The Secrets of a Viscount by Sande Linda Rae

Author:Sande, Linda Rae
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-946271-03-7
Publisher: Twisted Teacup Publishing
Published: 2017-06-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

Two Viscounts in Search of the Same

Later that day

Godfrey Thorncastle removed his robes and periwig, ignoring the light conversation carried on by his fellow lords in the dressing chamber in Parliament. Despite having spent that day’s session in a boisterous discussion about parliamentary reform, no one seemed particularly upset by the proceedings.

Without so much as a farewell to any of his colleagues, he took his leave of the building and hailed a hackney—at the very same time Adam Comber, Viscount Breckinridge, did so. In fact, the two attempted to climb into the conveyance at the same time, each giving the other a stare of annoyance.

“I am in a terrible hurry,” Thorncastle warned the younger viscount, one foot on the step.

“As am I,” Adam countered. “I’ve absolutely no idea how late the Archbishop of Canterbury’s office is open,” he argued.

Godfrey blinked and removed his foot from the step. “It seems we have the same destination in mind,” he replied as he called out, “Doctors’ Commons,” to the driver and stepped up and into the coach. He waved the younger viscount in and watched as Adam removed his top hat and gave him a nod.

“Much obliged, Thorncastle,” Adam murmured. “I had hoped today’s session would end a bit earlier.”

“As had I,” Godfrey agreed as he removed his top hat and set it on the bench, at first wondering why Lord Breckinridge would even be at Parliament. He hadn’t yet inherited the Aimsley earldom.

When Adam noted Godfrey’s expression, he said, “Writ of acceleration. Seems the age of those in the House of Lords was getting a bit high, so I agreed to step in,” he explained.

Godfrey nodded, rather impressed a younger aristocrat would agree to give up his freedoms early and take on the responsibility of Parliament. “Can’t say as how I would expect you to be in need of a special license, though,” he said.

Adam considered the comment. Given his reputation, he wondered if Thorncastle’s words were said in jest. “The same might be said for you,” he countered with an arched brow. “May I inquire as to the identity of the lucky woman?” Why, he hadn’t heard—or read—a bit of gossip mentioning Godfrey Thorncastle. But the viscount was a bit long in the tooth, and it was probably well past time the man saw to populating a nursery.

“The widow, Lady Lancaster,” Godfrey offered carefully. “And the name of yours?” He half-expected Breckinridge to make some off-color remark, so he was rather surprised when the man gave him a look of appreciation.

Although the younger viscount seemed ready to reply, he suddenly frowned. His brows furrowed deeper before he gave his head a shake. “Damnation!”

That wasn’t quite what Godfrey was expecting to hear. He rather doubted any women were bestowed with such a name, although he supposed there were some unlucky men who used the term to describe their wives on a daily basis. “What is it?” the older viscount asked in alarm.

Adam’s eyes darted to one side, as if he were trying to remember something.

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