Page 15 of Most Sought-After Scoundrel in London (Wicked Widows League #31)

R ejection of any kind is a dagger to the heart.

Cameron reflected upon his actions and cursed under his breath as he removed his coat and handed it to the butler at the door of White’s.

Not wanting to remain alone, he sought the company of his peers.

However, as he trudged through the halls, he found himself searching for a vacant room as the jests and laughter only served to deepen the pain in his chest. He peered in the second to the last open door and entered what appeared to be the only vacant room.

He moved to the two winged-back chairs facing the fire that had been left unattended.

“Something the matter, Hurlington?” Warren Dowling, the Viscount of Guernsey, asked from one of the chairs, halting Cameron’s footsteps.

Guernsey maintained close relations with individuals linked to the Foreign Office. Network members, for reasons just or not, were reminded to be wary of those linked to the department that dealt with English affairs abroad.

“Alone this eve, Guernsey?” he deflected.

“I was.”

Cameron took the empty seat and stared at the flickering flames.

If his options were a rowdy lot or the company of Guernsey and his cold demeanor, the latter was by far the better choice.

“Where is Avondale and the rest of your lot?” The Network had confirmed long ago that the Duke of Avondale and his family were linked to the Foreign Office but had failed to verify Guernsey’s exact involvement.

“Abroad.”

Damn the man’s one-word responses. In no mood for chatter, he steepled his fingers and rested his chin upon them.

Guernsey let out a deep sigh that broke the long stretch of silence.

The man then stretched out his long legs and crossed them at the ankles as he reached up and back to place his palms behind his head.

“Hurlington, have you ever held out hope for something you knew was less than likely to occur, yet you were reluctant to yield and face reality?”

Just as he had been settling into his own thoughts, Guernsey’s riddle had him sitting up a little straighter in his chair. “Surrender? Never.” Curious as to what could have prompted the man to utter more than a few words, Cameron asked, “Why would you consider capitulating?”

Capitulating. Apparently, Violet’s vast vocabulary was influencing his speech. Argh. Why could he not banish the woman from his mind?

“I’ve run out of time.”

“It’s been a long day, Guernsey, so please, if you wish to unladen your burden, do so quickly.”

The man next to him rolled his head from side to side.

Grand. Guernsey was in no mood to share, and he wanted peace and quiet. Cameron replayed the events of the Council meeting in his mind as if it were a play. Violet’s reaction to Old Cadby’s words had told him to be prepared, yet his wounded heart overrode his mind, and he’d blundered.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He looked over at Guernsey and glared. “Must you drum your fingers?”

“Apologies. Habit.”

Damn. Damn. Damn. Cameron knew that if he didn’t resolve the man’s problem, he wouldn't have peace to sort out his own issues. “Why are you reluctant to forgo this wish that you obviously have held onto for some time?”

“I owe her my life.”

“Who is she?”

“If I knew the girl's name, I wouldn’t be in such a conundrum, now would I?”

“No need to get snappy with me.” Cameron inwardly flinched, recognizing that he had similarly overreacted earlier. “What do you know?”

“I have a vague impression of her face, but she had a small raspberry-colored, butterfly-shaped mark at her temple. She hauled me out of the river that runs along the outskirts of the village near our country seat.”

“Then someone in the village must know of her.”

Guernsey planted his feet, unwound his arms, and twisted to face him. “It’s too late. I’ve spent too much coin and time looking for the chit. Tonight I discovered that my all-too-clever mama has sought the help of a notorious matchmaker and has arranged everything.”

“You’re a bloody viscount, handsome according to the ladies, and you could marry anyone of your choosing, so why agree to an arranged marriage?”

“If I can’t marry the girl, then it matters not who I marry.”

Cameron studied the man next to him. Guernsey had to be lying.

Why would a man give up on the woman he wanted?

He should be asking himself that question.

He needed to figure out a way to win Violet’s affection.

He would not concede defeat. “If you were to find this girl, whom you know nothing of, how would you convince her to marry you?”

Guernsey’s brow knitted. “I suppose I’d have to learn her preferences.”

Hmm. What were Violet’s favorite things? She loved sweets.

“Or remind her of our shared experience. There was an instant bond that made me feel safe and secure in her presence. I’ve not felt that again with another.”

Cameron empathized with the man. Violet made him feel the same. What if he’d never had the opportunity to get better acquainted with Violet? Would he have done the same and agreed to an arranged marriage? Definitely not.

With his resources, locating another wasn’t too hard a task, even with the little information Guernsey had on the girl. Not one to involve himself in others' business, Cameron decided to make an exception. “I’ll help you find your mystery girl.”

“Why would you do that?”

“In return, you must assist me with convincing Lady Violet to marry me.”

“Now, why would I do that ?” Guernsey asked.

“Because I love her, and I won’t compromise and marry another.” As soon as the words left him, a weight lifted from his shoulders. He loved her, and he needed to tell her so, but how?

“Bah. First Avondale and now you.” Guernsey raked his hand through his hair. “Bloody hell. Both of your minds are befuddled by love.”

The man next to him was clearly conflicted. Guernsey’s gaze flickered between Cameron and the fire. He waited for the man to share the decision Cameron already knew Guernsey had made.

“Hurlington, you have a deal. I’ll assist you in winning Lady Violet’s hand, and you shall find the girl post haste.”

Two minds are always better than one when dealing with a problem, and this would be the last time he would need to seek the assistance of another.

Going forward, he would have Violet by his side to aid him.

The warmth that spread through him had him springing up to his feet.

Guernsey didn’t know it, but he had already helped Cameron devise a plan, but Cameron wasn’t going to let the man off too easily.

Violet rubbed the grit from her eyes and walked over to the porcelain bowl in the corner. A splash of cold fresh water would wake her up from the daze that she had fallen into since leaving Cameron the night before.

She turned to face the door of her room at the rapid rap of knuckles that indicated Lady Bertha was eager to see her.

Lady Bertha yelled through the door, “ Lady Violet.”

She couldn’t help but smile at Lady Bertha’s greeting as the woman slowly opened the door. With a clean linen, Violet patted her face dry and turned to face her visitor. “A good morn to you, Lady Bertha.”

“You are very popular, my girl. I had no idea that you were well acquainted with the rather charming and handsome Viscount of Guernsey.”

Handsome? Charming? Violet rummaged through her mind to come up with an image of the man. Coming up blank, she recalled having seen the name mentioned in her copy of Debrett’s. Hmm. What in the blazes was the man’s name?

“Warren Dowling, the Viscount of Guernsey.” Lady Bertha provided the answer she sought.

Warren Dowling. The Viscount of Guernsey didn’t ring any bells. Violet shrugged. “I don’t believe I’ve formally met the man.”

“Well, he is known for being a recluse, preferring to spend all his time at his country seat when he’s not required to attend sessions at the House of Lords.

” Lady Bertha rushed over to her wardrobe once more and selected a day gown.

Before Violet could object, the woman had the dress over her head, and Violet pushed her arms through at Lady Bertha’s rushed prompting.

“Why is he here?”

“Why? Perhaps to take you for a jaunt about Hyde Park?” Lady Bertha plucked the hairbrush from her vanity and advanced upon Violet.

Hands up to stop the woman who she knew meant well, Violet asked, “Are you certain he’s here to see me?”

“Absolutely. He said, ‘I’m here to fetch Lady Violet.’” Lady Bertha had lowered her voice and gave her best impression of the gentleman.

Violet let a giggle escape her and replied, “Very well. I shall go down and see what the man is about.” She glanced at her image in the looking glass and tucked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear.

If it had been Cameron waiting below, she would have stopped to style her tresses.

But it wasn’t Cameron seeking her company as soon as calling hours began, it was some stranger.

It was her own doing. Disappointment made her stomach ache.

At the foot of the stairs stood a man that Lady Bertha had aptly described as charming. Lord Guernsey gave her a warm, welcoming smile and held out his hand for her as she descended. She put her hand in his as she placed her foot on the last step. “A good morn to you, my lord.”

“And a good morn to you, Lady Violet.”

The viscount’s light touch didn’t send sparks through her like when a certain other male she didn’t want to name came close. Violet looked up at the stranger and arched a brow.

“Shall we?” He motioned for them to leave.

What in heaven was going on? Cameron had never mentioned the lord next to her, and her instincts were screaming at her to proceed with caution. Why her feet disobeyed her mind, she hadn’t a notion, but Violet found herself being led through the front door and to an awaiting carriage.

As he opened the door of the vehicle and assisted her up the steps, Lord Guernsey leaned in and whispered, “You are a brave lady. Hurlington is a lucky man.” The door closed behind her, and she fell onto the rear-facing seat as the coachman took off.

“Cameron!” she yelped as she righted herself. Violet blinked, still not believing she was facing the man she had rejected the night before. If nothing else, Cameron was persistent.

“I’m sorry for deceiving you, but I wasn’t certain you would agree to see me.”

She didn’t follow his logic. “So you sent a stranger?”

“Well, I know you are the curious type and like investigating matters… I thought…”

“You thought to test my training?”

Cameron shook his head. “Good gracious, no.” He reached out for her left hand and clasped it tightly between his.

“I wanted to prove to you that despite us only having spent a relatively short period of time in each other's company, I know you and I know what I want.” He let go of her hand and turned back to retrieve a box next to him. Cameron held the gift, secured with a bright red bow, out to her. “I’m making a hash out of everything. Here, this is for you.”

Violet took the present, untied the ribbon, and lifted the lid. Inside were three sweets wrapped in paper. She looked back up at Cameron.

His eyes lit up as their gazes met. “Open them.”

She reached in and picked up the one in the middle. Voice cracking, Cameron yelled, “Stop. Wait.”

It wasn’t at all a funny situation, yet the flustered look upon his face had Violet smiling and putting the sweet back in the box.

Her heart flipped as she figured out what the man was up to.

Cameron had devised a message for her to read.

Fond memories of their first encounter at the confectionery shop floated before her as she gazed upon the man she had fully given her heart to.

Cameron cleared his throat and calmly said, “The one on your right first.” He peered down at the box and then hurriedly added, “No. Wait. The one on my right, your left.”

“Why don’t you simply tell me what it is you want to say?”

“I thought this would be more romantic for a lady who loves to read and write.”

How extremely thoughtful. Violet unraveled the paper, popped the sweet in her mouth, and read the note, which only contained one vowel. I.

She picked up the second treat and this time offered it to Cameron. The rogue opened his mouth for her to feed him and captured her finger between his lips. Grinning, Violet read the second note. This time, the word love was scrawled on it.

Elation combined with shock at the effort Cameron had made had her hand shaking as she unraveled the last sweet and confirmed the wrapper indeed had the word you written on it.

When Cameron’s hand appeared palm up with yet another wrapped sweet, Violet found herself frowning at the man seated opposite her. “What is this?”

“A promise.”

Of course, curiosity got the better of her and she revealed the last word. Forever.

Eyes moist, Violet watched as Cameron fell onto one knee and presented her with a ring. “Will you marry me?”

This time, she didn’t hesitate. Violet nodded and said, “Yes.”

He slipped the ring upon her finger, and she reached out to cup his face and sealed her promise with a kiss.

Moments later, out of breath, Violet pulled back and stared directly at Cameron and said, “I love you, too.”