From the Viscount With Love

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  And despite that being precisely what Lavinia wished to hear, at Sarah's words, her heart shattered into a thousand little pieces. And she knew it would never be whole again. But it would not matter, for Frost and his family would be safe. It might come at the cost of her life, but that was a small price to pay in exchange for knowing that the man she loved and the family that she had come to think of as her own would be safe.

  "Perhaps you are right," Lavinia finally managed thickly, doing her best not to allow the tears that were rapidly gathering behind her eyelids to fall.

  To that, Sarah said nothing. Instead, she merely looked straight ahead, head held high. "I believe that Dory has finally decided on a blush-colored dress," acting for all the world as if the previous discussion had not taken place. "None of the other colors suit her complexion and she does wish to look her best at the ball. Still, she can change her mind if she wishes. Nothing is fixed until it is done. And even then, things are usually changeable, even when one believes it is already too late."

  Then Sarah practically drug Lavinia back down the street towards her family, her final statement ringing in Lavinia's ears like a mantra. Perhaps Sarah Tillsbury was far more intelligent than people gave her credit for being. And perhaps there was still time for Lavinia to find a way out of this seemingly-impossible situation and have everything she ever wished for. After all, Sarah had hinted that it was possible. All Lavinia had to do was elude Balon - and stop him from hurting the Tillsbury women. That wasn't so tall an order, was it? Unfortunately, Lavinia was afraid that it was.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Something was greatly upsetting Lavinia this evening. Frost could tell simply by the way she sat stiffly at his side in his phaeton as he drove them to the theater. Did she know that Michel Balon was in town? Lord, he hoped not. Frost had only just discovered the truth himself, and prayed that Lavinia was unaware of the despicable man's presence in London. Yet he had no idea how to ask her if she did know. If he did query her upon the topic, then she would know that he was aware of her past - all of it. That was not a discussion he cared to have in a fully open phaeton in the middle of London. If he did, they would likely all be ruined, including his sisters. He could not allow that.

  And yet Frost could not allow the issue of Balon to rest either.

  The filthy wretch of a Frenchman had dared to show his face at Noroc the previous evening - likely not knowing that the club and gaming hell was partly owned by the Duke of Candlewood - bragging about how he was about to come into an enormous fortune. And perhaps more.

  It was the "perhaps more" part that had alerted several of Noroc's staff to something nefarious possibly being afoot in Town, and they had immediately sent for Harry Greer. In his usual way, the Runner had gleaned enough information from Balon to know that he was planning to bring trouble directly to Frost's door, which had prompted an early morning visit from Harry well before the sun was even up that day. To be fair, Frost had expected the visit, though he had hoped it would be later rather than sooner.

  Still, Michel Balon had to be dealt with and swiftly, at least if Frost had any hope of keeping Lavinia in his life. For he had come to the conclusion that he wished to keep her - if she would have him, that was.

  However, if Lavinia knew Balon was in Town, she would likely run again and Frost doubted he would be able to find her. And the thought of not having her in his life was not an idea he was willing to consider. Therefore, the Frenchman had to be dealt with before he turned Frost's happy world into a turmoil. Or worse.

  As Frost, Rayne, and Harry all now knew, Balon was the man responsible for luring Lady Augusta Tremont, also known as the Countess of Galeton and Lavinia's mother, away from her father's home at Castle Dunlein in Northumberland and taking her young daughter with her. The Frenchman had been working as a footman in the castle for Lavinia's grandfather, the Duke of Annandell, where both Lavinia and her mother were living since Lavinia's father was a drunken wastrel who had gambled away the family's fortunes, leaving them destitute. Still, being the daughter of a duke did have its privileges, and Annandell had offered his daughter and her child shelter while his son-in-law wandered England until he died in a fall off some cliffs near Dover several years later. Frost did not think that Lavinia knew about her father being deceased, for his death had occurred long after both she and her mother had departed Dunlein.

  All but abandoned by her husband, the still-lovely Lady Galeton had grown lonely in the wilds of the north with no callers and no chance to visit London. So when a young and handsome footman with impeccable manners had begun to secretly court her, she hadn't hesitated to follow him wherever he led. Which included directly out the front door of the castle and into a small village in Derbyshire where they might escape Annandell's wrath, for the man and his daughter had never seen eye to eye on anything - from her disastrous marriage to her scandalous liaison with a servant.

  When Balon had eventually turned his eye to Augusta's daughter, Lady Galeton had protested vehemently until a liberal dose of laudanum in her daily tea tray had left her in a perpetually drugged state, unable to fight back on behalf of her only child. With Lady Augusta silenced, Balon had forced a very young and terrified Lavinia to pleasure him, forcing himself into her mouth while he told her of all the things he would do to her once she came of age. If she refused, Balon swore that he would kill Lavinia's mother, and as Augusta was in a permanently drugged state, the girl was intelligent enough to know that Balon would likely both do as he promised and get away with the murderous act.

  So Lavinia had done as commanded until the day before she turned eighteen. Then, she had run away, for once thinking of herself and not of her mother. She had somehow managed to quickly ingratiate herself with the elderly Marquess of Burfield who had paid her well to be his companion as he neared the end of his life. When the marquess finally passed, the man's son had assumed the marquisate - and he assumed he would also take his father's place in Lavinia's bed. So once more Lavinia had run, this time finding herself with the gilded halls of Lycosura. Which was where first Candlewood and then later Frost had found her.

  Now, Balon had returned and according to his bragging ways the previous evening, out to ensnare Lavinia again, this time with an eye towards marriage. For few knew of Lord Galeton's passing, including Balon. Therefore, the Frenchman did not know that Lady Galeton was now free to wed. However, the money Balon had conned out of Lady Galeton over the years was now long gone, the coffers shockingly empty. Balon believed that if he wed one Lady Lavinia Tremont, then the Duke of Annandell would be forced to hand over his granddaughter's sizeable dowry without question. A dowry which was still held in trust by Annandell and therefore untouchable by either Balon or Lady Galeton.

  Once Harry had learned of the plan, he had come straight to Frost that morning so that they might prepare a plan of attack. Harry had even dispatched much of Bow Street to look for Balon throughout the day, but with no success. There was a report that a man matching Balon's description had been seen on Gracechurch Street near the love nest, but no one had been able to confirm it. Still, it seemed clear that the man was in London for one purpose and one purpose only. To force Lavinia to leave Town with him against her will. And given the man's dire financial situation, he was unlikely to be willing to wait very long to kidnap her.

  To Frost, the very thought of a life without Lavinia in it seemed...empty somehow. From the moment she had entered his life, she had quite literally turned everything upside down. She was a part of this family now and he could not picture Chillton House in his mind without her warm presence. Also, to his great surprise, he could not imagine installing her at the Gracechurch Street house where his mistresses had lived either. It simply seemed wrong to him. She deserved better.

  Lavinia deserved...well, everything he had to offer, really. And oddly enough, Frost wished to be the one man to provide her with everything her heart desired as well. In fact, the very idea of another man touching her made him want to hit something. Ha
rd.

  For Lavinia was his. She belonged to him. With him. Beside him. He had been the first and only man to claim her body. He would be the only man to claim her. There would never be another. At least not if he had anything to say about it.

  For the first time in his life, Lord Robert Tillsbury, Viscount Chillton, thought of marriage and did not shudder in fear and loathing. In fact, it rather seemed like a good idea, at least if he was to wed Lavinia. After all, he had to wed at some point. It was his duty. And he could not imagine doing that duty with any woman other than Lavinia. It was her or no one.

  There was, however, the little matter of Balon to deal with before anything else. If the man abducted her... Well, he did not wish to think on that subject overly much.

  Frost had attempted to approach Lavinia about the topic of the Frenchman several times throughout the day, though how he would begin such a conversation he did not know. What he did know was that it was imperative that he speak to her alone. However Lavinia was always in the company of one of his sisters or his mother. Sarah had been positively nasty to him when he had requested a moment alone to speak with Lavinia, which was not like her in the least. Frost had thought that the elder twin, out of all of the Tillsbury sisters, would be the most amenable to his need to speak with Lavinia in private. Especially as he had decided to allow Rayne to accompany Sarah about town, at least until this nasty business with Balon was finished. If there was one man Frost utterly and completely trusted with Sarah's life, it was Rayne.

  It had also been decided amongst the men that Harry would remain with Dory since, given her flighty nature, she was the most likely to be vulnerable to Balon. Lord Hunt, whose marksmanship with both a pistol and a rifle were unrivaled, was to accompany Aurelia, and for once Frost didn't give a damn about how the situation appeared to others in Society. His sisters' very lives were quite possibly at stake and if the gossips thought him a terrible sort for allowing a man some believed to be little more than a fortune hunter within grasping distance of his youngest sister, then so be it. Like Rayne and Harry, Frost trusted Hunt implicitly. Aurelia was safe in his company. Which left Frost free to watch over Lavinia. And that was precisely what he was doing, at least when he was allowed near her.

  None of this should have been necessary, but the Bow Street office had gotten wind of Balon's association with a group of men whose tastes ran towards the innocent for sexual indulgences, and Harry felt it was entirely possible that the man might try to strike at Frost's sisters if he was denied access to Lavinia.

  The Runner had also already sent out a team several days before to track down Lady Galeton, as she had not been seen in public in many years. Not even in Derbyshire. There were fears, reaching Harry's ears via darkly whispered rumors, that Lady Galeton might already be dead. If that was truly the case, Harry did not think that Balon would hesitate to murder anyone who stood between him and Lavinia.

  So the plan was settled and to prevent raising any further suspicion, life was to go on as it had been scheduled. Even though the last thing Frost wished to do was attend another foolish ball or idiotic theater presentation.

  Now, they were all on their way to the damnable theater when all Frost really wanted was shut everyone - from his family to his friends - all up inside his town home and bar the doors to attack. Except that would not end the issue of Balon, for according to Harry, the man was a tenacious sort, and would not give up his pursuit until he either achieved his goal or was thrown in the gaol. Frost preferred the outcome be the latter. Newgate needed new residents at the moment, and Michel Balon would be a perfect fit. At least to Frost's way of thinking.

  Frost had made one more attempt to speak with Lavinia as they left the house that evening, but that had been cut short by his mother who was concerned that the ladies' dresses would be crushed if they all piled into the same carriage. So, in a horrible breach of protocol, she had given the gentlemen accompanying the women to the theater that night permission to escort the ladies in their carriages. After all, she had insisted, all of the vehicles were open and they were to be on the crowded streets of London with the very eyes of Society upon them, watching their every move. What could possibly go amiss?

  Plenty in Frost's opinion, but he kept his mouth shut, instead allowing his mother to organize things to her liking, knowing full well that Harry had other Runners in evening clothes placed in the crowds around the theater and along the route from Chillton House to Drury Lane, including a few outriders that would keep pace with the carriages, virtually unnoticed in the darkness.

  For a brief moment that afternoon, Frost had found the plan elaborate and foolish. Not to mention far too over the top for his liking. Then Harry had reminded them all about another young woman who had fallen prey to Michel Balon shortly after Lavinia had run away. That poor woman's story did not have a happy ending. Harry's eyes had been both angry and solemn and just then, Frost decided that even if he looked the fool, it would be worth it in the end if his family remained safe. That included Lavinia. For somewhere along the way, she had become a true part of his family. There was no more pretending. And while he wasn't precisely certain what to do with that new realization, Frost knew that he wanted the time to figure it all out. To solve the puzzle that was Lavinia Tremont and keep her by his side. He could not do that if Balon took her away from him.

  Now, sitting beside Lavinia in the carriage, Frost was, if not glad precisely that he had taken action, then relived he had at least done something in an attempt to keep those he cared for protected. That included Lavinia, whether she believed it or not. At present, she did not seem to be inclined to believe much of anything. In fact, she appeared much like she had that first night in Lycosura - distant and remote. He prayed she was not considering running away again. His heart could not tolerate it if she did.

  "The play this evening is supposed to be very humorous, or so I am told. It is a farce written by some supposedly brilliant Italian. I hope it does not lose anything in the translation." For the fifth time that night, Frost was attempting to engage Lavinia in some sort of conversation that might lead up to a discussion about Balon.

  "Hmmm. I am certain it will be lovely." Lavinia's voice was as bland as she could possibly make it and though she was sitting beside him under a star-filled sky - London's notorious smoke not being nearly as thick this evening - she seemed hundreds of miles away.

  This was not at all like the woman he knew and had bedded not so very long ago. This woman might look like his Lavinia, but she was not. Something had cut into her very soul and Frost wished that she would confide in him, even a little. He would slay all of her dragons if she would only allow it.

  He had attempted twice to ask her about Balon in a very roundabout way, but she either knew nothing of the Frenchman's presence in London or she refused to speak on the matter. Frost prayed it was the former this time. If Balon had already gotten to her, there was no telling what sort of lies he had told or threats he had made. If only he had been able to speak with her earlier, then all of this could have been avoided! He had half a mind to simply pull her into the nearest unoccupied box when the reached the safety and privacy of the theater and have it out with her. Or kiss her senseless. Whatever seemed the best option at the time.

  In fact, now that Frost thought upon the issue some more, the plan, such as it was, seemed like a good one.

  The Marquess of Brackleigh, a shy and retiring young man, had already departed Town for the Season. His box would likely be empty, and it was directly on the way to Frost's own theater box. It would be perfect. If he could hold his impatience that long, of course.

  "Speaking of lovely," Frost tried again, fighting the urge to grit his teeth in frustration, "you are breathtaking this evening, Lea. The light blue of your gown does marvelous things to your complexion." This time she smiled at him, but it was a sad sort of smile and he didn't much care for it any more than he had the first three wan smiles she had graced him with earlier.

  "Thank you, Robert."
Lavinia's voice was soft, with an undercurrent of melancholy and he wanted to simply give the horses their head and sweep her away to the darkness of the London streets where they could finally be alone. And he could kiss a confession out of her. He had learned last evening that she was particularly susceptible to that sort of persuasion.

  Frost was about to suggest that they simply forget the theater, that no one would notice they were gone - even though he knew Rayne and Harry would and would also likely send Runners out after them if they did not appear by the appointed time - when the line of carriages moved forward again. Now they were in front of the theater steps, a uniformed footman already offering his hand to Lavinia as another man came to take the reins from Frost's fingers.

  So he disembarked as was proper and came around so that he could escort Lavinia up the marble steps to the front entrance that loomed above them in a way that, for some reason, gave Frost the chills. He did not like the feel of this night in the least.

  As he was about to offer Lavinia his arm, Frost heard a scuffle break out at the bottom of the stairs, near the street where other carriages still waited. A vagrant of some sort was accosting the footmen assisting ladies out of their carriages. The men were putting up a good fight but the other man seemed possessed.

  Vagrants were not uncommon on the streets of Town, unfortunately, and in fact were becoming more and more numerous as the years passed. One did not typically see them this close to Mayfair, but then much of Society was changing right before Frost's eyes. If this man was inebriated or worse, then it was no wonder that he was in an area he ought not to be. He might even be dangerous. Frost felt it was his duty in intervene and lend assistance if he could. It was nothing more than a proper gentleman should do.