Deborah Simmons

The Dark Viscount


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us for years?’ she asked.

      ‘No,’ Kit said. Leaning back in the upholstered chair, he crossed his arms behind his head and stretched out his long legs. ‘He’s been busy. And you heard him—his mother had only just informed him of our move.’

      ‘But common courtesy requires that a visitor, especially an uninvited one, wait until their hosts are settled into the new residence.’

      Kit grinned. ‘I’m afraid that men don’t think along those lines. And since when are you a stickler for etiquette?’

      ‘I’m not,’ Sydony said. ‘But Viscount Hawthorne should be, given his vaunted position in society.’

      ‘He’s human, Syd, just like he’s always been,’ Kit countered.

      ‘And how would we know what he is now or has been over these past years? We saw little enough of him once he went off to Eton, to be among his own.’

      Kit snorted. ‘He had no choice, Syd. He wasn’t blessed with a father who held the public school system in contempt, like we were. I was lucky to be tutored at home, rather than be tormented by older boys and sadistic men with little or no interest in teaching.’

      Sydony glanced at him sharply. ‘What? Is that what Barto endured? Did he tell you so?’

      Kit shrugged, obviously unwilling to share a confidence. ‘It’s what everyone endures and why Father took our studies upon himself.’

      ‘Beyond his own love of scholarship,’ Sydony noted, with a smile. She was grateful for their father’s habits, which had given her the opportunity to learn more than most females.

      ‘I suppose that you saw him more often than I did,’ Sydony mused.

      ‘Who? Barto?’ Kit asked.

      Sydony nodded, but Kit only shrugged again. She knew that they had sought each other’s company often enough when younger, devising ways to exclude her. And they probably had continued the practice long after she stopped chasing after them.

      ‘When I did chance upon him, he seemed so much older. Harder,’ Sydony mused.

      ‘He was always more mature,’ Kit said. ‘From birth he had the responsibility of nobility hanging over his head. That vast estate and the people it supports were always destined to be his, and it weighed upon him.’

      Sydony looked up in surprise once more, but Kit appeared uncomfortable. ‘I hardly saw him in the later years, either,’ he added.

      Sydony frowned. ‘Yes, I imagine he had other pursuits.’ They had heard of wild times in London and his mother’s concern for his future. But now she wondered just how much of it was true.

      Again, Kit snorted. ‘Well, they seem to have done him no harm.’

      Sydony refused to admit that Barto bore no ill effects from any sordid adventures. ‘No, they appear only have made him more arrogant.’

      ‘Lud, Syd, what have you got against the fellow? He’s always had his duty hanging over him, and he never seemed pleased about the prospect.’

      ‘He looks eager enough now to play the lord.’

      Kit threw up his hands in exasperation and stood.

      ‘I just think his sudden desire to visit is odd, that’s all,’ Sydony said.

      ‘You think everything is odd,’ her brother called over his shoulder.

      ‘If I do, it’s because…every thing here is,’ Sydony whispered, though Kit was already closing the door.

      She nearly called him back, but the knowledge that he was weary after their long day kept her silent. With his exit, the night drew in around her, and Sydony felt a sudden pang of loneliness. She tried to dismiss it as she prepared for bed, for, were she at her former home, she would still be by herself. No one would be joining her here in the darkness.

      Yet her father had always been available, like as not nodding over a book in his study at all hours. The servants were well liked and of long standing, though she would not have disturbed their rest. And there were her friends and neighbours, who sometimes shared extended visits. Of course, Molly was married now, as was Eliza, but Sydony had remained close to them until the move. Theirs was a small set, not polished or grand in the manner of Viscount Hawthorne’s London circle.

      Thoughts of her unwanted guest made Sydony feel even more bereft, for she found herself missing the boy she had once known, replaced now by a stiff and arrogant nobleman. She swallowed a lump in her throat as she remembered his earlier taunt about Sherwood Forest.

      Not only was she far from her home and all that was familiar, but this stranger was ruining treasured memories of her childhood. Crawling into bed, Sydony turned on her side and finally let herself weep for all that was lost.

      

      During the long hours until morning Sydony tossed and turned through distressing dreams in which huge hedges walled her in and Barto stood by, doing nothing to help her. She woke up gasping for breath, having buried herself under the covers, but she swung out of bed, determined to avoid another night of such torment.

      Today she would satisfy her curiosity about the maze, once and for all. The mysterious greenery couldn’t haunt her sleep if she faced it in the daylight. She had the ring of keys from the solicitor, as well as a workman to remove the shutters that barred her view. Either way, she was going to see the source of her curiosity, and, by doing so, put it to rest.

      Sydony’s heart picked up its pace as she headed down to the dining hall, eager to tackle the secret of the labyrinth. Hurrying into the room, Sydony startled Kit by demanding the keys without preamble. Caught with a mouthful of breakfast, he pointed soundlessly toward the library, where she found her brother had piled the papers that Mr Sparrowhawk had given him.

      Muttering to herself at the habits of men, Sydony gathered them together, lest they become mixed in with the stacks of old receipts and miscellany that were already crowding the secretary. Then she snatched up the ring and headed back up the staircase, nearly running into Barto, who was descending, elegant as always—thanks to his valet, no doubt.

      Thanks were surely due someone, Sydony thought, for Barto was a sight to behold. He didn’t dress like some of the peacocks she had seen on her rare visits to London, but with an understated sophistication that made him look…well, beautiful. For some reason, Sydony’s pulse started pounding at that revelation, but the mocking lift of one of his dark brows quickly brought it back to normal.

      ‘Pardon me,’ Sydony said as she hurried past him. Better she be obsessed with the maze than her old neighbour, no matter how handsome he had become. Pushing Barto firmly from her mind, Sydony reached the door on the first floor and tried the new set of keys, her excitement growing with each attempt. But, just like yesterday, none of those on the ring worked the lock. In disbelief, Sydony went through each another time, to no avail.

      Thwarted once more, she could do nothing except return to the dining hall, where Barto had joined her brother. His greeting at her entrance was perfunctory, and again, she wondered just why he was here. Perhaps he would leave today, Sydony thought with a mixture of pleasure and vague disappointment. If she were disappointed, she told herself, it was only because the reasons for his visit would remain a mystery.

      As she filled her plate, Sydony considered the possibility that he might be hiding from someone—a pack of creditors, perhaps. The new viscount might have amassed gambling debts from his forays to London, and who would look for him here?

      This new theory made him seem the villain of her nightmares, and she studied him closely as she took her seat. Would he lift a finger to aid her, if needed? Thankfully, she would never be in a position to find out.

      A sharp glance from the subject of her scrutiny made Sydony lift her fork and turn to Kit. ‘I shall require your man today.’

      ‘Sorry, but you can’t have him,’ Kit said as he stood to fill another plate. ‘I’m setting