Page 7 of The Viscount’s Forgery (Bluestocking Book Club #4)

“ A fine day for a walk, I think.”

“Indeed it is,” Lord Bothwell agreed, as he walked alongside Nicholas through the grounds of Hyde Park. “It will soon become very busy indeed, however, given that the fashionable hour will be upon us!”

“I do not mind that in the least,” Nicholas declared, making his friend grin. “That is precisely the reason I suggested a walk around this time!”

“Is that so?” Lord Bothwell lifted an eyebrow. “Because you wish to set me in amongst the ton so that I might see all the available young ladies and forget about Polly?”

Nicholas shook his head, his heart clamoring within him as it fought a twinge of guilt.

“No, not in the least,” he declared firmly, even though that had certainly been part of his intention in suggesting this walk at this time of day.

“I thought only to lift your spirits a little and to set myself into society a little more also. After all, I am here to have an enjoyable Season and being in amongst the ton will bring a good deal of that to me.” He chuckled as Lord Bothwell rolled his eyes.

“Come now, if this were last Season, you would be agreeing with me wholeheartedly!”

“That is because I did not know what it was to fall in love,” Lord Bothwell stated, making Nicholas’ smile crack apart. “Just as you do not.”

“I have no intention of falling in love,” Nicholas said, holding up one hand as his friend began to speak. “And pray, do not tell me that you had the very same intention before it happened to you, for I will not believe it.”

Lord Bothwell snorted. “You already appear to know precisely what it is I am going to say, so no, I shall not say a word.” His scowl faded just a little.

“Though I am grateful to be here. To be back in amongst society is a good thing for my spirits. I have spent too many months at my estate, ruminating.”

Nicholas’ lips pinched. “Too much ruminating on anything is a bad thing, my friend, even if it be the most wonderful thing you can think of.”

“I suppose that is true.”

“And have you spoken to this Polly as yet?” Nicholas asked, aware that it was now a little over a sennight since he had first mentioned her at the ball. “I hope that you will have spoken to her, at least!”

Lord Bothwell’s silence was his answer. Nicholas closed his eyes and sighed.

“I had every intention of doing so,” Lord Bothwell said quickly, evidently hearing Nicholas’ sigh. “Yes, I know I have been foolish in not doing so as yet, but when I saw her… well, my heart did all manner of strange things and I have been trying to make sense of it since then!”

“Just as you have been trying to make sense of it for many a month,” Nicholas said bluntly, as his friend frowned.

“I do not mean to be cruel, so do not think that this comes from anything other than concern, but I fear that you are injuring yourself by this prolonged consideration! You must decide, my friend, and you must decide soon.”

“Which means that I must, at the very least, speak with her,” Lord Bothwell muttered, as Nicholas nodded. “Goodness, I must be a very frustrating friend indeed, given how often you have had to say the very same things to me.”

Nicholas chuckled. “Not too frustrating, I assure you. The truth is, my friend, you are a good deal altered from how you were last Season.” He put his hand on his friend’s shoulder, stopping their walk for a moment. “I want to see you happy, to see you returned to yourself. That is all.”

Lord Bothwell took in a deep breath and nodded. “I understand that. I shall be bold enough to speak with her this afternoon, then. I will. I swear it.”

“Good.” Nicholas slapped Lord Bothwell on the back and then gestured to the growing crowd. “Then shall we go and see if she is present as yet?”

With a slight hesitation, Lord Bothwell nodded and then made his way towards the group of gentlemen and ladies in the center of the park.

Nicholas went with him, his heart quickening as he took in the many young ladies present.

It was a delight to be introduced to so many new and lovely creatures, though it was only a pity that he could not dance here in the middle of Hyde Park!

Nicholas was here for enjoyment and enjoyment only, though the same could not be said of Lord Bothwell!

“She is not present as yet,” Lord Bothwell murmured, looking over the crowd quickly. “I cannot see her.”

“Do not be too hasty,” Nicholas said, taking slower steps as they drew near, nodding as a friend, Lord Hewitt, caught his attention.

“And if she is not, then there are plenty of acquaintances that we might speak with until she arrives. Lord Hewitt has just sent us a nod of greeting, and I can see Lord Greenlaw present also. No doubt Lord Marchfield will be with him, along with his sister.”

“Who is now engaged, might I add.”

Nicholas’ eyebrows lifted in surprise.

“To a very respectable viscount,” Lord Bothwell continued. “So you need not be afraid of your friendship with Lord Marchfield any longer, given that his sister is now spoken for.”

“I will not pretend that is not a relief,” Nicholas answered, as his friend continued to look around the park. “Lord Marchfield always did want me to consider his sister.”

Lord Bothwell sighed heavily. “Mayhap Polly will not come to the fashionable hour at all. There are so many occasions for young ladies to attend that – ”

The short, sudden stop and the swift intake of breath told Nicholas that there was, in fact, a sighting of this particular young lady.

Coming to a stop right beside his friend, he let his gaze drift in the very same direction, seeing so many young ladies that it was hard to discern who precisely his friend was looking at.

A young lady suddenly captured his attention, her familiar features bringing an awareness to him but all the same, he could not quite place her.

She had dark curls that framed her face, her bonnet hiding the rest of her hair from him.

Blue eyes were laughing up at something the gentleman beside her was saying, a warm, welcoming smile on her lips.

Surely he was acquainted with her already, given the sense of recognition? But why could he not remember her name?

“You are already acquainted with her, yes?”

Nicholas looked across at his friend. “What do you mean?”

“The way you are gazing at her,” Lord Bothwell said quietly. “You must know her already, yes? Mayhap you were acquainted before I told you about my connection to her?”

Blinking, Nicholas returned his gaze to the lady in question. “Her?” he asked, not lifting his hand but his chin in her direction. “With the dark curls and blue eyes?”

Lord Bothwell frowned. “No, she has light brown curls and dark blue eyes,” he said, as Nicholas continued to gaze at the lady who had caught his attention.

“I thought you were looking in her direction.” He paused, then let out a snort.

“Ah, I see now. You are looking at her sister. Are you already acquainted with her? I was so caught up with Polly that I did not even see Eugenia beside her until this moment!”

“Her sister?” Nicholas repeated, finally pulling his gaze away from the lady and looking to her left, seeing the light brown curls of the lady next to her. “Yes, I think I must be though I do not remember how.”

“Then mayhap we shall have to go to ask to find out,” his friend suggested, drawing in a long breath that seemed to push him upwards a few inches. “Are you quite ready?”

“Are you?” Nicholas asked, as Lord Bothwell strode forward, taking such long and hurried strides that Nicholas had to quicken his steps to keep up.

It was as if Lord Bothwell was afraid that, if he did not walk as quickly as this, he would lose his courage and turn back.

Nicholas watched as the first lady, Polly, lifted her gaze and caught the Marquess approaching.

Her expression changed in an instant, her eyes widening, her hand reaching out to find that of her sister’s.

There came a paleness into her cheeks as she turned away directly from the lady she had been speaking with and made her way directly towards Lord Bothwell, leaving her sister to scramble for an apology and an excuse to those they had been talking to before she was dragged away.

“Polly.” Lord Bothwell closed his eyes, then inclined his head. “I mean, Miss Sherwood. Good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon,” she breathed, as Nicholas looked into the eyes of the second young lady, trying to recall her still. “Oh, Bothwell, I have been hoping and praying that you might come and speak with me.”

Lord Bothwell coughed and then cleared his throat in a somewhat abrupt manner.

“I should introduce you to my dear friend.” He gestured to Nicholas, a look of panic in his eyes that were slightly flared at the edges.

“This is the Viscount Bothwell. I mean, the Viscount Suffolk.” He muttered something under his breath, dropping his head for a moment in clear embarrassment at his mistake.

“Lord Suffolk, might I present Miss Polly Sherwood and Miss Eugenia Sherwood, daughters of Viscount of Derbyshire.”

Nicholas bowed low. “My very great pleasure to be introduced to you both.”

“Though we have already been introduced, in a way,” came the response from the younger Miss Sherwood, her head tipped to one side, her eyes assessing him. “Though mayhap you do not recall, Lord Suffolk?”

It irritated him that she had been able to discern that from a mere look on his face. “You are quite correct, Miss Sherwood. I do not recall.”

“I see.” She offered him a smile but nothing more, did not give him an explanation as to who she was or why he already knew her face, turning her attention to the Marquess instead.

This only added to Nicholas’ frustration, his jaw jutting forward as he took her in again, trying to discern her face from the many others he was acquainted with, but nothing came.