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

Leorah stopped the groan that rose into her throat.

“Yes,” Mother said, “with the things we’ve been reading in the paper, we do not think he should be calling on Leorah.”

Mr. and Mrs. Mayson looked at each other. Leorah bit her tongue to keep from speaking.

“I know the things that have been printed about him seem very damning,” Mrs. Mayson said, “but I believe there will be something in today’s newspapers that will clear up any misunderstandings about Lord Withinghall’s character.”

Father thundered, “What the devil do you mean? He took a young woman and her baby to live in his house in Suffolk.”

Mr. Mayson, who had been in the card room when Lord Withinghall had confronted Mr. Pinegar, filled him in on everything Pinegar had said, including the fact that the woman everyone had assumed was Lord Withinghall’s courtesan was actually Pinegar’s.

“Well, now, that changes things. But I still don’t understand why he of all people should rescue Pinegar’s former courtesan from the workhouse.”

“May we please go to the sitting room now?” Leorah whispered to Felicity.

“Mother, may we not take our guests to the sitting room?” Felicity asked.

“Oh yes, of course.”

They all made their way down the stairs. By the restless way her father was glancing all around, Leorah knew he was about to suggest they leave to go to their own town house.

Suddenly, the servant announced Lord Withinghall and showed him in.

Father’s eyes lit up at the sight of the viscount, but Lord Withinghall’s expression was unreadable. No doubt he had not been expecting such a crowd of people. Leorah considered ordering everyone out of the room besides Lord Withinghall, but even she was not that bold and unmannerly.

They all sat down, taking up nearly every available seat in the room. Father dominated Lord Withinghall’s attention, while Mother talked with Mrs. Mayson. Felicity kept glancing nervously from Leorah to Lord Withinghall and back again. Then somehow the conversation turned to politics, and everyone was listening to Lord Withinghall speak of his education bill.

What kind of man—a wealthy, titled man—concerned himself with the education of poor children? A man who admired a woman like Hannah More and gave generously to a charity like the Children’s Aid Mission? And yet, when Leorah had first encountered him, she’d thought him stuffy and uptight and . . . awful. She had always prided herself on being a person who either liked someone or disliked them, someone who did not have complicated feelings. Well, her feelings had grown complicated, but now she was simply convinced her first impressions of Lord Withinghall had been completely wrong.

He had been there for twenty minutes when he suddenly said, “I must go. The House is sitting this afternoon, and I must be there.”

Leorah’s stomach sank. She would not be able to speak to him alone and hear what he had to say.

He was shaking her father’s hand, and her mother was saying that they must go as well.

“Leorah, come with us. We can send a servant later for your things.”

“I will see you out,” Lord Withinghall said.

Leorah quickly turned to Felicity. “Thank you for a wonderful visit.”

Felicity whispered, “Come to me if something happens.”

Leorah expressed her gratitude to Mr. and Mrs. Mayson, then faced the door, where Lord Withinghall stood waiting for her. There was an anxious look in his blue eyes. Her parents had already left the room. Lord Withinghall entered the hall just in front of her. He pulled something from his pocket, then turned and pressed it into her hand.

She held the folded square of paper against her skirts.

They proceeded through the hall to the front door and down to her parents’ carriage. Lord Withinghall handed her in.

Without a chance to even say good-bye, the carriage door was closed, and they started down the street the short way to their home.

“Did you have a good visit with your friend?” Mother asked.

“Yes, it was very good.” Leorah kept her hand over the paper in her lap.

“It sounds as if Lord Withinghall had a very eventful few weeks.”

“Yes. Mr. Pinegar has nearly murdered him three times.” Leorah laughed nervously. Mr. Pinegar would have to slink away like the snake that he was. Or he could even be hanged for what he did, if the Crown chose to prosecute him.

Father cleared his throat. “By Jove, that man has no one to blame but himself for losing his seat in the House of Commons come the next election. I don’t know what he was thinking, taking such a cowardly way of trying to kill someone. Why did he not just challenge Withinghall to a duel? That’s the gentleman’s way.”

Leorah sighed. How glad she was that the Maysons had refrained from revealing what Lord Withinghall had said about being in love with her. There was no knowing what Father would have said to Lord Withinghall.

She clutched the note in her hand and felt a frisson of excitement down the back of her neck.

Once they were home, Leorah said, “Are you not very tired, Mother, after your long drive? You must have risen quite early.”

“Yes, we did. We spent the night in Kent, at your aunt’s, but I slept very ill.”

“I shall leave you alone to rest then,” she said. “I’ll be in my room.”

Leorah fairly flew up the stairs. When she had closed the door, she threw herself on her bed, which the servants had not yet made ready after the long winter away. She unfolded the letter and read the confident, sprawling, distinctively male handwriting:



Dear Miss Leorah Langdon,

If you are reading this letter, then I have been unsuccessful in speaking with you alone. But I cannot allow another day to go by without conveying to you my feelings.

You may have heard me say last night at the Colthursts’ ball that I was in love with you. But though I asked you to marry me once before, I want to explain how much I have come to admire you—for your heart of compassion and your life of purpose in a world in which such things are rarely, if ever, encouraged, a world where face and figure and accomplishments such as embroidering and simpering are prized above true character. You are a woman of great worth who has risen above society’s ideals, and I have come not only to admire you but to adore you as my heart’s desire.