Mrs. Wivenly’s English was perfect; only the slightest hint of her French accent remained. She reminded Will of someone, but for the life of him, he couldn’t think whom. Will took the offered hand and raised it to his lips. “My father remembered him fondly.”
“Please have a seat. My butler, Bates, will bring tea.”
“Thank you.” Leave it to the English to insist on hot tea in the afternoon, even in these climes. “I’ve missed a good cup of tea.”
Her lips made an attempt to curve up and failed. “I’m afraid we are in quite a fix, and I do not understand how it came about. Yet Mr. Howden assures me we are indeed desperate.” She glanced down at her trembling hands and quickly clasped them together before looking up again. “I know nothing of the business.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “I haven’t known what to do.”
Mrs. Wivenly collapsed back onto the sofa, as if she didn’t have the strength to remain standing. He definitely couldn’t leave the family here, essentially alone without a man to look after them. Will took the chair opposite her. His aunt’s face was drawn into tired lines. Damn Howden. If this were England, Will would have the scheming piece of scum put on the next ship to the West Indies and hope he died along the way. As it was, he’d just have to kill him. Will leaned forward, taking one frail hand in his. “Please don’t worry. You did the best you could do by writing my father. You may leave all your problems to me.”
The strain in her countenance leached away, and her light brown eyes seemed less worried. She tucked a lock of dark brown hair behind her ear. Who the devil did she remind him—?
“Maman, Bates said Lord Wivenly had arrived.”
That voice. Will shot to his feet and stared at the doorway, which provided a perfect frame for Mrs. . . .God no,MissVillaret, as she moved from the sunlight into the darker interior of the room. He barely kept his jaw from dropping. She was even more striking than the last time he’d seen her. Though she still wore a gray gown, at least this one was fashionably cut. She should wear a color better suited to her, but of course, she was in mourning as well.
“Yes, my dear.” His aunt finally smiled. “We have been saved. Lord Wivenly shall take care of everything. Eugénie, this is William, Viscount Wivenly. My lord, my daughter, Miss Eugénie Villaret de Joyeuse.”
Keeping his eyes on her, Will bowed.How in the name of God could he have been so mistaken?The fat was in the fire now. He’d have to propose and quickly, before his aunt and subsequently his father and mother heard what he’d done.
His gaze caughtMissVillaret’s and her eyes widened, reminding him strongly of a deer about to bolt.
She backed steadily away from him, back from whence she’d come. “Maman, I forgot”—she glanced around—“. . . something. I’ll return immediately.”
One more step and she was out of the room, closing the door firmly behind her.
Mrs. Wivenly drew her brows together. “I fear I must apologize for Eugénie. I do not know what’s got into her.”
He did.
Damn.Andrew had been right. Will had managed to spring a better trap for himself than all the Miss Stavelys in England could have done. There was no way in hell he was going to explain to his aunt he’d been trying to ravish her daughter. More important was stopping Eugénie from getting away before he could secure her promise to wed him. Surely that would settle any thoughts she might have of telling her mother what he’d done. After all, he thought bitterly, marriage to a future earl would overcome much. He’d be leg-shackled, but at least he desired the woman. He’d enjoy every minute of bedding her.
Will wracked his brain for a reason to go after her. “Mrs. Wivenly.”
She smiled at him as if he was her savior. If only she knew the whole she wouldn’t be so sanguine.
“Please call me Aunt Sidonie. We are family, after all.”
That was better, he hoped. “Aunt Sidonie. There was one more thing I wanted to say.”
She nodded encouragingly. “Yes?”
“I met your daughter at the Whitecliffs the other evening.” Better to allow her to think that than tell the truth, and pray Eugénie spent enough time over there that his aunt wouldn’t become suspicious. “I want to ask for her hand in marriage.”
Aunt Sidonie shook her head as if trying to clear it. “My lord?”
“Will, if you please, Aunt. As you said, we are related.”
“Very well, then, Will. This is very sudden.”
If only she knew. “Yes.” If he was going to be struck down by the gods, it would be now. “It was love at first sight for me.”
She clasped her hands as if her whole world had righted itself. “If Eugénie wishes to marry you as well, who am I to object? This is exactly the sort of match I have always wanted for my daughter.”
Now all he had to do was convince Eugénie, but that would not be difficult. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll ask her now.” He bowed, started to walk out of the parlor, and stopped. “Do you happen to know where she is?”
“I just saw her go toward the wash-house. Down the stairs to the right. The servants will direct you.”
“Thank you.”
