Return of the Viscount by Gayle Callen Read Free Book Online Page B

could feel herself again, but he followed her into Appertan Hall and right into the study, where the steward and secretary both waited. She introduced her husband to the men, and was gratified when they did not begin directing their estate questions to him, as some men might have.
    She spent another two hours dealing with estate matters and correspondence, and she kept waiting for her husband to leave, but he seemed interested. Even when he was leaning on his cane, staring out the window, there was an alertness about him that kept drawing her attention. More than once, she was distracted by him and lost her train of thought. The steward and secretary shared amused glances but wiped away their smiles when she frowned at them.
    At last, the two employees left, and she sat back in her chair behind the desk and met Lord Blackthorne’s contemplative gaze.
    â€œGo ahead, say what you need to,” she said briskly.
    He perched one hip on the edge of the window seat. “Tell me about Lord Appertan.”
    She frowned. “I thought I already had. And surely my father spoke of him often.”
    â€œBut I want to hear your thoughts.”
    She wanted to say that her brother’s life—her own—was none of his business but didn’t want to antagonize him. She had already written to her lawyers, asking about the proxy marriage and what options she had. But she had to bide her time until she received a response.
    She sighed. Anything she told Lord Blackthorne about Oliver could be gotten from any family acquaintance, after all. “As I said, we were born in India and had a home in Bombay. We spent summer in the Hills to escape the worst of the heat.”
    â€œI am surprised your mother did not spend more time in England.”
    â€œShe did not want to be parted from my father.” Cecilia spoke impassively, but inside, her stomach churned with the memories that wouldn’t go away. How, as she grew older, her mother confided more and more in her as if she were a grown woman, about her fears that Appertan would find a mistress to shame her if she left him alone. Once or twice at a dinner party, she even forced Cecilia to follow her father, as if he might sneak away from the card room for an illicit affair. The constant neediness and dread and pessimism wore away at Cecilia, until she realized she could escape into her studies, into her books. And that also helped her escape the memories.
    â€œYou went on campaign,” Lord Blackthorne said, and it wasn’t a question.
    â€œWe followed the drum, a military family.” She forced a smile, her fingers playing restlessly with a quill on the desk. “When Oliver was younger, he played with all the other boys, and it didn’t matter whose father was a sergeant or whose was a colonel. But as he grew older, their different circumstances began to play out among even the children. When Papa decided it was time to return to England, for Oliver to attend Eton, I thought things would be better for my brother.”
    â€œEton can alter a boy,” Lord Blackthorne said. “I noticed it among my friends.”
    But not himself? she wondered, but didn’t ask.
    â€œIt’s supposed to build character,” she continued, “or so I heard. But the friends he made weren’t the kind I would have chosen for him. They now like to drink too much and . . . socialize with the wrong element. He is immature, and I wish my father were still alive to take him in hand.”
    Lord Blackthorne briefly looked away. He must miss her father, and she would try to remember that.
    â€œEvery young man goes through such a period,” he said. “But Appertan has not come out of it, and, forgive me, but I don’t think you’re helping by managing everything for him.”
    â€œI’m doing what I must,” she said coolly.
    â€œThen I have a suggestion. Let me become involved.” He left the window seat and limped toward