Whispers of the Heart by Rose Pearson
Chapter Thirteen
“Ithink she has done well.”
Geoffrey grimaced, watching as Miss Whyte moved away from Lord Hyndford and Lord Silverton. Thus far, things had worked out very well indeed, for she had managed to talk to both gentlemen together and, in doing so, had set them up against each other. All the same, he did not like the obvious and apparent nature of their interest in her, for it was as though they were already vying for her attention by their words and their nearness to her.
“Thank goodness Lord Hughes arrived when he did,” he muttered, as Lord Stratham chuckled, his face half-hidden in the darkness. “Let us hope that Lord Silverton and Lord Hyndford have something more to discuss now.”
Lord Stratham nodded.
“It looks as though they have,” he said, as both he and Geoffrey remained close to the wall, shadows lingering around them as they watched the two gentlemen now speaking with increasing gesticulation. “Something has upset them, it seems!”
“They are leaving,” Geoffrey muttered, seeing Lord Silverton gesture to the open French doors which were only a short distance away. “No doubt they will wish to talk where they cannot be so easily overheard.”
“Which means we must be cautious,” Lord Stratham cautioned, as Geoffrey nodded. Together, they moved forward, following the other two gentlemen – but not before Geoffrey had cast a long look in the direction of Miss Whyte. She was dancing with Lord Hughes but, just as he glanced in her direction, her head turned, and she caught his gaze. It was only the briefest of glances, but it captured Geoffrey’s heart. She smiled and then turned away, her steps in time with Lord Hughes, but it was all that Geoffrey needed. Smiling to himself and filled with a new sense of confidence, he followed Lord Stratham and made his way out to the darkness.
* * *
“You need not do anything!I can manage the matter without help.”
A hard laugh came from Lord Silverton and Geoffrey’s brow furrowed.
“I do not think so!” Lord Silverton exclaimed, his voice making its way out from between the shrubs towards Geoffrey and Lord Stratham. “You think that if you speak to the French and return Lord Brigstock, then Miss Whyte will be much more inclined towards your offer of courtship than mine!”
“She is already more inclined towards me than to you,” Lord Hyndford spat, there being clearly no love lost between the two men. “Besides which, I am much better acquainted with the French. I have three men that I could write to at this very moment!”
“But could you be assured of their reply?” Lord Silverton retorted, his voice harsh and grating. “I could send word to Barbeau or Fournier and they would not even hesitate to reply!”
“Whereas Janvier or De la Rue would not only reply but would send Lord Brigstock with that reply!” Lord Hyndford said, his words sending a thrill down Geoffrey’s spine. “If you think you can steal the lady from me, then I tell you now, you are quite mistaken!”
“You are both mistaken.” Geoffrey, knowing that Lord Stratham was, by this time, sending some of his hand-picked staff to encircle Lord Silverton and Lord Hyndford so that they could not escape, stepped out of the shadows towards them. Making his way through the shrubs, he came to stand only a few steps away from them. “Miss Whyte will not be showing her gratitude to either of you.” He lifted his chin and planted his hands on his hips. He could not pretend that there was not a stab of pain in his heart as he spoke to Lord Silverton – a gentleman he had considered a friend – but he knew what his responsibilities were.
“Lord Ware.” Lord Hyndford’s voice was laced with hatred. “It seems that you are not as inclined towards the French as you said!”
He laughed horribly but Geoffrey did not flinch.
“No, I am not,” he stated, unequivocally. “But had it not been for Lord Silverton – a gentleman I thought I knew well and whom I believed was entirely loyal to the King – then I believe I might have been able to convince you.” Even in the darkness, he could make out two figures standing close to each other, grateful that the summer nights did not often become overly dark. “Lord Silverton, it seems that I do not know you at all, even though we had been friends for a long time.”
A harsh sound came from Lord Silverton, although Geoffrey could not tell whether it was out of frustration or fear.
“You have been heard speaking of your loyalty to our enemy,” Geoffrey continued, refusing to permit either Lord Silverton or Lord Hyndford to say anything more. From what they had said thus far, he did not think they deserved to say a single word. “There are consequences for treason, and you will both suffer the full extent of them.” He swallowed hard, unable to think of such a thing without difficulty, particularly when it came to Lord Silverton, but he did not pull back from it. “I may not have been able to discover all of your particular acquaintances, Lord Hyndford, but rest assured that I will.”
Lord Hyndford laughed again.
“I hardly think so,” he cried, something flashing in the moonlight. “We are not as foolish as you think, Lord Ware. Unlike you, we have not come alone!” He made to charge, and Geoffrey tensed, ready to defend himself, only for someone to intercept Lord Hyndford, knocking him to the ground. Geoffrey stood tall, seeing various figures emerge from the trees and knowing that Lord Stratham and the men in his employ had achieved success. Stepping forward, he made his way to where Lord Silverton and Lord Hyndford were now being held fast, glad when one of the men brought a lantern and held it high.
“We have achieved success!” Lord Stratham grinned, as Lord Hyndford and Lord Silverton glared furiously at them both. “You must thank Miss Whyte for me, Lord Ware. She was integral to our victory.”
Geoffrey let out a long breath, looking at Lord Silverton and Lord Hyndford. Lord Silverton would not raise his eyes to him, and Geoffrey’s heart ached for a moment. How had he been so mistaken in his friendship with Lord Silverton? How well Lord Silverton had hidden his true loyalties!
“I shall,” he said, turning on his heel abruptly and finding himself more than eager to remove himself from this situation so that he might once more be in Miss Whyte’s company. “Thank you, Stratham.”
* * *
“Miss Whyte… Ann.”
It had been a long evening and, whilst Geoffrey had managed his duties respectfully, there had been an ongoing longing to draw close with Miss Whyte. He had wanted nothing more than a few minutes alone with her, desperate to tell her that all was well and that they could now consider their future together. He had been thwarted from doing so, however, by the fact that he had been required to tend to his guests and to bid every one of them farewell.
Now, however, he was finally able to speak to her alone. He had walked into the parlor only a few moments before and had seen her there, standing in front of the small fire which had been left burning in the grate. The parlor was always left in such a way for his mother for, whenever she returned from an occasion, she always liked to take tea in front of the fire – no matter the hour! Geoffrey was relieved that, at present, his mother was nowhere to be found.
“Lord Ware.” Miss Whyte turned at once, hurrying over to him with her hands outstretched, her eyes searching his face. “Is all well?”
He caught her hands in his, smiling down at her.
“It is,” he said, softly. “You did very well, Ann.” His smile was a little wry. “It seems that their eagerness to court you was their impetus for arguing about what they ought to do next and, in doing so, they proclaimed their guilt to both myself and Lord Stratham, and his men who surrounded them, unbeknownst to them.”
Miss Whyte let out a long breath, closing her eyes as she did so.
“Then they are both captured.”
“They are,” he said, not wanting to give her any further details. “Their influence will have stretched to others, however. I am certain that there will be others within the ton who are also as they were.” Seeing her frown, Geoffrey inwardly chastised himself for speaking in such a way. “But that does not concern us at present. All that is of import is that we have succeeded in this particular endeavor and now can consider…” he pulled her closer, “other matters.”
Miss Whyte laughed softly and placed both hands around his neck. Every intention of Geoffrey’s not to kiss her was gone in an instant. He could not resist her, not when his heart had been longing for this moment. Lowering his head, he caught her lips with his, mildly astonished but also delighted when she responded with eagerness. Her fingers thrust through his hair as he wrapped his arms about her waist, holding her as close as he dared whilst his heart filled with an adoration for her which he could not contain.
“You must know that I love you, Ann,” he murmured against her lips, seeing her eyes open just a little as she looked up at him dreamily. “I adore you. My heart is claimed by you if you should wish to have it.”
Her eyes closed again, and she leaned against him, her head on his shoulder, her lips close to his ear.
“I do wish for it, Lord Ware,” she murmured, “but only if you will take mine in recompense.” Lifting her head, she looked up into his face once more. “For I love you in return.”
His heart swelled with a joy that he had never experienced before, and he spoke without thinking.
“Then we must marry,” he blurted out, seeing her eyes flare. “Ann, I cannot wait for another moment before…”
“Good gracious!”
They jumped apart in a moment, but it was much too late. Lady Ware was standing in the doorway, a picture of astonishment. Her eyes were wide, her hand still on the door from where she had pushed it open. Geoffrey began to stammer at once, gesturing to Miss Whyte.
“Lady Ware.”
Miss Whyte’s voice rang out across the room and, much to Geoffrey’s astonishment, she came to stand closer to him, clearly quite determined to make herself plain.
“You asked me if there was another gentleman I was considering and, whilst at the time I did not confess to it, I will tell you the truth of it now.” Miss Whyte smiled softly and looked up at Geoffrey, who slipped one arm about her waist, his worry fading away as he looked into her beautiful, silver eyes. “I am in love with your son, and he is in love with me.”
Geoffrey drew in a deep breath, seeing how his mother was now staring at him in utter shock.
“I have come to care for Miss Whyte, mother,” he said, plainly, “and had you not interrupted us, I would have finished asking Miss Whyte if she would consent to marry me.”
Lady Ware let out a squeak of astonishment, one hand going to her mouth although there was a sparkle in her eyes which betrayed her joy.
“Ann, my darling.” Geoffrey turned back to Miss Whyte, seeing how her face was lit up with expectation. “Might you consent to marry me? You know that I have come to love you and I swear to you that I shall do everything in my power to make each day as wonderful as this moment.”
Miss Whyte reached up and brushed her hand down his cheek, resting it there for a moment.
“My dear Lord Ware - Geoffrey,” she replied, her voice soft yet clear and holding a promise of her love which Geoffrey could not help but cling to. “Of course I will.”
