The Fox and the Viscount Read online

  "I was thinking that we could go to the London townhouse for the Season," Mother says. "That way you can come and go to your meetings without fear of being late for dinner."

  "I'm not sure I have time for the Season." I cut into my venison and take a bite.

  Mother tssks disapprovingly. "You won't be young forever, Edmund. And the viscounty needs an heir."

  I grimace, knowing that she's right but hating the idea of marrying just because I need a child. I'd rather find someone I want to share a life with.

  "I'll think about it."

  "Hmm."

  "You don't think I will?"

  Mother lets out a slight laugh. "I think you'll pretend to think about it and then tell me that you're too busy to attend any social events."

  "I am busy. But that doesn't mean you can't attend events yourself. You're the Dowager Viscountess Renarton, you'll have an invitation to any event you want with only the slightest suggestion that you want one. But I promise I will try and attend some social functions this Season."

  "Good. I hear the twin daughters of Baron and Lady Oxinforth are being presented this year," Mother says offhandedly, taking me by surprise. I don't think I've seen the twins at all in the past few years despite the fact their country estate is next door to this one.

  "Victoria?" I blurt, an image of my playmate springing to mind.

  "Miss Foxe," she corrects. "And Miss Foxe, I suppose. It must be difficult when there are twins. Though I don't recall them being particularly alike."

  "They're not," I respond. "Or at least, they weren't." Victoria was always the one getting into trouble alongside me, whereas Denise would watch us over the top of her book and claim she had nothing to do with any of it.

  "You should ask them for a dance if you see them at one of the balls this Season. You know that it will help their prospects if it seems like a Viscount is interested in them."

  "What if I was actually interested?" My question is born more of curiosity than anything else, but I am intrigued to discover the kind of woman Victoria has grown up to be.

  "Then you should still ask them to dance," Mother says evenly.

  I frown. "I expected you to say that they aren't suitable matches for a Viscount."

  "You are many things, my dear, but obtuse is not one of them. You know as well as I do that either of the twins would be an excellent match. They have good dowries, come from an excellent family, and are the daughters of a baron. You could do far worse."

  "But you have reservations?"

  Mother sighs. "Not about the young ladies. About you."

  "Thank you, Mother, I appreciate your vote of confidence." I try not to be hurt by her words, but it's difficult not to be.

  "Not like that." She sighs and sets down her fork.

  It appears that she's about to give me a stern talking to. I simply wish I knew what I'd done to deserve it.

  "I know that it's important for you to find a wife and have an heir," she says.

  "Yes," I agree. "You're the one who keeps reminding me of that."

  "I do. But I need you to promise me something."

  "If it's within my ability to promise, you have my word." I eye her suspiciously. Somehow, I get the impression that my mother is more likely to catch me out than any one of my business or political rivals.

  She nods. "It's within your ability."

  "I won't know until you tell me what it is." I take another bite of my meal but barely even taste it now I'm focusing on Mother.

  "Don't make the same mistake your father and I did," she says softly. "We barely knew one another when we got married, and we spent too long avoiding spending any time together after our wedding. We wasted so much time before we realised we were a good match." Pain crosses her face.

  I reach out and take her hand in mine, grateful that we don't have a huge table with her sitting at the other end of it.

  "Please, Edmund. It's important to me that you don't repeat our mistakes."

  "I promise I'll try my best."

  She smiles sadly and pats the top of my hand. "It's why I want you to attend the social events. That way you can get to know the young ladies and find someone you share something special with."

  Without me meaning them to, my thoughts turn to Victoria. I'm not sure if the two of us will have anything in common beyond happy childhood memories, but perhaps that's a good place to start. We always got on well, and if she's grown into the woman I think she will have, then I can see myself having a good life with her.

  And if not, then it will still be good to rekindle our friendship.

  "I'll go to the social events," I promise Mother. "And I'll do my best at finding a good match."

  She smiles serenely. "That's all I ask for." She turns back to her dinner, and I can't help but feel as if I've walked into a trap.

  Perhaps I have, but hopefully it will be one that will bring me some happiness.

  Four

  Victoria

  * * *

  The upbeat music fills the hall and infects me with the desire to dance despite already having done three turns out of four on the dancefloor. I need to take some refreshment or I'll end up fainting the first time anyone talks to me. While some people may think it fashionable to put on fainting spells in order to put on a delicate air, I don't particularly care for it myself and would rather avoid it at all costs.

  I head towards the refreshment table, enjoying the sense of freedom being at a ball like this affords me. Denise is no doubt off somewhere trying to avoid anyone asking her to dance, and Mama is here chaperoning both of us, but she's doing it from a distance while she converses with her friends. It means I can move freely around the ballroom and do as I please.

  Within reason. I can't dance with the same man more than twice, nor can I talk to anyone I haven't already been formally introduced to, but that's not so much of an issue. Everyone is in the same situation, which means people are quick to make the introductions they don't think will damage them.

  I pick up a small glass of cordial and take a sip, pleased to have a moment to myself.

  I scan the edge of the room to try and pick out Denise, finding her hidden in an alcove with her nose in her book. An affectionate smile spreads over my face, and I let out a small chuckle.

  "Do you care to share your amusement, Miss Foxe?" a semi-familiar voice says from beside me.

  I spin around, my eyes widening as I take in the striking figure in front of me. "Ed-My Lord, I didn't realise you were in London." I bow my head.

  Viscount Renarton returns my bow. "As it seems, I am. And apparently making you forget your propriety."

  A small blush rushes to my cheeks. It's bad enough that I almost called him by his name instead of his title, now he's calling me out on it.

  "Perhaps I'm unable to forget the memories of you running around our orchard as a child."

  "Your orchard has perfect trees for climbing, if I recall."

  "I recall you falling out of one."

  "Only because you made me a wager I couldn't refuse. You offered me all of your sweets if I could climb to the highest part of the tree and retrieve you a leaf."

  I laugh lightly. "And then you shifted halfway down and shredded your best jacket."

  "Ah, yes. Mother was not happy with me. But what was she to expect when she sent me to play with the neighbour's twins."

  "That we would sit quietly and practise our needlework while simpering over you."

  "Weren't we all barely seven?"

  "We were." And it's as easy to talk to him now as it was then.

  "Then it's really her own fault. She should have known better than to expect me to behave."

  "I wager you're still finding ways to make trouble." I set my glass down and turn to face him properly. As childhood friends, we don't need introducing to one another, and with so many witnesses, there's no need to worry about it being improper to talk to him.

  Though we may need to be more careful with our talk of shifting while there are so many humans around.

  "I have been known to," he admits. "Mostly with inappropriate wagers."

  "Some things don't change."

  "Where's the fun in that?" The corners of his lips quirk into a smile.

  "What brings you to London?" I ask.

  "Much the same as you, I imagine. I wish to attend as many diversions as possible and find myself a wife to settle down with."

  I raise an eyebrow. "You've never struck me as the marrying type."

  "Mother impressed on me the importance of having an heir for my title, especially in the absence of any siblings."

  "Ah, the classic problem for rakes."

  "I'm not a rake, Miss Foxe."

  "Which is precisely the kind of thing a rake would say," I point out.

  "Indeed, you may be right."

  "I often am. The art of the witty remark is one many at these events applaud."

  "And if a witty remark is all it takes to catch a husband, you'll have a proposal by the end of the evening."

  The current dance ends, causing a small rush of people to leave the floor and head in our direction.

  "I believe this is our cue to vacate our spot," the Viscount says. "Do you perchance have this dance free?"

  "I do."

  "In which case, it will be my honour to escort you to the floor." He holds out his hand.

  I place my gloved one in his and he draws me towards the line of fellow dancers. "I hope your sense of balance has improved over the years."

  "I can assure you that it has. And I know all the steps."

  "You don't even know which we're going to be doing yet." The Master of Ceremonies has not announced the dance, probably because he hasn't asked the couple at the top of the set.

  "Perhaps I have mastered th
em all."

  "At the same time as running a viscounty and looking after your mother?"

  "I'm a gentleman of many talents."

  We take our place in the set alongside the rest of the couples. The Season isn't very advanced, with only a few events happening since I was presented, and it shows on the faces of many of the women. They're nervous. I wonder if I look the same.

  The Master of Ceremonies calls our attention and instructs us into the dance. Not that it means much for us when we're so far down the set. We can't dance until the leading lady reaches us in the turns of the dance.

  But no matter, it gives me plenty of time to reacquaint myself with the Viscount before our turn comes to dance.

  "How is your sister?" the Viscount asks from his position next to me.

  "Hating that she now has to attend these things. I think she's hiding with a book."

  "Ah, that's the Miss Denise Foxe I remember."

  "Dare I enquire into what you remembered of me?"

  "I remember a blonde devil with the ability to get me into more trouble than anyone else I've ever known."

  "You'll be glad to know I've grown out of that," I retort.

  "I'm unsure whether or not to believe you."

  The lively beat of the music adds a jovial air to the atmosphere, as does the excitement building from the couples.

  I'm saved from answering his overly familiar question by the arrival of the first lady to our set of couples.

  Now the dance will begin in earnest.

  I turn to the Viscount and dip into a curtsy, before turning to the gentleman opposite and doing the same.

  The Viscount dances forward on bouncing toes to meet the other lady. They touch hands briefly and circle one another until they are standing in the position facing where they started.

  He comes forward to repeat the move, but this time his hand doesn't leave that of the other lady's. He offers me his other one. The moment my gloved hand meets his, I forget about everything other than the dance itself, performing the slight hops that are required by the formation.

  We break away from the other couple, and the Viscount takes my second hand in his. We hop around until we're back in the same positions we started. The music is infectious, as is the sight of the other couples down the line who have already been able to join in.

  I have to admit, the Viscount is a delightful dancer despite his clumsiness at climbing trees when we were children.

  But the high energy needed for the dance, as well as the constant switching of places, makes it hard for us to continue to converse.

  Once we reach the bottom of the set, I realise how much I've been looking forward to talking with him again.

  "So, have you made any wagers for sweets recently?" the Viscount asks.

  "I have not."

  "Then perhaps we should change that."

  "I imagine it's entirely improper for us to make a wager at all," I remind him.

  "Isn't that what makes it fun?" There's a sparkle in his eyes that reveals just how true he thinks that is.

  "What did you have in mind?"

  "Do you still have the cook who makes those lemon biscuits?" he asks.

  "We do."

  "Then if I win, you will grant me a year's supply of lemon biscuits."

  "You can't be serious?" I glance at the other couples to make sure they aren't listening to us. It could cause a small scandal if they did.

  "Whyever not? It's a perfectly innocent prize."

  "And how are you expecting me to convince the cook to agree to that?"

  "You can tell her that it's for me, she loves me."

  "Your recollection is remarkably different from mine," I tease him. "I remember her brandishing her rolling pin and banishing you from the kitchen after the jam tart disaster."

  He chuckles. "Ah, yes. Maybe I should add some tarts to my prize."

  "I think lemon biscuits will quite suffice."

  "Very well. What would you like should you win?" he asks.

  "A year's supply?"

  "Yes."

  "I think sugar plums will do nicely."

  "I should have guessed, they always were your favourites."

  Warmth spreads through me at the thought of him remembering anything about me.

  "They still are."

  "Very well. If I win, you will grant me a year's supply of your cook's lemon biscuits. If you win, I'll send you a year's supply of sugar plums."

  "I cannot agree until I know the subject of the wager. How am I to win if I don't know how to play?"

  "We shall make it easy. Whichever of us secures a proposal first, shall be the winner," he suggests.

  I raise an eyebrow. "That is hardly fair. You can go propose to a woman right now, I do not have the luxury of being the one to make the first move."

  "Then what do you suggest?"

  "The winner is the first one to gain a meaningful engagement."

  "I believe that is a fair wager."

  "Then we have a deal."

  "Let the best fox win." The Viscount grins widely.

  "I intend to."

  Before he can respond, it becomes our turn to rejoin the dance once more. Perhaps it's foolish of me to enter into a wager such as this, especially one with an unmarried man.

  But it's only a little fun. What harm can come of it? Especially when all I have to do to win is what I plan to do anyway for the success of the season. No one will even say anything about the sweets, it's a perfectly acceptable gift for a gentleman to give a lady, even an unmarried one. So long as they don't find out I won them in a wager, no scandal will ever come of it.

  Five

  Victoria

  * * *

  I barely glance at the music sheets sitting on the pianoforte. I won't be allowed them at all if I play for company, but I like to have them out for practice so I can check if I'm unsure of some of the notes. I finish the tune and set my hands on my lap, I smile, satisfied with my performance.

  "That was pleasant," Denise says from her seat by the window.

  "I'm not disturbing your reading?" I always worry about that, but I'm not sure what else I can do when we're supposed to wait in the receiving room for any callers.

  "I find it soothing," she assures me. "Though if you were a worse player, then perhaps my answer would be different."

  "Then I will be grateful for the hours I've been granted to practise."

  Denise laughs lightly. "Are you expecting anyone to call?" She glances towards the door as if merely asking is going to be enough to summon a suitor to our door.

  "I don't think so. I'm supposed to be meeting Lord Leon for a promenade this afternoon though."

  She sighs dramatically. "I suppose I'm to be expected to come with you."

  "Mama hasn't said, but I think she'll probably want you to."

  "I suppose it's a chance to wear my new hat, I've been waiting for the perfect opportunity to."

  "Does walking around the house not count?" I ask, thinking back to the day after she'd made the purchase.

  "You know it doesn't."

  "Then I'm glad I've given you the perfect opportunity. Though perhaps it would be better if you waited until you had a suitor of your own to promenade with?"

  Denise grimaces, clearly unimpressed by the thought. "Is Mama really happy for you to promenade with Lord Leon? He can't be a serious suitor."

  "Because he's not a fox shifter?"

  She nods.

  "I'll admit, it surprised me too, but he's handsome, has a decent reputation, and is the heir to a large fortune. I think that's enough for Mama to overlook one little issue."

  "And you?"

  "I've never needed my match to be a fox shifter," I point out. "Though I thought that was what our parents would prefer."

  "Me too, but I'm glad to hear they're open to something different, or else you'd end up married to Lord Renarton."

  "He's not that bad," I mumble.

  "You haven't seen him in years," she points out. "And last time we saw him, he stole my favourite ribbon to go fishing."

  "He gave it back," I protest, thinking fondly of the memory. Unsurprisingly, he hadn't caught anything.

  "Ruined."

  "Anyway, he's in London. I saw him last night."