Page 27 of The Viscount's Forgery
“Yes, she certainly has been,” Lord Bothwell agreed. “And that is why I think I must let myself consider her again.” A broad smile spread right across his face as he spoke, making Nicholas grin. “I feel a good deal happier already, and that is because of you.”
This made Nicholas frown. “Because of me?”
“Yes,” Lord Bothwell said, slapping Nicholas on the back. “You told me to treat her as though I had never met her before, as though I was only beginning the acquaintance. You suggested I set the past aside and behave as I did at the beginning, and, had I not done so, I am quite sure that I would not have been in this happy state now.”
Shame bit down hard on Nicholas’ heart, and with an inward sigh, he turned his head. “Miss Sherwood?” he called, as she looked back at him over his shoulder. “Might you come to join us for a moment?”
“Why ever are you asking her here?” Lord Bothwell asked, but Nicholas only shook his head. Miss Sherwood, her head a little lowered, her gaze darting between them, and her hands clasped lightly in front of her, came to stand between them, though no question was on her lips.
Nicholas gestured to her, looking back at his friend. “It is Miss Sherwood you should thank, my friend.”
Lord Bothwell’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean thatshewas the one who suggested that you treat Polly as if she were a new acquaintance,” Nicholas said, aware that he would have to explain all of this to Miss Sherwood thereafter. “I took her words and I offered them to you as advice. I had my reasons for doing so, but I see now that none of those reasons held any importance. It was Miss Eugenia Sherwood’s advice that brought you to this place of happiness, Bothwell. I think it is important that you know that.”
It took a few moments for Lord Bothwell to respond, but when he did, it was with a glad smile.
“Then I thank you, Miss Sherwood, for all you have done in trying to bring about a healing between me and your sister,” he said, as Nicholas looked on, catching the glimmer of tears in Miss Sherwood’s eyes. “As I was saying to Lord Suffolk just now, I think that we may now have found our path forward, and it is one which will lead to happiness.”
Miss Sherwood blinked quickly, but her own smile was one of pure joy. “That is wonderful to hear,” she said, her voice a little hoarse. “Thank you for sharing that with me, Lord Bothwell.”
“Bothwell, come and give us your opinion on this, if you might!” Lord Albury called, breaking up the conversation as Lord Bothwell strode towards him at once. Nicholas looked down at Miss Sherwood, seeing her pull her handkerchief from her sleeve and dab at her eyes. His hands ached to go around her waist, to pull her close, and to comfort her in the most intimate way he might imagine without being improper – but he could do nothing other than smile at her.
“I must pray now that nothing will deviate them from this,” she whispered, clearly unable to trust her voice. “Oh, Lord Suffolk, this is what I have longed for!”
“I am sorry that I spoke your advice to Lord Bothwell without stating before now that it was you who offered it,” he said, quickly explaining what had happened. She did not show anysurprise, only nodding as he spoke. “I am glad I was able to rectify it now. You deserve the credit, Miss Sherwood.”
Her eyes closed, but when she opened them, there was a happiness that seemed to light up every part of her features. “I thank you, Lord Suffolk,” she said, her hand touching his, albeit for only a fleeting moment. “You truly have proven yourself to be an excellent gentleman.”
This made Nicholas hang his head, sensing that he could not take on such a compliment. “There is much that I need to alter about myself,” he said, only for her to take his hand again and squeeze it. He could not breathe, her eyes affixing to his, letting him see the swirls of blue within.
“I think you are an excellent gentleman,” she said again, as Nicholas’ lungs began to ache. “And that is all that matters.”
12
“You have been spending a good deal of time with Lord Suffolk of late.”
Eugenia looked sharply at Miss Trentworth as they walked through St James’ Park. “You know very well why that is.”
“The paintings, yes,” Miss Trentworth said, looping her arm through Eugenia’s. “But I know you have found a happiness in his company.”
Seeking an answer, Eugenia opened her mouth only to find it dry and unhelpful. She could not seem to find something to say, wanting to deny it, but at the same time, knowing she could not. Ever since Lord Suffolk had apologized to her, there had been a fresh understanding between them and, as Miss Trentworth had identified, a happiness which she could not deny.
“You are glad to be with him,” Miss Trentworth murmured, as Eugenia’s face grew hot. “You are often in conversation, from what I witnessed, and it is not always about the paintings.”
“That does not mean anything,” Eugenia stated firmly, only for Miss Trentworth to laugh.
“No, it does not, but there is nothing wrong with admitting that you are…interestedin furthering your acquaintance.”
Eugenia narrowed her eyes at her friend, but Miss Trentworth only laughed.
“You forget, my friend, that I am the one in love and ready to be married, so I should be the one well able to suggest when I see someone else approaching such a state.”
“Of love?” Eugenia exclaimed, horrified. “I am not in the least bit in love with him!”
Miss Trentworth tilted her head, coming to a stop and looking straight into Eugenia’s eyes. “No?”
Her throat constricted, and she tossed her head so as not to answer.
