Page 8 of The Viscount’s Second Chance (The Lovers’ Arch: Later in Life)
T homas strode up the front steps of Nora’s Townhouse, his palms damp and his heart pounding like a green lad about to call upon his first sweetheart.
“Stop,” he berated himself for the umpteenth time. “It’s only Nora.”
But that was the root of the problem, wasn’t it? This was Nora .
He inhaled the crisp air deeply before releasing the breath in a very slow, calculated exhalation. The air smelled heavily of rain; thick clouds filled the sky as a carryover from the prior night’s drizzle. In all, it was a dreary English Fall day. Were this any other woman or any other circumstances, Thomas might have sent a note of regret and a promise to reschedule. But he knew both he and Nora needed this.
This mission was about more than spending the day out of doors; both of them needed space from their grief—to both honor and Beth and have a taste of what life might be without her. They needed to break out of the routines that had made up their lives these past many years and try something new.
Learning to live without Beth would be agonizing…but Thomas knew he just might survive it if he had Nora there by his side.
Steeling his resolve, he raised his hand and knocked upon the door.
Just when he thought she might choose not to answer and would leave him to stand like an imbecile pining after a woman who did not want him (for all he knew, that was precisely the case), Nora opened the door herself. Despite the drabness of her mourning attire, she was still quite the loveliest woman he’d ever seen. Her chestnut hair was plaited and pinned to her head in a style that was likely intended to be severe, but Thomas appreciated it for the way it revealed her gorgeous features and the graceful curve of her neck. Her eyes were clear and less puffy than the last time he saw her; he took that as a good sign. Her dress was a flat black fabric with a dark organza overlay on the skirts. She wore a matching spencer with black braided frog closures and dark grey kid gloves.
Yet, she glowed.
“It is nice to know your promptness has held up over the years,” she said, the barest hint of a smile on her lips.
Thomas had to clear his throat before he could speak. “Are you answering your own door now? What has happened to the staff?” Yesterday, he’d been able to enter the home unannounced and now this?
“They have leave through the end of the week,” Nora explained as she grabbed her reticule from the small table in the entryway and locked the door behind them. “I was not supposed to return to Town for another fortnite.”
His brow furrowed. “I don’t care for the idea of you alone in this house.”
“I’m perfectly fine. This is a safe area.”
“Bad things happen even on the best streets in Mayfair.” And, while still a good area, this was not Mayfair.
“I hardly have anything worth stealing in the home,” Nora scoffed as she allowed him to take her arm and lead her down the steps to the walkway.
Thomas watched her from the corner of his eye, knowing full well that she was more valuable than any mountain of gems or gold. He resolved then and there to sort out a watch for her Townhouse until her staff returned…and if he couldn’t find someone on such short notice, then he’d do it himself. He wouldn’t be able to sleep without knowing she was protected anyway.
Believing the matter settled, Nora tilted her head to look up at him. “Where shall we begin?”
“Why don’t you tell me where you’ve looked and we will look elsewhere?”
“Utterly logical, as always.” A ghost of a smile played upon her raspberry-pink lips. “We walked the paths of Hyde Park and poked around gardens known to contain remnants of Roman ruins, though we never came across more than a crumbled pile of stones or a few intact cobbles here and there. We even traveled to Bath last summer to see if we might uncover clues there despite the fact that the myth indicates the arch was in Londinium. Bath has some of the best preserved Roman architecture, so we thought—”
“When did you go to Bath?” Thomas had kept tabs on his sister’s whereabouts—and Nora’s, by association—a journey to Bath had never been mentioned.
“The beginning of June,” she replied after giving the matter some consideration. “Beth and I both felt cooped up, so we snuck away without even our maids.”
Well, that would explain it. The staff were likely too terrified of him to report that their charges had snuck off without their knowledge.
Nora giggled as if it had been a right jolly adventure, either unaware or ignoring the rage seething beneath Thomas’s surface. “We were only gone for four days, but it was so freeing. We took rooms at an inn and made inquiries. Of course, we found nothing of interest to our search, so we returned to London relatively quickly.”
“You realize how dangerous that was, do you not?”
She frowned up at him. “We were completely safe. A private coach was hired and we stayed at a perfectly respectable establishment. The innkeeper’s daughters attended us and served as guides. We were treated with no less respect than cherished distant relatives. Besides, Beth and I always had each other.”
A lot of good that would have done , Thomas grumbled to himself. A woman with the falling sickness and a chestnut-haired sprite had no chance against a man truly wishing to do them harm.
But, he supposed nothing bad had come of it. He might have berated Beth for her careless behavior in the past, but there was nothing to be done of it now.
And he had no right to say anything to Nora over her choices…no matter how he wished he did.
A sudden gust of wind nearly ripped off Nora’s hat despite the pins affixing it to her hair. It was saved only by a quick gloved hand smacked to her head. “Blast.” She tilted her head to the sky. “Perhaps we should reschedule.”
“You are not getting out of this that easily.” Thomas tugged her along the walkway. “We have an arch to find.”
“I have never been here before,” Nora said as she was seated at the corner table at the Mayfair dining establishment, Smythe and West. Thomas sat across from her, looking absurdly large and handsome in the warm space. The French concept of restaurants was relatively new in England and many still looked down upon those who frequented these public eateries, but this one was known to cater to Mayfair’s elite with discerning palates. As far as dining establishments went, this one was remarkable.
“Then I am pleased I am the one to introduce you to it.”
They’d spent the better part of three hours wandering South Kensington, Brompton, and meandering up to Mayfair. It was clear he’d put some thought into the adventure because he’d sussed out several locations even she and Beth hadn’t explored. Still, cheeks pinkened from the increasing wind, they’d come to this establishment famished and unsuccessful. Somewhere along the way, the line between reality and their fool’s errand blurred and they fell into a comfortable companionability. Words flowed more easily between them. Thomas deftly guided her around puddles and positioned himself closer to the street to guard her from the wayward splashes of passing vehicles. He’d made her laugh—truly laugh—for the first time in weeks with an inappropriate story of how he’d literally fleeced a man out of nearly every scrap of his clothing at Duke’s three months prior.
They shared a meal of warm tea served with fresh bread and rich venison stew—while perhaps less refined than its usual selection, it was a wise menu for a day such as this. It was surprisingly comfortable fare given the location of the establishment, but Nora didn’t complain because it was deliciously well-done and precisely what she needed on such a day. Both the food and the laughter warmed her from the inside-out.
After Thomas paid for their meal, he escorted her back out into the walkway. A rumble of thunder sounded just as they did so. Nora tilted her head back to look at the ominous clouds just as a mist surrounded them.
“I do believe our luck with the weather has run out.” She glanced around and realized that she’d been without her umbrella the entire day. “Curses,” she muttered. How could she have forgotten it? Moreover, how had she not realized she’d been without it this entire time? “You,” she accused, whirling on Thomas. “You distracted me and I forgot my umbrella.”
Thomas held up his hands in mock defense. “I thought you were a grown woman fully capable of taking care of yourself. Blaming me for forgetting your umbrella on a day such as this does not seem in line with that assertion.”
Nora glanced up and down the streets, but it seemed as if the whole of London had been wiser than they. Only a couple of pedestrians milled about and the few hacks around had already been hired and were carrying their fares to their destinations.
“There’s nothing to be done about it now,” Nora grumbled as another low rumble of thunder raced across the sky above their heads. “I should start walking back toward home and hope I can hail a hack along the way.”
“Nonsense,” Thomas said, grabbing her arm to keep her from walking off. He gestured in the opposite direction, deeper into Mayfair. “Ivy House is only three blocks that way. It is much closer and I would prefer you travel in the Bexton carriage rather than a hired one. I can see you home.” His kind blue eyes pleaded with her to agree, and she found she was still quite helpless when faced with their soulful depths.
“Very well.”
No sooner had the words left Nora’s lips than the skies opened up, a literal sheet of rain dropping upon them as if the angels had conspired together to douse the whole of London in one fell swoop.
“Come along!” Thomas ripped off his beaver hat so it wouldn’t blow away and grasped her gloved hand in his; together they bolted through the deluge.