Lavinia and the Laird
Bluestocking Brides
SAMANTHA HOLT
Copyright © 2018 Samantha Holt
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter One
Lavinia tapped lightly on the closed door and listened. Nothing. Although, it was hard to tell if there was any sign of movement behind the door with the commotion about her. Downstairs, her sister Emma was at the piano, treating the unfortunate instrument rather poorly.
The thud of footsteps on the stairs followed by Julia loudly protesting the need to get changed told her that their sister had finally persuaded her to come in from the garden.
She even heard Mama complaining to the housekeeper, Mrs. Holmes, about how horribly unorganized they all were.
Lavinia glanced down at her perfectly pressed gown and touched a hand to her hair. All still in place. Only she and Amelia had managed to rise early and ensure they were set for the day. Really, they should have known their three other sisters would have little interest in helping out.
She rapped her knuckles on the door again, a little louder this time. A groan echoed from inside the room. “Catherine?” Lavinia called. “You need to get up.”
Another groan.
Lavinia shook her head to herself and eased open the door. The curtains were still drawn and the only sign of her sister was a lump under the bedding. “Catherine?” she whispered to the bump.
A little ripple of movement shifted the sheets, followed by a grunt. Lavinia let her lips curve. Catherine had likely snuck out again last night to watch the stars. The youngest Chadwick sister had been obsessed with stars for such a long time and yet never tired of spending all night watching them, then all day sleeping.
At least until she was roused. Which Lavinia did not particularly want to do. Why could Amelia have not been the one tasked with waking her? She was the oldest after all.
Approaching the bed, she paused at the sound of her mother’s voice reaching up through the rafters. On second thought, perhaps she had the better end of the deal. Even Catherine was easier to deal with than their mother when she was in what Lavinia liked to think of as ‘husband hunting’ mode.
A mode she knew all too well. Only Lavinia was expected to make an effort for the men who would be visiting their insignificant village today. As usual.
“Catherine,” she tried again, stepping to her sister’s bedside.
The room was a mess of bonnets, clothes, and books. One or two were even written by Amelia, who penned books under a penname. Lavinia straightened those that were on the table at Catherine’s bedside, slapping the cover shut on one.
“Stop!” The sheets moved and a bedraggled head peered out.
Redheaded and freckled like all Lavinia’s sisters, Catherine’s scowling face stood out against the plain white sheets. Lavinia attempted a smile but Catherine was having none of it. Her brow furrowed deeper.
“Leave me alone, Lavinia, I am tired and in no mood for dealing with Mama.” Catherine tried to tug the sheet back over her head, but Lavinia snatched it from her and held it away from her reach.
“We have a busy day ahead. And you do not have to deal with Mama,” Lavinia reminded her. “It will be me who will have to tolerate the majority of her fussing.”
“Serves you right for being born beautiful.” Catherine stuck her tongue out and grabbed her pillow, burrowing her head under it and pinning it down with both hands.
Lavinia smiled and let out a dramatic sigh. It was hard to stay annoyed at Catherine, even when on the end of her rather quick tongue. Unfortunately, Catherine was right. If Lavinia had been born with red hair and freckles rather than golden hair, flawless skin, and a fashionably curved figure, their mother would not believe she had a hope of getting a good match.
Taking after their mother, rather than their father in looks like the rest of her sisters had caused many a problem and most of them revolved around their mother believing Lavinia must be destined to marry someone rich and powerful.
Sinking down onto the side of the bed, Lavinia scooted over and laid down, lifting the edge of the pillow and facing her sister. Catherine made a sound of annoyance and rotated her head away, flinging her wild curls into Lavinia’s face.
Lavinia batted them away and wrapped an arm around Catherine’s shoulders, drawing close to embrace her sister. She felt her sister’s body soften. Despite there being quite a few years between them, Lavinia had always been able to manage Catherine more easily than her other sisters could, especially Julia whose sharp tongue meant they frequently clashed.
“Catherine,” she cooed. “Please get up. I need your help today.”
“I do not see why,” her sister grumbled.
“Who else will help me keep my sanity when entertaining all the dry old sticks coming up from London to see the famous H.W. Bentley?”
“I don’t even see what the fuss is.” Catherine rolled over to face Lavinia whilst still buried under the pillow. “We already have an author in our midst.”
“Yes, of whom no one knows anything. And never will. Amelia would be scandalized if anyone found out about her writing.”
Catherine lifted her head and placed it on top of the pillow. “She’s a far better writer than this Bentley man. Did you read his last book? I fell asleep not even halfway through. He took about five pages to describe one field!”
Lavinia chuckled. It was true. The author’s writing did nothing for Lavinia but it was popular amongst many people and he had set his tale of tragedy and love in their village so she felt obliged to read it. His descriptions of their community were not wrong but the man had a long-winded way of going about it.
“I don’t disagree. But having him visit is a privilege and lots of people will want to hear what he has to say. We shall have many important visitors here and we’ve been tasked with helping show him around.”
Catherine wrinkled her nose. “I do not see why we have to do anything. The man can show himself around surely? After all, he wrote about the blasted place. He must know it better than us.”
“He does not. He only wrote about what he thought the place was like from maps and descriptions. Now he wants to see it for himself.”
“Mama should never have volunteered us.”
Lavinia could not help but agree. However, their mother could only think of what a good opportunity it would be for Lavinia to meet more men before her next season. Lavinia would rather wait until her season or maybe not meet men at all. It was not that she did not like men, but she did not enjoy the pretension that came with the marriage mart. If she was to marry someone, could she not meet him naturally? And allow herself time to fall in love?
Not according to her mother.
Lavinia gave her sister’s arm a little nudge. “Come, we shall be late. Mr. Bentley is due to arrive any moment now and we promised we would go to Nicholas’ house to be part of the greeting party.”
“I am certain Nicholas can take care of it all hi
mself. He is a viscount after all. Surely he is used to entertaining without the need for our help?” Despite her words, Catherine rose to sitting and shoved her hair from her face.
Lavinia slid off the bed and straightened her skirts with a quick glance in the mirror on the wall to check her hair. All still well.
“I am certain Nicholas needs no help, but Mama volunteered us and Nicholas is a friend. It would be rude not to turn up.”
Catherine scrunched up her face. “I do not much mind being rude. It rather beats being bullied into doing things one does not want to do.”
Plucking a hairbrush from the vanity table, Lavinia tossed it to her sister who caught it with ease. “Get your hair brushed. You look like a haystack. And hurry up. You know we cannot be late.”
“No. I know you cannot be late. You loathe it. I, on the other hand, do not care one jot. But Miss Lavinia Chadwick is perfect and must always be on time.” Catherine gave the brush a vicious tug through her hair, making Lavinia wince.
The words made her wince too. She held back a sigh. One of the main reasons she had become involved in this was because of her reputation for being polite and lovely and charming. The entire village was practically in agreement that no one was better for showing the author around than Miss Lavinia Chadwick.
Lavinia eyed her sister. “Do you promise not to return to bed?”
Catherine’s eyes narrowed. “I am up, am I not?”
“Yes, but that does not mean much.” Given the chance, Catherine would slip back under the covers and fall asleep again, making them all late. And they still had to round up Julia and persuade Emma to stop playing the piano.
If what was currently happening could be considered playing.
“I am getting up,” Catherine promised, giving her hair another vicious tug. “I shall be dressed and ready, I promise. Though I cannot promise to be downstairs a minute before we are due to leave. Not if Emma is playing again and Mama is nagging.”
Lavinia grinned. “No different to any other morning then.”
“I wish Emma would give up the piano. At least when she tried sketching, she was quiet.”
“She shall give it up soon enough,” Lavinia assured her. “If we’re lucky, her next hobby shall be a peaceful one.” There was a thud of footsteps outside the room. “I had better see if Julia is ready. Amelia has her hands full with Mama.”
Catherine waved a hand. “Yes, go. Go nag her instead.”
“I love you, Catherine,” Lavinia said in a sing songy voice.
“I love you too,” her sister grumbled.
Lavinia left Catherine’s room to follow the sound of footsteps to Julia’s bedroom. She tapped on the door and eased it open at the sound of a muffled ‘what is it?’
Julia stood in front of the wash basin, cleaning grimy hands and arms. Her gown was not one of her best and was streaked with dirt. A long length of grass had somehow entwined itself in her red hair.
Lavinia shook her head. “Julia, we are meant to be at Nicholas’ in an hour!”
Julia shot her a look. “I bet Catherine is not even awake.”
“She is, and she is practically ready. You are the only one who is not.”
“I will be fine. It will only take me a little while to get ready.” Julia dropped a cloth in the water and scrubbed her face and neck. “Besides, who cares what I look like? All eyes shall be on you.”
“All eyes shall be on Mr. Bentley.”
Julia’s lips quirked. “And you. At least according to Mama. Anyone would think all these visitors were here just for you.”
“Do not remind me.”
Julia peered at her. “You shall find a handsome man, I am certain of it. And then you shall leave us and what shall we all do? Mama will only be left with ugly, scrawny, redheaded daughters.”
“You are all beautiful and you know it.”
Julia shrugged. “I hardly care, but no one would be interested in this freckled face when they could look at your lovely one, and I do not much blame them.”
“Well, perhaps if your freckled face was not covered in dirt most of the time, people would wish to look at you more,” Lavinia suggested with a smile.
“I know who will be looking at you today.” Julia strode across the room and twisted, motioning behind her. “Undo my apron will you.”
“As I said, everyone will be looking at Mr. Bentley. He’s the only famous person to ever set foot in our village.” Lavinia tugged at the knot.
“Do not pretend to be a fool. We all know you are far more clever than anyone realizes.”
“I have little idea what you mean.” Lavinia aided her sister with removing the apron and hung it over the back of a chair.
“Many will be looking at you, but most especially Nicholas.” Julia’s eyes glinted with amusement.
Lavinia peered at the open door. “Even if he did,” she murmured, “I am not interested in him.”
Julia’s lips twisted. “Especially when Amelia has a never-ending infatuation with him.” She lifted her shoulders. “At least Mama is not pushing you into marrying him.”
Lavinia rolled her eyes. “No, apparently a viscount is not good enough for me. She seems to think a duke is going to miraculously appear in the village and snap me up. But even if a viscount was ‘good enough for me’, I would not have him. It could break Amelia’s heart, not to mention I’m convinced we would not be a good match.”
“Did I hear my name?” Amelia appeared in the doorway, as pressed and as ready as Lavinia was. Amelia always tended to be organized which was a relief for Lavinia. At least she had one responsible sister.
Amelia’s gaze fell on Julia. “Oh are you still not ready? We need to hurry.”
“I know, I know.” Julia gave Lavinia a shove out of her room. “But I cannot change with you all standing around, gawping as though you have never seen me dirty before.”
Lavinia stepped out of the room. “Be sure to change with haste.”
Julia looked to the ceiling. “I will.” She huffed. “You two are worse than Mama.”
With that, Julia slammed the door. Lavinia turned to face Amelia. “Is Emma ready?”
“If we can ever pry her away from the piano, yes.”
The sound of stilted piano music caught Lavinia’s attention again. “Maybe she will get better.”
Amelia shook her head. “She will tire of it before she does. Although, you could try teaching her.”
Lavinia made a face. “Unfortunately, I think Emma is beyond my help.”
Amelia giggled. “I am afraid you are right. If only Emma had been born with your talents. You are good at everything. Though, I am certain Emma will find something she is good at one day.”
“In the meantime, we have to tolerate whatever hobby comes next.”
Amelia nodded. “And try to prevent Catherine and Julia from being rude about it.”
“Not an easy task. How is Mama?”
“Oh, you know Mama. Fretting that all of her daughters are never going to get married because we’re all so hideous. With the exception of you, of course.”
Lavinia grimaced. She wished their mother was not quite so blunt with her annoyance at having daughters that looked like their father even though her sisters all seemed to take it in their stride. It did make her feel uncomfortable, however, for being the only exception. There had been many a day when she had wished she was red and interesting like her sisters, when she was younger.
“I suppose I had better take my turn at trying to reassure her. And I shall see if I can pry Emma away from the piano.”
Amelia grinned. “Good luck. You shall need it.”
Lavinia headed downstairs. She found her mother in the favored drawing room, a powder blue room that Papa rarely stepped foot in. Their house was modest compared to many but they lived comfortably with the aid of a housekeeper and a cook.
In one corner, Emma sat at the piano, her brow furrowed while she peered at the music in front of her. Lavinia had to force herself not t
o wince as Emma haltingly tried to follow the music.
“Is everyone ready?” Mama asked, waving a fan in front of her face. “I do not know what I did to deserve such disobedient daughters.”
“We are all ready,” Lavinia assured and sank down onto the chair opposite the chaise on which her mother was spread.
“If we are late, it shall look terrible. Lord Uxbridge will not be impressed.”
“The viscount shall not mind one jot. He is a good friend to us and well used to our...ways.”
Nicholas had known them all since they were younger and never once complained about the Chadwick sisters’ inability to be on time. Of course, if it was left up to her and Amelia, they would be fine, but the others were always too preoccupied with their interests to care much about social niceties.
“We cannot let you miss a single moment,” Mama insisted, sitting up and pushing a pale strand of hair from her face. “There will be so many important men descending on their village. What a boon it would be if you were to receive an offer before the season even started.” Her mother’s face lit with excitement at the idea.
“I am certain no one shall be thinking of making offers when they are all here for Mr. Bentley.”
“Nonsense.” Mama waved her fan at Lavinia. “All eligible men are thinking of making offers and more so when they see your loveliness.”
Why her mother was so convinced that every man should wish to fall at her feet, she did not know. It was not as though she had not been exposed to men in her life. The only one who had paid any real interest was Nicholas but even if there wasn’t the issue of Amelia liking him, Lavinia knew they would not make a good match. Something had always itched at her gut, telling her they would bore each other to death somehow, as much as she was fond of him.
She didn’t say as much to her mother. There was no point. The easiest thing to do was smile and nod, as she always did. Today would be no different.
Chapter Two
Niall winced and shuffled sideways a little. Hopefully that would cover the mark on the chaise. He forced his concentration back to the tiny cup in his hand and took a long gulp before anyone could notice him struggling. Whoever made these cups had never considered they might be in the hands of a Scotsman who was more at home herding cows than holding delicate china that felt like it could snap under the tiniest pressure.
Lavinia and the Laird (Bluestocking Brides Book 0) Page 1