A Viscount's Proposal (The Regency Spies of London #2)

“No, no. I like hearing what you think of that lady. I admire her more myself, the more I hear you speak of her.”

“I appreciate her courage to speak the truth about the aristocracy, about the immorality and lack of decency amongst the upper classes—the same indecency that caused me so much pain as a boy, as my father was a perfect example of society’s moral depravity. Miss More represents both strength and morality to me. She is still fierce and active and not afraid of anyone, which I also respect. She cares about upholding the standards of Christianity by caring for the poor and not showing partiality in educating girls and boys.”

“Yes, I can see why you hold her in such high regard. I have been reading her work lately.”

“You have?”

“Yes, and I particularly liked when she said, ‘The chief object of the Gospel is not to furnish rules for the preservation of innocence, but to hold out the means of salvation to the guilty.’”

He reached toward her. But he pulled his hand back before he touched hers. “I think the two of you are rather alike.”

She must have given him a disbelieving look, because he said, “Truly. Neither of you will accept any nonsense or hypocrisy from society.”

She smiled.

“Neither of you care a whit about what people say about you, and you are both quite fierce in your defense of the poor.”

“I am humbled and honored to be compared to a woman you think so highly of.”

They were staring into each other’s eyes. How had she ever denied that he was a most attractive man? She could almost imagine being in love with him and marrying him, and she’d never imagined such a thing in her life. She felt herself blushing.

“Lord Withinghall, is that you?” an elderly woman called from behind him.

He took a breath, his chest expanding, and slowly turned—reluctantly, from the look on his face as he tore his eyes from hers—to nod a greeting to the Baroness de Tournay.

Since the baroness seemed to have no interest in talking to anyone but Lord Withinghall, Leorah excused herself and went to find Nicholas. He was receiving guests with Julia and Mother, and she walked up to him.

“Nicholas, please do not allow Lord Withinghall to go home tonight. He must stay, and you must send some men with him when he—”

“I was already planning to do just that,” he said. “But what does all this concern signify?” He leaned down as if to better examine her expression.

“I don’t know what you mean. I would be concerned for any of our guests if someone had been shooting at them.”

“Who was shooting at Lord Withinghall?” Julia, ever the discreet lady, kept her voice low.

“We don’t know.” Nicholas squeezed her arm soothingly. “But I will make sure he is protected.”

When the butler announced that dinner was served, they made their way into the dining room two by two. Leorah was not seated anywhere near Lord Withinghall.

When the long meal was over, they moved into the music room, where Mother asked one of their guests, a Miss Thompson, to play a Christmas song. When the gentlemen joined them, Lord Withinghall sat next to Leorah. But they were only just able to begin a conversation before someone joined them and began talking to Lord Withinghall, at which point Miss Thompson vacated the pianoforte and sat on Leorah’s other side and began asking her about her favorite music.

The rest of the night went similarly, as Leorah and Lord Withinghall would begin a conversation with each other only then to have someone approach and interrupt them.

As the guests began to leave, they smiled and expressed their enjoyment of the party. But there was nothing to distinguish it as a Christmas party except for the fact that Leorah’s mother wished them each a “Merry Christmas,” and a few of the guests responded with a tepid “Merry Christmas” as they took their leave of Leorah and her family.

Leorah glanced around and finally saw Nicholas speaking with Lord Withinghall, just the two of them in a corner of the room.

“Do not worry,” Julia said, touching her elbow. “Nicholas will convince him to stay the night. He will not let him come to harm.”

Compassion shone out of Julia’s eyes.

Julia and Leorah finished bidding a good night to their departing guests, then Nicholas approached.

“Lord Withinghall has agreed to stay, but he says he must leave in the morning. He will only be home a short time, as he will have to travel back to London and his duties there. But he will see us at the rally in Surrey in several weeks.”

“The political rally. Yes, of course.” Leorah pretended not to notice both Nicholas and Julia staring meaningfully at her.

Father and Nicholas began discussing something and hung back. As Julia and Leorah climbed the steps, Leorah felt strangely out of sorts.

“I don’t see why Christmas has to be such a dull, formal occasion. I happen to know that the servants’ Christmas parties provide much more amusement. When I was a child, the upstairs maid once told me that they play games—the same games people played in the Middle Ages at Christmastime—and they hang mistletoe, and if you’re caught underneath, you have to kiss the first man who approaches you.”

“Leorah! You would not want to embrace such a practice, would you?”

“It would depend upon the man, to be sure.”

“Leorah!” Julia laughed, as she usually did when Leorah shocked her.

“Besides, you must admit that Christmas parties are nothing more than sitting around having dull conversations.”

“Was Lord Withinghall so dull? For I saw you speaking with him several times.”

“No, he was not dull. It was everyone else. Inane gossip and asking after everyone’s family and discussing the weather and the roads. Reading a good book alone in one’s room would be more exciting.”

Julia patted her arm. “Perhaps something interesting will happen soon.” She smiled as if she knew something Leorah did not. “Besides, you’ll be going to London to stay with your friend Felicity, will you not?”

“Yes. In a fortnight.”

“Well, then, something exciting is sure to happen in London.”



Leorah encountered Lord Withinghall on the stairs the next morning as he was leaving.

“I am praying for you to have a safe journey home,” she said.

“Thank you very much. I hope you enjoyed the Christmas party last evening.”

“I think I would enjoy Christmas parties more if they were less similar to every other dinner party and more distinctly about Christmas. We have taken all the meaning out of Christmas. Doesn’t Miss Hannah More have something to say about that?”

“As a matter of fact, Miss Hannah More has said that the upper classes have turned a holy day’s festivities into a formal party of little or no significance, where people simply feast and gossip and forget what the day is about.”

“That is just what I think,” Leorah said. “At least during the Middle Ages, people had many traditions and ways of celebrating the day, giving gifts to their workers and to the poor.”

Lord Withinghall’s lips lifted at the corners. “Perhaps we shall renew the old traditions . . . someday.”