Page 16 of Vying for a Viscount
“I don’t think that would be wise. I also can’t imagine what business this is of yours.”
“It’s not. Although I do have a vested interest in my Black Knights.”
“Are we finished here?” He’d been tense since arriving thirty minutes earlier. The last thing he expected was an interrogation by Knight. Knight was someone he knew well since he headed up the Black Knights. Most of the time, he was in an odd mood; tonight, he was even odder than usual. Greyson would have thought it was because he’d applied for membership, but as he looked around the room, he noticed a few Black Knights in attendance, so that couldn’t be the reason.
“Yes, but please keep in mind what I said before you do something you regret.”
Without replying, Greyson moved to the first available chair and sat down. “Deal me in.” He removed several bills from his billfold. To his misfortune, he found himself at a vingt-et-un table. Glancing around the round table, he tried to hide his annoyance at the other three players. Miss Constance Sherman, her cousin and cousin’s husband, the Earl and Countess of Haversham. Greyson had courted Miss Sherman briefly a year ago. Their personalities were too different. It didn’t take him long to learn they would never suit.
“Miss Sherman, Earl, Countess,” he said as he picked up the one card the dealer had dealt him.
“Greyson,” Miss Sherman said with a smile. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“I’ve been quite busy these days,” Greyson replied to Miss Sherman. “I hope all is well with you?” He picked up another card and smiled inwardly as he held two tens. The object of the game was to get as close to twenty-one as possible without going over.
“I am very well, thank you for asking,” she replied, eyeing him like candy. Quite unsettling, to say the least. When he’d courted her, the typical roles had been reversed. He’d had to fend off her amorous advances. He knew if he had bedded her, she would have expected a marriage proposal, which he had no intention of making. He’d ended the courtship, to her disappointment.
“Another card, Greyson?” the dealer asked.
“No.”
“Then place your cards down, face up.”
He won the hand and received a nasty look from Miss Sherman, who held a jack and an eight.
Oh well. One shouldn’t gamble or play cards if one can’t lose graciously. After playing several more hands of vingt-et-un, which he lost, Greyson stood and bowed. “Ladies, gentlemen, since this is my first night at the club, I’d like to look around.” He would stay clear of the third floor, where ladies and men went looking for company. As much as his body needed relief, since it’d been months since he’d bedded a woman, he just couldn’t do it. The only woman he wanted in his arms and in his bed was Letitia, even if he wouldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to her. He couldn’t commit to a relationship just now because of the Black Knights.
Ever since the war with Napoleon ended, the people of England had been suffering and starving. People were out of work as machines replaced them. The new Corn Laws, since they were passed in 1815, limited the amount of grain that could be imported, which kept grain prices and profits high. This benefited landowners and farmers, but theworking classes were struggling to feed their families as food costs continued to rise.
The laws had been widely protested since they were passed—it wasn’t hard to see why—but ever since the Pentrich Rebellion in June, Greyson had been particularly busy. The uprising, led by Jeremiah Brandreth, had ended badly. He had believed he would lead his group of farmers, knitters, and out-of-work industrial workers, armed with crude weapons, to Nottingham, where they would meet fifty thousand other men and then march on the Tower to demand government reform by force. Unfortunately, they had been deceived by a man—an informant and agitator—who approached Brandreth and encouraged the march. Light Dragoons stopped them long before they made it to London, and Brandreth and several other men were now awaiting execution. Greyson was still cleaning up that mess in his work as a Black Knight, as the repercussions from that rebellion weren’t over yet.
More and more rebellions were occurring in smaller groups. The Black Knights were tasked with keeping the peace and dispersing the protesters without bloodshed. They hoped to reach them before the local militias, Light Dragoons, yeomanry, or infantry soldiers arrived, drew their weapons, and made arrests. Most often, they arrived too late. Sometimes Greyson felt as though the Black Knights weren’t doing enough or making any difference. While Prinny still feared a copy of the French Revolution happening in Britain.
Greyson poked his head into a few doors, finding a billiards room, a library, and several salons. Having seen enough for one night, he made his way to the door and retrieved his coat, hat, and gloves from the doorman.
“Leaving so soon, Greyson?” Knight said from a dark corner of the entry hall. The man could make himself invisible in broad daylight.
“Yes, I feel the sudden urge to be alone.”
“I totally understand.” He paused, then stepped farther into theentry. “Remember what I said—bring Lady Rutherford next time. I would love a formal introduction.”
“I will take it under advisement.” Greyson walked to his carriage and told his driver, “Home, Hughes.”
When he finally arrived home, he dismissed his valet for the night and prepared for bed. Lying in bed on his back, he willed his exhausted mind and body to sleep. It wasn’t easy. It took over an hour of reliving the time in the garden with Letitia and then his visit to Club Knight before he finally fell asleep, a particular blue-eyed, beautiful lady smiling up at him in his thoughts.
Chapter Six
The following morning,after she was dressed in a pretty pink linen day dress, she visited Simon in the nursery to find him having breakfast. She sat with him for a time, then made her way to the morning room to break her fast. After descending the stairs to the entry hall, she saw a lovely vase of hothouse roses in a variety of colors on the entry hall table. Her heart flipped with excitement as she plucked the card tucked among the roses. There was one word scribbled on the card. “Greyson.” She flipped it over and over, hoping for more words, but alas, there were none. She fought her disappointment. So he was a man of few words. She could live with that. The important thing was that he sent her flowers. Roses in a rainbow of colors. Perhaps he would call upon her today?
As a footman approached, she said, “Please have these flowers brought into the family drawing room.”
The footman bowed. “Yes, my lady.”
Letitia continued into the morning room, where filtered sunlight streamed through the large windows. It was one of her favorite rooms in the house. On a sunny day, she could enjoy her morning meal, the warmth of the sun invigorating her and giving her the energy to start her day. Not that she ever had much to do during the day, but she loved knowing she could accomplish anything that came along.
A footman entered the room with her plate and hot chocolate. Shenever had the cook bother with hot plates on the sideboard, filled with all kinds of food. She was one person and preferred the same breakfast every day. Two buttered eggs, sausage, and toast with cream and jam. If she ever wanted something different, she had Jane pass it along to Mrs. Woods, the cook.
After she ate, she made her way to the family drawing room. When she entered the room, decorated in shades of blue and cream, and saw the roses from Greyson on the table beside the settee she always sat on, she smiled. She picked up the embroidery she had been working on from a basket on the other side of the settee and sat down. Even though she hadn’t known if she would see Greyson again, she had started a set of four handkerchiefs with the initials ARF for Archibald Robert Fitzroy. She was using thread in black, gray, and red. She was on the second one and had no idea if she would ever give them to him. Still, it gave her something to do. She’d made enough pillows and pillowcases over the years; she had a small cedar chest filled with them.
