Page 4 of The Viscount’s Forgery (Bluestocking Book Club #4)

This made his friend chuckle, though it held a weight there all the same.

“No, he did not. It was not his doing at all. It was my own.” Closing his eyes again, his shoulders rounded.

“Her sister, Miss Eugenia Sherwood, had taken a short respite from the drawing room. Polly went in search of her, and when she did not return, both I and her parents rose to go and find them. What I heard from Polly’s lips was the most unrefined speech that I had ever heard from her.

It was callous and cruel, and I could not quite take it in!

How could it be that the lady I adored, the lady that I thought so wonderful, could speak with such maliciousness? ”

A little surprised, Nicholas took a moment to respond. “You mean to say that these sharp words were directed to her sister?”

“Yes.” Lord Bothwell’s lips tugged to one side as he looked away. “I cannot understand why she thought to say such things to her! I might have some level of understanding if it was her enemy or someone who had wronged her but this was her sister. ”

“I see.” Nicholas, spying a footman, caught his attention and picked up two more brandies, handing one to Lord Bothwell. “So you chose to end the engagement?”

“No.” Lord Bothwell grimaced. “I am still quite in love with her, you see, but I cannot resolve in my heart what I saw of her that day. I do not want to let her go but neither am I sure that I want to marry her either.”

Taking a sip of his brandy, Nicholas frowned. “You have made her wait?”

Lord Bothwell’s lips flattened. “Yes, I have.”

“That seems a little cruel.”

“Again, with the blunt manner,” his friend sighed, though he smiled a little.

“Yes, I suppose it is, but I must tell you, I do not mean to be so.” Pausing, he swirled his brandy around.

“I spoke to her father and her sister a month after the conversation. I thought that they would be able to help me ascertain what I ought to do or help me understand who Polly really is, but instead, it only added to my confusion.”

“In what way?” Nicholas wanted to know. “What could have confused you further?”

His friend took a mouthful of brandy and then let out a sigh. “Because her father spoke only of her regret and her sorrow and her sister… well, Miss Eugenia Sherwood said more with her eyes than with her mouth, I am afraid.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Lord Bothwell smiled sadly. “She did not tell me a single thing that was wrong with her sister, did not tell me anything about her character nor her failings. Everything she said was neither one thing nor the other, neither negative nor positive. But when I asked her specifically if Polly had spoken to her often in that manner in which I had seen, she said that it was not particularly common but the pain in her eyes said quite differently.”

“Ah.” Nicholas, understanding, pursed his lips as he thought. “I can see now why it is confusing.”

“I have received letter upon letter from Polly,” Lord Bothwell said, a catch in his voice. “She has begged me to forgive her for her poor actions and has told me that she is quite determined not to behave so in the future.”

Nicholas brightened. “That is a good thing then, is it not? And everyone has their failings.”

“That is true.” Lord Bothwell ran one hand over his eyes.

“All the same, I cannot help but be doubtful. I do not know whether the lady I fell in love with is just as she seems or not! I do not want her to berate the servants or the like in any such tones. I do not want to have such cruelty displayed!”

“I understand.” It was all Nicholas could say, thinking silently to himself that his friend was making the lady wait for a very long time to come to a decision.

Silence fell between both gentlemen as they sipped their brandy, though the Marquess shot Nicholas a look that told him he was waiting for something more of a response.

With a wry smile, Nicholas shrugged. “There is nothing more for me to say, Bothwell. Whatever you decide, it must be your decision.”

“But you think I am being a little unfair to her.”

“Yes, I do. It is now the Season and you must either declare yourself or let her free to pursue another.” Nicholas spread out his hands. “It is not the same for ladies of the ton as it is for gentlemen. They do not have as many Seasons as they wish to find a husband.”

Lord Bothwell’s face fell. “That is true. I had not thought of that.”

“I think you must speak with her, if you have not already,” Nicholas said, gently. “She clearly cares for you, Bothwell.”

This made his friend’s gaze shoot back towards him. “Do you think so?”

“If she is waiting for you, then yes.”

“You do not think that it is only my title and my fortune that draw her?”

Nicholas opened his mouth, then closed it again, his brow furrowing.

“You, after all, are seeking to do what you can to make certain that no lady pursues you simply because of your wealth,” Lord Bothwell continued. “Could it not be that Polly desires my company solely because of my title?”

Taking in a breath, Nicholas shook his head.

“No. I think if that were how she felt, she would have already ended the stalemate between you both and begun to pursue another, perhaps a Duke instead of a Marquess.” The edge of his mouth slid upwards as his friend’s lips quirked.

“I cannot tell you for certain, my friend. Only she can do that.”

“I understand.” Lord Bothwell finished his brandy and then nodded.

“You are quite right. I should speak with her and explain all. It does not mean that I will come to a conclusion but I shall, mayhap, suggest that she consider ending our connection if that is what will be best for her. I will not have her tied to me, waiting.”

“And might you also consider giving yourself a time by which you must make the decision?” Nicholas suggested. “A month, mayhap? Two?”

Lord Bothwell’s expression shuttered as if the suggestion had pained him in some way. He did not respond for a minute or so, making Nicholas fear that he had upset his friend, only for Lord Bothwell to drop his head and groan.

“Yes, I should, I know I should.” With another exclamation of frustration, he shook his head. “I am being much too unfair to her. Two months, then. I must decide by then.” Putting out one hand, he set it on Nicholas’ shoulder. “Thank you, my friend. You have been most helpful.”

“I am glad, though I do not know precisely what I said or did that was in any way helpful,” Nicholas answered, “aside from handing you a brandy!” This made Lord Bothwell chuckle, which brought Nicholas some relief.

His friend, then, was not as downhearted as he had been when Nicholas had first come upon him, and that was a good thing.

“And you, my friend?” Lord Bothwell asked, as Nicholas too finished his brandy. “Are you to pursue matrimony this Season?”

Spluttering slightly, Nicholas shook his head as his friend’s smile returned. “No, not at all! I have no intention of trying to find a bride.”

“But if you should find yourself enamored with a young lady, as I did, then might you find yourself at the altar regardless?”

Thinking about the idea, Nicholas recoiled from it.

“No, not as yet. I do not think that I could find myself enamored, as you say, for it has not ever happened to me as yet! Yes, there have been many young ladies I have been drawn to, but none have ever captured me in the way that you have described.”

Lord Bothwell grimaced, his smile gone now. “It is not as pleasant as it seems, evidently.”

“Come now, let us not slide back down into despair,” Nicholas said firmly.

“I have every intention of dancing this evening, and if you will not, then might I suggest a card game? I did hear the card room was being set up just as I arrived, so there will be plenty of merriment to be had regardless of what you choose to do.”

“I certainly shall not dance,” came the firm reply.

“But yes, I may well go to play cards. It will put her out of my mind, I am sure, though… though I have been standing here in the hope of setting my eyes upon her again.” He winced.

“I had no intention of speaking with her or dancing with her, of course. It was only just to see her again.”

Nicholas smiled gently. “I understand. I will come to find you later this evening, then.”

“Most likely at the card table,” the Marquess answered, with a rueful smile. “Thank you, my friend.”

“Of course.” With a nod, Nicholas turned and began to walk back through the crowd.

He had, as he had said to his friend, every intention of dancing this evening which meant that he could not spend his entire evening standing with the Marquess and consoling him – though what he had learned was very surprising indeed!

He had known that Lord Bothwell had been interested in a young lady, but he had not heard about this subsequent engagement.

That was for the best, however, given that the ton would not know of it either.

I should not like to be so, Nicholas thought to himself as he approached a group of acquaintances, noticing the young ladies who stood near them.

Casting his eye over them, he let himself smile, but relief continued to fill his heart.

He was not about to behave as the Marquess had done, was not about to let himself fall in love with a young lady just because she happened to catch his attention!

He was much too aware for that, he was quite sure.

With a smile on his face, he came near to his acquaintances and, greeting them, set all thought of love and matrimony out of his mind.

He was here to enjoy himself, and that was precisely what he intended to do.