From the Viscount With Love

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  Sabine had done Lavinia's hair once more, and now it was pinned up in a riot of curls with one single blonde curl coming down to lay enticingly against her breast. Her hair was shot through with strands of sapphires and she wore another strand of sapphires mixed with diamonds around her neck. Matching earbobs had appeared in her room at some point when she was not looking and now, she fingered one anxiously, doing her best not to fidget.

  Lavinia had thought she might see Claxton at the bottom of the stairs. Though she knew the way to the ballroom easily enough, she had rather hoped that someone might announce her and arriving on the arm of the butler was far better than arriving with no escort at all. She was about to go in search of someone when, as if simply by wishing for him, Frost appeared from around the corner.

  Dressed all in black, he looked magnificent with his striking white evening shirt and snowy cravat set off brilliantly against his darker skin. The only hint of color was the sapphire stickpin that decorated his neck cloth, and for some reason, Lavinia was absurdly pleased that he had gone to the trouble to match her jewels. Perhaps, at some point in the future, there was hope for them after all.

  "You look beautiful, Lavinia." There was so much admiration in Frost's voice that Lavinia smiled in spite of her nervous stomach.

  "Thank you." She felt a blush creep up her cheeks, though she had no idea why. After all, she had been naked with this man. There was little room for secrets between them. "You look very handsome yourself."

  He looked at her compassionately, as if reading her mind. "A bit nervous are you?"

  "A bit," she confessed quietly. "I should not be, I know, but I find that I cannot help it. They know who I am. All of them. That is not something that I ever really imagined."

  Frost offered her his arm, which she took without hesitation. "I am not surprised really. After all, tonight you will be presented to all of the ton as you truly are. After this, you can no longer hide in the shadows." He paused for a moment. "Is that what you truly want, Lavinia? To go back into hiding? You can tell me if it is. I know we have not spoken much in recent days, but you can still trust me. Tell me now if that is what you desire, and I will make all of this go away."

  He had no idea how he would accomplish such a thing, but if that was what she wished, he would do so.

  Instead Lavinia shook her head. "No. I wish to do this. Well, perhaps not wish to do so, but I know that I must. I know the risks, know that someone might recognize me, but I also know that I can no longer hide. Not if I am to eventually seize what I truly want from life."

  They took two steps together before he stopped once more. "And what is it you want, Lavinia?"

  Here was another moment that Lavinia knew she could lie or at the very least prevaricate. But she had come so far. She could not do that to this man who was so very dear to her. She would not hurt him again by not trusting him with the truth. "You," she admitted quietly. "I want you, Robert. And only you. That has not changed. Nor will it."

  She thought he might exclaim in joy but instead, he only smiled. "That is very good to hear, Lavinia." He tugged on her hand. "Now, let us go to your ball."

  She wanted to protest, to drag him back to his chambers and beg him to take her. To strip off this gown and with her naked body, beg him to love her again. To love her as she loved him. She wanted him and only him. Why did he no longer desire her? What had she done to kill that love? She wanted to fall to her knees and ask, but she did not have the chance.

  Instead, he led her to the family's ballroom and she was so stunned by what she saw that she gasped at the transformation, momentarily forgetting everything else.

  Gone were the gold and white walls and in their place was a tropical paradise that resembled a woodcut she had once seen of the Caribbean. Hothouse flowers decorated nearly every surface and the somehow the walls had been covered in a lush, green menagerie of exotic plants and greens with some actual trees mixed in as well. The frescoed ceiling was now covered in some sort of what looked like cotton batting that had been dyed various shades of blue that exactly matched her gown. Silver stars that echoed the beading on her dress had been woven in here and there, so that the light of the enormous chandelier high above them made the stars appear to flicker and wink like the actual heavens.

  It was magical. It was wonderful. And it was perfect. And when she turned to Frost, intent upon exclaiming over the beauty of the setting, she found that he was smiling at her in that peculiar way of his and she could not speak. She was far too overwhelmed by love.

  It was likely just as well. Before Lavinia could say a word, Frost had her through the door and waiting on his arm at the top of the stairs to be announced. She was so nervous that she thought she might swoon, but she did not. Though she suspected that it was only due to the strength of the man beside her that she did not collapse in utter fear.

  Later on that night, she realized that she should not have worried. About anything. Including Frost's enduring love for her.

  The next hour or so passed in a blur, so much so that Lavinia did not have time to think, let alone allow the heartbreak of Frost's words - or rather lack of them - to sink in. Instead, she was presented to carefully selected members of Society with great fanfare, her story - now being told as a rather tragic one that bore not even a hint of scandal - being whispered over and over across the ballroom so many times and with such sincerity that Lavinia herself almost believed it.

  She danced the opening dance with her grandfather while Frost led Lady Galeton out for the set. Before she could even so much as protest, Lavinia's dance card was filled and men swained around her, clamoring for her attention. She was the belle of the ball and the feeling was both heady and exhausting at the same time. It would have been the perfect evening. The only thing missing was Frost. As he had been for the last few days, he was a ghost and she only glimpsed him from time to time in the crowd, usually when she was on the arm of another man.

  Lavinia did not like this. Not one bit. In fact, she was about to excuse herself and go track down the man still haunting her thoughts when her dance partner - Lord Hunt at the moment - expertly guided her to the edge of the ballroom where her mother, grandfather, Lady Chillton and Frost's sisters, and their escorts for the evening, all waited. Much to Lavinia's chagrin, there was no sign of Frost.

  Lady Chillton could obviously tell that Lavinia was restless for she placed a comforting yet stilling hand on her arm. "A little patience at this moment might go a long way, my dear."

  So rather than argue, Lavinia took her place in the rather crowded corner and waited with the rest of them, Lord Hunt having returned almost immediately to Aurelia's side. Though Lavinia did not do so patiently. However, her decision was rewarded a few moments later when the music ended and the ballroom floor cleared as if on command. And there, on the other side, and looking directly at her, was Frost.

  With his usual commanding presence, he crossed the dance floor in few strides until he was standing directly before Lavinia and her heart caught in her throat. When he silently offered her his arm, she took it without hesitation. Wherever he led, she would follow. Soon, she found herself in the middle of the ballroom, the press of everyone's eyes on her and a bit of fear streaked up her spine.

  Frost must have noticed her reaction for he smiled gently. "Look at me, Lavinia. Only me. I will not let you come to harm. I promise. Do you trust me?"

  She nodded, placing her trust, along with her heart, in his capable hands once more. He hadn't let her down yet. She had to believe that he never would.

  When Frost seemed satisfied that he had her full attention, he turned her to face him so that he might grasp her hands in his. "Lady Lavinia Tremont, ours has been far from a normal courtship. If you even wish to call it that. Though I do, for from the moment I first laid eyes upon you, I knew that you would change my life."

  "It has been that and more," she agreed, not quite knowing where this was leading but hoping certainly. "But I would not change a moment of it. Not fo
r anything."

  "Nor I," he replied. "And I while I know that I should allow you to explore the full world of Society now that you have reclaimed your proper place, I find that I cannot bring myself to let you go." He grinned now and Lavinia's heart soared. "I am a rake after all, and rakes do not like to give up what they consider theirs."

  Now, suddenly, Lavinia's heart felt light and full of hope as well. "And am I yours? For you, Robert, are mine. And always will be." It was a bit of an audacious thing to say, but then, she was far from a typical Society female.

  "You are mine, Lavinia," he sighed with a smile of his own. "You have been from that very first moment, I think. I did not want you to be, for the idea of caring for someone else, loving someone else, terrified me. Yet you did love me, for some inexplicable reason. Perhaps you are addled in the head?"

  She smiled at his teasing tone. "Perhaps I am at that. For I do love you, Robert. And, like you, I believe I have from the very first."

  Then, Frost was falling to one knee before her and suddenly, Lavinia's world went a bit sideways. "I love you, Lavinia Tremont. And though I know this is not exactly proper, remember that it is you who once called me a paradox. So in that spirit, I would like it ever so much if you would consent to be my wife." Then he shook his head. "No, I take that back. I would love it if you became my wife."

  Heedless of the watching eyes, Lavinia fell to her knees and cupped Frost's face in her hands. She would adore waking up every morning for the rest of her life to this man who was neither truly rake nor truly proper but someplace oddly in between.

  "Yes, Robert. Yes. I will marry you. I love you." Lavinia thought she might be crying, for her cheeks felt a bit damp, but she did not care. This was the dream that she believed had died the day her mother had taken her from Castle Dunlein. The dream of a husband and a home and a family of her own. Yet now, that dream had been given back to her. And she was not about to let it go for a single moment.

  "I love you, Lavinia," Frost whispered as he drew her back to her feet and took her in his arms as the first strains of a waltz began. "Now and forever." Then he swept her onto the dance floor where other couples quickly joined in with them.

  As she looked up into the silvery eyes of the man she had so quickly come to love, Lavinia wondered how she could be so lucky as to receive a second chance at love and happiness. She did not know. But she did know that she would never, ever take it for granted.

  Epilogue

  Late July 1820

  Seldon Park

  Sussex

  "Do you think I really annoyed Candlewood last night?" As the early morning sun crept over the well-manicured back lawn of Seldon Park, Frost could not help but press a kiss to his lovely wife's neck. "I mean we are rather 'sickeningly in love,' to quote the Emperor."

  "I cannot believe that his wife calls him that in public." Lavinia had only known Frost's friends for a short period of time, but she did not know if she would ever grow accustomed to the way they teased each other mercilessly. Or the awful nicknames they gave each other.

  She also did not know how she would ever look the man in the eye, especially considering their brief times together at Lycosura. However the duke had pulled Lavinia aside when she had first arrived for the house party and assured her that he could put the past behind him if she could. What choice did she have but to agree? Especially as she did not want to upset her husband who didn't wish to discuss the topic at all. Not that she could blame him. Frost might understand, but that did not mean he had to like what his wife had once done with his good friend Candlewood.

  "At his heart, Nicholas Rosemont has a great soft spot for those he considers his family." Frost traced the slope of Lavinia's bare breast before toying with her nipple.

  "And I suppose he would be just as forgiving if he knew that we had made love on his lawn?"

  Frost shrugged, not really caring overly much. "I will allow that it might be for the best that he does not catch word of our little morning adventure."

  "Given who the man is, I think he likely already knows." She snorted and yawned. Her husband was insatiable, really. "In fact we will be lucky if the entire house party does not know by breakfast."

  Lavinia had been incredulous when Frost had roused her with passionate kisses early that morning and then requested that she come away from the bed so that they might make love on Seldon Park's sweeping back lawn where they might watch the sun come up in the east.

  The very same place where they might also well be seen by other guests at the house party. Not that Frost had particularly seemed to care about that possibility. Then again, he did have a reputation as a scoundrel to live up to, after all.

  Not that Frost was much of a scoundrel any longer, either. At least not since he and Lavinia had wed in a small ceremony in Frost's drawing room the morning after the grand ball in her honor. Before he proposed, Frost had the good sense to procure a special license so that they would not have to be separated for any longer than was necessary. Lavinia felt that was very forward thinking of her new husband, even if her grandfather had not much appreciated the gesture.

  To placate the duke, another, far grander ceremony was planned for late August at Castle Dunlein before Lavinia and Frost ventured on to his country estate of Hallowby Grange where yet another ceremony was planned. Frost's mother was not to be outdone by a duke, she had informed the couple tartly. After all, Lavinia was to be the mother of the next Viscount Chillton and that honor required a proper celebration.

  Frost had allowed both his mother and Lavinia's grandfather to go about their plans, knowing that there was no way he could stop them even if he had wanted to. And he didn't particularly. Rather, he wished to celebrate his union with Lavinia, all but shouting from the rooftops that she was his and that any scandalous talk - for there was some, as not even Madame C could quell it all - did not bother him in the least. Lavinia was his wife. His choice of a bride. And that was that.

  And, of course, a little backing from The Bloody Duke of Candlewood did not go amiss either.

  That was part of the reason why Frost had accepted the invitation to the summer house party at Seldon Park. Oh, he wanted to see his friends and the reappearance of Lady Diana Saintwood, along with her new husband Lord Lachlan McKenna, the current Marquess of Hallstone, was certainly not an event to be missed. But Frost also knew that there were possibly difficult days ahead. For there were people who thought they recognized Lavinia as Ianthe, even though nothing could be proven and Madame Desponia was not speaking on the subject, having been paid off rather handsomely by Annandell for her silence. So having the support of one Lord Nicholas Rosemont would go quite a bit towards quelling the rumors.

  Not that Frost would have changed a single thing. He had never imagined he might marry for love, but he had. And knowing that, he would choose Lavinia every single time as his wife. He could imagine no other woman for his viscountess.

  "Are you truly displeased with my creativeness this morning?" Frost asked, his brows quirked and a not-so-innocent smile on his face. "For I believe I distinctly remember you claiming otherwise not so very long ago. Something about me being a god perhaps?"

  Lavinia laughed. Frost's humor was but one of the many things she loved about him. And would not trade for all of the world. "I should not think one compliment would go to your head so quickly, my lord."

  Without warning, Frost seized Lavinia by the shoulders and eased her back down to the grass. "Just one? I believe, my lady, that your memory is faulty."

  "It is not." She tried not to gasp in pleasure as he pressed a kiss to her most intimate of areas.

  "Hmmm," Frost replied, his eyes dancing with mirth. "I suppose we shall see, Lady Chillton. I suppose we shall see."

  And so they did until the sun was fully in the sky and the dawn broke completely on a new day. The next step in the rest of their lives together.

  Coming Soon

  Lord Brook Bexley, the current Earl of Raynecourt, is known by many names. To hi
s mother, he is Brook, a name he rather wishes he might never hear again. To his friends, he is simply Rayne. And to the women of the ton, he is known as the Earl of Heartbreak for obvious reasons. However, there is one woman who also refers to him as the greatest annoyance in her life. Unfortunately, she is also the only woman he has ever desired. Even though she is most decidedly off-limits to a man like him. After all, gentlemen do not even remotely consider touching a friend's sister. Especially a best friend's oldest sister.

  Lady Sarah Tillsbury has known the Earl of Raynecourt nearly all of her life - and believed him to be the most handsome man she has ever seen for about the same length of time. Except that even she knows that a man like Rayne is forbidden to her. Even if he was not more family to her than potential husband, he is also known for the trail of broken hearts he has left littered across much of polite society. Not even her rather forgiving family would tolerate that.

  Is there more to Lord Raynecourt than Society sees? And will Sarah ever convince her overly protective family that perhaps her old friend Rayne can become suitable husband material? Find out in The Earl of Heartbreak, coming Spring 2016!

  Did you enjoy this book?

  Then be certain to visit Bethany's web page at: www.bethanysefchick.com