Brynne expressed his sincere appreciation. “But it’s really Lady Letitia who is determined to find out all she can. It isn’t so much the battle, but the families involved.” He stopped, not wishing to further discuss his family history or lack thereof.
“You know, Wrexham is a small place and there aren’t many secrets here. Lady Frances paid a call on us earlier today. Needless to say, we know everything.”
Brynne stifled a groan. “Then you know I’ll be leaving in a few days’ time.”
“Breaking Lady Letitia’s heart.” He grabbed two glasses filled with champagne off the tray of a passing servant and handed one to Brynne. “I love my wife deeply,” he said, “but I almost lost her because of my stubbornness. Fortunately, I came to my senses in time. Now, I can’t imagine my life without her.”
Brynne tried not to appear rude or impatient, but he wished the viscount would get to the point.
“Lady Letitia obviously loves you. And you don’t appear to be immune to her charms.”
“So why haven’t I claimed her for my own?” Brynne arched an eyebrow. “Did Lady Frances neglect to tell you of my parentage?”
He shook his head. “You are Lord Woodburne’s adoptive son.” He paused a moment and waited from Brynne’s response.
Brynne sighed. “That’s right. Adoptive, as in dumped at his doorway one wintery night. I have no idea who my parents are or why they didn’t want me. As for Lord Woodburne, he’s one ofthe finest men I know. But I’m not his heir and he never formally adopted me. But I owe him everything, for he saved my life that long ago night. I will never ask more of him. He raised me as his ward and educated me, showing far more generosity than he ever needed to.”
Lord Woodburne had taken him into his home when he could have tossed him into the stables to grow up to be a groomsman, or turned him over to the nearest orphanage… or simply left him on the doorstep to die.
Wrexham seemed genuinely distressed. “Forgive me. I’ve stupidly overstepped. I’m truly sorry if I’ve caused you any pain.”
Brynne took no offense. In truth he liked the viscount, and although he was reluctant at first to accept the invitation to visit his library tomorrow, he readily agreed. He knew Lettie would be delighted, not only because it was another resource for her hopeless search, but she seemed to like the cheerful and engaging viscountess very much.
The viscount and his wife had spent far too long with them and soon left to attend to other guests. Lettie went off with Frances to be introduced to more friends, but Brynne had been more shaken by his conversation with Wrexham than he was willing to let on. That conversation made him realize just how impossible his situation was.
Oh, he had brains and confidence and a good education now. He’d make his way in the world, of that he had no doubt. But it would be without Lettie, for daughters of earls married somebodies.
And he was a nobody.
After spending almost every waking moment of these past four days with Lettie, he felt surprisingly bereft when he was seated a good distance down the table from her. Of course, it was to be expected. They were seated according to rank. Hisdinner companions were quite pleasant, mostly prosperous local families with no aristocratic connections.
Lettie’s dinner companions, obviously sons of dukes and earls, were too busy ogling her chest to look higher and notice her beautiful face.
He’d have to break a nose or two if the louts didn’t start behaving themselves. As though sensing his menacing gaze, they finally did. That was worse, for once they really noticed Lettie, they were besotted. He wanted to break their noses anyway, but that was just his protective instincts acting up.
He supposed there was a healthy dose of possessiveness mixed in, too.
He silently chided himself for worrying about Lettie as he did. The girl knew how to take care of herself. She’d proved as much as the scrappy five year old who’d come to his rescue long ago.
After supper, instead of the men stealing away to have their port and the ladies going off to do whatever they did while the men drank, the viscountess invited everyone into the music room. She was an accomplished musician and graced with a lovely voice, so her guests were delighted when she offered to entertain them with English and Scottish ballads.
Lettie sidled next to him, ignoring the noblemen who were besotted and could no longer bear to live without her. The urge to break bones subsided and he began to pity those men, for he understood what they were feeling.
He wasn’t certain Lettie understood what was happening, she was that inexperienced around men.
It didn’t stop her from breaking hearts though.
Mainly his.
She had never mastered the ability to look upon anyone with cool disdain, and kept shooting him private smiles as the viscountess sang of broken hearts and men dying in battle. “Ihave so much to tell you,” she whispered, leaning against his chest and immediately bringing his heart to a stop.
He edged away. “Tell me later.”
She nodded and returned her attention to the musical recital, but a moment later she leaned into him again. “I met two Berts tonight.”
Was she purposely trying to torture him?
“Hubert Rockville is a marquis. Norbert Leysdown is a viscount,” she said in a whisper, her shoulder once more molding to the curve of his chest. “But I didn’t like either of them. They’re not my Bertie. And I haven’t heard anything yet from Jeremiah. I was certain he’d give me another clue today.”
