From the Viscount With Love

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  When they were finally seated on a bench at the far end of the salon, Frost peeled off his own sparring gloves. "I am doing nothing untoward with Lavinia. I simply...."

  "Cannot keep your hands to yourself and likely your cock in your trousers?" Rayne finished for him. "Even though you know it is a supremely bad idea on both counts? And that the lady wishes to leave when the Season ends and disappear once more? Or has that plan changed?"

  Frost shrugged, not liking how close Rayne had come to the truth. "As far as I know, she still wishes to leave Town in a few weeks. There is more to her than you know, my friend, and her situation is...rather complex. But in the meantime, there is no reason we cannot enjoy each other's company. Or more if we wish, at least until her family comes for her." When Rayne scoffed, Frost continued undeterred. "Last evening, she mentioned a grandfather as if he might still be alive. That, coupled with some other bits of information she has inadvertently offered up give me pause to think that she truly might be the daughter of nobility. Wasn't there rumor of an old duke way up north that lost a granddaughter? Rumor had it that it was a kidnapping. But what if it wasn't?"

  Rayne appeared to mull that over for a moment. "That does sound vaguely familiar, but you cannot be certain of any such thing." He frowned again. "And, might I remind you, that once more you are risking the reputation of your family to chase a ghost that might not be real."

  "Which is why I sent Harry off early this morning with the new information. He is completely discreet and I trust him implicitly." Frost hadn't particularly wanted to disturb the Runner at such an unseemly hour, especially as he had the feeling the man was already at his wit's end with another case of some sort. The Runner had been unusually distracted the last few days, which was not at all like him.

  However, this mission regarding Lavinia's past was, in a roundabout way, for the Duke of Candlewood. And the duke, at least at present, lined the Runner's pockets more thoroughly than Bow Street did or could even hope to any time soon. "Besides, if a true place in Society is Lavinia's birthright, should she not have it?"

  For once, Rayne seemed at a loss for words and shook his head with a sigh. "Frost, we have been friends a good long time. I have stood by you even when I thought you had lost your bloody mind, including that time you nearly got yourself killed in a duel with young Lord Dashfeld when the lad was but twelve and you were so foxed you could barely stand." He paused and ran a hand through his already messy curls. "But for once, I think you are making a mistake. Leave the lady be. Had she wished you to know the truth, she would have revealed it to you days ago. That she has not might be an indication that she does not wish to be found by her family. You did as Candlewood asked and rescued her from Lycosura. Now it is time to leave her be. Or to let her go, as you said that is what she wishes."

  "I cannot." Frost wished that he could explain his obsession with Lavinia to his best friend, but he could not. Mostly because he did not understand it himself. Would that he could, for things would be ever so much easier.

  "Yet did you not just tell me that she wishes to leave London and not be a true part of Society?"

  "I did." Frost did not like the look of utter confusion on his friend's face for it mirrored his own confusion as well. At least when he chose to acknowledge that he was quickly becoming mired in a paradox of his own making.

  The earl ran a hand through his hair again, a sure sign of his growing agitation. "Yet you are determined to pursue her as if she is staying. She says she wishes to leave, but you have just this very morning sent Harry out to find her family, all but ensuring that she will remain in London if they are found and willing to take her back! It makes no bloody sense at all! Once more, you contradict yourself!"

  Frost looked away, knowing that his friend was right, but refusing to admit it. "It is a complex situation, I agree. But, as I have said, I cannot stay away from her."

  "You wish to bed her."

  Frost's eyes snapped to his friend's face. No one was supposed to know that. "Not necessarily."

  "Do not lie to me, Frost," his friend grumbled, clearly disgusted. "From the first moment Harry gave you that packet on her, you were fascinated. The morning after you returned home and made the decision to purchase her, you were all but smitten. If she feels the same I do not know, nor do I pretend to, but I warn you that the chit has secrets, else she would never have been a virgin in a whorehouse in the first place. Use caution, my friend, before you are burned in the inferno that I fear surrounds her."

  That made Frost's temper rise. He was slow to anger but when he did, he could be vicious. So he took care to temper his words, lest he loose a friend. Though he was still extremely angry. "You do not know her, Rayne! I do! And I know what I am about. I am a grown man and can make my own decisions. I do not need you to tell me what I should or should not be doing! And that includes whatever I do with Lavinia!" He did his best to keep his voice low, though he was afraid that some of the more curious men at Gentleman Jackson's that morning had already overheard much of the argument. It would likely be in all of the gossip papers on the morrow, damn it.

  The grim, unhappy expression on Rayne's face indicated that he had anticipated such an answer from Frost and was not in the least surprised. "Then I will warn you to be cautious and, again, think of your family. Your mother had been like a second mother to me and your sisters like family. I do not wish to see them hurt for your folly."

  "And what of Lavinia? Who would help her?" Frost knew that his retort was sharp and he instantly regretted the hard tone, but he would not take the words back either. "She has a family as well, though they have all but abandoned her."

  "Fine. Do what you must," the earl grimaced, his own temper clearly stretched to the limits. "And I will do so as well." Then he picked up his sparing gloves and rose, stalking off in the direction of the changing rooms and leaving Frost on his own to cool his temper for a bit.

  Was he making a mistake by meddling into Lavinia's life? Frost did not think so. Nor did he believe he was putting his family at any great risk. Yes, he was creating something of a paradox by meddling into Lavinia's past, but it could not be helped and might be what she truly wished for, even if she did not yet know it. He had long suspected that there was great tragedy in her past, especially considering where he had found her. Was it not possible that she wished to go back home but believed she would not be welcomed? Of course! In fact, it was very likely.

  However a small twitch of something a bit foreboding niggled at the back of his mind when he thought too long and hard on the topic, though he did his best to ignore it. The possibility that his poking into the past was not a good thing did not fit the narrative he wished to write. So therefore, he would ignore it and hope it went away, as he usually did when faced with any sort of unpleasantness. Especially were females were concerned.

  Ever since he had become the viscount, Frost had done as he pleased. He took what he wanted, including bedding the women of his choice. Though never an innocent. Except that Lavinia wasn't truly an innocent. Rather, she was a puzzle, and that was something that Frost could never walk away from.

  He saw no reason why he could not protect his family and help Lavinia at the same time. All it would take was some care. Though he did admit to himself that part of his wish to help Lavinia stemmed directly from his desire to bed her. There could be no getting around that and Frost was not so foolish as believe otherwise. He might be smitten but he was not an idiot.

  Resolved once again to continue on the path he had chosen, he picked up his own gloves and rose to follow his friend back to the changing area, hoping that the earl's temper had cooled. He did not wish to go another round - either verbally or physically - with his friend again today. Rayne might think Frost was being foolish, but he wasn't. At least not any more foolish than the earl, who was suddenly running around in a rush to do Lady Chillton's bidding, especially where Sarah was concerned.

  For a moment, Frost wondered why his mother suddenly had a desire to make
Sarah seem more eligible. True, she was the older of the twins by a few minutes, and should really be the first to wed. But Frost had repeatedly assured all of his sisters that they did not need to marry if they did not wish to. He had more than enough funds to see them all comfortably situated if they chose to remain unwed. Unlike most brothers in his position, he would not force them. He - and they - had lived with the consequences of an forced union that spawned nothing but misery and he would not inflict such pain on his beloved sisters.

  It was not as if Frost himself was in any rush to wed, either, and when he did finally decide to take a bride and secure the viscountcy? It would be discussed among the family, all in a neat and proper way. That was Society's way and, despite his own often hedonistic ways, when it came to something so important as the future of the family's title, Frost would not deviate from tradition.

  And in the meantime? There was no reason he and Lavinia could not indulge themselves in a bit of bedsport when she was finally ready. It was what they both desired after all, and as long as he took precautions, no harm would come from it. Lavinia did wish to leave Town at the end of the Season, and while the idea of that occurring did not always sit well with him, he could not stop her. Not unless Harry made some progress uncovering her past, of course.

  And during the time that Frost was attempting to woo her into his bed, there was nothing that said he could not be seen in Lavinia's pleasant company. For she was immensely interesting to converse with and had a number of strong opinions on a variety of different topics. After all, it would look strange if he was not in her company, at least on occasion. She had been touted as a distant member of his family after all. If he did not dance with her at balls or accompany her in public at times, it would appear to all and sundry that he was attempting to distance himself from her, as if he doubted their familial connection. Wouldn't it? Yes. Yes, it would. And that would not do.

  And as for when Lavinia left town? Well, his mother would come up with some plausible excuse, Frost was certain. She always did. And she was extremely good at the art of deception, especially when it came to fooling Society. After all, most everyone in the ton believed that his parents' marriage had been a happy one. Only those truly close to the family knew otherwise.

  But that was for the future. A time that was not now. For the present, Frost's course was set, his plan made. And in his estimation, it was a very fine plan indeed. Now, it was time for the next step. It was time for him to begin his "not quite" courting of Lavinia so that she might be ready to come to his bed in the near future - especially as the Season was rapidly drawing to a close. And, given that it was already afternoon, there was no time like the present to start.

  Lavinia had not thought it possible to tire of shopping so quickly. After all, it had been a pleasure she had long been denied. However, she was beginning to believe that it was an activity best done in moderation. Not that any of the Chillton women seemed to share her point of view. Or believe in moderation of any sort.

  Currently they were perusing the cases at a local jeweler's establishment. Lavinia, of course, had never set foot in such a store in her entire life, and she was desperately attempting not to appear overly gauche by staring at all of the sparkling treasures lined up in the cases before her. The purpose of the visit was to find her a suitable string of pearls, a task that Lady Chillton had undertaken with great enthusiasm, even though Lavinia had protested greatly that she did not need such an extravagance.

  However the viscountess refused to be gainsayed so here they were, all five of them in the jeweler's shop while Lady Chillton haggled in a very un-viscountess like way over the price of a strand of pearls so creamy and white that Lavinia had never seen their like - not even around her own mother's neck. And Lady Augusta Tremont had always made certain to own the very best of whatever her heart desired.

  If anything, Lavinia believed that Frost's mother was actually enjoying herself, as was the shop's proprietor, a Mr. Roarke, who specialized in catering to only the highest reaches of Society. Not that Lavinia was in any state to once more protest this latest transaction of the afternoon. In fact, she was so exhausted from both shopping and attempting to dissuade the viscountess regarding what Lavinia viewed as unnecessary purchases, that she did not know how she would make it through Lord and Lady Felton's musical later that evening. After all, Lavinia hadn't slept a wink the night before.

  After returning from a rather late night at Vauxhall, Lavinia had pleaded exhaustion and gone right to her chambers when they returned to Chillton House, even though Dory, Sarah, and Aurelia wished to continue discussing the nuances of the night in great detail. Especially Dory, as the young woman seemed to delight in needling her sister regarding Lord Raynecourt's constant presence in their group that evening. As well as his seemingly endless attention to Sarah.

  Yet the earl still had the presence of mind to notice that both Lavinia and Frost had disappeared from the group, even if the others in their party hadn't. And Rayne had clearly been awaiting their return, for he gave them both a sour look when, at the end of the fireworks display, both she and Frost had appeared at the back of the group as if they had been present all along. Even when they hadn't been.

  No, the earl was too clever to allow such a thing to go unnoticed, and Lavinia had the distinct impression that the man did not care for her. Or perhaps it wasn't so much that, as he did not care for how enmeshed Lavinia now was in the lives of the Chillton women.

  Nor did Lavinia believe that the man was completely in the wrong. Her very presence in the house could cause irreparable harm to the women of the family if their ruse was discovered. Frost himself would not suffer for having a suspected harlot under his roof and living among his family. But his mother and sisters certainly would. It was why Lavinia was still not altogether comfortable with this plan of Lady Chillton's, but they were so deeply entrenched within it that there was no turning back even if they had wished to do so.

  It also bothered Lavinia that she had slipped up and revealed more of her past last evening. She prayed that Frost had ignored her words but she doubted it greatly. The man was far too curious about her past for her liking, and she knew that he would pounce upon any information she provided, no matter how small. All she could do was hope that her words did not lead Frost - or worse Harry Greer - to Castle Dunlein and her grandfather, the Duke of Annandell.

  As if merely thinking of him could make him appear out of nowhere, the bell above the door to Mr. Roarke's shop jangled loudly, pulling Lavinia out of her daydreams. Frost strode in with the spring breeze, as handsome and confident as Lavinia had ever seen him. Though there was a slight hitch in his step, as if his stomach was troubling him. She wondered what he had been doing all morning and prayed it was nothing suspect. Or involving another woman. Though he was not hers, the idea of him lying with another lady when he had expressed a desire to take her to bed did not exactly sit well.

  Not that she believed he would do such a thing, of course, but still, the ridiculous thought burned through her mind, sparking jealousy deep within, and making her wonder what was wrong with her. Frost was not courting her. He wished to take her to bed. Nothing more. But a part of her, a very small part that her past had not completely destroyed, wondered what it would be like if he did court her. Properly. Like a lady.

  Immediately, Lavinia refused to ponder the subject any longer. Down that path lay danger and ideas she should not entertain. They were dangerous, especially if she hoped to leave Town in a few weeks and begin a new life.

  As Frost approached, Lavinia dipped her head slightly. Her instinct had been to curtsey, and she nearly had. However, as supposed family, had she done so, the action would have been immediately noted by Mr. Roarke who was now watching their interaction with avid interest, much to the detriment of his coin purse since he was nodding in agreement with whatever Lady Chillton said regarding the price of the pearls.

  "Dearest! What a surprise!" Lavinia was not surprised in the least when Frost's mo
ther went from haggling over the necklace to turning her eagle eye upon her son faster than a cat could corner a mouse. "I did not expect to see you until this evening."

  As expected, Frost ambled over to his mother and dropped a light kiss on her cheek. "I was just on my way home from Gentleman Jackson's. I spent the last few hours sparring with Lord Raynecourt. When I saw our carriage outside, I decided to stop in and see if you required assistance." He moved his shoulder stiffly and Lavinia wondered if Rayne had bested Frost in the ring. "The man has developed a wicked right hook all of the sudden, much to my detriment I'm afraid." For some reason, that explanation of his injuries made Lavinia feel oddly better, even though she did not particularly care for the idea of his best friend beating him so soundly. On the other hand, Frost had not been with a woman, so there was that to be thankful for, she supposed.

  "Oh, dear. Is that that late already?" Lady Chillton asked as she peered at the clock on the wall behind Mr. Roarke's counter. "I had hoped to be finished with my shopping by now but everything has taken much longer than I had anticipated. And we have yet to visit Hatchard's so that Lavinia might see if they have the latest gothic novel by that scandalous but ever so entertaining female novelist. You know. The same one who penned Mrs. Kingsley and the Black Pirate several years back. Lavinia mentioned earlier that she rather enjoys those lurid gothic novels, and I confess that I do as well. I was hoping we might obtain a copy of the woman's latest work for our library."

  From the bemused expression on his face, it was clear that Frost had no idea what his mother was rambling on about, but he also seemed inclined to humor her, and Lavinia found that his actions touched a part of her heart that she had long thought locked away and immune to such gentlemanly actions. This was dangerous territory indeed.