From the Viscount With Love

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  It was possible. Any of it. All of it. Probable even, especially if Candlewood had sent Greer to Frost's front door with this peculiar request.

  With a sigh of resignation, Frost took the sheaf of papers from Greer's outstretched hand. Given the smile on the man's face, the Runner must have known the viscount would eventually give in. Bugger that. "Very well. I shall read through this and see what needs to be done. Covertly, mind you. I shan't blunder in there blindly. If I do, I doubt Madame Desponia will be pleased and I might lose my access to the chit before I can even hope to assess what she might need."

  "Very good, my lord. You know best." With another twitch of his lips, Greer sketched a quick bow and then opened the doors to leave the room, only to come face to face with both Sarah and Dory - much as Frost had expected the man would.

  The Runner mumbled some sort of nonsense apology and bowed several more times before he finally departed, leaving two extremely curious sisters in his wake. The last thing Frost needed was curious sisters, blast it all. Especially where Harry Greer was concerned.

  "Well!" Dory exclaimed with just that small touch of pique she was so adept at finding in even the most mundane of words. "That was very rude of you. Propriety dictates that you introduce us to your guests." She then fluttered her eyes charmingly, though Frost was not about to be swayed. He would have laughed were Dory not so very much like him in so many ways. Including not above scheming to get what she wanted, even if all she wanted was information.

  "I was conducting business, not hosting a ball, Dory," he said crisply as he tucked the papers into the top drawer of his desk and locked it. He also would not put it past either of his sisters to snoop through his things, though he doubted they would stoop so low as to indulge in picking locks. Then again, they were his sisters, and they had learned their penchant for incorrigibleness at his knee, so perhaps not. "And if you had wished for a proper introduction, you should have knocked at the door like a proper lady and not been eavesdropping outside of it like commoners."

  That earned him a harrumph of disgust from Sarah and Frost glared at her for her most un-ladylike manners. "If we would have knocked, you would have told us to go away because you were conducting business."

  "And so I would have," he agreed easily, trying his best to forget that Ianthe was rumored to be the same age as his eldest sisters. "For what Mr. Greer and I were discussing is none of your business. Either of you." The last thing he wished to discuss with his sisters was his pending visit to a house of ill repute, especially one such as Lycosura, which had added all manner of vices in recent weeks, including a newly opened gaming hell.

  "That was Harry Greer?" Dory asked, suddenly far too interested in the man, her eyes bright with curiosity. "He is legendary." Then she snapped her mouth shut and bit her lip. But not before adding, "Not that I know of such things, of course."

  Frost shook his head as he returned to his desk. "No. Of course not. Why would you?" Once seated, he poured himself another glass of scotch and gave it a tentative sniff. Still not as excellent as Candlewood was capable of providing, but not terrible, either. And a gift was a gift. It would do as payment. For now.

  He felt rather than saw Sarah come to stand in front of him, her hands clasped behind her back. "What did Mr. Greer want, Robert?" she asked quietly and he picked his head up at her rare use of his first name. "Are more of Papa's old debts being brought forth?"

  Despite his best efforts, Frost had been unable to hide from his sisters the fact that two more of their father's old creditors had reappeared in recent weeks, claiming that while they had supposedly received payment years ago, they were now questioning whether or not proper interest had been paid on the debts.

  Frost, of course, knew that the required monies had been paid years ago, but there were still the legalities to see through, which his solicitor was now handling most efficiently. And even if the debts hadn't already been settled to satisfaction, Frost now had more than enough coin in his purse to see that they were. Once he had fully taken the reins of the viscountcy, he had been surprised to discover that despite poor marks in school, he was a genius with money. In fact, he had been able make the viscountcy solvent again in under two years, take care of his tenants better than most of his friends did theirs, and build a personal fortune on the side. Now at the ripe old age of one and thirty, he had more money than he and his sisters could spend in several lifetimes, and he could provide all three young women with shamefully enormously dowries and trusts for their children besides. And he intended to keep it that way.

  His good fortune, however, had also become apparent to several of his father's old creditors and over the years, many of them had come knocking on his door, seeking more coins for "suddenly discovered" old debts. The most recent parade of them had started about three weeks ago when the gossip column Town Tattler and its blasted author, Madame C., had run a small snippet on him and how he was believed to be using his wealth to secure husbands for both Sarah and Dory.

  That part was true of course, and he would not deny it. However that didn't mean he was about to hand out bank notes to any man off the street claiming an old debt. He was generous where his family was concerned, but he was not a fool. And in the last several weeks, plenty of men, particular old gambling associates of his father's had shown up with hastily scrawled notes that they tried in vain to pass off as old debts they had just recently "remembered." Several of them had even been so bold as to offer to take either Dory or Sarah off of his hands in payment.

  As if he was about to hand over one of his sisters to men such as those! No, Frost had high hopes for his sisters and he wished them to wed men of impeccable standards. Or at least better men than his friends or his father's old gambling compatriots were. And try as he might, Frost hadn't been able to hide any of that recent unpleasantness from his two eldest sisters.

  Then again, that might have had a little something to do with the fact that both of them loved to eavesdrop at closed doors and rummage through his papers while he was out. In many ways, Sarah and Dory were far too much like him for comfort. They were by turns ladylike when it suited them, and bold and brash when they felt the need. That was his fault, he knew, but he would not change them. Life for a woman of Society was difficult and many young ladies that Frost encountered in ballrooms were ill suited for the realities of life. It was a secret point of pride with him that his sisters were made of sterner stuff.

  That included his youngest sister, Aurelia, who had been left mostly unspoiled and not quite as brash, though she, too, had a strong independent streak that she had likely learned from her sisters. Frost believed Aurelia's subtle differences in personality were largely due to the fact that their father hadn't had the chance to influence her since he had passed on just before she was born. Still, like all of the Tillsbury women, Aurelia had spunk and Frost could not bring himself to curb her behavior either. She would need that strength when she married, he knew. All of his sisters would if they were have successful marriages. Love - such as it was - would not be enough. It never was.

  Drawing in a deep breath, Frost read the fear in Sarah's eyes and quickly reassured her. "No, Sarah. Fear not. The would-be creditors are being expertly handled by Mr. Dalworth, our solicitor. And even if there were actual creditors, I can assure you that I have more than enough funds to cover Papa's old debts. But there are none, so do not worry. Mr. Greer was here on business for Lord Candlewood. Nothing more."

  "He's a spy, isn't he?" That came from Dory who had joined her sister in front of Frost's desk. For a moment, they both looked fifteen again rather than the five and twenty that they both were. Life had been simpler when they were still in the schoolroom, but that was a very long time ago.

  "No, Lord Candlewood is not a spy." The denial was automatic on Frost's lips. Then he paused and rubbed at his temples where an ache was beginning to form behind his eyes. "Well, not in the way that you believe, Dory. But he does perform favors for the Crown from time to time."

&nbs
p; "As do you," Sarah replied pertly, refusing to back down. "Do not deny it, Robert, for we all know that you do. Including Aurelia."

  Again, that gave him pause. He had thought his youngest sister well protected from such rumors. Perhaps she wasn't as cosseted as he had believed. "And Mama?" He shuddered to think what sort of tongue-lashing he would receive if his mother knew what he was doing with his evenings on occasion. Especially since she believed he should be fully focused on finding a wife.

  Dory shrugged. "She is in the dark, as all of us expect you wish her to be. We will not tell her your secret if that is what you are worried about."

  That was precisely what Frost was worried about. "Thank you."

  "But in exchange for my silence, I would like an introduction to Mr. Greer, if you please." That was among the last things Frost expected Dory to say, but it should not have been. His sister was far too interested in the Runner for his liking.

  "No." Frost's refusal was automatic.

  "Then eventually, Mama shall learn the truth." Dory was seemingly unconcerned that she was blackmailing her brother. Sadly, that did not surprise him quite as much as it should have. His sisters were a handful and that, he knew, was largely his own fault.

  Frost should refuse her request. He knew that as well. After all, Greer was nowhere near close to Dory's station in life, despite his possibly noble parentage, and she seemed more than a little infatuated with the man, what with her interrogation of Frost on the subject. Then again, what could a simple introduction hurt? At the last ball they had attended, she had been dancing with some of the least acceptable men of Society, having somehow managed to turn off most of the acceptable ones. The same could be said of Sarah. If he was not careful, Aurelia was likely to follow in their slipper-shod footsteps.

  Not to mention that the season only had another month to go. What sort of trouble could Dory possibly get into in that short amount of time? It wasn't as if Harry was attending balls or musicales every night. No, if a brief introduction would keep his sister quiet regarding his activities, it would be a small price to pay. Then, they would be off to Hallowby Grange and the relative safety country once the season ended and she would likely forget this silly infatuation.

  "Fine," Frost eventually grumbled. "Mr. Greer will likely return tomorrow. I can introduce you then, if you would like." Dory practically squealed with glee but Frost held up his hand to quiet her. "In exchange, you will not breathe so much as a word to Mama about anything that I might or might not be doing for Lord Candlewood. Is that understood?"

  Clearly thrilled that she had gotten her way, Dory beamed at her brother. "Understood! And thank you." Then, she bounded out of his study without looking back. It was all Frost could do not to put his head in his hands and sigh. Lord, his head ached.

  "You should not have given in," Sarah sighed when they were alone. "Now she will know that she can manipulate you at all."

  "As can you," Frost reminded his sister. "You are simply more choosy in what you ask for."

  Nodding, Sarah smoothed down her skirts, still starting at the doorway where her far-more exuberant twin sister had departed. "At the moment, all I wish is reassurance that Papa's past will not come back to haunt us again. It is difficult enough as it is finding a proper husband. Or even a man I can tolerate for more than a dance or two. I do not need creditors, even false ones, banging at our door to make it worse."

  There was a part of Frost that wanted to ask what difficulties Sarah was encountering in her husband hunt. Though she was the older of the twins by a mere five minutes, she often acted as if she was ancient in comparison to her more lively sister. There was a weariness to Sarah that Dory did not carry and there were times when it concerned Frost greatly. Times such as now, for instance. Yes, the twins were older, certainly, but they were both still completely eligible and far from being spinsters. They did not need to consign themselves to accepting the least eligible men in all of England as husbands. Why not a duke or a marquess or an earl if that was what they wanted, even though Frost had never known either of them to care much for titles? They were not that old. Not yet anyway.

  Though they were not identical, both Sarah and Dory were still true diamonds of the first water. In many ways, he was actually surprised that Sarah had not yet managed to snare a husband, as out of the two sisters, she was the far more agreeable. Not to mention that her dowry was exceedingly tempting. What was wrong with the men of Society that she did not fancy at least one of them?

  The other part of him - the brotherly part - did not really want to know what sort of man Sarah fancied. That was...too personal. Especially since he had witnessed her speaking to his friend Lord Raynecourt several times over the last few weeks. Now there was a man who was entirely unsuitable for Sarah. Not because he was poor or had bad bloodlines, but rather because he was Frost's best friend - with a reputation little better than Frost's own. Even if he did tend to the quiet and bookish side at times.

  Deciding on a middle ground, Frost reached out and squeezed Sarah's hand. "There are no debts to be settled, Sarah. I saw to them all years ago. However, Lord Candlewood has requested my assistance on a rather delicate matter and I am not yet certain how it will play out. It could get messy before the end." In fact, when dealing with Madame Desponia and Lycosura, there were so many things that could go awry that Frost could not begin to catalog them all.

  "As long as you are certain, I am satisfied." Sarah gave a perfunctory nod. "And whatever The Bloody Duke has asked of you, I am certain you are more than up to the task." She looked at the door once more. "Now if you will excuse me, I must go find our sister before she fills Aurelia's head full of nonsense again. Honestly, the girl will be full of impossible dreams even before the end of the season if Dory has her way!"

  Then she was gone in a rustle of skirts and a cloud of lavender water, leaving Frost alone with his thoughts and the papers that Harry had brought with him earlier. Frost wished that he shared Sarah's confidence that everything would be fine and that he was prepared to handle whatever awaited him at Lycosura. For he was anything but certain that he could do ask requested. After all, Desponia guarded her girls carefully, and Ianthe, who was rumored to still be unspoiled, was her prized possession.

  No, this would not be an easy task and Frost wondered if perhaps he should have requested that Greer bring him more scotch from Candlewood's reserve. The viscount had a feeling that he was likely to need it.

  Chapter Two

  "I will expect you to do exactly as Lord Chillton requests tonight, my dear. I will not tolerate another debacle like your interlude with Lord Candlewood." Madame Desponia waved a piece of paper under Lavinia Tremont's - the woman now better known as Ianthe - nose with some force. "Your little refusal the other week could have cost me a fortune. I am simply thankful that The Bloody Duke has consented to give you another chance. Even if it is by doing something as simple as entertaining his friend." Then the older woman smiled. "If you play your part correctly, my dear, I stand to make a great deal of money from you."

  And what of me? Lavinia wanted to ask. You will make the money from my back, but what will become of me?

  However she knew better than to voice those thoughts. Instead she merely nodded and kept her eyes downcast, as was expected of her. She was a whore. Or she was about to become an actual one, at any rate. She had little choice. "As you wish, Madame. I shall do as he bids."

  "See that you do." Desponia had made her displeasure with her newest soiled dove clear the moment Lord Candlewood had left Lavinia's room the other week with trousers still intact and had not allowed Lavinia to forget the transgression for even a moment since. In fact, the brothel's mistress had even gone so far as to threaten Lavinia with a visit from one of Lycosura's coachmen if she refused to service a client again.

  If that happened, Lavinia would be bedded whether she wished to be or not. Since she had first arrived at Lycosura a little over two weeks ago, she had heard more than enough tales from the other working gi
rls to terrify her for the rest of her life. Including what happened to girls who refused to perform as Desponia wished. No, Lavinia decided as she sat on the bed, that would not be her. Therefore, tonight, she would do whatever was requested of her and do so quietly. She might not enjoy it, but she would do it. It was preferable to the alternative.

  This was now to be her lot in life. There was no place left to run. Much to her shame.

  "Is there anything else, my lady?" Lavinia asked as she rose from the bed, determined to see this night through to the end. Then, later, when the sun rose again in the sky, she could weep for what was lost. For she doubted very much that she would emerge from this night unscathed and in the same state she had entered it.

  At that, Desponia took a moment to study Lavinia's clothing. At Madame's direction, Lavinia had chosen the most low-cut gown in her wardrobe, one so indecent that her nipples were just barely covered and her shoulders were shamefully bare. She had hiked up the front of her skirt in two places, allowing anyone who looked a full view of her stocking-clad legs, as well as her garters, all the way up to the middle of her thighs. She had put on rouge earlier but had washed it off later when the viscount's missive had arrived, requesting that she be bare-faced. Madame had not liked that request much, but then, as the viscount - or rather the duke - was paying very well for Lavinia's company for the entire evening, she could not truly complain either. Still, Desponia liked to be in charge of all things. When she was not, she became a little surly.

  A pearl choker encircled Lavinia's neck and her hair was swept up in a loose topknot of curls. It would fall into a silken tumble of brunette curls down her back with a simple tug on the singular, oversized hairpin that held the entire coiffure in place. That, too, had been done at the viscount's request. Lavinia knew very well that normally, such requests would be ignored, but Desponia had agreed, simply with the hope of luring The Bloody Duke - and his fat purse - back into the halls of Lycosura.