Winning the Viscount’s heart (Regency Romance) (Regency Lords Book 2) (3 page)

Lord William Blackwood was feeling rather irritated by the current state of affairs. He was standing on one of the outside balconies if Archester Manor, trying to clear his head. Frustration had him firmly in its grip. It was rather obvious that Emmeline was developing affection for the Count de Coligny, and it was also clear that the Count had affection for her. Their comportment this evening had been scandalous to say the least. Even as the uncharitable thought crossed his mind, he was painfully aware it was fuelled by red-hot jealousy. He sighed as he nursed his drink.

Emmeline and her brother had just left, and he had sorely wished to bid her goodbye so she may at least acknowledge his existence, but even something as simple as this seemed entirely beyond his abilities.

Suddenly, he heard two voices from the garden below. His ears pricked up. The two men were speaking in rapid French. Lord Blackwood was fluent in French, but he was not a native speaker, and therefore a lot of what the two men were discussing was lost to him. But, he could understand enough to be able to get the gist of the conversation.

One of the two men was definitely the Count. The second gentleman was someone he could not quite pinpoint, someone whose voice he did not recognize. However, judging from how they were speaking to each other, it was clear the two men knew each other well.

“It is all working perfectly,” said the Count. “I am going to have the girl within the palm of my hands, and they will all be none the wiser.”

“After all these years, you truly do deserve a victory,” said the other gentleman. “I do hope that you are able to exact vengeance upon those that have wronged you.”

“The plan has only just begun,
mon ami
,” said the Count. “Soon, I will be able to manipulate the people that harmed me and took away my inheritance. Soon, I will hurt them for what they have done to me.”

“And I wish you
bonne chance
in your endeavours,” said the unknown gentleman. “If you need any help from a fellow Frenchman, you know that I will always be here to assist you. My sword is yours to command. The wrongs of the past must be undone at any cost. There must be justice.”

“There will be,” the Count replied. “There will be.”

Lord Blackwood backed away from the balcony. He was shocked by the enormity of what he had just overheard. This was serious. The Count was talking about getting revenge. The only “girl” he had showered any attention on had been Emmeline. Therefore, logic dictated that the man that she was falling for was intended on hurting her, and causing harm to her family.

The Count had talked about some injustice that done to him in the past. What could he possibly be talking about? Lord Blackwood put these thoughts from his mind. Such things were not important right now. What was important was making sure that Emmeline’s affections for this imposter went no further. He had to warn her of the impending danger.

The next day, he called on Emmeline upon arriving at her home. Mrs. Knight was very excited. A gentleman caller at this time of the morning could well mean a marriage proposal. Lord Blackwood no less, would be quite a catch.

She sat in the drawing room with her daughter, pretending to be busy with her embroidery. Lord Blackwood immediately got through all the formalities as quickly as he could.

“Miss Knight,” said Lord Blackwood, “I must speak to you of a matter of the utmost importance. Would you give me just a moment of your time that I might speak to you in private? Perhaps a walk in the garden?”

Emmeline seemed hesitant. She looked towards her mother, who pointedly ignored her.

“Lord Blackwood, I do think that having a private word with a gentleman caller at this moment would be most inappropriate and peculiar.”

Mrs. Knight cleared her throat and gave her daughter a very stern stare. “The weather is most wondrous. Would you not say so Lord Blackwood?”

“Yes, Mrs. Knight. Most wondrous indeed.”

“Emmeline, why do you not take Lord Blackwood for a walk? I am sure the fresh air would benefit you both.”

Emmeline hesitated for a moment and then said, “Very well, Mama.” With her most composed demeanour she sailed out of the room, leaving Lord Blackwood to follow in her wake. They entered the garden and began to walk through it at a leisurely pace. She wasted no time in asking the question that burned on her tongue.

“Pray tell, what is of such urgency that it necessitates an early morning call.” Emmeline found it awfully vexing that she had to contend with Lord Blackwood’s presence. She sincerely hoped he was not there to declare himself. Although her affections for the Count were newly formed, she would not have considered any future with the viscount even if the case was otherwise. On the many occasions they had met, he had appeared to her as cold.

A man lacking in passion, must also lack in conviction. A man without conviction she was loath to admire.

“Of course,” said Lord Blackwood. “I will not take up too much of your time at all, I assure you. There is an urgent matter I need to bring to your attention.” He cleared his throat. “It concerns the Count de Coligny,” said Lord Blackwood. “I beg you to set any affections you might have developed for him aside as swiftly as possible.”

Lord Blackwood paused. Emmeline continued to stare at him, incomprehension written all over her face. “I heard him speaking of exacting vengeance upon a family that wronged him. Apparently everything was going according to plan. The man is clearly a blackguard.”

“Lord Blackwood,” Emmeline replied softly as if she were talking to a man straight out of
Bedlam
, the insane asylum. “What on Earth are you talking about?”

“The Count is not who he seems,” said Lord Blackwood. “He has some sort of sinister plot, and I assure you that his courtship of you is a part of this plot. A plot to ruin you.”

“Why would he do that?” asked Emmeline. “What would he have to gain?”

“He bears your family ill will for some imaginary injustice that was done to him in the past,” said Lord Blackwood, desperately trying to connect the dots. “Your grandfather knew his father, did he not? Perhaps they were engaged in some kind of business arrangement, and perhaps his father was wronged in some way. There are many possibilities, but what I am sure of is that he certainly has some kind of plot. And I am sure that you are a central figure in that plot because all he has done since he has come here has been to try to court you.”

Emmeline took a deep breath. She had never been one to be lost for words, but at the blatant insult leveraged by Lord Blackwood, she found herself stunned. She soon regained her wits, however. It was a pity that Lord Blackwood felt that her social standing was of such unimportance. Clearly he believed that the Count the Coligny could not look beyond birth and peerage. She might not be the greatest beauty in Berkshire, but she had no doubt the Count had succumbed to her charms.

“Lord Blackwood,” said Emmeline. “I understand, now, the purpose of your visit. You have seen the way that the Count de Coligny looks at me and do not believe me to be his social equal.” Emmeline clenched her fists.

It took some time for her words of indignation to sink in. Her words left Lord Blackwood perplexed. She had misunderstood him.

“No, you are mistaken,” he replied curtly.

“Am I? The only other cause for your distressing behaviour, would be jealousy. That would require passion, and you are not a man of passion or any other strong emotion,” Emmeline exclaimed, looking very put out. “I do hope that you are not making all of this up, for someone of sound mind would not do such a thing.”

“I assure you that I am not fibbing,” replied Lord Blackwood in an unemotional voice. Matters were progressing swiftly in an unwanted direction. He tried once more to make her see sense. “I admit that I do hold you in the warmest regard and have a great admiration for you,” he acknowledged, “but please don’t take this to mean that I would ever lie to win your affections. I am not so vile a person I would resort to lies. Your stubbornness in this matter will lead to disastrous consequences.”

“I shan’t hear any more about it. Please show yourself out.” Emmeline turned and walked back to the house, her mind firmly set on avoiding Lord Blackwood and his lunatic accusations for the foreseeable future.

The next day, Emmeline enjoyed a lovely lunch with
Phoebe Alexander. She was one of her dearest cousins, come to visit from Derbyshire. It was a welcome break. After the viscount’s visit, her mother had been incessant in her pursuit to find out his intentions. Despite Emmeline’s reassurance that he had no intentions to offer for her, she nattered on about it all morning. With relief, she had welcomed cousin Phoebe’s visit. She could barely restraint herself from telling her the entire story as they strolled through the common areas of Basildon Park, enjoying the spring blossom. Such beautiful weather was a rather rare occurrence, and Emmeline was determined to make the most of it.

“I understand completely,” Phoebe said, nodding her head.  “Lord Blackwood, sounds like an awful bore.”

“Well, I would not go that far,” Emmeline replied, suddenly annoyed that her cousin had such low regard for the very man she herself was criticising, but a moment ago. Phoebe regarded her with a puzzled look.

“More of a cold fish and an old fuddy-duddy.” Both girls giggled at the statement.

Suddenly, Emmeline heard a deep voice greeting her from behind. She turned and saw, to her immense delight, the Count de Coligny standing before her.

“Miss Knight, you are a vision at all times, it seems,” said the Count. “I am utterly mesmerised.”

“Your lordship, that is high praise indeed,” Emmeline replied, blushing profusely, as she curtsied. She proceeded with some introduction.

“This is my dear cousin, Miss Alexander, come to visit us from Derbyshire.”

“Good afternoon, Miss Alexander,” the Count said as he elegantly kissed her gloved hand.

“Good afternoon my lord. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.”

“You will excuse my continental manners Miss Alexander, but I have a matter of importance to discuss with Miss Knight and must beg your leave to whisk her aside for but a moment.” Phoebe smiled and gave her consent with a nod.

“Shall we walk together?” the Count asked Emmeline, “that is, if this is agreeable to you.”

“Of course,” said Emmeline. “I would love to.” She nodded to her cousin who proceeded at a slower pace until she was far enough to provide privacy, but close enough to act as a chaperone.

The Count cleared his throat and turned towards Emmeline.

“I hope I am not being too bold, but from the moment I laid my eyes upon you I realized that you are not an ordinary woman. I would deem it fair to call you a woman truly remarkable in every way. I would not be remiss in saying you are, quite possibly, the single most beautiful woman that I have ever met.”

“Oh, Count de Coligny,” Emmeline replied, looking away bewildered. She had her fairy tale come to life before her. All she had ever envisioned. But in that very moment, she could not shake the image of Lord Blackwood, pleading with her to have a care. She frowned, annoyed that the image of him was ruining her moment. “I am very honoured by your kind words, my lord.”

“I can assume, then, that I was not too bold in my declaration?” the Count asked.

“Yes,” Emmeline replied with a smile. “I would say that you were most certainly not too bold. Matters of the heart are a passionate affair.”

“Well, then, permit me to say something else,” the Count replied. “I am thirty-eight years old and have met many women over the course of my life, but none of them have been quite like you. You are everything that a man could ever wish for in a bride.”

Emmeline felt as though her heart had stopped in her chest. Such a beautiful declaration of sentiment, and that, too, from a member of the French peerage.

“My dear Count,” she replied, looking up at his handsome face. “Please rest assured that your sentiments and affections are reciprocated. Never have my feeling for any gentleman run as deep.”

While Emmeline was experiencing this lovely declaration of love in Basildon Park, her brother was facing a distinctly more uncomfortable situation back at home. He was about to tell his parents that he had lost a great deal of money while gambling with the Count de Coligny.

“Mother, Father” said Archibald, cautiously entering the drawing room.

“I am afraid that I have a most unpleasant matter to discuss with you.” His father looked up frowning.

“During my visit with Emmeline at Count de Coligny’s soiree I was too eager and confident in my own abilities and lost a significant sum of money at the cards table.”

“What do you mean by
significant amount of money
,” his father asked confused.

“Five hundred pounds,” Archibald answered, looking decidedly embarrassed.

“My word,” Mrs. Knight cried, fanning herself.

“Five hundred pounds! Boy have you lost your mind?” his father exclaimed. “The money you so easily threw away, was hard-won by me and my father before me. You are not a child anymore; you are a young man of eighteen. I have cautioned you on many occasions not to try to imitate those who are above your station. To them the loss of such a fortune is but a pittance.”

“I understand, father,” said Archibald, lowering his head in shame. “I will be a lot more careful next time.”

“Indeed you will,” Mr. Knight replied irritated. “Your monthly stipend will be reduced to help you reflect on your behaviour and you are forbidden from gambling with the Count de Coligny ever again, is that understood?”

“I understand, father,” Archibald replied, repentant. “I will not play cards with the Count under any circumstances.”

As Archibald walked away, he felt miffed. The Count had been cheating, he just knew it. It simply wasn’t possible for someone to be that good at cards unless they were
the Duke of Hazard
.

The Count had won every single hand, in every game, even the ones that he played against other people. Archibald sighed. There was no way to prove the Count had been using unfair means to win the card games. Since this was the case, Archibald, and everyone else who had lost a great deal of money playing against him, would have to accept the money was gone and there was no way to get it back.