Whispers of the Heart by Rose Pearson
Chapter One
Grimacing, Geoffrey chose to remain quite silent despite the call of his mother. He was most disinclined towards her continual insistence upon calling for him throughout the townhouse, even though she had many servants who could easily have either told her where he was at present or gone in search of him on her behalf.
“Ware?”
Closing his eyes, Geoffrey felt his lip curl but forced his irritation away. His mother was a little exuberant today, he knew and thus, he felt obliged to forgive her. Miss Whyte was due to arrive at any moment and he was sure that his mother had, since her first waking moment, done nothing but make certain that the place was prepared for the arrival.
“Ah!” The door swung open and his mother stood there, one hand pointing out towards Geoffrey. “There you are!”
“Here I am, mother,” Geoffrey replied, one eyebrow lifting. “Might I ask if there is something that you wish from me?”
He did not continue to hold her gaze but looked down pointedly at the papers on his desk, wishing her to understand that he was, in fact, rather busy. Lady Ware did not seem to notice this, however, for she swept into the room, waving her hands about as she began to speak.
“Where is the girl?” she exclaimed, her eyes wide. “You stated that she would be arriving shortly after luncheon and as yet, there is no sign of her!”
Geoffrey’s eyes strayed to the clock. It was only an hour since luncheon, and he did not feel any such frustration nor concern.
“I think that you are being a little impatient, mother,” he said, gently. “Miss Whyte will be with us as soon as she is able, I am sure.”
This did not satisfy his mother, for she sighed loudly and shook her head.
“I fear that something may have happened to her on the road,” she stated, her hands now at her hips. “She is all alone!”
“She is not alone, mother,” Geoffrey replied, firmly. “I have sent two maids as chaperones, and the coachman, groom, and footman will do very well. After all, they managed to get both of us to London without difficulty, did they not?” He eyed his mother who, after a few moments, nodded. “She will be here very soon, I am sure of it.”
Lady Ware opened her mouth, perhaps intending to rebuff him, only to shake her head and sigh heavily.
“I do hope that you are right, Ware,” she muttered, making her way to the window and looking out of it in a forlorn manner. “I must hope that she is safe.”
Geoffrey said nothing, allowing his gaze to rest on his mother for a short while. She was still very much a beauty, with dark tresses which held only a hint of grey and sparkling green eyes that he had inherited. He was appreciative of her concern for Miss Whyte, for it spoke of her kind and considerate character, but it also betrayed the anxiety and concern which seemed to fill so many parts of her life.
Perhaps that anxiety had come at the same time as his father – and Lady Ware’s husband – had died. It had been an unexpected passing, for the late Lord Ware had fallen ill and had left them only three days later. That had been some years ago now but still, Geoffrey felt waves of grief wash over his soul at the most unexpected of times, which left him wondering just how much grief his mother still endured. Mayhap that was why she now was so concerned over Miss Whyte’s arrival, he considered, tilting his head just a little. She had come to London with him solely because she would have a charge; someone to look after, to guide, and to consider at each turn. When he had first suggested it, Geoffrey had not been certain that his mother would agree and had been pleasantly surprised at her excitement. It seemed to have taken her out of herself and had now given her such a sense of purpose that Geoffrey was, despite his own uncertainty about the situation, rather pleased to see it.
If only she did not fret so!
“And you have never laid eyes upon this young lady?”
“I have not,” Geoffrey replied, as his mother twisted her head around to look at him. “As you are aware, Lord Brigstock and I were in the army together, before I was required to return.” He saw his mother’s lips twist and hid a smile, knowing how little she liked to discuss, or even mention, the war. “That gentleman was one of the bravest I have known, mother. There is nothing I would not do for him.”
Lady Ware nodded slowly but said nothing, turning her head back towards the window as though, the longer she stared, the more likely it was that Miss Whyte and her carriage would come around the corner. Allowing his faint smile to linger a little longer, Geoffrey turned his attention back towards his papers and tried to make sense of what was being asked of him. He had one letter from Lord Harrogate, who was still absent from England given that he had taken his new wife on a wedding trip, but who informed him that, when they returned, he wished to do all he could to continue assisting with the war effort. Geoffrey’s smile grew. Lord and Lady Harrogate were both excellent people and he would look forward to their return, knowing that he could certainly make use of Lord Harrogate’s skills, should it be required.
Hearing his mother murmur something more about the carriage being delayed, Geoffrey considered the fact that the lady that would soon be arriving in his home. Miss Ann Whyte was not known to him – indeed, he had never once been introduced to her – but he owed her brother a debt of gratitude that could not be forgotten. His eyes drifted to the small stack of letters that sat on one side of his desk. Every evening, the butler carefully placed them into one of the drawers of his study desk, whilst each morning, Geoffrey would take them back out again. These letters meant something to him and, given their importance, he wanted to keep them nearby. Giving into the urge growing within him, Geoffrey reached for them and shifted through the small pile until he found the one that he was looking for.
‘My sister is small, slight, and yet quite determined,’ he read, making certain to listen to his mother with only half an ear as she, yet again, gave voice to her worry. ‘She will be no trouble, I assure you. Her nature is sweetness itself and I am certain that, within only a few weeks, she will have an offer of matrimony. There is bound to be someone who wishes to take her! As always, my dear friend, I wish you the very best and thank you wholeheartedly for what you and your mother are willing to do for Ann.’
“Thanks are not required, old friend,” Geoffrey said quietly, looking down at the letter with a small, rueful smile. It was not as though Geoffrey had ever had any intention of refusing any request that came his way from Lord Brigstock, for Geoffrey knew he owed the man a great deal. Anything that Lord Brigstock had asked, Geoffrey would have instantly agreed to do, for the gentleman had given him his life and, had he not acted as he had, Geoffrey was quite certain that he would now be dead and buried, leaving his mother to mourn him. Lord Brigstock had been the one who had pulled Geoffrey from the battlefield, who had made certain that he had not been left to be discovered by the enemy.
Even now, Geoffrey could not quite recall what had occurred. He could only remember hitting the ground hard, and the harsh, gritty taste of soil in his mouth and nose before everything had gone black. Lord Brigstock had told him that his horse had bucked, fearful of the gunshots so close to them and that he had fallen, hard. On top of which, it seemed, one of the shots had gone straight through his shoulder – although, again, Geoffrey had not been able to recall a single moment of this event. When he had awoken, the surgeon had informed him of Lord Brigstock’s bravery in pulling him from the battlefield, despite the continuing gunshots and the incoming enemy. He had taken his life in his hands to save Geoffrey’s, and thus, Geoffrey was now indebted to him. Lord Brigstock had never demanded anything from him, however, and had stated that he did not require any sort of recompense, but Geoffrey had been determined. Therefore, when the request from Lord Brigstock came, Geoffrey had eagerly agreed to it, even though he had the sole intention of placing Miss Whyte into the care of his mother. He would have very little to do with the girl, for he had other matters to deal with, and none of them involved chaperoning a girl coming out into society!
A sudden, loud exclamation from his mother had Geoffrey starting violently, his letter crumpling in his hand for a moment.
“The carriage is here!”
Geoffrey rose to his feet as his mother let out a small, almost childlike squeal of excitement and hurried towards the door.
“Do come on, Geoffrey!” she exclaimed, calling him by his Christian name - something she did only when she was in a state of exultation or great sorrow. “The lady has arrived!”
He smoothed the crumpled letter, and placed it back on the pile, then glanced down at himself, to make certain his clothing was presentable before he made his way from the room. Much to his surprise, he felt a little nervous about meeting Miss Whyte. He did not know why, and certainly wanted nothing more than to push such feelings away, for he considered them to be quite ridiculous. There was no need for such nervousness, for the lady was not going to be a big part of his life. His mother would take care of her, and he would only have to converse now and again. Yes, he would make certain to introduce himself, to behave in a warm and friendly manner, but there was nothing else which was expected of him. Taking in a deep breath, he set his shoulders and made his way to the front door.
His mother was already standing there, waiting patiently for the young lady to enter. Her hands were clasped lightly in front of her, but Geoffrey could tell by the smile on her lips and the sparkle in her eyes that she was very excited indeed. He was glad of it, for to see her in such an uplifted state of mind was preferable to the sadness and grief which had been a part of her life for so long.
“I am sure you will have an excellent Season with the lady, Mother,” Geoffrey murmured, coming to stand next to her. “Thank you for your willingness to assist with this.”
Lady Ware smiled back at him.
“I have never had a daughter to chaperone,” she replied, quietly. “That is not something which I regret, nor something about which I am expressing sorrow. However, there is something wonderful in the notion of having a young lady to take to the London Season.” Her eyes brightened all the more. “This is not a burden to me, Ware. Rather, it will be a pleasure.”
There was nothing more for them to say, for the door opened just as Lady Ware finished speaking and, after a moment, Miss Whyte walked in to join them. Light streamed in from the doorway, making her profile hard to make out but Geoffrey did not hesitate.
“Miss Whyte.” Geoffrey bowed low, wanting to make certain that he welcomed the lady properly. “How very good to meet you. As you might have surmised, I am the Earl of Ware and this is my mother, Lady Ware.”
He gestured to his mother who hurried forward to take Miss Whyte’s hand.
“I am very glad to have you joining us for the London Season, Miss Whyte,” she said, eagerly. “But you must be tired after your journey.”
Geoffrey, who had been watching the footmen bringing in Miss Whyte’s trunks, finally turned his attention to the lady herself as she replied in the affirmative. The butler closed the door and his eyes adjusted, so that he was finally able to make out the lady’s features.
His breath hitched.
She was beyond his expectations. She had just removed her bonnet, and her fair hair curled gently around her temples, pulled back into a neat chignon. Her cheeks were a soft pink, she had a straight nose and full, flowing lips which were curved into a gentle smile. Her eyes were what caught him the most, however. They were like a thunderstorm, grey and swirling with hints of dark brown that Geoffrey was sure would change to gold should she laugh or smile with delight. They were framed by thick, dark lashes and Geoffrey could not look away. His heart was pounding painfully, his full attention now solely fixed on this young beauty who stood before him. All of his intentions of remaining far from her, of not being particularly involved in her interactions and meetings and the like, flew from him in an instant as the urge to know her better grew steadily.
“Ware?”
He cleared his throat abruptly, looking away from Miss Whyte and back towards his mother.
“Yes?”
“Miss Whyte must be fatigued,” she said, a note of chiding in her voice. “Mayhap we should offer her some refreshments before showing her up to her rooms?” His mother’s eyes were fixed to his, flaring wide for a moment as she waited, clearly having expected him to have already said something akin to this.
“But of course.” Geoffrey placed his hands behind his back, a little embarrassed that he had allowed himself to become so distracted and had done nothing but stare at the young lady rather than think of what he ought to be doing for her wellbeing! “Miss Whyte, the choice is yours. Would you prefer to rest for a time in your room? I can have a tea tray sent up to you. Or, would you wish to join us in the parlor for a short while before resting?” He spread his hands and tried to smile, aware of the flush which was now creeping up his neck. “We will not be offended, regardless of your choice, Miss Whyte, I assure you.”
“The journey has been very long and you must be tired,” Lady Ware added, as though trying to encourage the young lady to choose what was best for herself rather than what she felt would be the most proper.
Geoffrey kept his gaze pinned in place but found it difficult to look at Miss Whyte directly. He found himself still rather overwhelmed by her beauty and, given that he had not expected himself to be so affected, was now feeling very much on edge.
“You are both very kind,” Miss Whyte said, her voice soft and filled with a weariness that Geoffrey knew came from being overlong in a carriage. “I should very much like to rest, although I do hope that you will not think ill of me for avoiding your company!”
Her eyes flew from Geoffrey to his mother and back again, clearly anxious that she had offended them, but Lady Ware began to reassure her immediately.
“Not at all, Miss Whyte!” she exclaimed, as Geoffrey shook his head. “You are not upsetting or offending us in any way. We both quite understand that you require rest. After all, when I first arrived in London, I spent the first sennight here in the house! I did not go out to see a single living soul but instead sought only good food and plenty of rest.” She smiled and, much to Geoffrey’s relief, Miss Whyte smiled in return, relief etched into her features. “Now come, I will take you to your rooms.”
“Thank you, Mother,” Geoffrey said, as Miss Whyte looked up at him. “I will join you both for dinner.”
He inclined his head to Miss Whyte, only for her to stop in front of him rather than walking away beside his mother.
“Lord Ware,” she said, her voice still very soft, but with a streak of determination running through it. “I should not be happy to make my way through your house without first stopping to thank you for the generosity you have shown to both myself and my brother in permitting me to reside with you for the Season.” She lifted her chin a little more, taking in a deep breath as though she needed to draw up her courage before she continued. “It is very gracious of you, and I am grateful for the opportunity presented to me due to your goodness. I promise that you shall never have need to question my conduct nor my manner, for I intend to behave with all propriety and gentility, as I have been taught. I will bring no shame to my brother or to this household, I assure you.”
Geoffrey did not quite know what to say to such a speech, for he had never even considered whether or not Miss Whyte would behave with decorum. He had fully expected it from her but, he supposed, this short speech from the lady assured him that she understood all that would be expected from her during the Season. Clearing his throat a little gruffly, and seeing the pointed look from his mother, he inclined his head towards Miss Whyte once more, seeing the uncertain look in her eyes.
“Miss Whyte, I have every assurance from your brother that you are the most demure and respectable of young ladies,” he said, seeing the slight widening of her eyes as she took in what he had said. “I have every confidence in you. Do not have any concerns as regards my opinion of you, for it is already very good.” With a smile that he hoped was one of reassurance, he spread out one hand towards his mother. “Pray, go and rest now, Miss Whyte. I will speak to you again come dinner.”
Miss Whyte nodded, smiled briefly and then walked towards his mother, who quickly slipped her arm through the young lady’s and led her up the staircase to where her room was waiting. Geoffrey followed them both with his eyes, his gaze lingering on Miss Whyte’s form. A deep frown crossed his brow and Geoffrey forced himself to look away. This was not what he had intended and he needed to make certain that he did not allow himself to become distracted by the lady. Just because she was remarkably pretty did not mean that he had to do anything other than what he had intended. His mother would take care of Miss Whyte and he would continue about his business, just as he had planned.
She does need a husband.
The thought was fleeting but caught Geoffrey unawares. Closing his eyes tightly, he shook his head to himself, as though forcing himself to remove any such thought from his mind. He had no intention whatsoever of marrying at present and, whilst there was the awareness that he would need to do so at some point – the line needed to continue once he was gone – there was no real urgency. Besides which, given that he was still involved in particular affairs as regarded the war, Geoffrey told himself that he could not permit himself to be at all distracted. There was too much at stake and if he were the cause of any failure or attack, Geoffrey would never forgive himself.
No, he would have to keep the lady at arm’s length, just as he had intended. She would be the responsibility of his mother and he would be cordial, but distant. And if he should notice her, if she were looking particularly lovely, then Geoffrey would have to avert his eyes and look away. He could not afford any mistakes. Setting his shoulders, Geoffrey drew in a deep breath and nodded to himself before turning on his heel and striding away. Miss Whyte was here with them now, yes, but he would not allow her presence to cause any alterations to his plans or intentions. He could only pray that she would soon find a husband and, with that connection being formed, she would not linger in his house overly long. Ignoring the kick to his stomach at the thought of Miss Whyte being wed to another, Geoffrey moved away from the staircase and made his way back to the study, thrusting all thought of the lady away as he determined not to think on her again. There was already too much for him to do.
