From the Viscount With Love

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  "Where?" She could see his chest begin to rise and fall more rapidly, as if the very idea of touching her aroused him. She prayed that it did.

  "Anywhere you like." She ran a finger down his chin and along the strong, powerful column of his throat. "You choose."

  So when his hot, demanding hand closed over her aching breast, she moaned, the sound nearly wrenched from the depths of her soul. And when his other hand delved beneath the relatively thin cotton twill of her redingote, seeking the softness of her breasts and freeing them from their fabric prison, she nearly came undone where she lay.

  Robert Tillsbury was not the first man to touch Lavinia, certainly, but he was the first man to do so with any measure of care and concern. And that last, small part of her heart that he had not possessed before? With a kiss of his lips upon her bare, taut nipple, she gave away the last little piece of her soul that was still unclaimed to this man who treated her as if she was the most priceless and precious object in the world. She only hoped that, in the end, she did not come to regret her actions.

  Chapter Ten

  That evening as Lavinia strolled pressed tightly between Sarah and Dory, she was certain that everyone - including the two women on either side of her - could tell that she had been slightly debauched simply by looking at her. Though they had not done very much at all, especially for two people with the life experiences that both she and Frost possessed, Lavinia still felt marked somehow. As if Frost's passionate kisses had scorched her flesh, marking her as his possession.

  In a way, he had marked her, Lavinia thought, for one particularly exuberant open-mouthed kiss on the underside of her breast had left a bit of a bruising mark. But that was as far as it had gone and a part of her still wondered why. Or when he might actually bed her, for she knew that he wished to - and soon. She could see the desire in his eyes. There was still a part of her, however small, that believed him no different than most men and expected that he would likely use whatever opportunity next presented itself to get her skirts over her knees. Possibly even tonight. She had seen the passion in his eyes earlier that day. What she did not understand was why he had not simply taken her if that was what he desired. Especially since she desired the very same thing.

  That afternoon they hadn't disrobed any farther than they already had, simply lying in the grass together as Frost worshipped at her breasts. Lavinia had done her best not to beg him to simply take her and be done with it. After all, she knew the mechanics of the act, if not the actual act itself. There was really not much to it, or so she had been told more than once. All she needed to do was simply lie there and spread her legs so that the man might have his way with her.

  But Frost - who insisted there was a good deal more to the act that she knew - had refused Lavinia's advances and instead had escorted her home where they encountered Sarah and Rayne who had just returned from their drive, along with the groom that had been unable to keep up with Lavinia's horse earlier in the afternoon. If Sarah was suspicious when she saw her brother out with Lavinia, she said nothing, but the thin, grim line of Rayne's lips spoke loudly enough for both of them. And if the earl knew what she and Frost were about, then likely others would too. They must tread cautiously. After all, it would not do to bring scandal down on the Tillsbury family, especially not after they had all been so kind to her.

  In fact, since her own new wardrobe was not due to be delivered until the following day, Dory had graciously loaned Lavinia another gown for that evening's excursion to Vauxhall Gardens to watch the fireworks. The frock was a light confection of pale peach that, in the moonlight seemed to grace Lavinia with a lovely, golden glow. Or at least she thought so and Dory concurred, much to Lavinia's delight.

  Lavinia did not know why she cared so much about her appearance when she never had before, but she found that suddenly, she did. Very much so. She tried to tell herself that it was simply because she did not want to embarrass Frost or his family, and not because she wished for Frost to think her beautiful. But she knew that wasn't completely true either. Lavinia did want Frost to find her alluring and attractive, a lady rather than a doxy. She wanted him to think her desirable as well, though she also knew that she would never be as lovely as Frost's sisters, not even in their borrowed gowns.

  In fact, tonight, all three of the Tillsbury sisters were wearing similarly hued gowns, which seemed to annoy Aurelia, but Sarah and Dory found riotously funny. More than one passer-by had also remarked that they could see the family resemblance in Lavinia when she was in the company of the other three women. That, finally, had been enough to make Aurelia laugh and Lavinia noted that the entire mood of the group became much lighter afterwards. It seemed that much of the family conviviality depended upon whether or not the youngest sister was in a happy mood.

  Again, having never had sisters - or any sibling, for that matter - the entire interaction fascinated Lavinia. As did the fact that all of the sisters simply trusted their mother enough to follow her blindly through a darkened pleasure garden without a second thought. Lavinia would certainly have never followed her mother in such a fashion. Then again, her mother was not in the least a bit like Lady Chillton.

  "Where are we going again?" Lavinia asked, hoping either Sarah or Dory would have a better answer than they had the last time she had inquired. The small group of women had been following a servant with a rather scary-looking torch for what seemed like an hour or more, but was likely only ten minutes at most. She doubted that Lady Chillton who followed a few paces behind, would tolerate walking for that long without either refreshment or rest.

  "There is a new statuary garden on the far side of the complex that I am told offers the best view of the fireworks over the Thames." That came from the viscountess and Lavinia made a note that the older woman's hearing was excellent. That might be useful information in the future. "Chillton will be meeting us there, along with some of his friends. I have no idea how to find the location myself so I did the next best thing. I hired a guide." The older woman gave the handsome young man leading them through the darkness a cheeky grin and Lavinia could swear that she saw him blush, even in the dim light.

  As they had basked in the sun's rays that afternoon in the park, Frost had warned Lavinia about that evening's planned trip to the pleasure gardens and that his mother sometimes had a mischievous side that was typically matched only by the brashness of Rayne's mother. He had warned Lavinia not to be overly shocked by anything his mother might say or do, for when she was away from the prying eyes of society and hiding behind a mask as she was that night, she was likely to say or do just about anything.

  So far, that had proven to be the case.

  In fact, the woman who had made a scandalously suggestive remark to a half-clothed juggler and had also openly perused the muscles of a sword swallower did not remind Lavinia at all of the woman who had strode into Frost's study that first day and nearly flayed her son alive with only her words.

  According to both Sarah and Dory, Lady Clara Tillsbury had endured a horrific marriage and in her younger years, her bi-monthly trips to Vauxhall with a group of other married women had been her only source of joy other than her children. There, on the nights of the grand, masked parties, Lady Chillton could be the joyful, carefree young woman she had once been, free from the censure of society and the wrath of her husband.

  Lavinia could certainly see the attraction. If she had a place such as this to escape to when she had lived with her mother, she might not have run away. Instead, her only source of refuge had eventually become her prison as well.

  So if Lady Chillton seemed a bit more relaxed and quite a lot less matronly within this little paradise garden on Earth, it was not for Lavinia to criticize. In fact, she secretly envied the woman her freedom as a widow, however small.

  "Have you ever seen fireworks before?" Aurelia asked, her face hidden behind a mask like all of the others. However, she likely should have worn a wig as well, for her flame-red hair, so different from that of the rest of he
r siblings, shone like a beacon in the night.

  "There are not many such celebrations in the north," Lavinia admitted. "Though the Scots do often have them at Hogmanay. So while I have seen fireworks, they have been only small displays and never so close." Then she quickly clamped her lips shut, afraid she had revealed too much, but if the youngest Tillsbury sister noticed, she did not let on. Instead, Aurelia began describing the massive fireworks display that had marked the end of the Season the previous year, and how the smoke had clogged all of London for days.

  Lavinia knew that at some point, she would likely slip up in front of someone and reveal more than she ought, but thus far, she did not think she had done so, despite her little gaffe a moment ago. Oh, a supremely skilled spy or Runner might be able to track down her past easily enough, but it was unlikely. For a moment, she wondered again about Harry Greer, but at present he was nowhere to be seen. She had thought he might be around this evening, given how infatuated he appeared to be with Dory and she with him, but Lavinia had not seen him all day. Then again, it had only been one day without his presence and he was likely a busy man. Still, she decided it was best not to let her guard down.

  After another minute or so of walking, the small group arrived at what could only be described as a towering collection of some of the most poorly crafted statuary Lavinia had ever seen. Crudely carved, she thought the statues were supposed to represent various Egyptian gods, as that part of North Africa was all the rage at the moment, especially in terms of decorating. Except that what might have been ears were more in line with where an eye or a nose might be and she could not tell one hideous creature from another.

  "Ghastly, aren't they?" A deeply masculine voice at her shoulder let her know Frost had arrived. "Rayne, our resident scholar, is practically beside himself over how terrible the things are, but most of the others are finding them riotously funny."

  It was then Lavinia realized that they were not alone and she had actually arrived at their intended destination. Small groups of people clustered around the bases of the statues, milling about and accepting drinks from the trays of masked servants dressed in what might have been a poor attempt at ancient Egyptian garb. In the darkness, it was difficult to distinguish one person from another and she was afraid she had already lost sight of Lady Chillton and her daughters.

  "They are simply awful," she agreed, looking around again, worried that someone might spot her with Frost and call her upon it. "And I do not just mean the statues. Where are we, precisely?"

  Frost laughed, a throaty chuckle that sent shivers racing down her spine to settle deep in her belly. "Well, it was supposed to be termed 'The Garden of the Gods,' where Egyptian culture meets Egyptian statuary. However, the term offended some of our more scholarly peers, particularly those such as Rayne. Not to mention that the statues are abominably bad. The man who commissioned the entire thing, a duke with more love of Egypt than brains, took one look at the half-completed works and declared the entire project an utter failure. He rescinded his funding and left the mess unfinished. So until the entire lot can be carted away at the end of the Season, here is sits, a hideous testament to an exceedingly bad idea."

  "That is one way to put it, I suppose." Lavinia could not imagine anyone paying for this sort of thing. The idea might have been a good one, she supposed, if one loved Egyptian culture. And if the entire thing had been better executed.

  "Though it truly is the best location to view the fireworks, however," he supplied when the conversation lagged a bit. "And, of course, it is by far the best place for my mother to act like a young girl again, if only for an hour or so out of time."

  Thankful for the safety of her mask, Lavinia frowned. "I did notice that she was different this evening. Your sisters told me the reason."

  In the darkness, Frost reached out and linked his hand with Lavinia's. "Mama did not enjoy an easy life with my father. She became a shell of the woman she once was, living with him for as long as she did. Then, when he was gone, it was as if she blossomed again and everyone remarked upon it." He was silent for a moment. "I would never reprimand her as some sons who inherit early do to their mothers. Not ever. She deserves far more respect than that. And even if I was so inclined, I would not utter a single word about her visits here. This place brings her pleasure and I would never take that away from her. I am not so bad of a son as all that."

  "I would counter that you are a very good son, indeed." In Lavinia's opinion, she did not see how it could be otherwise. "Given what your sisters have told me, without you, the family would have floundered and likely collapsed beneath a mountain of your father's debts." As they had dressed for the evening, all of the Tillsbury sisters had revealed bits and pieces of their shared past and the turmoil they had been cast into with the event of their father's early death. For as much as she had been told, Lavinia still imagined there was a good deal more she did not know and likely never would.

  With a tug on her hand, Frost urged Lavinia to walk in the other direction. "Not as good a son as I could be, I fear. I have not yet wed to secure the line. In my mother's eyes, that is an enormous failing. I am also too much of a rake for her liking." Then he sighed. "And I also invited scandal to our door so many times over the years that the events do not all bear mentioning."

  It did not take Lavinia long to realize that his latest invitation to scandal had been the one that involved her.

  "I...see." She did not know precisely what to say. Or what he was attempting to tell her. "I am sorry, Frost," she finally offered. She could not bring herself to call him Robert at the moment. "It was never my intention to harm you or your family. If you wish, I will leave tomorrow." Suddenly, her euphoria from their time together in the park seemed to flutter away on the night wind as if it had never existed at all.

  "No. You will do no such thing." After his interlude in the park with Lavinia, Frost had once more taken a good, hard look at his actions. And he had decided that he could not stay away from Lavinia. It was an exercise in futility, especially when they both so clearly desired one another. So he had followed her tonight and waited until she stepped into the shadowy depths of the Garden of the Gods to approach her. To make his plea and hope she accepted. "Rather, I have something to ask you."

  Inside her chest, Lavinia's heart froze, for she was certain he was about to ask her to become his mistress. To move into the love nest and be available for him whenever he wished. And a part of her died at the very thought. It meant that she would never be anything more than a whore to him, despite his pretty words. Her performance for him that afternoon had likely been too much for him to resist, no matter what he had said at the time.

  "I know what you would ask," she began but his finger to her lips silenced her.

  "No, I do not think you do." Behind his mask, his gray eyes sparkled like diamonds in the night, full of mischief and hope. And pleasure. Most certainly pleasure. And again Lavinia cursed herself for being so forward and not remembering the lessons she had received long ago regarding how to behave like a lady. "You are thinking that I would ask you to become my mistress. To live in the house on Gracechurch Street and step away from Society so that we might become lovers in the truest sense."

  Looking down, Lavinia fingered her reticule, another item borrowed from Dory's enormous closet. "Is that not what you want? To lie with me like that? Please do not lie to yourself or to me, for I know that you do."

  "Lavinia, look at me." As he had in the park, Frost titled her chin up so that she would look at him directly. "Yes, I desire you. Just as you desire me. I think this afternoon in the park proved that beyond doubt. But what I offer you is something different. I would not dishonor you by asking you to be my mistress. As I have said repeatedly, to me, you are tonight and always will be a lady."

  Now Lavinia was truly confused. "So what are you offering me, Robert? For I do not understand how we can be together if I am not your mistress." Though a part of her heart sang at the idea that he truly saw her as somethi
ng better than a doxy.

  "I would offer you pleasure, pet," he said with that cocky grin she was coming to know so well. Even behind his mask, she would know that look anywhere. "I offer you a discreet night or two in my bed. However many we agree upon, actually. During the day, you would remain in Society, with my mother and my sisters. But at night? When the lights are out, the house is silent, and the servants abed? We would find a place within Chillton House that is truly our own. And there? I would woo you and pay you court and do all of those marvelous things you have likely only dreamed about but never experienced. I would tease you with the pleasures of the flesh, tempt you to become ready for me. Then, when we have reached our fever pitch, I will bed you and finally give you the pleasure that you have been seeking."

  That was not what she had expected him to suggest - at all. "Is that...possible?" For in Lavinia's mind, the proposition seemed a little too good to be true.

  "It is my house," he reminded her. "If I want something badly enough, I can always arrange it."

  When Lavinia did not immediately agree, Frost plowed on, taking her silence for the hesitation it was. "We would take care, of course, so that you do not get with child. After all, I know you wish to leave us soon, and I would never ask you to remain where you do not wish. I would never bind you like that, for I have the impression that you have been bound enough over the years." Frost might want Lavinia to stay, but he would not force her to do so. He was not that sort of brute. He was not his father. "But you could leave on your terms. Perhaps with some letter of recommendation if you wish to secure a position as a governess or something similar. The choice would be yours. But in the meantime, you would allow me to give you what I know we both desire. As soon as we both desire it."

  The idea had come to him as he had been escorting Lavinia home from the park that afternoon. The kernel of the idea had been born when she was lying beneath him on the soft grass, supple and pliant and gazing up at him with those magnificent blue eyes. That kernel had turned into a seed and then into a bud and from there, a fully formed idea. It was the ideal way to have everything he wanted. If only Lavinia would agree.