The Reluctant Viscount. Lara Temple

       Chapter Two

      Adam remained standing for a few minutes after she left, staring at the door, his mouth flat and stern. He stared down absently at the estate accounts and papers that littered the desk, but turned when the door opened. The man who entered was tall and dark-haired like him, but his eyes were a rich warm brown and right now alert with interest and a hint of amused mischief.

      ‘I thought we were going for a ride? Or are you too busy being besieged by young ladies? I just saw a very pretty specimen wander off through the garden. The English countryside must have changed quite a bit since my boyhood if young women feel free to call on bachelors unattended, especially bachelors of your dubious reputation. Or is she perhaps an old friend, here to renew your acquaintance?’

      Adam shook his head ruefully at the innuendo.

      ‘Miss Drake doesn’t quite fall under any conventional category, Nick. But she most certainly did not come here on any romantic mission. At least not on her own account. She wanted to enlist my help in spiking Percy’s guns. It seems he has got his mercenary sights on an heiress.’

      Nicholas Beauvoir cast a critical eye at the worn and faded chairs, then sighed and sat down, propping his immaculately shining boots on a low table.

      ‘Good for Percy. Why, does that pretty little thing want him for herself? She hasn’t a chance unless she’s wealthy.’

      ‘Hardly. She likes Percy less than I do. Apparently her little brother is sweet on the heiress, so Miss Drake is guarding the sheep while her brother is off at Cambridge. And she wants me to help chase off this particular wolf.’

      Nicholas opened his brown eyes wide.

      ‘A very primped and pomaded wolf. But why on earth would she expect you of all people to do that?’

      ‘No idea. She seems to think it is my duty now that I am the head of this misbegotten family.’

      ‘I don’t know why anyone would expect that,’ Nicholas said reasonably. ‘They never wanted anything to do with you until Ivor died without male issue. Who would have thought that old Lord Delacort would drop dead and lose two sons to mishaps in a mere five years? If you hadn’t been halfway around the world at the time, I am sure they would have found a way of laying the blame at your door.’

      ‘I wish one of them at least might have waited until they had sired a son before they died. It’s bad enough being saddled with getting this ruin into some semblance of order, I certainly don’t need furious little bluestockings stomping in demanding I do something about Percy’s fortune hunting.’

      Nicholas’s brows rose. ‘Is that what she is? She didn’t look the part. How on earth do you even know her? She must have been little more than a child when you were booted out of the county.’

      ‘I don’t know, she must have been around sixteen or seventeen. And I know her because amongst other things she very kindly tried to warn me off Rowena. To be fair she was spot on—she told me she was sorry that I was about to be hurt, but Rowena was leading me on and had no real intention of marrying me because I was quite poor and that it was probably all for the best, since she would make me miserable if I were unlucky enough to marry her.’

      ‘Good God! I would wager you didn’t appreciate the lecture at the time.’

      ‘I remember hoping she’d fall out of the tree.’

      ‘What tree?’ Nicholas asked, bemused.

      ‘The lecture was delivered from a branch of the Hungry Tree, so named for its tendency to capture and demolish her siblings’ balls and kites. Their cottage is on Rowena’s family land and Miss Drake and her siblings were always underfoot somewhere.’

      ‘Why the devil was she was up in the tree?’

      ‘Rescuing a ball, I think. I offered to help and got that lecture for my pains. And she said I was too fat.’

      Nicholas leaned back, clearly enjoying himself.

      ‘Too fat? You?’

      ‘Well, too big to help on any but the lowest branches. I was still in my chivalrous phase, but it was wasted on her. I forgot to mention she used to go around in breeches, of all things. It was the strangest household. Her father was always upstairs in his study, writing abysmal poetry, and I think I saw him less than half a dozen times the whole time we lived in Mowbray. Her siblings were always either up to some mischief or following Alyssa about like a tribe of Indians. They were a law unto themselves.’

      Nicholas frowned.

      ‘She didn’t look wild.’

      ‘Not wild, precisely. Despite the breeches and the tree-climbing she was trying very hard to turn her ramshackle tribe into a proper little brigade. She used to tutor them en masse out in the garden so they wouldn’t bother their father. She roped me into teaching them some Greek plays. It was very odd. The youngest one was seven, but they all sat there on the grass and drank in Antigone and Oedipus.’

      ‘Oh, no, Adam, not Oedipus!’

      ‘That’s what I thought, but she insisted. She said it was important they know the classics. I toned it down as much as I could. They were a good audience—the only ones who showed any interest in what I was studying. My parents certainly never did. The only reason they consented to my going up to Oxford instead of starting work with old Delacort’s estate agent right away was because I received a fellowship. That way I would be up there at Trinity earning old Delacort’s goodwill by making sure Ivor did enough not to get himself sent down. Anything to insinuate us further into the Delacort social fold. My mother always made it clear that the chief redeeming feature of becoming plain Mrs Alistair was the Delacort connection. She was the reason we came to live in Mowbray on old Delacort’s charity in the first place. She always hoped Timothy and Ivor would take at least one of my sisters off her hands, preferably both. Until I ruined everything, that is.’

      ‘Yes, your mother is a piece of work, all right. Now that I think about it, you haven’t said a word about your family since we returned to England. She should be delighted now that you’ve come into the title and estates, no?’

      Adam picked up the bust of Heraclites from his desk and walked over to place him on the mantelpiece. He stood for a moment considering the morose face and his own reflection beyond it, then turned his back on both.

      ‘“Delighted” is a word I wouldn’t associate with my mother. Now that my sisters are eligibly married the benefit of my newly elevated status is minimal, certainly when balanced against my tarnished reputation. I think now that my father is dead she prefers to remain safely in Northumberland to bask in the borrowed glory of my sisters’ husbands. And thank goodness for that. I am very comfortable with the current arrangement where any communication between us is through my sisters.’

      Nicholas shook his head.

      ‘I