From the Viscount With Love

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  Once more, Sarah blushed and the icy blue gown she wore to set off her golden hair to perfection shimmered as she moved. Sarah Tillsbury was a true diamond of the first water in a way that Lavinia could never be. That was precisely why Lavinia owed the other woman this bit of insight.

  "We are friends," the other woman insisted but Lavinia could see the spark of a greater affection deep within Sarah's eyes. "He does not care for me in that fashion. He has mistresses for that sort of thing, as you are well aware." Then her gaze clouded over, likely remembering their encounter with Miss Crestwood at Madame LaVallier's.

  "The man cares for you," Lavinia insisted, rising now as well. "Lord Raynecourt is, if not besotted, then certainly smitten. While I do not know much of men, I know what I observed back home. Men do not pay that much attention to ladies who do not capture at least some of their imagination. Or their heart. They are not nearly so complex of creatures as they like to pretend." That, too, had been a difficult lesson to learn, but at this point in her life, Lavinia knew it well.

  Sarah inclined her shoulder in a shrug. "Perhaps. But it is of no consequence. Even if I did fancy him and he me, my brother thinks Rayne is completely unsuitable for me." There was a hint of misery in her tone that no amount of play-acting could hide.

  "Your brother is not a good one to judge others for questionable actions," Lavinia reminded Sarah softly. "His own reputation is not spotless." Far more than the other woman likely even know.

  Sarah picked up a brush from the dressing table, yet another gift from the Tillsbury family that had been awaiting Lavinia when she had returned to her room after that first shopping expedition. She strongly suspected that Frost had been behind the complete outfitting of her room, though even now she could not be certain and direct questions aimed at his sisters over the past few days had yielded no real answers. Not that Lavinia had really expected otherwise.

  "If it was, he would then not be my brother." Sarah twirled the brush in her hands. "And I would not change him for anything. Not even his occasional bad behavior. But I would see him be happy. I believe you make him happy, Lavinia." Then Sarah cocked her head again. "But if you cannot see yourself with him forever, then please, let him go. My brother fears love above all things. He knows lust and desire all too well. But not love. And I fear that if you leave him, too, you might well break him in the process."

  Lavinia had no idea what to say to the woman in front of her. Love was not something she had much experience with either. And the idea that Frost might break if she left? That was...simply not possible. Sarah only believed that because she did not know the truth. If she did, she would see that there was no way that Lavinia could break Frost's heart. He, however, could break hers - if she allowed it.

  "Sarah, I appreciate your concern, but your brother and I? We are...well, I am not certain what we are. Friends, certainly, but nothing more. He is merely being kind to me, as he would to any woman in my situation." That much was true, for he had been kind to her from the moment they had met.

  Frost's sister looked as if she wanted to say more but a knock on the door interrupted them. Without waiting for a response, both Dory and Aurelia practically tumbled into the room, a tangle of arms, legs, and pink silk for Dory while Aurelia was clad in a silver so light that it was nearly white. Much like Frost's eyes.

  "Hurry, you two!" Aurelia demanded impatiently. "Mama is already downstairs waiting for us! And Lord Raynecourt, as well as Mr. Greer!" Then she paused and cocked her head to the side much as her sister had done moments ago, clearly a shared family trait. "I don't think Frost expected to see Mr. Greer tonight, but then he just appeared at the door wearing evening clothes and with a small coach." Then she smiled in that same devilish way her brother often did. "Mama, however, was absolutely delighted to see him."

  Unsurprisingly, Dory had wasted no time scampering to the window in Lavinia's room and peering down to the street below where two coaches waited in front of the town home. Even though she and Sarah were the same age, it was clear that Dory was the more playful twin and Sarah the far more serious.

  "Is he going to the ball, I wonder?" Dory asked aloud, almost breathless in anticipation. "I know that he is not technically one of us, and yet I still cannot help but wish..." She trailed off as she bit her lip, her unspoken words still hanging in the air.

  "Goose!" That came from Aurelia who also raced across Lavinia's chambers to stand at the window and peer down, the silver gown making her appear more like an angel than a young woman. "Mama might see you!"

  "I doubt she is outside looking up here at this very instant," Dory retorted, her nose pressed hard to the window. If it had been open, Lavinia had no doubt that the woman would be leaning out for a better look.

  Sarah heaved a beleaguered sigh and crossed to the window as well. "Now you are both being ridiculous! I am certain that Mr. Greer is on his way elsewhere and merely stopped by to see Robert first. Likely about business." Lavinia's breath caught at Sarah's use of Frost's first name. Then again, she was his sister, so of course she would call him that. "Mr. Greer is an important and busy man. I am certain he has better things to do with his evenings than go to balls with the likes of us."

  "You do not know that for certain," Dory huffed and Aurelia nodded in agreement. "He might be here for some other reason."

  Just then, an emotion so deep and painful that she almost doubled over with the power of it welled up inside of Lavinia. Looking at the three sisters standing there by the window squabbling good-naturedly over the reason for Mr. Greer's visit, she found herself wishing that she could be a part of this forever. She had never had sisters, though she had wanted a sibling fiercely. Even a brother. At times, especially a brother. But Lord and Lady Galeton, Lavinia's parents, had only ever produced one child - her.

  Lavinia had never been part of a true family, at least not one such as this. Oh, this family argued and pestered each other at times, but they also laughed together and shared a bond so deep and true that no one was ever likely to break it. Not even her. And she would never dare try.

  Once more, the necessity of her departure was driven home, for Lavinia would never risk this wonderful family for her own sake. She might love Frost deeply - and indeed, she now believed that she did - but she would never ask him to choose his family over her. For that was an impossible choice. Moreover, as Sarah had said, Frost was afraid of love. So in the end, he would never choose Lavinia, no matter how deeply she loved him. It was not within his capacity to love, at least not in the way she desired.

  It was family and, despite his claims and actions to the contrary, at least some of the rules of propriety that meant the most to Frost. It was not love. Or at least not the love of a woman, but rather the love of his family. He would choose his family over a woman each and every time. She needed to remember that.

  Except that sometimes, like now, it was easy for Lavinia to forget that she was not truly a member of this family. If she had been, it might have been easier. Instead, she was a fallen woman, in name if not in truth. There was desire between her and Frost, but nothing more. And there never could be.

  For a moment, Lavinia thought about fleeing right then, but then brushed that idea aside as quickly as it had entered her mind. When the time came, she would leave. When everything was in order and she had a place to go. And while that day was coming, it was not here yet. And until it did arrive, she would make the most of her time here in London. With Frost and his family. And with Frost himself. It was time. She was ready.

  Once more, as if by magic, she turned, only to find Frost watching her with dark eyes from the doorway. She had no idea how long he had been there, but from the bemused expression he wore, it had been long enough to hear his sisters arguing over the purpose of Mr. Greer's visit.

  "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice thick and husky as his gaze swept over her, taking in everything from the spangled combs in her hair to the diamonds at her throat. Then, he lowered his voice, so soft now that even she had to
struggle to hear. "I'm pleased that you're wearing my gift."

  "How could I not?" Lavinia smiled at Frost and felt a tightness in her chest lighten a bit. Still, there was a voice in the back of her mind that whispered that men brought diamonds for their mistresses, women they wished to bed. They did not buy them for proper ladies they were courting. However she shushed the voice and focused all of her attention on the man in front of her. "They are lovely. And completely unexpected. But not unwelcome, I must confess."

  Frost smiled then, and this smile was different from the ones before. There was a raw, seductive quality that she had not seen from him, one that made her shiver all the way down to her toes. "They suit you. I wanted you to shine tonight, Lavinia. The Season is drawing to a close. Time is running out. Quickly."

  "I know." She flicked her eyes to his, praying that he would interpret her next words as she meant them, for she did not want to say too much in front of his sisters. "And I am ready. Whenever you are." And she did not simply mean to depart for the ball.

  Frost drew in a sharp breath and Lavinia knew her words had found their mark. "Are you? Really? So soon?" His heated gaze told her what his lips could not. He was ready as well. He had been for a long time. He had simply been waiting for her.

  "Yes," she confirmed with a shaky breath. "I am. Tonight, if it is feasible."

  "Done." His voice was commanding and she thrilled to it, though she reminded herself again that this was not love and could never be. This was passion. Nothing more.

  When Frost pulled away from her slightly, Lavinia realized they had finished their private conversation just in time. For there, finally moving away from the window, were his sisters. And they all looked extremely curious as to what the two of them had been discussing. In her heart, she prayed that they never found out for fear it would destroy their good opinion of her. Lavinia did not think she could bear that, especially from the women she had come to view as sisters.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Marchand ball was a lovely and altogether elegant affair. At least according to his mother. And his sisters. Frost wasn't certain how Lavinia felt about the entire teal and lilac-hued spectacle, though he suspected that any woman would likely adore the big balls of netting that floated overhead like clouds, as they were all the rage this season. They also likely had a name, but he did not know it. Nor did he wish to.

  For his part, Frost was finding the entire affair crowded. And tedious. And seemingly endless. Much to his annoyance.

  Rot and bother. He wanted this infernal thing to be over and done with. Soon. Except that the dancing had only just started, and he did not think that he could sneak away with Lavinia just yet. At least not without raising undue suspicion.

  Lavinia.

  Even just her name clouded his brain this evening to the point of utter distraction. That was not a good thing. For she had informed him that she was ready to join him for bedsport, and he fully intended to take her. But likely only after she confessed the truth. A truth that he now knew courtesy of the fine work of Harry Greer. The man was completely thorough. Frost would give him that.

  When the Runner had first brought the report to him at his home earlier that evening, Frost had nearly blanched from the horror contained within. For a woman to be so mistreated by her own family was appalling. It fact it had made Frost a little ill for a moment or two. Then he had wondered how Lavinia had managed to survive as well as she had, for it seemed all but impossible to him. And lastly, he had made the decision then and there that he would not bed her until there were no more secrets between them. Especially one this big. In fact, he was prepared to delay, to give her more time.

  Then he had entered her chambers to find his sisters chattering away and Lavinia looking on like an amused older sister might. And he lost his resolve. He wanted to be a better man than he was. He wanted to wait, to give Lavinia time, uncertain how much of her professed attraction to him was merely bravado, telling him what she believed he wished to hear, and how much was the result of her true feelings.

  Did he even wish the attraction was true? A part of him did, Frost had decided on the coach ride to the ball. The very idea terrified him, but there it was. He wanted Lavinia to desire him. And only him.

  Still, attraction was not love and Frost knew he could not allow this infatuation to get out of hand. If he was a good and moral man, he would give Lavinia more time, continue to play at this false courtship they had been indulging in - if one could even call it a true courtship. The papers did not term it that, certainly, nor did his family. Did he? He was...uncertain. Then, he would wait until she came to him with the truth, felt secure enough in him to protect her, and then he would bed her. Not a moment before.

  Then again, if he was truly a good and moral man, he would not touch Lavinia at all. He would not even consider it, especially after he learned of all she had endured over the years.

  Except that when she had looked at him through those heavily lashed eyes and had whispered those sweetly seductive words, he found that all his good intentions - as well as his vow to wait for the truth from her lips - slipped away like wisps of smoke on the summer breeze. And he inevitably gave in to his base nature like the rake that he was at his heart.

  I am ready.

  And when Frost gazed into Lavinia's eyes, he knew that she was ready. Truly. This was no lie she told simply to please him. That eased his conscience somewhat, at least.

  Still, he wished for the slate to be clean between them. So that when he finally peeled that dress from her delectable body, she knew that he was aware of her past - all of it - and simply did not give a damn.

  Frost thought to go in search of the card room, hopefully to find someone, perhaps Viscount Underhill - who seemed a good sort - to assist him with maneuvering Lavinia away from the hordes of men who seemed to surround her this evening under the guise of being nothing more than a worried family member. But no. That was not to be, unfortunately.

  Movement at the far corner of the ballroom caught his eye and he saw the viscount - a tall man with distinctive features and coloring so he was difficult to miss, even in a crowd - was laughing heartily as he partnered with Lady Charlotte Cleary for a dance once again. Frost could not approach either Rayne or Greer for help, for those two men, much to Frost's annoyance were dancing as well - with his sisters of all people. Well, that would end in due time. But not this evening. Tonight was all about Lavinia.

  For a moment, Frost considered approaching Lord Hunt, for the man was about the only other one present that he would trust with such a delicate mission. Heaven only knew where the rest of his friends and associates were at the moment. However when he spotted the near-penniless lord dancing with Aurelia, Frost abandoned that plan just as quickly. He did not wish to spoil this moment when his sister finally appeared happier than she had in a great while. Out of all of his sisters, his greatest soft spot was often for Aurelia.

  Still... What was it about the Tillsbury women that seemed to draw men to them like bees to honey? It wasn't because of their sweet nature. Frost knew because he lived with them and had seen no evidence of their demure nature. Then again, he was their brother. It seemed their mission in life to annoy and antagonize him as much as possible.

  Whatever the reason, however, his sisters were putting a great kink into his plan to sneak off with Lavinia. Not to the house on Gracechurch Street but back to Mayfair. Back home. Where he might finally bed her properly instead of groping her on park grass and other less-than-ideal places. Gads, he truly was a rake of the worst sort.

  What did she even see in him in the first place? At the moment, he really did not know.

  "Looking for someone?" a voice at his elbow asked, and Frost was surprised to find Lord Oliver Saintwood, a future viscount and a man technically still in mourning, standing there.

  Saintwood had disappeared from society after the death of his wife Patience several months ago, as was proper, though he had recently re-emerged, flouting convention more tha
n a bit. Yet somehow, the man had found absolution already from the highest reaches of Society for his breach in etiquette. Then again, few people had truly mourned the death of Lady Patience Saintwood. Even within her own family.

  The woman had been departing her lover's home when her cape had somehow become caught in the wheels of the carriage meant to return her home. The horses had spooked and, Lady Patience had broken her pretty little neck. Not that any one much minded, at least from what Frost knew of the situation. Not even Lord Saintwood, especially as his wife had borne him another man's bastard to raise as his heir.

  Frost was tempted to say no to the man, for he did not know him very well. Still, from his position at the top of the stairs that overlooked the ballroom, it was evident that Frost was searching for someone. No need to add more fuel to the gossip fires that raged around him.

  "Just making certain my family is well," Frost responded as blandly as possible. "I have three young ladies under my care. Four if you count Lady Lavinia." Which he most certainly did.

  Saintwood was quiet for a moment as he watched the dancers swirl below him. "You should go to her, you know."

  "What? Who?" Frost was horrified that this man he did not know could see through him so easily. "Lavinia. Surely not. There is nothing..."

  The other man cut him off, his eyes sad and weary and more than a little lost. "Lord Chillton." He paused and then shook his head. "Frost. I am aware that we do not know each other in more than passing, but please, take a bit of advice from a man who did what was expected of him and suffered greatly for it. If you wish to dance with the lady or court her, by all means, do so. If you love her, then go and be with her. Follow your heart, if that is where it leads you. I, sadly, did not heed such advice. And I regret it to this very day."

  Then Saintwood turned and left, leaving Frost to stare after him curiously. That particular exchange made no sense at all. Lord Saintwood knew nothing of Frost's life. And yet... He spoke with the experience of a man who lived with a broken heart - and likely not one caused by the late and unlamented Lady Patience. Perhaps Saintwood had seen something in Frost that gave away his intentions. If that was the case, then he needed to be more careful. No one could know what he was about. There was far too much to risk if anyone discovered his fascination - some might call it outright obsession - with Lavinia.