The Scandalous Viscount by Anastasia Cole

Author:Anastasia Cole
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Anastasia Cole
Published: 2021-01-21T23:21:45+00:00

Chapter Eleven

“Oh, you have returned,” Grantham simpered, glaring out at Will.

Will fought the urge to punch him. He had not slept well after Horatio left him, and he was feeling tense and angry. “I wish to speak with Wickham. I won’t be ignored. Tell him that from me.”

The words came out harshly. He had spent the night staring at the ceiling, replaying his own stupid words over and over again. Nothing has changed. Everything had changed. The look in Horatio’s eyes was going to haunt him forever.

In the hallway behind the butler, George Newton appeared, looking for a moment so breathtakingly like Horatio that Will felt his heart start to break all over again. But the two men were nothing alike; Horatio was short and stocky where his brother was tall, his eyes kind and his smile easy, unlike Wickham, whose scowl was almost permanent.

“Honestly, Marwood, your manners are as atrocious as they were when we were children,” Wickham said. “Let him in, Grantham. He might get upset if you don’t.”

For a painful few seconds, Will was a child again, his feelings hurt at the sharp edges of George Newton’s childhood cruelty. He took a deep breath and forced a cold smile. “My thanks.”

As he followed Wickham through the house to his study, Will wondered where Horatio was. Was he asleep behind one of these doors? Had he already left, returning to London to get away from Will? The thought of not knowing where he was suffocated Will. He gasped in a lungful of air, trying to concentrate on his current problem.

In the study, Wickham sat down with practiced insouciance, gesturing to the chair opposite with a casual flick of his wrist. Will wanted to drive his fist into that smug face, but he forced himself to sit down.

“What troubles you, Marwood?”

Will was troubled by many things. He stared at Wickham, hating him, thinking about the way this man used Elizabeth and discarded her. “You must marry Lady Elizabeth.”

Wickham appeared taken aback by the directness of Will’s approach. He leaned forward, green eyes wide. “I confess I am curious as to the nature of your interest in this matter.”

Will clenched his fist, fingernails digging into his palm. “She was to be married to my brother, as you well know.”

At the mention of Alex, Wickham’s facade crumbled a little. Something like real pain flashed in his eyes, and he licked his lips thoughtfully. “Yes. I am not sure I have ever told you how sorry I am about his death, Marwood.”

“You have not. I am unsure if I am capable of caring less about your sympathy, Wickham.”

“I always liked your brother.”

“You never liked me. It is irrelevant. I am here to talk about Lady Elizabeth.”

Wickham inhaled through his nose, crossing his legs elegantly. “I am not sure what else there is to discuss, Marwood. I am not going to marry her. I know it may not seem like it, but it is a kindness.”

“A kindness,” Will echoed. “You used her and you have ruined her.

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