Page 2 of The Viscount’s Second Chance (The Lovers’ Arch: Later in Life)

D espite frequent visits of varying length, Nora did not meet the infamous Thomas Bexton—the youngest viscount since the title’s creation—for several more months. In the meantime, Beth regaled Nora with tales of her brother’s mischief; how he filched extra desserts at school for his friends, that he caused their mother no small amount of frustration with his refusal to focus more on his studies and, still, somehow managed to receive relatively high marks. At five years Beth’s elder—now seventeen to her twelve years of age—Thomas was a young man who rode too fast, laughed loudly, doted upon his frail younger sister, and seemed to be incapable of staying out of trouble.

After hearing all the stories, it seemed only fair that, while he was away at school, Nora took up the mantle of resident hellion. Almost immediately, she made it her mission to have as much fun with Beth as possible.

It turned out Nora was only a quiet, tame child when she was being directly compared to her rambunctious siblings—something neither Lady Mylton nor Lady Bexton was ready for.

Their mischief began slowly; Nora was, after all, still rather conscientious for her age and did not wish to place Beth’s health in jeopardy. After weeks without incident, their quiet meetings in the dim sitting room moved to the library, then the gardens. Soon, they were sneaking off to the fields and traipsing through the woods. They read in the dappled light filtering through the canopy, dipped their toes into the stream, and fed plump apples to horses in the Bexton stables.

They were doing just that when Beth suffered her first attack in Nora’s presence.

At first, Nora thought her friend had tripped on an uneven bit of the packed flooring. She knelt to help Beth with a sympathetic cluck of her tongue, but the smile abruptly fell from her face when the tremors began.

“Beth?” Her friend’s body was stiff, her arms clenched and shaking; her beautiful blue eyes unseeing. “Beth!” Nora screeched and began to shake her. Her voice echoed in the empty stable, eliciting irritated whickers from the horses and startling a bird from its dusty nest in the rafters. “Please Beth—help!” she screamed, not knowing what to do. Nora’s gut urged her to seek out assistance, but her heart would not allow her to leave her friend there alone on the floor.

Suddenly, a pair of strong hands wrenched her out of the way; she was so caught off guard that she fell to her bottom with an oof and just barely prevented her back from colliding with the wall of a stall.

“You must roll her to her side,” the young male voice commanded and proceeded to do just that. He maneuvered Beth to her shoulder and, cradling her neck, he used his teeth to rip the fine leather riding glove from his hand and promptly stuck his fingers into Beth’s mouth.

“What are you doing?” Nora stammered. “What are you doing?” she repeated more loudly when he didn’t answer. Her hands floated helplessly in the air. Did she stop him?

“Making sure she didn’t swallow her tongue—or bite it off,” the young man ground out as he struggled to maintain control of Beth’s writhing body. It was remarkable that he was nearly double her size and yet Beth’s insensible movements were so strong he had to use his entire body to prevent her from injuring herself.

“What can I do?” Nora asked, desperately needing to make this horror end…to ease her friend’s pain.

The young man met her gaze with eyes so unnaturally ice-blue they appeared to glow. “We wait,” he replied flatly.

The heavy silence between them was unbearable. It felt as if it lasted hours when, in reality, it was likely no more than a minute or two before Beth sighed and went unnaturally still.

The young man lifted Beth, cradled her limp body to his chest, and produced a handkerchief from his pocket to clean her face. She looked so small in his arms, so cherished as he held her so gently.

Nora clenched her freezing, trembling hands in an attempt to still them. She willed her racing heart to slow and tore her eyes away from Beth to focus on the man who’d flown to their aid. Dark hair. Lean frame. Wide mouth and proud nose, so similar to Beth’s.

The dappled white gelding he’d abandoned upon arriving at the stables and witnessing Beth’s fit stood in the aisle like a well-mannered gentleman in his gleaming black-and-silver tack. He was just as Beth had described.

She looked back at the newcomer. “Thomas?” she whispered tremulously, hazarding a guess as to the young man’s identity.

He met her eyes and nodded once. “You are the infamous Nora Allen,” he stated, no question at all in his words. Beth must have written to her beloved elder brother about their blossoming friendship; the knowledge thawed some of the chill that had overtaken her. “This was your first time witnessing one of Beth’s spells?”

Nora clenched her jaw and nodded, ashamed that she’d felt so useless, so unable to help her friend in her time of need. She averted her eyes to glare at the ground, silently willing the tears stinging her eyes not to fall. A warm, comforting hand closed around her shoulder.

“You handled it well. And now you’ll know for next time.”

“Next time?” Nora sniffed back her emotions.

“If you’re going to be Beth’s friend, you will undoubtedly bear witness to one of these again. Now you know how to help her.”

“It doesn’t feel like much help.” Nora eyed her friend’s unconscious face and gently brushed a lock of her loose dark hair from her pale forehead. Thomas watched the gesture intently.

“All we can do is be there for her.”

“What causes it?” she asked, somewhat embarrassed that she hadn’t inquired about it before. But Beth had seemed so hale, so full of joy, it was easy to forget her mother’s words on the first carriage ride to Beth’s home.

Thomas shook his head, looking just as helpless as she felt. “The doctors cannot be certain, but her symptoms seem to be worse when she is under a great deal of stress or sick or weak. If she goes without sleep for too long, that also seems to have an effect.”

“She said she’s had trouble sleeping this week,” Nora whispered, recalling what Beth had told her at tea when she’d inquired about the dark circles beneath her eyes.

Thomas’ mouth thinned to a firm line and he nodded once. “That could have caused this incident.” His voice trailed off thoughtfully, the two of them gazing down at the girl who’d bonded them in that moment.

And there is no cure…

“No.” Nora’s head whipped up at Thomas’s whisper, a mixture of shock and embarrassment coloring her face when she realized she’d spoken aloud. “No known cure.”

Nora barely managed to swallow past the heart-shaped lump blooming in her throat. “Then we love her.”

It was Thomas’s turn for his eyes to widen in surprise and appreciation at her comment. A muscle ticked in his smooth jaw that was just angular enough to show the promise of manhood. He inclined his head, his dark hair falling forward to shield his eyes as one of his large hands reached over to cover hers and squeeze it with a firmness that wasn’t unwelcome. It grounded Nora—especially given the events of the past ten minutes.

And she felt strangely bereft when it left her.

“Come,” Thomas said, standing and continuing to cradle his sister in his arms as effortlessly as if she were a babe. “We’d best get you inside and have Beth put to bed. Mother will want to call the physician to check on her.”

Beth chose that moment to release an aggravated grumble. “Too loud…” she complained in a slurred voice and buried her face in her brother’s chest.

Thomas had been handsome before, but he was nothing short of beautiful when he smiled. “Though it seems as if she’ll recover.”

He held down a hand to Nora and she took it.

It took Beth two full days before she recovered enough to regain some of the sparkle in her eyes. The viscountess tried several times to have Nora return to her home, but Nora would hear none of it. In her heart, Viscountess Bexton, was grateful that her daughter finally had someone who not only brought her joy, but so clearly cared for her.

Nora refused to leave Beth’s side, staying with her through the night and curling up in a chair beside her bed like a watchful kitten. She nearly cried with joy when her friend was finally able to sit up in bed and declare her boredom.

“Mama has forbidden me from leaving the room,” Beth groused.

While sympathetic, Nora knew the viscountess was merely following the physician’s orders and, judging from the frail pallor of Beth’s face, it didn’t seem all that bad of an idea.

Nora said none of that, of course.

“Why don’t I collect some books from the library for us?” Nora offered and skipped down to that room before Beth could complain further.

It took Nora several minutes to locate titles that were not dusty and boring, or that she and her friend had not already devoured. She was forced to crawl on her hands and knees to view the books at the very bottom of the shelves. None particularly grabbed her interest until she came across a thick tome with an unmarked spine at the very far bottom corner of the case. Coated in a healthy fuzz of dust, it appeared as if it hadn’t been moved in years (nor had a servant taken the time to clean that particular area with any sort of diligence).

Nora plucked it from the shelf and swiped at the fawn-colored leather binding with a handkerchief, earning a hearty sneeze when the hazy cloud of dust hit her face. The embossed cover indicated the pages contained myths and legends of the British Isles. The binding creaked when she sat back on her heels and flipped it open. Alongside the expected tales of King Arthur and his knights, there were common myths of magic and fae creatures…as well as one very old tale with which Nora was unfamiliar. She thought it was quite possible Beth hadn’t either since the dust on the book likely predated both of them. Snapping up her find, Nora leapt to her feet and dashed back up the stairs to her friend’s room.

A tall, lean figure was draped across her chair, talking animatedly with Beth. Thomas . Nora’s cheeks heated when his handsome face turned toward her as she entered the room. She hoped the dim lighting would help disguise the fact that her thoughts had been split between both Bexton siblings ever since that moment in the stables.

“Ah, Miss Nora,” he greeted her and stood, bowing with deference and treating her as if she were a titled lady rather than a young girl. “You have been quite the nursemaid to my sister. It has been nigh impossible to find a moment when you have not been holding her hand or sleeping in this chair.” Now Nora knew her cheeks were on absolute fire. He’d spied her sleeping and she’d had no idea. Good lord, what if she’d drooled? She clutched the book to her chest like a shield.

“Don’t needle her, Thomas,” Beth commanded with as much strength as she could muster. It wasn’t much. “She’s the only person who can possibly make this bedrest tolerable.”

Thomas pressed a hand to his breast, tilting his head back in mock injury. “Oh, you wound me, dear sister. After all the forbidden books I bring you…”

Beth rolled her eyes and held a hand out to Nora to wave her closer. “Come, let us see what you’ve found.”

Nora brushed past Thomas, careful that not so much as her skirt brushed him as she walked by. She could feel his eyes on her every movement, but she refused to return the look. “It’s a book of myths and fantastical tales,” she explained, handing it over and hoping she’d dusted it off well enough. “I came across one that appears to be a love story. I thought it might be a wonderful diversion.”

“That sounds lovely!” Beth replied with more zest than Nora had seen from her in days.

“I will leave you to it then.” Nora’s head whipped up—she’d been so excited to present her finding to Beth that she’d almost forgotten Thomas remained in the room. “I’ll let Mama know to have both your midday meals sent up here.”

“Thank you,” Beth replied distractedly as she appreciatively traced the book’s cover with her fingertips.

“Oh, and Miss Nora…” Nora’s heart raced once again beneath his scrutiny, but it nearly stopped altogether at the mischievous tilt of his finely formed lips. “You’ve a smudge of dust just here.” He used his thumb to brush an imaginary blemish from his cheekbone and turned to leave just as Nora cursed beneath her breath and scrubbed at the offending spot on her face.

Beth giggled. “Wherever did you find this? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen it before.”

“Oh, just the library.” She was grateful for the switch in topic.

Beth flipped open the cover and squinted at the small print on the yellowed pages, but quickly gave in and dropped her head back to the pillow.

“My eyes ache. Would you please read it to me, Nora?” She patted the coverlet beside her.

“Of course.” Nora climbed into the bed beside her friend, fluffed the pillows, and curled up to read the forbidden love story of the lowly stonemason and the daughter of the Roman governor.

Neither girl noticed the young man listening in silence from the gap in the doorway as they read.