The Reluctant Viscount. Lara Temple

act of folly she demands that the only way to make amends is to erase myself from our family’s life and disappear. She didn’t even have the decency to write to me when Father died. She left that task to Sybil and Cammie. But that knife cuts both ways. I promised myself that was the last time I would do what was proper. I didn’t just erase myself from my family’s life. I erased who I was. So now I can do whatever I want and be accountable to no one.’

      ‘Well, you can certainly do almost anything you want. But I would argue against your being accountable to no one. You took pretty good care of me when I was sick in Punjab, for example.’

      Adam smiled, relaxing.

      ‘I would have done the same for my horse. Besides, I was responsible for you, in a way. I never understood why you decided to come along. You should have stayed at Oxford, then gone home to Berkshire and married one of those pretty little ladies you were always rhapsodising about.’

      ‘There you have it in a nutshell. Unlike you, I always wanted to live an adventurous life and being a third son meant there wasn’t much for me to do back in Berkshire, lovely ladies or not. I knew an opportunity when I saw it. That’s not to say there weren’t days I would have much rather stayed safe at home and I won’t be going back to that particular village in Punjab in this lifetime, but all told, joining you was the best decision I’ve made. So, get this dilapidated old mausoleum into shape and let’s return to London, where we can continue to reap the fruits of our labour. As long as you don’t fall back in love with the mercenary Rowena now that we are in the neighbourhood. Is she very beautiful?’

      Adam frowned in concentration.

      ‘I think so.’

      ‘You think so?’

      ‘It was a long time ago. I thought so at the time, but I can’t quite remember what she looked like.’

      ‘For heaven’s sake, Adam. This is the woman who broke your heart and you can’t quite remember what she looks like?’

      ‘I’m certain she had blue eyes. Everyone kept going on about cornflower orbs.’

      ‘Blast you, Adam, you’re about as romantic as a wet boot. How do you have such luck with women?’

      Adam grinned.

      ‘Luck has nothing to do with it. But I will certainly continue to leave the romance to you, you old fraud.’

      ‘Well, I admit to being curious about the woman who was your Helen of Troy and catapulted you into battle, so to speak. She must be ten years married now, which is all for the best. Bored matrons are the easiest of prey. Imagine, Adam—if she had not been such a devious fortune hunter, you might even now be the proud owner of a brood of cornflower-eyed brats.’

      ‘Thank the heavens she was, then.’ Adam stretched lazily. ‘As much as I resented it at the time, Miss Drake was right—marrying Rowena would have been one version of hell. And getting my pride handed to me so brutally has been very useful. Life has been much more enjoyable since. Sometimes it amazes me to remember just how serious I used to be. And stupid. I honestly thought Rowena was the embodiment of all that was good and right in the world. Unbelievable. As you said yourself, it was the best thing that happened to me.’

      ‘Probably,’ Nicholas conceded. He glanced sideways at Adam. ‘Still, it is strange that you can’t even remember what this beauty looks like. Seems to me you remember this Miss Drake quite well.’

      ‘The Drake household was singularly unforgettable. It couldn’t have been any more different from mine. She was a wild little thing with big eyes and her hair in a ribbon, and a mind which would have done an Oxford don proud. The last thing I thought she would become was a pattern card of propriety. Still, the fact that she dared come here, and unchaperoned, shows there is still something of that wilful girl she hasn’t managed to tame.’

      ‘I still don’t quite understand why she came to you about her cousin and not to her father.’

      ‘She has an overactive sense of duty and her father has none at all. He is one of the most self-centred people I’ve ever encountered, which is saying a great deal. Unfortunately for her I also don’t have quite the same tribal loyalty. Percy is hardly my concern.’

      ‘So Miss Drake and her little heiress “go to it”?’

      Adam’s eyes narrowed.

      ‘If you are reduced to quoting Shakespeare, I gather you disapprove,’ he stated, his tone flat. Nicholas shrugged.

      ‘Not at all. I’m just thinking you might. Disapprove, I mean. Remember I’ve known you since we were eight years old.’

      Adam stood up and walked over to the window, staring down at the gardens below.

      ‘I don’t know what she expects me to do. It’s not as if I have any influence over Percy and I refuse to buy him off. I’ll never be rid of him if I do.’

      ‘That’s true. The only thing that would convince Percy would be cold hard gold or a wealthier heiress.’

      Adam turned back towards Nicholas, his eyes narrowing. ‘You’re probably right,’ he said slowly.

      ‘I mistrust that look, Adam. Last time I saw it we almost ended up in an Indian jail.’

      Adam laughed, his intent expression lightening.

      ‘Don’t complain. That look, as you call it, earned you a nice fortune.’

      ‘And I’m grateful. I just don’t want to see you get into any trouble.’

      ‘What possible trouble can I get into in Mowbray?’

      Nicholas raised one brow quizzically. ‘Wasn’t the reason you had to leave England because of the trouble you got into in Mowbray? What if you fall back in love with the beautiful Rowena when you meet her again?’

      ‘Back in lust, you mean.’

      Nicholas shook his head.

      ‘I don’t know how you became so cynical, Adam. You’re worse than I am.’

      ‘That bad? Miss Drake attributes it to Rowena taking the man out of me.’

      Nicholas’s eyes opened wide. ‘She didn’t say that!’

      ‘She did. Straight for the jugular, or rather, below the belt. To be fair, she apologised.’

      ‘Well, that’s all right, then. My goodness, I wouldn’t mind meeting this peculiarity up close. So you’re really going to stay here for a while?’

      Adam shrugged and nudged a crate of crumpled documents with his boot. ‘I have to spend a couple of weeks on the estate anyway. The place is a shambles. Apparently neither Timothy nor Ivor had any idea what they were doing, the poor fools. Someone needs to oversee the workmen getting this mausoleum into shape until Thorpe can take over and I can’t leave all the negotiations with the tenants to him, at least not initially.

      ‘Besides, I have an idea about Percy which just might provide us some entertainment while I am marooned here. Remember when we met with Derek and Ginnie in London? She said she missed her days on the stage now that she was a respectable wife and mother. Perhaps she might like to spend a few days visiting the famous Mowbray spa in the guise of a wealthy widow. She should have no trouble attracting Percy’s attention.’

      Nicholas shook his head ruefully. ‘Ginnie would have no trouble attracting a blind man’s attention. She will love the idea and will no doubt talk Derek into approving it. He never could say no to her. Still, take care what you’re at, Adam,’ he cautioned, but Adam merely smiled.

      ‘For a rake, you’re a timid old lady sometimes, Nick. If you’re so worried, you can stay and keep an eye on me.’

      ‘London society is a bit thin during the summer months, so I just might linger for a while. And I’ll try not to cut you out with the beauty.’