From the Viscount With Love

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  She hesitated for a moment before she whispered "Ianthe" in his ear.

  Frost understood her reason for hesitance. They had only just met, but she also did not seem to be the stupid, empty-headed sort of chit that populated the drawing rooms of London. Surely she knew that it was better to trust him than Desponia.

  "Your real name." Frost tried again, adding a coaxing note to his tone. "And no games. For I believe you are not quite what you seem, my dear. And I would like to help you. If you'll allow me."

  Those must have been the magic words because for the briefest of moments, she relaxed her guard and he could see a glimmer of hope spring into her eyes. "Lavinia," she breathed. "My name is Lavinia."

  It wasn't her full name as he had hoped for, but Frost had no doubt that she was telling him the truth. And he would not press her for more. "Very well then, Lavinia. I'm willing to offer you help, for much like my friend Candlewood, I believe there is more to you than merely a whore. You are also, I believe, intelligent enough to know when we are being spied upon."

  When she nodded, her lips still resting against his, he relaxed just a bit. "Very good. Then since you know that, you must also realize that we must make this believable, should Desponia's minions return. There will be dire consequences for both of us, I fear, if your mistress thinks we are attempting to deceive her. Which, of course, we are."

  When Lavinia didn't resist or contradict him, Frost continued to free her from the gown, pulling the fabric away from her body until her breasts were completely unbound, all while doing his best to remain a gentleman. Candlewood had paid for Frost to spend an entire evening in this woman's company. He intended to use every last moment available to him to discover what he could about her and her past. However, after he realized that they were being spied upon, he also knew that it would be necessary to make this seduction look extremely convincing. And that required far less clothing than either of them currently wore.

  This was not how he had intended for his evening to proceed. He had expected to stroll into Lycosura, meet Ianthe, spend some time with her and then waltz back out as free as you please with a report to Candlewood that he was mistaken about the chit. Or not. Either way, he didn't particularly care. This was just another puzzle to solve. What Frost had not expected was to open the door to this woman's room and meet the delightful - and altogether luscious - Lavinia.

  As usual, the duke had been correct in his observations. There was far more to this woman than met the eye. She had spoken of a nanny. She had admitted that her manner of speech was natural since childhood, indicating that she had most likely been born into the nobility, or at the very least, a class just below that of a true lady.

  She was also still clearly untouched. It was evident from the way she blushed to the manner in which she spoke. She flushed scarlet when she spoke of carnal acts, yet she forced herself to stand there before him offering her body for his pleasure. Frost had no doubt that had he chosen to bed her, she would have submitted herself to him. She might not have enjoyed it, but she would have done so. Mostly, he suspected, out of fear if nothing else.

  There was far more to this woman than met the eye. She was a puzzle. And Frost was very, very much intrigued. He wanted to know more about her. Hell, he wanted to seduce her! How could he not with those lush pink lips and fair, creamy skin surrounded by a light brunette halo of curls? Her eyes were the clear blue of an English lake that he had visited once in Cumberland. She had curves in all the right places and she kissed like she was blessed with a truly divine talent in the art.

  That she had sucked Candlewood's cock - and most likely the cocks of other men of the ton - did not precisely sit well with him, but then he was not looking to wed her. He merely wanted to rescue her. Possibly bed her later on, if things progressed as he hoped. And he did not have a prayer in hell of taking her to bed and discovering her secrets if she was snatched away from him by Desponia's interfering guards.

  Finally, when Lavinia's gown was completely undone, Frost sat up and unfastened his own trousers, allowing his cock to spring free, thinking that it would probably not be all that shocking to Lavinia should she catch a glimpse of it. He was wrong and given the way she stared at him, he found himself swelling so much that it was almost painful.

  He was just about to suggest that they continue this conversation in bed when he heard the shuffling sounds of the footman again. Rot and bother! Would they never be left alone? This needed to end. Now.

  "Trust me," he said again as he yanked out Lavinia's hairpins and tucked her beneath his arm. "And, ah, grasp my cock when I tell you to, love." Then, without waiting for her agreement - though a horrified gasp let him know she had heard him well enough - Frost stalked to the door and yanked it open. He whispered "now" as he did so and immediately felt Lavinia's soft grip on his still randy cock. Gads, he would be lucky if he did not embarrass himself.

  "What in the bloody hell is it?" Frost roared as the door swung open to reveal not just two footmen but Madame Desponia as well. "Can you not see that we are otherwise occupied? Is this a whorehouse or a ladies' society?" In that moment, he prayed that he was channeling enough of the Bloody Duke - not to mention a touch of his father - to be believable.

  Desponia at least, had the good sense to look embarrassed. Though Frost did note the glee in her eyes when she saw where Lavinia's hand was currently located, along with her clearly disheveled state and unlaced gown. "I was merely concerned...." she began but Frost cut her off with a growl.

  "The lady and I are doing rather well by ourselves. So I suggest that you leave us be unless you wish for the Bloody Duke to find out that my evening was ruined by whatever nonsense you and your friends are about!" Then he reached up and covered Lavinia's breast with his hand and to his delight, she moaned softly.

  Thankfully, he suspected her reaction was all too real. And completely believable.

  That, coupled with the threat of the Bloody Duke seemed to be enough to convince Desponia that finally tonight, her prized possession was about to be deflowered. With a smile larger than any Frost had seen on a successful matchmaking mama, Desponia backed away quickly, murmuring her apologies and issuing orders to the footmen to leave the two in peace. When the group disappeared around the corner, Frost retreated back into the safety of the room, but shoved the chair in front of it, wedging it beneath the doorknob. Just to be safe.

  When they were finally alone, he pulled back and offered Lavinia another bow, unable to help but notice that she released his swollen member far slower than he would have expected from an innocent such as she.

  "My apologies, Lavinia," he said as he watched her try to tuck her hair back up into the few pins she had been able to locate on the floor where they had scattered. "That was not how I intended for this evening to proceed."

  "That was precisely how I expected that it would," she quipped and then placed her hand over her mouth in horror at what she had just said. "That is to say...well, I mean..." When she realized that Frost was not rebuking her, her mouth snapped shut quickly. "My lord?"

  Instead of being angry, Frost found himself laughing. During this entire farce of an evening, outside of her name, that was probably the most honest she had been. And he found himself laughing in spite of himself. "Ah, Miss Lavinia, you are truly a delight."

  At those words, she stopped, pins still in her hand and looked at him with uncertainty in her eyes. "I am not sure I take your meaning, my lord. I have been called many things over the years, but a delight is not one of them."

  "Then that truly is a pity," Frost replied taking her hand and leading her back to the bed. He had warded off Desponia and her henchmen for now but there was no guarantee that she would not return. Better to be on the bed, he decided, than not. Easier to make the fools believe that something had happened that would not. At least not this evening. Much to his genuine disappointment he discovered.

  When she had finally settled beside him, Frost took Lavinia's hand in his, his gloves long gone. The f
eeling of her soft skin against his was rather novel. Even the mistresses he kept did not have such fine skin as this woman did. In his mind, that was yet more proof that she was not a whore but rather a lady. A lady who needed his help. Badly.

  Rayne would probably have much to say about what he was about to do - and in the coming days, Frost was certain that his friend would say it. Hundreds of times over unless he missed his guess. But for now, it was just Frost and Lavinia in this room. A room he could not allow her to stay in one night more than was strictly necessary.

  "Lavinia," he began, gratified when she looked up at the sound of her name on his lips, "I am about to make you an offer." When she started to open her mouth to speak, he held a finger up to her lips and she fell silent, yet another indication of her proper upbringing. "Let me finish. In less than an hour, I have deduced that not only are you not a whore, but that you are, in fact, a lady. Do you deny it?"

  It was clearly on the tip of her tongue to do so, but then common sense seemed to get the better of her and she sighed. "No. I do not." Then she looked around, her eyes wary. "But not here. The rest cannot be spoken of here."

  Frost gave a sharp nod. She was as clever as he had suspected. For some reason, that made him extremely happy, though he simply chalked it up to the late hour and the insanity he had endured since he had arrived at Lycosura. The chit was nothing to him but a poor, wounded lamb that he wished to save. What he would do with her once he saved her, he did not know. But that seemed unimportant at the moment. What was important was that he free her from this prison where she clearly did not belong.

  "As I thought. Very well, then. After tomorrow, you shall not be here, and we can speak freely. I shall go speak to Desponia at once." Then Frost sat back and waited for her to throw herself into his arms in gratitude. When she did not immediately do so, he was more than puzzled.

  "Are you daft?" she hissed, her eyes darting about the room. "What are you to do? March out there and announce that after one quick tumble, you wish to purchase me from her? She will never allow it after barely an hour! She will know that I am still chaste! Even you, my lord, are not quite that quick. Especially not with a virgin!"

  There was, Frost had to admit, a great deal of sense in what Lavinia said. Though given the way he was still reeling from her gripping his cock, he could hardly be blamed for muddled thinking. The woman did have a magical touch. "What do you propose then?" he asked. "After knowing what I do, I cannot leave you here where other men might...well..." He waved his hand in the air to indicate that she knew what he was referring to.

  She did and once more, she blushed prettily. "No, I do not wish that either. Especially as I am still..." She shrugged, not wishing to bring up the topic of her innocence yet again. Especially not with this man. For some odd reason, she wanted him to think better of her. And ladies did not discuss their deflowering with gentlemen. At least proper ones did not. She knew that much at least.

  "Er. Right." For once, Frost was at a loss. He was certain that Candlewood would have known what to do. But he was not Candlewood. He was simply Robert Tillsbury, a cad, rake and scoundrel. He was not a hero. But at his heart, he was still a gentleman, and he could not leave this poor woman here to suffer this fate.

  On the other hand, he was a seducer. And he did desire this woman. There was nothing to say that they couldn't...well...play a little bit. He would not take her innocence. He was a scoundrel. He was not a criminal. But he could do to her what he would do to any sweet young thing he encountered in a ballroom. And she had already seen his cock. There were few secrets left between then, other than the obvious.

  And they did need to put on a good show, especially if anyone was watching.

  More to the point, Candlewood had tasked Frost with rescuing the chit if necessary. Well, he had determined that she needed to be rescued. Therefore, he felt justified in taking whatever steps were necessary to secure her rescue. However...ungentlemanly they might seem.

  "I could always seduce you," he said, that familiar wicked smile coming back out to play. At her horrified look, he reached up to cup her face, hoping to reassure her. "No, love, not like that. But as you say, I cannot go traipsing out there now. And Desponia and her men might return. Some manner of undressing might not go amiss."

  She seemed to consider that for a moment before nodding. "I see your point. And I agree." Then she surprised him again when she turned around and presented him with her back. "My stays, if you please. We need this to look as believable as possible."

  Just when Frost thought this delightful little minx could not surprise him any more than she already had, she did so. And he was never so glad.

  Chapter Four

  Pacing his study in frustration, Frost did not know how long he had slept the previous night, but he was certain it could not have been more than a scant hour or two. Now, with the strong June sun streaming in through one of the large windows at his back, he wondered again why he had both risen so early and summoned his best friend Brook Bexley, the Earl of Raynecourt, better known simply as Rayne, to his home at such an ungodly hour. Then he remembered the sweetness of Lavinia's kiss and it all became much clearer.

  Frost had remained in her room within Lycosura for nearly five hours the previous evening. Or was it early this morning? He was no longer certain. But it did not much matter. They had been the most enjoyable hours he had spent in female company in a very long time.

  Lavinia was charmingly funny and extremely witty. She was also intelligent and with an occasionally sharp tongue. But she was not a prostitute and no amount of coin in the world would convince him otherwise. However, she was likely to become one in truth if he did not somehow remove her from Lycosura immediately. And with Candlewood gone on his extended honeymoon, it was up to Frost to rectify the situation.

  Thankfully, he had come up with a plan. He did rather like plans. They gave order to the un-orderly.

  So in the wee hours of the morning, he had stumbled home, not completely foxed for once but merely exhausted, and quickly penned several messages, sending sleepy-eyed servants out to deliver them as quickly as possible. For he knew that once the dawn broke, word of his "deflowering" of "Ianthe" would make its way through the clubs and gaming hells of London and she would now be in demand for her services. He could not allow that to happen, so the most logical course of action was to remove her from the brothel as quickly as possible. The only thing he did not know was how much it would cost him to do so. Yet whatever it cost, he had no doubt that it would be worth whatever price he had to pay.

  As of yet, however, there had been no response to any of his summons. Rot and bother anyway.

  Frost was just about to ring for Claxon, his butler, when a sharp knock sounded at the library door. Finally! It was about bloody time!

  "Come!" he barked, sounding far sharper than he wanted to and blaming it all on the lack of sleep.

  He heard the slight clearing of Claxton's throat, a sound he would likely recognize even when he was dead - and he did feel a bit dead at the moment. "The Earl of Raynecourt, my lord." Then the butler paused before Frost could turn from the small cart where he had decided to keep the scotch Candlewood had gifted him the previous day. "And the estimable Runner, Mr. Harry Greer, as well." When he finally turned around, Frost could see the confused frown marring his butler's face for a moment, but then it was gone, the man far too well trained to let any emotion show for long.

  "Thank you, Claxton. That will be all." Frost waved the two men into the room as his butler closed the door behind him, departing down the hall with a harrumph of annoyance. "Care for a drink, gentlemen?"

  It was Harry Greer who frowned first. "No, but thank you. I am on duty."

  "And it's a little early even for me," Rayne replied with a frown of his own as his eyes scanned Frost's slightly rumpled form. "Good God, man! What the devil have you been up to? You look as if you spent the night in the gutters of Whitechapel!"

  With a brief look and a nod of encouragemen
t from Greer, Frost gave them both his best cheeky smile. "I spent the night at Lycosura, as directed by our good friend the Duke of Candlewood."

  "I am sorry but I do not see how you spending the night in a brothel is any great news." Rayne shook his head and tucked the glasses had had been wearing into his pocket. "That is not exactly a new occurrence."

  "Nor was it what the duke directed you to do," Harry growled. At a raised eyebrow from Rayne, the Runner continued. "Our mutual friend the duke requested that Frost here investigate a certain woman at Lycosura. He believed that she was not quite as she appeared."

  "And he was correct," Frost jumped in quickly, not liking the direction this conversation was taking. He had thought the other two men would congratulate him for uncovering the information. And he did rather need their help. "The chit's real name is Lavinia and while she is no whore, she is not quite an innocent either though she is still chaste. I also believe, based on a number of different factors, that she is a daughter of the nobility. Though from where I could not say. The Lake District, perhaps. Or even Durham. Perhaps farther north. I am not good with accents."

  At that, Rayne gave a low chuckle. "I'll be damned. You sound intrigued my friend. This is truly a first."

  In return, Frost growled in frustration. "I am not intrigued!" Then he shrugged, for he was too tired to argue. "Well, perhaps a little. She is quite the complex little minx and there is far more to her than some mere society miss. That is why she and Madame Desponia are due here at any moment so that I may purchase her from the brothel."

  "You...what?" That came from Harry who spun around so quickly that he knocked into a decorative globe that sat in the far corner of the room, nearly sending the piece crashing to the floor. "You mean to purchase the woman, like some common trollop? As if she is a truly a whore?"