The Fox and the Viscount Page 3

  Denise sets her book down, the surprise evident on her face. "You saw him?"

  "We danced." But that's as much as I'm going to admit. She doesn't need to know about the wager the two of us have. At least, not until my sugar plums start arriving. He may say he's interested in getting married, but I don't see it happening.

  "You shouldn't have wasted your time like that."

  "It was just a dance," I counter, a little hurt she's talking so badly about our old friend. "Nothing will come of it."

  "See that it doesn't."

  "Why are you so against it?" I'm mostly curious, but there is a part of me that wants to make something happen simply because Denise doesn't seem to like it.

  Not that I'll go through with it. I'm not about to make important life choices on a whim.

  "I've heard things."

  "Like?"

  She sighs. "One of my friends said he shunned her at a ball and refused to dance with her."

  I grimace. That isn't great. If he didn't already have a title, he'd have ended up uninvited from a slew of events. As it is, being a handsome, young, and wealthy Viscount makes him a desirable guest at most gatherings, especially with marriage-minded ladies in attendance.

  I'm about to press Denise for more information when the double doors open and one of our footmen steps inside.

  "The Honourable Mr George Beaumont is here to see Miss Foxe," he announces.

  I glance over at Denise, wondering if she's sharing my confusion about which of us our guest wants to visit with, but she's looking at the floor with a pretty blush on her cheeks. I suppose I have my answer.

  "Show him in please, Varley," I say. "And please send for Mama, I'm sure she'll want to be present as chaperone." According to the rules, I should be enough, but I don't want to risk it.

  Denise sets her book aside and fusses with her gown.

  "Is there anything you want to tell me?" I ask my sister.

  "No."

  "Very well. Would you like me to sew or play the pianoforte?"

  She sighs. "The pianoforte, please."

  "So Mama can't hear what you converse with Mr Beaumont about?"

  "You're not going to leave this be, are you?" she asks.

  "Probably not. You can either tell me now, or I'll be in your room after we retire and I'll pester you until dawn if you don't."

  "Fine. But promise you won't tell Mama?"

  I gasp. "What did you do?"

  "Nothing scandalous."

  "Then why are we not telling Mama?"

  "Because we started talking about books at the ball the other day."

  Understanding dawns on me. "And you don't think she'll find him a suitable match because of that?"

  Denise sighs. "It's no matter. You don't understand."

  "Denise, please? Tell me what's the matter."

  "He's not a fox shifter."

  "If that's not a problem for me, then it shouldn't be for you."

  "Yes, but isn't your gentleman a lion shifter?" she asks.

  "Well, yes."

  "Then there's the problem."

  "I'm afraid I don't follow."

  "He's a rabbit shifter." She blushes furiously.

  Everything falls into place. Of course she's worried about what Mama will think. While it's mostly unspoken, the hierarchy amongst shifters puts him much lower than we are.

  "But you like him?"

  "I think so? We've only had one conversation, how much can I tell from that?" she responds.

  "True. But if you think you may come to like him more, then that's enough for me. We'll just have to keep it from Mama until after it's too late."

  Relief flits over Denise's face.

  Neither of us gets a chance to say more as the doors open and Mama steps into the room. She trails her gaze over the two of us before nodding her approval.

  "A visitor is good news," she announces, as if we aren't already well aware.

  "Yes, Mama," I say. "We're very excited."

  "We should get into position," she instructs.

  I return my attention to the pianoforte, leaving Mama to take my seat on the chaise to my right. Denise sets her book on the end table and straightens out her dress.

  Our guest will likely arrive within a moment, as will the refreshments sent up from the kitchens. I tidy away my sheet music, knowing that it isn't appropriate for it to be out in company, and then begin to play. The soft music fills the room, and I lose myself in the music. As much as I'd like to be able to overhear Denise's conversation with Mr Beaumont, if I can hear it, then so can Mama, and that defeats the point of me playing.

  Hopefully, she feels comfortable enough to signal if she needs me to play louder.

  The door opens again and Varley steps back in. "The Honourable Mr George Beaumont."

  I pause my playing and rise to my feet so I can bob my head along with Mama and Denise.

  "Miss Foxe, Miss Foxe, Lady Oxinforth." He bows to each of us in turn. "It is a delight to be in your company."

  "The pleasure is all ours," Mama responds. "Refreshments will arrive momentarily."

  "Thank you." He seats himself next to Denise, ready to strike up a conversation. "I have brought gifts." He hands her a small parcel that probably contains sweets of some variety. He must give her small perishable gifts until they are properly courting, and even then, the rules on gift-giving are strict.

  I take it as my cue to start playing again.

  Mama throws me a curious look, but I ignore it. She may chastise me later for the volume at which I'm playing, but by then it'll be too late and she'll have missed the conversation going on between Denise and her suitor.

  Besides, her ire won't last long. Not when I have plans with a suitor of my own later. Mama will likely see today as a triumph in the search for husbands.

  Six

  Victoria

  * * *

  The sun shines brightly but offers only the slightest hint of warmth. It's no matter, the cooler air is more pleasant to walk in than the blistering heat which will come later in the year.

  A light breeze flutters the edges of my pelisse and a shiver runs down my spine. I hope Lord Leon arrives shortly so we can begin our walk. Brisk movements should be enough for me to warm myself once more.

  "I do wish he'd hurry up," Mama mutters.

  "It's not yet the hour," Denise reminds her. "We're early."

  "Well then he should be too. It's rude to keep us waiting."

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I'd have thought Mama would be more patient given the situation. It seems I'm wrong.

  "Ah, there he is," Denise says, nodding in the direction of the approaching Lord.

  He strides towards us with a sense of purpose. I stand up straighter, wanting to make a good impression on the gentleman who invited me to promenade with him. I assume there's a reason he wants to get to know me better, but I'm not about to risk it by behaving with impropriety or making it seem as if I'm not interested in taking our new connection seriously.

  "Miss Foxe, I am delighted you agreed to join me today," he says, bowing to me.

  I dip my head and shoulders. "As am I."

  "Miss Foxe, Lady Oxinforth." He bows to Mama and Denise in turn. "Shall we?" He gestures to the path.

  "Of course." I fall into step beside him, with Mama and Denise following behind to act as chaperones.

  Despite the number of people about, walking alone with Lord Leon would be seen as a mild scandal, particularly by the humans taking in the fresh air. The shifters may be more inclined to leniency, but it's not worth the risk.

  "The weather is lovely, don't you think?" I ask.

  "Quite so. Had I not been already engaged with our walk, I may have taken a ride in the country," Lord Leon responds.

  "Do you ride often?"

  "As much as I can. My father takes great pride in his stables. I've been riding for as long as I can remember. And you?"

  "Alas, I fear horses and I are not the best of friends." I think they can sense the fox shifter inside me and want to stay away from it. I'm surprised he doesn't find the same problem being a lion shifter. Though if his father is the one who raised the horses, perhaps they've learned not to be afraid in the same way.

  "Should you ever find yourself visiting our estates, perhaps I could help you overcome that."

  "Perhaps."

  "Are you attending Lady Ferrington's ball next week?" he asks.

  "I am. It's supposed to be the height of the Shifter Season."

  "It always is. The guests are encouraged to dress in a fashion that shows off their shifter side. It's quite something."

  "I'm greatly looking forward to it. There aren't many shifter-only events on my calendar, and it'll be interesting to see how this one compares."

  "Indeed. I was wondering if you would save a dance for me?" he asks. "It would be an honour to escort you onto the floor."

  "I would like that very much, Lord Leon." I glance over my shoulder to check that things are going all right with my family.

  Mama nods at me, no doubt urging me to continue.

  The only problem is that I don't feel anything for him. Lord Leon is an excellent dancer, but I feel less excitement talking to him than I did to the Viscount, and he's one of my oldest friends, even if society insists we can not be.

  I glance at Lord Leon and smile as warmly as I can, trying to pull on all of my social skills to make more small talk.

  Another couple approaches, their lone chaperone trailing behind with a bored expression on her face. It only takes me a moment to place the easy grace and realise who it belongs to.

  "Renarton, I didn't know you were in town," Lord Leon says, a wide smile on his face.

  "I only arrived last week."

  "I haven't seen you at our club
yet. Will you be joining us soon?"

  "I planned to make a visit tonight," the Viscount responds before turning to me and offering a bow. "Miss Foxe."

  "My Lord." I dip my head.

  Once I raise it again, our gazes lock and something akin to affection surges through me. It's nice to have a friendly face.

  "May I introduce you to Miss Swanley?" he asks, gesturing to the lady by his side. "This is Miss Foxe, her family neighbours mine."

  "It's a pleasure to meet you," she responds, dipping her head.

  "You too," I respond in kind as the rest of the two parties exchange greetings. Not for the first time, I find myself wearying over how long the entire process takes.

  "Miss Swanley was just telling me about how much she enjoys drawing," the Viscount says before turning to the graceful dark-haired woman by his side. "Perhaps you would show me some when I next call on you?"

  "Oh, of course, My Lord." She flushes, seeming a little distressed. I narrow my gaze at her. Is she feigning just to get attention? It's hard to tell. So many young women are taught the art at a young age. We know exactly how we want things to look.

  "That sounds delightful," I respond with a fake smile. "I was just about to tell Lord Leon about the divine lemon biscuits our cook makes. Perhaps I'll ask her to make them for the next time we have callers."

  "I'm not particularly partial to lemon," Lord Leon responds, completely oblivious to the amusement dancing over Viscount Renarton's face.

  He knows what I'm doing, even if Lord Leon does not.

  "Perhaps if your cook is able to produce millefruit biscuits..."

  "Of course, Lord Leon. Anything you prefer," I respond.

  From the corner of my eye, I catch Viscount Renarton smirking.

  I ignore him. No doubt he's assumed I'm worried he's going to win the wager because of the attention he's paying to Miss Swanley.

  But I'm not. She doesn't look like she's particularly interested in him beyond a brief diversion. Perhaps she's trying to catch the eye of someone else promenading through the park.

  "We should continue our walk, My Lord," I say gently. "Viscount, Miss Swanley."

  Lord Leon leads the way down the path and past a group of gentlemen playing some kind of hoop toss game.

  He's a remarkable conversationalist, and he makes small talk as well as anyone I've ever met, but there's something missing. It's hard to put my finger on exactly what it is, but when I think about the idea of spending the rest of my life with this man, it doesn't fill me with any sense of excitement.

  Perhaps it's something that will come in time. If I'm feeling particularly brave when I return home, I may ask Mama about it. Though maybe not. No doubt she'll be telling me that a fox shifter will be better.

  She may be right. But I'm yet to meet an eligible fox shifter who meets all the requirements to become my husband.

  Other than Viscount Renarton, but he doesn't count. And he certainly won't help me win the wager.

  I just have to hope that something will grow with Lord Leon. He's a good match, and that will allow Denise to continue to explore her connection to Mr Beaumont, while keeping our parents happy.

  It's a hard line to walk, but I'm certain we'll manage it.

  Seven

  Victoria

  * * *

  "I can't believe we're finally going to take part in the Fox Rush," Denise says, grabbing hold of my hand and squeezing it tightly.

  "See, there are some advantages to being out in society," I remind her.

  She sighs. "I never said there weren't any."

  "You implied it before we left to be presented."

  "I'm sorry, Victoria. I was unnecessarily cruel that day."

  "It is all forgotten."

  "Maybe for you. But not for me. I was nervous and I didn't handle it well."

  "It's in the past," I assure her. "Has this change of heart got anything to do with Mr Beaumont?"

  "Well that and sisterly affection." She links her arm through mine as we walk down the small path behind our parents and younger brother.

  A small smile lifts the corners of my lips. "Sisterly affection is an excellent reason to do anything."

  "Thank you for covering for me the other day. I know Mama wasn't happy that you played so loudly it covered my conversation."

  "It was worth it. And she didn't stay angry too long. Not with Lord Leon playing his role perfectly."

  "He seems very pleasant, don't you think?"

  I grimace. "Maybe."

  "Ah, I thought I saw some reluctance when Mama started talking about him at dinner. What's wrong with him?"

  "Nothing," I admit. "I guess that's the problem."

  Denise lets out a small laugh. "Only you would find perfection a problem."

  "That's not what I mean." Though even as I say it, I realise I'm not really sure what I do mean. There's nothing wrong with Lord Leon, even if he isn't the best match for me when it comes to his shifter type, the heir to an earldom is an excellent catch indeed.

  Our parents slow their pace as we approach a large field. There are easily three or four dozen people arriving along with us, every single one of them a fox shifter like we are.

  "Girls, you need to come with me," Mama says, directing us towards a large screen to the left.

  I exchange a confused glance with Denise. This is the first time we've taken part in the Fox Rush and no one has actually explained what happens during it.

  Behind the screen are only women, some of them fully dressed still, while others are already in their chemises. There are even a few who have already shifted into their fox form.

  "All right, girls. Strip down to your chemises and then we'll shift. Once we're out there, you can run as you want, but make sure you can always see another fox," Mama instructs.

  "That's it?" Denise blurts.

  Mama smiles kindly. "The point of the Fox Rush is to run with our own kind the way we're meant to. It doesn't need to be complicated. It's all about our instincts. You'll be fine. Don't shift back into your human form until you're back behind the screen. We can't have any improper behaviour, even at an event such as this."

  Which seems a little ridiculous. We can't shift in our clothes without ruining them, so why is it improper for a shifter to take off their clothing to shift? It makes no sense to me. And I doubt any of the commoners worry about this.

  "Turn around, I'll unbutton you," I say to Denise.

  She nods, getting into position. I make swift work of her buttons. Normally, we have a maid to help us with our clothing, but we've done it ourselves enough to know how best to go about it.

  My fingers fumble as I pull off my skirt and the cool air of the evening greets my skin.

  I fold my gown and place it in one of the baskets which seem to have been provided for the purpose.

  "What are we supposed to do with these?" Denise asks, lifting up the ribbon tied to the handles.

  I glance to the side, hoping to see Mama so we can ask, but she's nowhere to be seen. Thankfully, the woman next to me seems to know what she's doing and ties the ribbon tightly around her wrist.

  I gesture for Denise to look too.

  She nods and holds out her hand and the ribbon to me so I can tie it around her wrist. It's a different colour to mine, which isn't surprising. It must be to help us work out which of the baskets contains our clothing when we return.

  "Make sure you tie it tight enough that it won't fall off," she says.

  "I know." I pull the ribbon closed and make a simple knot. There's no need for it to be a pretty looking bow while there's no one around but foxes. It's more important that it stays on the entire time. "There."

  "Thank you." She gestures for my wrist and performs the same task for me. The ribbon cuts into my skin, but I ignore it. I'll be in my fox form soon enough and then it won't be so tight.

  "Are you ready?" she asks.

  "I don't know."

  "Me neither. But we'll be fine." Denise offers me a weak smile, betraying how nervous she is about this.

  "It's just a run. Think of it as nothing more than that. We've done it plenty of times in our lives before. We can stick together, if you want?"

  She shakes her head. "Don't restrict yourself by what I need. We should try and enjoy this as much as possible."

  "I intend to."

  "Then let's shift," Denise says.