Capturing the Viscount (Rakes and Roses Book 1) Read online

  Laura rolled her eyes, walking arm in arm with him down the main staircase.

  He laughed lightly. "It's not been all that bad, has it?"

  Laura thought about it. "No, not really. It's just... Well, I think I might have built up the entire marriage experience into something it's not."

  Gregory Parrington led his daughter across the parquet floor of the entrance hall towards the kitchen wing. "No, my love, you have built the marriage mart into something it's not. Marriage, on the other hand," he said with force, "is quite the most wonderful thing you can find yourself in."

  Laura smiled at him, though his face was obscured by the dimness. "I think you're right." She sighed as they entered the cozy round kitchen with its thick square table and large hearth built into the wall. Shelves lined the room's walls up to the ceiling with all sorts of dried goods, baking materials, cured meats, cheeses, and thick sweetbreads. She sat down on a stool at the wooden table while her father went directly to the shelf with the block of chocolate he knew was kept there. He shaved off several small pieces of the dark substance, located two cups from in one of the cabinets, and stirred up the dying embers of the fire in the hearth. "But how does one go from all of this nonsense and posturing to being married? I can't even imagine being paired with one of those silly gentlemen for life." Laura watched as the Earl filled the cups with a combination of milk, cream, and sugar while the chocolate pieces melted in a pot over the fire. Though she was agitated over the subject they were discussing, her father's motions of the ritual they had shared since she was a child calmed her. She propped her head on her hand and imagined the gooey liquid the chocolate was turning into. Her mouth watered in anticipation. Her Papa made the best cup of chocolate this side of the Atlantic, she was sure.

  "Well, it's not an exact science, Dear One. Everyone has a different story of how they came to be with the one they are married to, but you must remember that not everyone has a happy story. Many people end up married to someone they do not love or whom they grow to resent over time. That's why you must be very careful to whom you open your heart." He stirred the chocolate with a wooden spoon and took the pot from the hearth. Very carefully, he poured a liberal amount into each cup and mixed it into both cups with a copper spoon. Bringing the steaming mugs to the table, he continued, "If none of the gentlemen you've met stir your heart or strike you as someone whom you can admire, then don't bother with the lot of them. You know that neither your mother nor I would ever encourage you to rush into anything with a gentleman just for the sake of being married, Laura."

  Laura scooted her cup closer and inhaled the delicious aroma of sweet, rich chocolate wafting from the cup. She blew on the liquid to cool it. "I know Papa. And I'm so very thankful for that." She thought about the men she had met so far and knew that none of them had stirred anything in her but mild distaste. Her stomach tightened. That wasn't entirely true. Remington Rothstone had stirred something in her other than distaste, but she wasn't sure exactly what it was. Confusion? Lust? Aggravation?

  "What if you're not sure of someone? What if you just can't figure out who they are or why they do the things they do?" She waved her hand in emphasis.

  The Earl smiled. "That is the fun part, then, isn't it? Finding out who someone is. Knowing what kind of person they are and if they are the kind of person whom you could come to love- that is the excitement of discovery, Laura. That is the way to fall in love. And that is the way to become married to someone who will bring you happiness for the rest of your life."

  Laura sipped her chocolate and tried to suppress the flutters of nervousness that her father's words awoke in her chest. "It all sounds very...vulnerable," she admitted.

  Her father frowned. "I've never known you to shy away from someone because you are afraid of them, my imp." He paused. "But you're right. It is vulnerable. Opening yourself up to someone and trusting them with your feelings is the most risky thing you can possibly do. However," he said pointedly, putting a hand on the top of her head. "It is also the bravest. And a risk of that sort is what can bring forth the most amazing results."

  Laura's throat tightened. She hoped she could live up to his words. Laura had never before doubted that she would eventually have the kind of marriage that her parents had: caring, trusting, happy. But now that it was her turn to try and let it happen, it seemed almost impossible to let a practical stranger wreak havoc on her emotions. Perhaps she had never considered the before part of her own parents' marriage. She had just always seen them so in love and content and perfect together that she hadn't thought about the fact that they couldn't have always been that way. They, too, had to have met as strangers at some point and, not knowing what the future held, let themselves fall for the other.

  What an exhausting prospect! Laura gulped. She had never been a guarded person up to now. She had grown up trusting the people around her and assuming that those she met were good. But, when it came to romance, it seemed that it was quite a bit of work to allow oneself to be under the influence of another. Maybe it was the false sincerity of all the overly dramatic men she had met in London. Her sense of trust had been wounded. In the course of only a few days, Laura had come to be deeply suspicious of most everyone she met here, as if none of them could possibly be genuine.

  The Earl was silent as Laura contemplated these things, knowing that she needed to sort out her own thoughts. She had always been one for analyzing things, whether they were gadgets and gizmos, or people. He suspected, though, that she hadn't had much experience in the way of making sense of gentlemen's intentions. One thing he knew for certain was that she would figure out a system of her own for judging the sincerity of those around her. London, he knew, was full of all different kinds of people, some with real kindness and others with real malice.

  Lord Parrington just hoped that Laura would learn to recognize the difference between the two. Because he wasn't sure that he could withstand seeing his little girl have her heart broken by the latter. And it was a possibility. In fact, though he didn't want to think about it, it was a likelihood. Most people, at some point in their lives, had their heart broken and their trust betrayed somehow. He knew he had when he had been young. The fact that Laura hadn't yet made him both happy and a little fearful.

  She had never dealt with the kind of selfishness and fear that made people do terrible things to one another. It was one of the reasons he had wanted to raise her in the country, away from the machinations of London's aristocrats. There, she had grown up with good people, and he could control who came and went on their placid estate. Here, she would have to fend for herself among the denizens of the fast-paced city. He had no doubt that she would eventually come through the experience of London's marriage mart with her beliefs and happiness intact. But in the meantime, it might prove quite difficult watching his only child suffer the unknowns of a society that could oftentimes be cruel.

  "How long was it after you met Mama that you knew you loved her?" Laura asked, interrupting his train of thought.

  He smiled. "Not long. Not long at all. But you mustn't take our story as Gospel. My good friend Colonel Briarhurst grew up next door to his future bride all of his life, and didn't realize he loved her until he was thirty two, after already marrying and burying another woman."

  "How sad," Laura murmured.

  "In a way, yes. But they are very happy now, with four children." Lord Parrington took their now-empty cups and placed them on the counter near the washbasin. "What I'm trying to say is, there isn't a scientific formula for knowing when you are in love or even if the person you love is the right one for you. You'll just have to stumble around until, suddenly, you know that you couldn't possibly be happy without someone."

  "That sounds terrible!" Laura exclaimed, rising from her seat.

  The Earl laughed and placed a kiss on her forehead. "Perhaps I'm bungling this all up, and you shouldn't listen to a word I say," he declared, leading them from kitchen and through the dim interior of the house.

 
; Laura covered a yawn. "No, Papa, I think you're very wise."

  The Earl wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Why, thank you, puppet. It's nice of you to say so."

  The cup of chocolate had done its work, and Laura could feel her eyelids beginning to grow heavy. She plodded up the stairs and took of her father in the hallway, then made her way to her own bed, which now seemed quite welcoming. As she settled into the soft counterpane, Laura wasn't sure if she felt reassured or only more confused after hearing her father's words. But before she could reflect further, sleep overtook her, for which her muddled mind was very grateful.

  Tonight, Laura was to attend the theatre with Georgiana Hammond and her family. She had penned a request to Gia as soon as she woke, asking what event her friend had planned to attend that evening. And thank heavens Gia had promptly sent a note back asking if she wanted to sit in her family's box with her at the theatre for the opening of Don Giovanni.

  For come hell or high water, she most definitely wasn't attending the Craigerton Ball.

  Laura did feel a bit guilty for ignoring her personal invitation from Lord Daniel Craigerton that she’d received weeks ago, as he was actually quite a pleasant gentleman, but there was nothing for it. She needed a break from the constant crowd of people whose only aim seemed to be in impressing each other with silly remarks, be they obsequious compliments or scathing insults. Mayhap she was being too harsh on her fellow contemporaries, but she felt exhausted simply trying to keep up with their barbed comments and loaded innuendos.

  It would be a nice reprieve to experience an opera, something she had never had access to in the country. She had heard wondrous things about the soaring voices of the vocalists on stage and the extravagant costumes they wore.

  But, as always, it seemed that the more important costumes were the ones the patrons donned for such events. Which was why, an entire three hours before she had to leave for Gia's family residence, her mother was supervising her wardrobe choice for the evening. Because there would be no dancing at such a gathering, dresses with trains and more voluminous skirts could be worn.

  In other words, people could show off more without fearing they would trip on their own clothes.

  Astoria flitted from wardrobe to wardrobe, selecting and discarding options faster than a pickpocket on Fleet Street. "No, no, no...too sedate," she muttered before taking off across the room to another row of silks, satins, and brocades.

  Laura, for her part, was mostly ignoring her mother, reading a novel from the comfort of her bed. Her mother's wardrobe deliberations could go on for at least another hour before she finally settled on a suitable choice, which Laura didn't mind in the least, give that her novel was quite engaging.

  "Aha!" Astoria declared, dragging a voluminous dress from the back of one of the wardrobes closest to the water closet.

  Laura looked up and watched as her mother smoothed out the lines of a royal blue ball gown, arranging it for perusal. "Where did you find that? I don't remember having seen it before."

  "That's because you haven't," Lady Parrington told her, smiling mischievously. "I had it made for you two years ago, but, unfortunately, your, er, womanly assets hadn't quite developed to be able to fill it out. But now..." She held it up, letting Laura take in its shape and style.

  It wasn't a complicated design. All velvet, the heart-shaped neckline with lace scraps of sleeves dove into a tapered waist that Laura knew she would have to wear a corset with. The dress then ballooned out into bud-shaped hoop skirts that ended in lace-trimmed petticoats of a lighter blue peeking out from beneath. The petticoats draped back behind the dress to form the hint of a train. It was very elegant indeed, a dress fit for a princess.

  "What do you think?" her mother asked, twirling it around.

  Laura pursed her lips. "I think I'm going to be very uncomfortable."

  Astoria smiled grimly. "Who said the Opera is supposed to be comfortable?"

  "Who indeed?" Laura muttered, adjusting her skirts to a better position in the cushioned seat of the opera box.

  "What was that?" Georgiana chimed.

  "Oh nothing," Laura sighed. Other than her corset stays digging into her waist and her dress taking up enough room for three people, she was actually quite enjoying herself so far. Even though the performance hadn't begun yet, there was plenty to see. Her mother had been right; everyone was dressed to impress in their finest clothes and heavy jewelry. Most of the young socialites hovered around each other, talking, laughing, and displaying themselves to their best advantage. A young lady in a low-cut, vivid orange dress was flirting outrageously with a man that Laura remembered had paid compliments to her during her first ball. It seemed he was quite receptive to the woman's advances because he whispered in her ear and received a smiling nod in return. Mentally, she checked him off her list. Sitting in the box with Georgiana, Laura was trying to avoid the crush in the foyer and the halls. Thankfully, her friend did not seem upset about missing the melee either. Gia's parents had gone to their friends' box to chat, and that circumstance had led some of the braver gentlemen to approach the box and attempt to engage the ladies in conversation. So far, yawning, fanning themselves, and repeatedly turning the conversation towards the gentlemen’s' mothers had encouraged them to move along quickly.

  "I can't believe Lord Pratley is letting that thing hang all over him," Gia hissed, leaning towards her.

  "Who?" Laura asked, scanning the crowd.

  "Lord Pratley," Gia repeated, pointing to him with her fan.

  It was the gentleman with the orange-clad flirt. "Oh, yes, I saw that. Who is the woman? I don't think I've seen her before," Laura commented.

  Gia snorted. "Well, you wouldn't have, would you? She's a courtesan."

  "A courtesan?"

  Gia looked at her, puzzled. "You know, a ladybird. Opera singer. Lightskirt." She waited a few seconds. When Laura's face did not register recognition, Gia added bluntly, "Whore."

  Laura's eyes widened. "Excuse me? You mean that woman is a lady of the evening?"

  Gia rolled her eyes. "That's what I just said."

  "Why is she here?"

  "She is probably a singer here, or a dancer. But they gain patronage from the young bucks who come to the opera house."

  "What do you mean, patronage?"

  "Well, they shop for men to pay for their favors on a long-term basis. Mistresses, you know. They set them up in a townhouse, pay for all their clothes and jewelry, and visit them whenever they want."

  "How do you know all this?" Laura looked at her in wonder.

  "Three older brothers," Gia grinned mischievously.

  "I'm not sure I could survive having that many brothers," Laura admitted.

  "There were times when I didn't either," Gia stated, but it was obvious from her tone that she was nostalgic about them.

  "How can they be so obvious?" Laura asked, her attention once again on the couple wound around each other amongst the crowd on the lower level.

  "The younger men are so besotted, they don't even care than their mother's friend could be watching them with her quizzing glass. And it's dark down there; he probably thinks no one can make him out. A lot of people simply turn a blind eye to it. The titled ones especially, have an unspoken license to do whatever they please, and no one says anything about it. The older men, and married ones, are much more discreet."

  "Well, I think it's despicable, flaunting themselves in front of people."

  "Oh, Laura, there's a whole world you know nothing about." Gia shook her head, her diamond earrings dangling from side to side.

  "Do I want to know about it?" she asked.

  "Probably not," Gia answered honestly. "But the subject matter of this particular opera is rather opportune," she said cryptically.

  In the next moment, several of the gaslights dimmed around the theatre, throwing the audience into shadow as the stage became more prominent. The light intensified there, and the red velvet curtains parted to reveal a stage set featuring a backdrop o
f a moonlit garden. For one tingling moment, Laura was reminded of the garden in the Rothstone's home, but this set contained a man who began to sing robustly in Italian. Gia's parents scooted into the box behind them, settling in quickly as more characters appeared onstage.

  Although Laura couldn't understand the words, as the scene progressed, it became clear that the main character, Don Giovonni, was quite the despicable scoundrel himself. Since the words of the vocalists were printed in English for the viewers in a pamphlet, Laura soon became immersed in squinting out the words between songs to keep up with what was going on. The soaring voices of the vocalists were magnificent, making the hairs on her scalp tingle in pleasure. In the country, there had been evenings of musical entertainment with some of the surrounding families, but Laura had never heard anything like the intense beauty of these actors' voices rising above the orchestra's accompaniment like offerings to God.

  "What are you doing?" Gia whispered behind her fan during the second act.

  Laura continued to concentrate on the pamphlet. "Trying to understand the plot. I don't speak Italian."

  Gia began to laugh. "Most people who go to the opera don't either. Everyone already knows the plot before they go. And if they don't, they just try and figure it out as they go along."

  "That's a terrible way to enjoy a play!" Laura exclaimed, lowering her opera glasses.

  Gia's parents seated behind them began to chortle. Her mother tapped Laura on the shoulder. "I agree, dear."

  Between the second and third acts, there began an intermission during which the patrons were expected to socialize and enjoy champagne and hors d'oeuvres in the public areas. Gia's parents bustled them out of the box and into the hall to meet some of their friends. Laura was introduced to several of the Hammonds' acquaintances and discovered that she liked their set much better than most of the people she had met thus far. She was chatting about the events of the opera with Mrs. Orlove, the young wife of a naval officer, when a gentleman whom Laura recognized approached the two women and bowed to each, taking their hands and pressing a kiss to their backs.