The Proud Viscount by Laura Matthews Page A

Rossmere closed his eyes, as though trying to remember precisely how Parnham had told this particular story. His voice took on an almost disembodied quality.
    “It was the stormy night, Monday, I think. Parnham had been into Lockley during the afternoon and on the way back his horse threw a shoe. He returned to Lockley and waited for the smith to repair it, which took an unconscionable amount of time, he said. When he got back to Parnham Hall, it was already dark and the storm had begun.
    “I can’t remember whether he said the servants didn’t know where Mrs. Parnham was, or whether they thought she was in her room. Parnham was soaking wet and went directly up to change. While he was changing, he heard noises coming from the balcony and then a feeble pounding on the door. He went immediately to open it, and there was Nancy, soaking wet and sobbing.”
    Before she could stop herself, Jane snapped, “Nonsense!”
    Ignoring this interruption, he continued. “According to Parnham, she clung to him and begged to know why he had locked her out on the balcony. Well, he was never so flabbergasted. In the first place, he had only just returned home, and in the second, the balcony door wasn’t locked!”
    “I’ve never heard such a pack of lies.”
    “But, Lady Jane, his valet was just coming in with a fresh shirt and heard the whole,” Rossmere assured her with a decided lack of conviction.
    “What is the purpose of such a tale?”
    Rossmere looked thoughtful. “He’s a born storyteller, of course, but I think this is more than an exaggeration. Has your sister mentioned any of this?”
    “Only the first one, about the hands being on backward. She was laughing at herself about that. I’m sure if there were even a grain of truth to the others, she would have said something. Does Parnham think this makes him more acceptable in my father’s eyes?”
    “Your father is a little naive, Lady Jane. He thinks of women as rather a mystery, and he’s not at all surprised to hear tales of this sort. He was concerned, and counseled Parnham to be sure that Nancy got plenty of rest and didn’t try to do too much.”
    “How could he be so taken in?” she demanded.
    “As you say, what purpose could Parnham have for lying?”
    Jane found that his eyes were on her now. “Do you believe him?”
    “I don’t know either of them well enough to make any pronouncement. Fortunately it has nothing to do with me. I simply thought you should know, since your father strikes me as someone who won’t bother to tell you, thinking the whole story a bit too upsetting for your fragile ears.”
    This forced a grin out of her. “You’re very clever at determining what people are like, aren’t you, Lord Rossmere?”
    He rose from the ground and stood towering over her before answering. “Not always. I’ve had a few experiences that have taught me to pay a little closer attention.” He held a hand down to her. “Would you like to go for that ride?”
    Though she let him help her to her feet, she shook her head. “Really, I have things I have to attend to. You go right ahead.”
    “Very well. Perhaps another time.”
    ‘‘Perhaps.’’
    Rossmere didn’t like to leave her standing there alone under the giant willow tree. Though she maintained an outward calm, he could see that his information had distressed her. Her hazel eyes were troubled and the smooth line of her jaw was thrust minutely forward in anger or anxiety. She wasn’t really seeing him, though her eyes followed as he turned away.
    When he was about to round the corner of the stables, he looked back and found her still there, staring vacantly in his direction. He regretted having to burden her with this disturbing mystery, but her father apparently had no intention of unraveling it, and he himself hadn’t the necessary knowledge. He had no doubt that Lady Jane was the one to approach. Her calm capability was her most obvious asset.
    Not that she didn’t have others. She