The Proud Viscount by Laura Matthews Read Free Book Online Page B

you."
    Nancy said nothing, but dropped her gaze to little William. who was making tentative movements on his hands and knees.
    * * * *
    Later that evening, when Jane was on her way to bed, Lord Rossmere overtook her in the first-floor corridor of the east wing. The candles flickered softly in their sconces on the walls, shedding a little light on the dark hall. Jane was tired and vaguely disturbed. At first she did no more than acknowledge the viscount’s greeting with a nod and a slight smile. As he passed by, a thought occurred to her.
    “Stay a moment,” she called. “There was something I wished to ask you.”
    Only then did she notice that he’d already eased his neckcloth away from his throat so that his shirtpoints hovered ludicrously around his ears. Jane bit her lip to suppress a grin.
    “What was it?” he asked rather brusquely.
    “Did Mr. Parnham bring a book for my father today?”
    “A book? Oh, yes. He had it in his pocket. Something about Lord Barlow’s favorite subject, I believe.”
    “And he indicated that it was his own idea to acquire the book?”
    “I don’t quite understand what you’re getting at, Lady Jane.”
    “Did he say it was from him, or from Nancy, or both of them?”
    A flicker of annoyance appeared in Rossmere’s eyes. “What difference could it possibly make? I don’t remember. Though I’m fairly certain that he said he’d gotten it for your father. There was no mention of your sister.”
    Jane nodded. “Yes. Thank you. I fancied as much. It’s what comes of having very little regard for another’s opinion, you know, this convoluted behavior. Well, good night, Lord Rossmere.”
    He stared at her for a moment, then offered a curt nod and stalked off down the hall.
     

Chapter 5
     
    Lady Jane hated to see her sister leave in the morning, but Parnham was insistent that they had to return to Parnham Hall. The estate had been called Marsden Hall for so many years that the natives found it impossible to adapt to the new nomenclature, but Parnham corrected anyone who reverted to the old name. “After all,” he was fond of saying, “the Marsden line has disappeared, and the Parnham line needs encouragement.”
    When the sparkling carriage was no more than a cloud of dust on the road, Jane wandered over to the willow trees and curled up under one as she had promised herself she would. The dew had burned off the grass and it smelled warmly fragrant. Swaying branches caught the slight breeze and brushed against her lemon jaconet muslin dress. Aunt Mabel would have cautioned her against getting grass stains on it.
    Nancy’s revelations about her marriage had disturbed Jane. It was always more pleasant to think that one’s favorite people were perfectly happy. On the other hand, perhaps her other sister, Margaret, was right that certain adjustments always had to be made when one lived with another person. That sounded very reasonable. And yet Parnham disappeared for days on end without giving any explanation. Now, that was really uncalled for. Nancy was not, after all, a servant in the household, who might be kept in ignorance of the master’s doings.
    Her thoughts were so deeply engrossing that she failed to notice the viscount arrive on the other side of the fall of leafy branches. When she finally looked up, she found him observing her with interest, unmoving, his feet in black boots planted a little distance apart. Jane remained seated. She almost wished she could flutter her hand at him to go away.
    “May I join you?” he asked.
    It sounded like a rhetorical question to her. He scarcely waited for her nod before parting the branches and lowering himself to the ground beside her. He wore buckskin breeches and a riding coat, a much more appropriate outfit for lying on the ground than her own. And he did lie on the ground, while she sat primly with her knees bent and her skirts tucked decorously about her.
    “I was hoping you would ride with me today,” he