Regency for all Seasons: A Regency Romance Collection

by Mary Lancaster

  “What’s going on, Rom?” Tynan asked, frowning. “How can we help?”

  “I need advice.” This was also the Brayden way, the eight of them always ready to help each other out.

  Romulus flinched as James moved from behind his desk and limped toward him. None of them said anything as he carefully lowered himself into the chair beside Romulus, keeping his bad leg outstretched since he couldn’t quite bend it.

  James’s suffering tore at their hearts, but James would only get angry if he caught any of them pitying him. “You need advice on how to handle a woman?”

  He nodded, annoyed the three of them were now grinning at him. But he was ready to take their teasing because he needed answers. “Violet thinks I don’t trust her.”

  James chuckled, but it was one of commiseration, for he’d likely experienced the same when first meeting his wife, Sophie. “Is she right? Do you trust her?”

  “Yes, of course I do. It’s her so-called friends I’m worried about.” He then went on to explain about his gut feeling. “If Forester’s unannounced visit was so urgent, then why did he and his sister run off like scared rabbits the moment they saw me?”

  “Perhaps it was a harmless attempt to court Violet,” Marcus said. “You’re his competition, and you must admit, we Braydens can be quite intimidating.”

  “The man is a snake. There’s nothing noble in his intentions.”

  “But you also just told us Forester approached Violet in Lady Dayne’s garden last night and backed off when she told him to unhand her. Perhaps he’s just inept at courtship, and you’re putting him on edge. The ill feeling you sense may be aimed only at you, Rom.”

  “I hope so. I’ll rip him apart if he sets a hand on Violet.”

  His brother and cousins exchanged amused glances and then responded by chuckling again.

  “What’s so funny?” Romulus rose to pour himself a brandy and offered one to James.

  But James declined. “It warms my heart to see my little tadpole of a brother in love.”

  He offered to refill the glasses of his cousins, but they also declined, their grins still fixed on their faces.

  Romulus sighed. “Hell, James. Stop calling me a tadpole. Do you know what I am to Violet? Her test frog. So, I suppose this tadpole is now grown up. Violet has this book her sister gave her, supposedly a scientific explanation of the sensations of love and how to arouse a man’s desires to–”

  “Blessed saints! What did you just say?” James was smiling so broadly, his face looked about to crack in half. “And her family is allowing her to read this book?”

  He nodded. “She claims it’s scientific and she is testing the theories out on me. Nothing lewd or suggestive. It’s quite interesting, actually. Harmless so far.” He shrugged. “But it is about love, and we all know matters can get out of hand rather quickly. If it does, I know she’ll be safe with me rather than with some other hound.”

  “Or frog,” Marcus teasingly muttered.

  “A hound like Forester?” Tynan remarked.

  He nodded again. “Her entire family knows the depraved workings of my mind when it comes to Violet, especially after the bee incident.”

  James chuckled. “Frog. Hound. Bee. You’re collecting quite a menagerie.”

  Romulus frowned at him. “But how can any man be trusted around her? She’s so beautiful. Warm, generous, smart. She’s also so damn innocent, I can’t help worrying about her.”

  She still had no idea the power she held over him. One look and she set his blood on fire.

  “I hardly spoke to the girl,” James said, “but she did not strike me as silly. Sophie likes her, too. I trust Sophie’s judgment on such matters. Did you ever consider that women may be smarter than us when it comes to matters of the heart?”

  Romulus rubbed a hand across the back of his neck in consternation. “Violet is young and inexperienced. She’d be the first to agree she knows nothing about men. But perhaps she is cleverer about this Forester matter than I am.”

  Marcus nodded. “She did agree to talk to you about her meeting with Forester after it happened. Lara would toss a plate at my head if I dared tell her who she could or could not talk to.”

  “Seems Violet knows how to handle both you and Forester just fine.” James cast him a discerning glance. “I think you ought to do as she asks. Trust her.”

  Marcus and Tynan agreed.

  “Very well, I shall.” But it still left him with a sick feeling in his stomach.

  *

  Violet hoped this afternoon’s tea would pass without incident. Jameson Forester and his sister, Valerie, had accepted the invitation to attend. However, Violet had also invited Romulus and was worried the two men would butt heads again.

  Romulus was the first to arrive.

  She greeted him with a smile, her heart leaping within her chest at the first sight of him, for he looked incredibly handsome. “You will behave for my sake, won’t you?” she asked, her gaze pleading.

  He took her hand in his and bowed over it. “Yes, Violet. My brother boxed my ears and told me not to be an interfering arse. So, I’ll be polite and quietly grind my teeth while Forester and his sister take you aside.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “I will tell you what happens. I don’t mean to keep anything from you, not even if they swear me to secrecy.”

  “Thank you, that puts my mind at ease.”

  When he released her hand, she placed it gently on his arm. “It is important that we trust each other, and just as important to also be willing to share our thoughts and feelings.”

  “Feelings?” He groaned.

  “Yes.” She rolled her eyes and grinned. “This is how we build our intimate bonds. Trust is vital, of course. But so is friendship.”

  “You’re spouting that book again.”

  “And you are showing signs of behaving like a dominant male baboon. I’ve been doing a lot of reading lately. My cousin Lily is presenting a monograph to the Royal Society on the social structure of baboon colonies. The Fellows have not heard it yet, but they’re in high dudgeon and have already got their robes in a twist about it.”

  He gazed at her in amusement. “Isn’t this the Farthingale way?”

  She laughed. “Yes, we never seem to do things quietly. Lily is brilliant. She claims men exhibit the same traits of aggression and possessive territoriality as male baboons. She also claims the baboon colonies are set up quite similarly to our societal order. Of course, the Fellows in the Royal Society are up in arms over her assertion and want her banned from stepping foot in their hallowed halls ever again. But she is right, whether or not they admit it. Do you see how you are tense and gritting your teeth at the mere mention of Lord Forester? This is because you view him as an interloper who is attempting to steal the female you covet. Namely, me. You are angry and intend to chase him out of your territory.”

  Romulus groaned. “Is this what thousands of years of civilization has come to? A book about love and a treatise on the baboon traits of men?”

  Violet overlooked his sarcasm. “I won’t judge the members of your sex too harshly. After all, it seems to be the male low brain function that also brings about our advancements. The homes we live in, the buildings that form a city, the carriages we ride in. The farms that create our food. The fabrics of our clothes.”

  “Women contribute as well,” he remarked.

  She nodded. “Yes, it is a shared effort. But The Book of Love claims it is a woman’s instinct to nest, to maintain a home for her children. We are not the builders, the scientists, or warriors, at least not yet.”

  He placed a finger under her chin and tipped her face up so that their gazes met. “Violet, what are you hoping to find in these books? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you enjoy reading,” he said when she opened her mouth to protest. “But you obviously want to be something more than my wife or the mother to our children. Are you worried that I will hold you back?”

  Although she tried to hide it, he saw t
he uncertainty in her eyes. “I don’t wish to diminish the importance of those roles. Good heavens, we Farthingales are all about family and home. But once we marry, you would be a husband, a father, and a naval commander. So why can I not be a wife, a mother, and something else? My cousin Rose is a talented artist and runs her own business. You probably dine on the plates she designs or take tea in her teacups.”

  “I’m sure my cousin Marcus has had a few thrown at his head,” he said, unable to resist the jest.

  Marcus was a decorated army general, his fame and popularity perhaps on a par with Wellington. But his wife knew just how to keep him in his place. Lara had only tossed a plate at his head the one time, but no one was ever going to let Marcus live it down.

  After all, that’s what loving cousins were for, to tease and torment each other. But they would close ranks and defend each other to the death if an outsider ever threatened any of them.

  “Lily is a brilliant scientist,” Violet continued. “Laurel is one of the finest horse breeders in London. My Oxfordshire cousins, Belle and Honey, help run one of the largest perfumeries in England.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “Honey and Belle aren’t married yet, but the others are. They are good wives and mothers, and dote on their families.”

  “Which brings us back to that something more you wish to be.”

  “Yes, only I don’t know yet what it is. I expect it will involve my voice since it is a good singing voice.” She glanced at him and laughed. “Honestly, Romulus! You are cringing again.”

  “No, I’m not. Never about you.”

  He cast her such a warm, affectionate look, she could not take offense. Although it was obvious he did not like singing. He seemed to be a reasonable man. They would work it out.

  They spoke no more about the matter as other guests began to arrive.

  The house was filled with the scent of currant scones and the lemon, ginger, and apple spice of the assorted cakes elegantly set out on the parlor tables. Mrs. Mayhew and her kitchen staff had been hard at work all morning to prepare the treacle cakes, maids of honor stuffed with apple jam, and other delights on display.

  While Violet helped her Aunt Sophie greet the new arrivals and ensure all was in order for the afternoon tea, Romulus occupied his time speaking with Lady Dayne and later with Lady Withnall. Of course, the room went silent at the first sound of the thuck, thuck, thuck of her cane, for the little harridan instilled fear in everyone present, even those who held no dark secrets.

  Violet was proud of Romulus when he stepped forward to engage her in conversation, showing no fear. Well, there was little to fear now that they had resolved to marry. If Lady Withnall decided to spread word of the bee incident, any scandal would die out as soon as she became Mrs. Brayden.

  Violet Brayden.

  The name sounded nice.

  She thought no more about it when Lord Forester and his sister arrived. “May we speak to you in private?” Jameson asked even before managing a greeting.

  “Please, Violet,” his sister said, glancing around as though worried they might be overheard.

  “Yes, let’s take a turn in the garden.” They walked out of the parlor, and she led them outdoors, smothering a smile when she glanced at the oak tree where the bees had lived, but also where she’d received her very first, blazing kiss. Hopefully, the first of many from Romulus. “What is so urgent that has you both on edge?”

  Jameson regarded her intently. “We need you desperately, Violet.”

  “For the charity event you mentioned?”

  He nodded. “Finances are quite dire at St. Aubrey’s, and the buildings are in greater danger of collapse than we imagined.”

  “We’ve received another missive from the abbess imploring us to raise funds as soon as possible,” his sister said. “You are the only one who can do this for us. Violet, you must do it for the orphans.”

  They continued to walk slowly around the garden, undisturbed by the other guests who had remained inside. Violet suspected Romulus was watching her from the large, parlor window, just as Hortensia had been watching them when they’d plotted their strategy for their kiss.

  “Give me the details,” she said, determined not to commit to anything before speaking to Romulus, her Uncle John, and Aunt Sophie. While she knew she had common sense, she was also inexperienced in such matters and could think of no better three people to look to for guidance.

  “We thought to let a theater for the evening and–”

  “I won’t sing in a theater.” First, she knew her family would never permit it. Nor would Romulus approve, and she couldn’t blame him. “Is there not another more respectable venue available?”

  Lady Rawley’s eyes widened, and she gasped. “Then you’ll do it?”

  “No, Valerie!” She frowned at the pair. “I’m merely stating that I won’t even bring it to my family for their approval unless I am comfortable with your plans. And I am not comfortable with standing on a Covent Garden stage.”

  “Ah, I see.” Jameson cast his sister a glance. “What our Violet is saying is that we ought to be looking for something more elegant. A royal society hall, a museum. Perhaps an elegant London house or garden, although we’d need a tent for the garden in the event of rain. The Duke of Lotheil has a magnificent home in London. Isn’t your cousin married to his grandson?”

  He was referring to Lily.

  “And your own sister is married to the Earl of Welles. I hear his house is also extraordinary.” Valerie smiled at her. “They spend most of their time at his estate in Wellesford now. So what harm is there in allowing you to host the charity affair in their London home? The house is unoccupied presently, is it not? We can bring in our own staff to move their furniture out of the way and set up the main rooms for a night’s recital. Perhaps two nights if the response is brisk.”

  “We’ll have an orchestra and plenty of champagne. After you sing, we shall collect the donations.” Jameson paused suddenly and shook his head. “No, what am I saying? We must have them pay to hear you. A donation fee just to come in the door. This way we keep out the hangers-on and have only the wealthiest attend. We’ll take more pledges from them after you sing. I shall personally take charge of the funds and hold them in safekeeping until we can present the donation to St. Aubrey’s abbess.”

  Valerie took her hand. “What do you say, Violet? Will you ask Lord Welles to give you his townhouse for the evening?”

  “Let me see the letter from the abbess. You said she wrote to you.”

  “Yes, here it is.” Jameson dug into his coat pocket and retrieved a rather crumpled paper. “You may hold onto it, if you wish. Show it to your uncle. I know he and your aunt are familiar with the orphanage.”

  “Thank you, I will.” She tucked it securely in the sleeve of her gown.

  “Let us know tomorrow,” he added. “I hate to rush you, but you’ll understand the need for haste once your read the letter. You have the voice of an angel, Violet. Put it to good use. Perhaps a quick song at today’s tea to whet the appetites of your guests?”

  “Perhaps.” It was not unusual for the family to include a song or two during these tea parties. Often, her cousin Dillie would be coaxed to play the pianoforte and Lily, her twin, would play the harp. Violet would sing, although usually in a duet with Dillie. “I ought to go inside now. Aunt Sophie will be wondering where I’ve disappeared to.”

  They all walked back into the house and went their own way.

  Violet was still uncertain of this venture, but it was for charity, and she did feel better knowing it would take place in a family home, assuming her brother-in-law Nathaniel approved of the use of his townhouse. She could send word and have it reach them within a matter of hours.

  Now eager for the tea party to end so she could quietly read the abbess’s letter and discuss it with her family and Romulus, she settled on the sofa beside Dillie and distractedly nibbled on her ginger cake.

  Dillie nudged her. “If you’re not goi
ng to eat that slice, I’ll take it. You know me, I can never pass up ginger cake.”

  “And you’re eating for two now.” Violet glanced meaningfully at Dillie’s rounded belly. “Have at it, Dillie. I don’t have the appetite.”

  Her cousin frowned lightly. “What’s wrong?”

  “Friends have asked me to sing a few songs at a charity benefit they wish to organize. I just don’t see how it will work. They need to do this quickly and expect me to be the lure to draw the necessary benefactors and their purses. But no one knows of me. I know I can sing, but so what? If Romulus is any indication, the donors will not rush to hear yet another sweet young thing warble a few songs.”

  “Well, why don’t we give it a try here?”

  Violet tipped her head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s slip into the music room. I’ll play while you sing. Let’s see how the guests respond to our impromptu recital. What have you got to lose?”

  “Nothing, I suppose.” She smiled at her cousin. “It will be like old times.”

  Dillie laughed. “Although I doubt anyone will miss Lily’s harp playing. Or should I say, her inability to play. No other person alive is able to evoke the awful sounds she made from those harp strings.”

  “I’m sure she worked it out scientifically, configuring just the right chords to evoke the strongest cringe response.” Violet laughed. “Oh, I do miss her. Jasper and Ewan, too, of course.”

  “They’ll be down from the Highlands by the end of the week. She’s giving her baboon lecture at the Royal Society. Can you believe it? The Fellows are in revolt, but the Duke of Lotheil is chairman, and she is married to his grandson, so he’s set down the law. She will speak, and he expects every Fellow to attend. He’ll take note of those who think to defy him.”

  “I’ll attend,” Violet said with a nod. “She’ll need our support.”

  “I’ll pick you up. Ian will have a fit, no doubt worried that a brawl will break out, and I’ll be in the middle of it.” She sighed. “He knows me too well. No one had better insult my sister, or I will come after them with my bare fists.”