for you to have a Season in town. You are very lovely, Charlotte. I am convinced that more than one gentleman will be prompted to offer for you—and you may choose for yourself, provided that your choice is in a position to assist your family.’

‘Yes, I see,’ Charlotte said, her spirits lifting a little. At least she was to be given a little freedom before she was thrown to the lions! ‘Well, Mama, I see that there is no choice and I promise that I shall do my best to oblige you.’

‘If only your aunt had not sold her best jewels and replaced them with fakes,’ Mama said wistfully. ‘Your uncle was so kind as to leave them to you, but I’m sure he had no idea that the best diamonds and the rubies, to say nothing of the emeralds and sapphires...all fakes, and only a few paltry trinkets left that are worth little more than a few pounds...’

‘I would gladly sell them if they would help Papa.’

‘Unfortunately, his debts run to at least twenty thousand pounds,’ Mama said, a note of distress in her voice. ‘Even if you sold everything, you could raise no more than a thousand or so. I see nothing else for it, my love—you must marry a fortune.’

Charlotte turned away to look out of the parlour window at the gardens behind her father’s house. Mama loved her home and it would break her heart to be forced to leave it—and Matt would have little chance of marrying well if they were ruined. Her love for her father, brother and Mama was too strong for Charlotte to think of rebelling. She knew that she must do her duty. All she could hope was that she would find a rich man who was not too fat or too old, whom she could respect, even if she could not love him.

Sighing, she turned to Mama with a smile. ‘I shall do my best to oblige you and Papa, but I cannot promise that anyone will fall in love with me enough to ask for my hand.’

‘Some gentlemen do not look for love in marriage,’ Mama said. ‘They wish for a comfortable arrangement with a girl of good family that will provide children—and, once the heir is secure, they take their pleasures elsewhere. After you have given your husband at least one son, but preferably two—it is always wise to have a spare, you know—he will no doubt leave you to do much as you please.’

‘Do all men behave in that manner, Mama?’ Charlotte asked innocently. ‘Are they never faithful? I thought perhaps if one loved one’s husband...’

‘Perhaps there are some that remain faithful,’ Mama allowed. ‘Indeed, I hope that you will find such a man—but you must not look for it, Charlotte. The most you can expect is a comfortable home and a life spent enjoying your children and entertaining your friends.’

‘Oh, I see.’ Charlotte turned back to gazing out of the window. It seemed that all her dreams of love and romance were a girl’s foolishness and nothing more.

‘Well, I can only hope you will be sensible,’ Mama said. ‘I have been honest with you, Charlotte. Papa has taken a house in Berkeley Square. It is very expensive, even for just a few weeks, my love, so you must make the most of your chances—because if you fail...’ A little shudder ran through Lady Stevens. ‘Well, we shall not consider that eventuality. I have always thought you a remarkable girl and I am certain you will not let us down.’

Charlotte crossed her fingers behind her back. She could only hope that her mother’s faith in her was not misplaced. Somehow she must forget her dreams of the tall dark stranger, who would sweep her off her feet and fall desperately in love with her, and make up her mind to accept someone with whom she might make a comfortable life.

Chapter One

‘Well, sir, what have you to say for yourself?’ The Marquis of Ellington’s thick grey brows met in a ferocious scowl that would throw fear into the hearts of most men, but merely brought a smile to his grandson’s mouth. ‘Damn it, Jack, can you never be serious? This is important. You know you will have to step into my shoes one day, boy. You should consider setting up your nursery.’

‘Certainly, sir.’ Captain Viscount Delsey’s smile flashed out at him. A handsome man, tall, strongly built with good shoulders and legs, dark hair and deep-grey eyes, he had been more or less master of his own fortune since his father died when he was but seventeen, leaving him to the care of his mother, Lady Daisy, and his grandfather. ‘I am willing to consider whatever you wish—but you know my opinion on marriage...’

‘How many times must I tell you that marriage is a duty that need not interfere with your pleasures? A girl properly brought up and from a decent family will give you the heirs you require without any fuss and bother about love or fidelity. She will understand that a man has his own concerns and confine herself to caring for her children and her home.’

‘How perfectly awful for the young woman in question,’ Jack murmured softly, but his grandfather’s hearing was as acute as ever.

‘A lady understands these things,’ the marquis growled. ‘If your sense of what is right is so nice, then you must find a young lady who will fulfill all your needs.’

‘Ah, but where is such a lady to be found?’ Jack teased. ‘Where is the beauty that can tame the rake’s heart and make it hers? I will make you a promise, Grandfather. If I ever find such a young woman, I will marry her whatever walk of life she comes from—and then I shall settle down and be the family man you all want me to be.’

The marquis sighed and shook his head, a scowl settling on his noble brow. ‘You will be the death of me, sir. I forbid you to bring a woman of ill repute into this family.’

‘How can you think that I would do such a thing?’ Jack pulled a mocking face of dismay. ‘Do you imagine I spend all my time with such barques of frailty?’

‘From what the gossips say you have been through a string of opera dancers and the like in the past year or so! It is time you thought about your family—about me. I have done my best for you, in all conscience—could you not give some thought to the idea of finding a wife?’

‘You should not listen to Mama, sir,’ Jack said. ‘She spends too much time with Aunt Seraphina, and she has the gossip from my cousin Reginald. Now honestly—would you wish me to be like your nephew Reginald?’

‘No, I should not. The man is a prosy fool.’ The marquis exploded with wrath. ‘Jack, why will you tease me so? You know I think the world of you, boy. I am proud of you—of what you achieved in the army, even though I did not wish you to go to war—but I cannot live for ever and it means a great deal to me to see your first son: my heir. God forbid that Reginald should have a son to inherit the estate.’

‘Yes, that would be very bad,’ Jack said thoughtfully. ‘I should not like to think of Reginald stepping into your shoes—though I must say I have no intention of dying for many years yet.’

‘Your father’s accident was sudden and unexpected.’ A look of sudden deep and hurtful sadness flashed into the old man’s eyes.

Jack’s mirth was sobered instantly. ‘Yes, sir, forgive me. I do not mean to upset you.’

‘Then...to please me?’

‘You want me to visit Mama’s cousin Lord Sopworth and inspect his daughter Celia?’ Jack’s brows met in a frown and at that moment the likeness between the two men was very marked. ‘Very well, sir. I shall accept Uncle Gerald’s invitation, but I make no promises. I dare say the young lady is all that you promise—but marriage without love, or at least a deep affection and respect, leads only to unhappiness. You have only to remember what it was like for my father and mother.’

‘That was unfortunate,’ his grandfather admitted. ‘Your father was a selfish man—he inherited that trait from his mother—and I fear he made your dear mama suffer. I am very fond of Lady Daisy. I thank God that you have her sweet nature, though you also get your stubbornness from me.’

‘I shall pay my uncle a visit,’ Jack acquiesced, ‘but I do not promise to make Celia an offer, unless she suits me. Now, if there is nothing more, sir, I am committed to some friends for this evening. I must go home and change.’

‘I had hoped you might dine with us?’

‘Not this evening, sir. Perhaps tomorrow, before you return to the country.’

‘Very well. And when will you leave for Cambridgeshire?’

‘At the end of next week. I have engagements until then—and I must give my uncle time to prepare.’

‘I shall see you tomorrow, then, Jack.’

‘I shall look forward to it.’

* * *

Leaving his grandfather’s study, Jack walked in leisurely fashion from the house, stopping in the magnificent hall to exchange a few words first with the marquis’s valet and then with Pearson, the butler who had served at Ellington House for as long as he could recall. His grandfather’s servants had been eager to tell him that the marquis had called the doctor on two separate occasions recently. Indeed, it was the reason he had come to London for a few weeks’ stay, preferring his home deep in the Sussex countryside to the bustle of town.

‘I know the master would never dream of troubling you,’ Pearson told him, ‘but he is not as well as I should like, Captain Delsey, and that is the truth.’

‘Do you know what the trouble was?’ he asked of the valet.

‘It’s his heart, sir. Nothing too serious yet, I understand, but he’s been warned to cut down on his port and cigars—and to take things more easily.’

Jack thanked them both for confiding in him. His grandfather had said nothing of the doctor’s visits, but it explained why he had been summoned and lectured on the subject of marriage once more. However, the valet and butler had alarmed him with their tales, for Jack was sincerely fond of his grandfather and did not wish to distress him more than need be.

The marquis had never interfered unnecessarily in Jack’s life. When he’d left college, Ellington had introduced him into society, put him up for his clubs and given him the name of his tailor. After that, he’d pretty much left him to his own devices, merely asking him to consider carefully when he announced that he was taking up a commission in the army. War had been looming at that time and Jack spent some years away fighting under Wellington’s command. The friendships he’d made then formed the basis of his circle now, and consisted of some six gentlemen he felt bound to as brothers, though he had countless acquaintances for he was a popular man—both with the gentlemen and the ladies, which accounted for the gossip concerning his affairs.

The viscount was a catch and more than one pretty young woman had tried to enchant him, but although he was happy to indulge them with a dance or a light flirtation, none could say that he gave them reason to hope. He spent more time flirting with the matrons than their daughters, and more than one thought of Jack Delsey as she lay next to a snoring husband and wished that the young viscount was in her bed rather than the man lying next to her.

Jack had been home from the war for more than a year now, spending his time much as every other wealthy young man of fashion, visiting his clubs, placing bets at Tattersall’s or Newmarket and taking pride in his stables. His pistols came from Manton’s; he wore coats made by Scott or Weston, and his boots shone like silk. Jack’s cravats were always neat and freshly starched, but he wore them in a simple fashion rather than in the complicated folds and frills of the dandy set. He was happiest when exercising his horses or fencing with friends, or popping a hit over the guard of Gentleman George, a pugilist whose salon he visited now and then to keep in shape. In short, he was what society was pleased to call a Corinthian and idolised by most of the young bloods. To call him a rake was unfair, though if all the fluttering one direct glance from those compelling eyes aroused in a myriad of female breasts was taken into account, his reputation was deserved to a point. Without meaning to, his careless dalliance had sent more than one lady into a swoon, leaving a trail of wounded hearts when his casual flirting came to naught.

His grandfather had, though, exaggerated the number of mistresses Jack had kept over the past few years. During his service in the army, he had found some of the beautiful Spanish girls much to his taste. Like his friends, he had taken his pleasure where he could, knowing that each day might be his last, but the camp followers had been girls of a lower class and none of them had ever touched Jack’s heart.

There had been three ladies with whom he had shared intimate relations since then, one of them a married lady whose husband was thirty years her senior and more interested in his port than his wife, the other two opera dancers. Jack’s current light o’ love was very beautiful, but also very greedy, and he suspected unfaithful. He believed she had other lovers despite their arrangement, and it was in his mind that he would tell Lucy it was over before he went down to the country.

Jack supposed that he ought to think seriously of marriage. He was seven and twenty and he’d been his own master for ten years, for though his fortune had been in trust for four years the allowance was so generous that he had never been in danger of finding himself in debt. Since coming into his capital, he’d made several improvements to his estate and to the investment of his funds. His fortune was sufficient to support a family with no alteration to his way of life, other than on a personal level. Indeed, some jealous folk had been known to complain that he had far more money than was good for him.

The trouble was that he enjoyed his life and saw no reason to change it. As a single man he need consider no one else’s feelings very much. The obligatory visit to his mama and his grandfather in the country every few weeks or so cost him little and he was free to take off to stay with a friend, visit Newmarket or Bath, or attend a mill at the drop of a hat. Some would say that marriage need change very little in his life, but Jack could recall seeing his mama in tears when she was left alone in the country with a small son and her husband was off enjoying himself in town. He imagined that his dislike of the idea of marriage had grown in him over the years, triggered by an incident when he was seventeen, and as yet he had not met a lady who was beautiful or generous enough to overcome that dislike.

His father had indeed been a selfish man. Jack wondered if he had inherited the trait, for he was rather inclined to go off without informing his family that he would be out of town and unreachable for a few days. He knew that Mama sometimes worried about him, though the marquis said she was a fusspot, and perhaps she was. It would have been much better had Jack not been an only child, but for some reason there had been no more babies in that unfortunate marriage.

Sighing, Jack put his troubled thoughts to rest. He was engaged with friends for the evening and it would not do to be caught up by a problem he was not sure he could solve.

Marriage to a woman he could not like or admire would be worse than a living death. Perhaps it was not strictly necessary to fall in love, but as yet he had not met a young lady that made him want to see her every day, let alone protect her and cherish her for the rest of his life.

* * *

‘Have you seen the latest heiress?’ Lieutenant Peter Phipps asked of Jack when they met at the club, where they were engaged to dine with three of their friends. ‘Cynthia Langton has everything—beauty, wit and money.’

‘Really? A veritable goddess,’ Jack quizzed, one brow arched in mockery. ‘Going to have a tilt at her, Phipps old fellow? Run aground again?’

Phipps shook his head, a wry smile on his mouth. ‘Not yet, Jack. I had a run of luck last month and I’m just managing to hold my head above water. Not that she would look at me even if I had hopes in that direction. She may be beautiful and rich, but she’s like an iceberg—so proud and cold. I imagine she’s after a marquis or an earl at least...’

‘A bit above your touch, then, and mine,’ Jack quipped. ‘Never mind, there’s always the Dumpling. If you really fall into the suds, she would have you like a shot.’

‘Cruel, and unworthy of you,’ Phipps said. ‘I rather like Miss Amanda, she’s got a warm heart, even if she is a little on the dumpy side.’

‘Well, then, your problem is solved,’ Jack murmured wickedly. ‘You have only to crook your little finger and she will fall into your arms—if they are strong enough to catch her.’

‘Really Jack, that’s a bit strong,’ his friend said and frowned. ‘She cannot help being short and she likes sweet things...which I do myself, but I never seem to put on weight.’

‘You are a regular lanky boy. You should wed her because you’re all bones while she is an armful of delicious flesh... Oh, I’m merely jesting,’ Jack replied as he saw that Phipps was annoyed. ‘I think Amanda Hamilton is a pleasant young woman and will no doubt make a loving wife. Just the sort of young lady my grandfather thinks would suit me if his hints this afternoon are anything to go by.’

‘So that’s why you’re in a bad mood this evening.’ Phipps smiled, clapping him on the shoulder. ‘I know how you feel, old chap. Pater had a go at me last time I went down to the estate—told me that he had bailed me out for the final time and it was up to me to find an heiress.’

‘Duty calls us both, it seems, but do not let it spoil our evening. Here come the others.’

Jack turned to greet the three young men with a smile and a handshake. They had all five of them served on Wellington’s staff and, though two of them had recently become engaged, they were all still single and could enjoy a night at the club drinking and playing cards.

‘How are you, Jack?’ Malcolm Seers asked, shaking his hand with a firm grip. ‘This is my last evening in town before I go down to the country. Please congratulate me, I have just become engaged to Miss Willow.’

‘Jane Willow?’ Jack asked and grinned, only half-mocking, because Miss Willow was one of the few young ladies in society that he actually liked. ‘So she accepted you at last? I thought it would not be long...’

‘She couldn’t make up her mind, but in the end I wore her down.’ Malcolm looked pleased with himself. ‘I’m the happiest man alive.’

‘Then I do congratulate you. I shall miss you when you disappear into the mists of matrimony, but I’m pleased for you.’

‘Oh, Jane wants to spend as much time as possible in town and you’re a favourite with her, Jack. We shall expect you to visit often when we are in the country.’

Jack murmured something appropriate, but knew it would not be the same once his friend married. Malcolm was a serious man and had been a dedicated soldier—and he would be as dedicated to his wife and family. They would still be friends, but things would be different...

Jack had a hunted feeling, as if he were being driven in a direction he did not wish to go. His grandfather had pushed him towards marriage and his friends were succumbing one by one to its lure—how long could Jack resist?