The Viscount's Kiss. Margaret Moore

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The Viscount's Kiss - Margaret Moore Mills & Boon Historical

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he would, and she would accept it. “The women on that island you were describing at supper—would they consider you a proper gentleman, if they knew what behavior was expected of one?”

      “Yes, they would,” he firmly replied. “I acted in complete accordance with their customs and beliefs.”

      “As I have done nothing wrong.”

      “Perhaps not,” he replied, “but either you are some kind of cheat or criminal, or you’re running from someone or something. If it is the former, I am duty-bound to hold you here. If it is the latter, I ask you again to allow me to be of assistance. But whatever your answer, I’m not going to allow you to go wandering about the countryside at night. It’s too dangerous and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

      Whether he was genuinely concerned for her safety or not, she could see his determined resolve and realized he wouldn’t leave until she gave him an explanation that was both feasible and believable.

      She would have to come up with one.

      Remembering what the driver had told her about Lord Bromwell’s father and the way he’d chastised his son, she put down her valise, which contained her clothes, her toilet articles and three of Lady Sturmpole’s gowns.

      Spreading her arms in a gesture of surrender, she spoke as if reluctantly revealing the truth. “Very well, my lord. You are quite right. I am Lady Eleanor Springford and I am running from someone—my parents and the Italian nobleman they’re trying to force me to marry. The count is rich and has three castles, but he’s old enough to be a grandfather and lecherous into the bargain. He has twice as many mistresses as manors and, despite his age, gives no sign of wishing to be loyal to a wife. That’s why I ran away and have no maid or servant to accompany me.”

      “This is the nineteenth century, not the Dark Ages,” Lord Bromwell said, his brow furrowed. “Surely you could simply refuse the betrothal rather than running away alone and putting yourself in danger.”

      She walked to the washstand and toyed with the end of a towel. “I suppose one can’t expect a man who’s been free to travel the world to understand the pressure than can be brought to bear upon a woman to marry, especially if the groom is a very wealthy aristocrat and her family not as rich as people believe.”

      “Actually, I can,” Lord Bromwell said from where he still stood by the door. “My parents were far from pleased with my choice of career and my mother begged me not to go on my last expedition, so I do know something about parental expectations and coercion. Yet surely they would have relented in time. I daresay they’re frantic with worry about you now.”

      “Perhaps. I’m unfortunately certain they’re searching for me, although I hope they’re still looking in Italy.”

      “You’ve come all the way from Italy by yourself?” he asked with undisguised awe.

      She’d really come all the way from Yorkshire, but she couldn’t admit that, either. “Yes, our family went there for my father’s health.”

      That was what Letitia Applesmith had told them and Lady Sturmpole had confirmed during an afternoon of gossip with a friend that Nell had dutifully endured.

      Lord Bromwell’s frown deepened and she wondered if he knew something she didn’t about the Duke of Wymerton or his family, until he said, “Yes, I believe my mother mentioned that.”

      “Travelling alone wasn’t as difficult as I feared,” Nell said, relieved. “Most people were very kind, especially the women, who guessed, I think, that I was fleeing an unhappy domestic situation. Sometimes a man made an unwelcome remark, but no one touched me until…well, until you, my lord.”

      He blushed like a bashful boy, and she hurried on, not wishing to dwell on that encounter. “It must have been the shock of the accident that made me tell you my real name and I beg you not to reveal it. You’re so famous, the press is bound to hear about the coach overturning, and perhaps learn who was with you. I’m hoping to get to the home of my godfather, Lord Ruttles, in Bath as quickly as possible. He will take my side and protect me, I’m sure.”

      “I see,” the viscount said, regarding her with such genuine, kind sympathy, she felt like the worst, most degenerate criminal in the world. “Do you have any money? Or is the lack of it the reason that you’re sneaking out?”

      Trying to ignore his sympathetic expression, she said, “I have a little money left, but not enough to pay for this room.”

      “I shall gladly assume that cost.”

      She was sure he could afford it, so she didn’t protest. “Thank you, my lord.”

      “Despite your success thus far, I am not comfortable allowing you to continue your journey alone and short of funds. Would you consider accepting an invitation to my family’s estate? It’s a few miles outside Bath. You’ll be safe from pursuit there, and you can send a message to your godfather to come to you there.”

      His cheeks colored and his gaze drifted to the floor. “You need not fear that I shall attempt to take advantage of the situation, or of you.”

      Recognizing his generosity for the disinterested kindness it was, she was grateful, even if she couldn’t accept his offer. “Thank you, but I couldn’t impose and I think it would be better if I don’t involve you or your family in my troubles, my lord.”

      “As you wish,” he replied, his disappointment obvious, although his tone was still kind and concerned. “However, you must allow me to pay for your room tonight and provide you with sufficient funds for the rest of your journey.”

      He reached into his trouser pocket and produced a wallet of thin, soft leather. He opened it and drew out several ten-pound banknotes.

      She didn’t want to accept, but she needed the money. “Thank you, my lord,” she said, taking the bills he held out to her and folding them in her hand. “I shall never forget your generosity.”

      Or your kiss.

      “I shall repay you as soon as I can.”

      Whenever, if ever, that might be possible, and provided she wanted him to learn that she had deceived him.

      He smiled, looking incredibly handsome and virile in the moonlight. “I must say I didn’t expect to have such an exciting, eventful coach ride to Bath.”

      “Neither did I. I don’t know what we would have done after the coach overturned if you hadn’t been there.”

      “I’m sure you would have managed. You’re obviously an intelligent, resourceful woman.”

      Coming from another man, that might not have seemed a compliment. Coming from him, however, she was sure it was. “As you are a most courageous, chivalrous man.”

      He began to walk closer. She waited, holding her breath, expecting—hoping for—another kiss.

      Until he immediately halted a few feet away. “I had best get back to my room before I’m discovered here and explanations are required. I wouldn’t want our reputations to be ruined, although mine is already subject to some speculation.”

      Tucking the notes into her bodice, she followed him to the door, sorry for the lies, wanting him to know she was truly

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