The Scoundrel in Her Bed

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The Scoundrel in Her Bed Page 31

by Lorraine Heath


  She did as he bade.

  “Open them.”

  When she did, all she could see was his beloved face, his eyes searching hers.

  “You need look no further than this, Vivi. I have loved you from the moment you punched my arm in the stables. I thought I could love you no more than I did, until today when you sacrificed your heart for our little girl.” Taking her hand, he lowered himself to one knee. “I don’t know if the Fates will be kind enough to let me give you another, but I’ll certainly try. Marry me, Vivi.”

  With her free hand, she brushed the hair back from his brow. “I promised to marry you long ago, Finn. I’m still bound to that vow. You’ve held my heart since you promised to sing a sweet lullaby to my horse. All you have to do is take me to the church.”

  Chapter 26

  Three weeks later, they married on a Tuesday in a small church with far less pomp and circumstance than she was accustomed, but one far better suited to her new station in life, with only those they considered family gathered around them. Mick and Lady Aslyn, Gillie and Thornley, Aiden, Beast, Fancy, and their mum, Ettie Trewlove. Her brother and his wife joined them. She didn’t send word to her mother. She planned to never contact the hateful woman again.

  Although Neville did report to her that when her article ran in the London Gazette the previous week, their mother had a near apoplectic fit because the piece had reflected Lady Lavinia Kent, sister to the Earl of Collinsworth, as the author. That the ton now knew her daughter was intimate with the worst areas of London brought her shame. Neville, however, had applauded her efforts and had assured her that he would be representing her cause in Parliament. In addition, she’d been paid a modest sum for the article and the editor had indicated he’d be receptive to receiving more of her work.

  After the wedding ceremony, once she and Finn signed the wedding registry, they traveled in a caravan of fine coaches to Coventry House—the London home to the Duke and Duchess of Thornley—where the solicitor, Mr. Beckwith, awaited them in the duke’s library, with a small stack of papers before him.

  “The papers for the trust that holds Wood’s End to serve as a dowry,” he announced, separating them from the others and turning to a page at the back. “Lord Collinsworth, if you will sign here that the terms have been met . . .”

  Neville did so with a great deal of flourish.

  “Mr. Trewlove, if you will be so kind to serve as witness.”

  Mick scrawled his name in the proper place.

  After taking back the papers, Mr. Beckwith signed them, set them aside, and picked up others. “The deed to the land, Mr. Trewlove.”

  Finn took it and promptly passed it off to Thornley.

  “Thorne is working on legislation so women won’t have to give up their property when they marry,” Gillie announced. “It is not at all fair that we are treated as though we are too frail to handle such matters.”

  Lavinia couldn’t help but smile. Her newly acquired sister-by-marriage was anything but frail.

  “I’m afraid it’s not going to happen as soon as my wife would like,” Thorne said. “But I shall not rest until it does happen.”

  Gillie gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

  “I will need you gentlemen to place your signatures here and here to indicate the land now belongs to the Duke of Thornley.”

  More signing, more witnessing. Then Thornley handed a bank draft over to Finn.

  “The agreed-upon amount,” the duke said.

  With a smile and a wink, Finn showed it to her, then tucked it into his jacket pocket. “We appreciate it, Your Grace.”

  Beckwith stood and began stuffing everything into his satchel. “I believe that does it, gentlemen.” He inclined his head toward her. “And, ladies. It has been a pleasure to sort this all out to your satisfaction. Do call upon me if I can be of further assistance.”

  “Do stay for breakfast, Beckwith,” Thorne said.

  “Thank you, Your Grace, but I have another matter to which I must attend.”

  He shook hands all around before taking his leave.

  “I know it’s early,” Thornley said, “but before we meet up with the others in the dining room, let’s have a small celebration, shall we?”

  He poured a splash of brandy into six snifters and passed them around. He held his aloft. “To family and friends and everything turning out spectacularly well in the end.”

  “Hear! Hear!”

  Taking a sip of brandy, Lavinia nestled against Finn’s side, more content and happy than she’d been in her entire life. What a circuitous route it had been, and yet somehow, in spite of the odds, they’d found their way back to each other.

  “Let’s go eat,” Mick announced. “I’m starving.”

  As everyone headed for the doors, Finn held her back, holding her gaze. “Are you happy, Vivi?”

  “As a lad I know once similarly remarked, ‘I’m bloody rich, the richest in all of London.’ And it’s not because of the draft in your pocket. It’s because of you, Finn. I love you so much.”

  Lifting up on her toes, she kissed him, this man who would forever be the center of her heart.

  Breakfast had been a loud boisterous affair, nothing at all like the quiet and sedate meals held in the household in which she’d grown up. The Trewlove siblings teased each other, spoke around, over, and under each other. Only a look or clearing of the throat from Ettie Trewlove would put them in their place. It was obvious they worshipped the woman who had taken them in. Family wasn’t about blood, it was about hearts and where they belonged.

  “Finn introduced me to a cabinetmaker. A Joe Baker. And he is making the most beautiful shelves for my bookshop,” Fancy Trewlove said. Lavinia was only coming to know her. She was so much younger than the others, only seventeen, but she had a dream of owning a bookshop and Mick was giving her one. “I can’t wait for you to see them.”

  “You can’t wait for us to help you put the books on them,” Aiden said.

  “Well, that, too, of course. It goes without saying. I can hardly wait until everything is ready so I can open.”

  The conversation was carrying on, but Lavinia barely listened. Beneath the table, she squeezed Finn’s thigh. “I didn’t know you’d done that.”

  He shrugged. “Figure he could use the extra work. Building a cottage in a tree is not going to be cheap.”

  “Perhaps Mick will donate the lumber.”

  He winked at her. “We’ll see that he does.”

  “And if he doesn’t, there is bound to be lots of scraps from the building of our house that will suffice.”

  They’d found some land near Watford. Thornley’s payment to them earlier would see it become theirs.

  Leaning in, Finn pressed his lips to hers. Suddenly there was a burst of laughter and cheers. She turned away, her face growing warm with embarrassment.

  “Knock it off, you lot,” Finn called out. “A man should be able to kiss his wife when he wants.”

  The sound of silver tapping glass had them all quieting, and she looked over to see Thornley standing at the head of the table. “As I’m of the highest rank here, I believe it falls to me to make the toast.” He lifted his coupe of champagne, and everyone followed suit. “I once saw marriage as a duty. A ghastly way to view it. I have learned of late that it is a privilege, and that love can make it the closest thing to heaven we might know upon this earth.” He looked at his wife and smiled before turning his attention back to those gathered at his table. “Lavinia and Finn, I wish you a long life to enjoy what you have found in each other, troubles that are easily dealt with, and a love that grows ever deeper every day. To your happiness.”

  “Hear! Hear!”

  She brought the coupe to her lips—

  “Oh, one last thing.”

  Stopping, she looked at Thorne, and he lifted his glass a bit higher. “Thank you, my dear Lavinia, for leaving me standing quite alone at the altar.”

  She laughed. “It was my pleasure, Thorne.”


  When the breakfast was over and people retired to the parlor to visit for a bit more, Lavinia made her way down to the kitchens where she found Robin sharing some biscuits and milk with Mouser. She’d wanted the lad here, to feel part of the festivities, even if he was too young to participate in them fully.

  She wished it was warmer, so they could go out in the gardens, but winter had arrived, and the winds were blowing fierce and cold. Pulling out a chair, she sat. “I want to thank you for being willing to watch Mouser for me today.”

  “Ye married now?” Robin asked.

  “I am. You may call me Mrs. Trewlove instead of Miss Kent.”

  “Ye happy about it?”

  “Very much so. Finn and I, probably shortly after Christmas, are going to be moving to the country. We’re going to have stables and barns. As mice like stables and barns, we’re going to need a lot of cats. As you’re so very good at taking care of cats, I wondered if you might like to come live with us and see after ours.”

  He scrunched up his face. “You mean leave Gillie’s?”

  She’d spoken with both Finn and Gillie about her desire to have Robin live with them, to be the first of the many children they’d welcome into their home. “Yes. You could also help Finn with the horses.”

  “Will ye have dogs?”

  “I suspect so. We’re going to have a lot of land, so I imagine we’ll have a good many animals. Chickens, ducks, and geese. You could be master of the animals. You’d have your own bedchamber and dine with us.”

  Biting his lower lip, he shook his head. “Can’t. My mum won’t know where to find me.”

  “But you see, Robin, that’s the thing about mothers. If they are able, they always know where to find their children. And if they’re not, say if they’ve gone to heaven already, then they can look down on them and they always know where they are. And if your mum goes to Gillie’s, well, Gillie can tell her where to find you. And until she does, well, I would be your mother.”

  “But ye’re not a fairy.”

  “Here’s the thing. I still have magic. It’s called love. And it can make such a wonderful difference in a life. I love you so very much. We think you’d be happy with us, but you don’t have to decide right now. You can think about it. You can wait until you see it, decide then if it’s a place where you’d like to live.”

  He nodded. “I’ll think on it.”

  “Splendid.” She smiled at him. “Now, come upstairs. We’re going to have some cake.”

  Aiden had never been one for sweets, so Finn wasn’t surprised to find him standing on the terrace after cake was passed out to everyone.

  “Bloody cold out here,” he said as he went to stand beside his brother.

  Aiden held up a glass. “Why do you think I brought whisky with me?”

  “Is it helping?”

  “No.”

  He moved nearer, hoping for a bit of warmth. “I appreciate the kindness you’ve shown Vivi.” The kindness being a lack of animosity.

  “She’s family now. Can’t believe you married Finn’s Folly.”

  “She’s all I ever wanted, Aiden.”

  “Well, she doesn’t look to be a bad sort.”

  “High praise indeed.”

  “And she’s definitely a looker.”

  He grinned. “She is that. I have something for you, from both of us.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a leather encased packet and handed it to his brother.

  “What’s this?”

  “The deed to the Elysium Club. We’ve transferred ownership to you.”

  Aiden swung around. “Are you bloody mad? I can’t take this.”

  “Nothing for you to take. It’s done.”

  Aiden shoved it toward him. “Undo it.”

  “If not for you, I’d be on the far side of the world. Even after I finished my sentence, I doubt I’d have ever gotten back here. How many people have you heard about returning? I wouldn’t be looking forward to a life with Vivi. She wouldn’t be anticipating one with me. We owe you. Take it and be gracious about it.”

  With a sigh, Aiden tapped the leather against his thigh. “Only if you’ll take twenty percent of the profits.”

  “Twenty? I expected you to offer forty.”

  Aiden scowled. “I’ve visited the place. You’ve got less than a dozen patrons. It’s going to require a lot of work on my part. I’ll give you thirty.”

  “We’ll take ten.”

  His brother laughed. “You are the worst bargainer.”

  “Learned it from my wife.”

  “Lord help you. Twenty and that’s final. Your heart was never really in it.”

  “No, it wasn’t. You’re not obligated to make it what I envisioned. Make it a gambling hell for men if you want or for both. Burn it to the ground. It’s yours to do with as you will.”

  Aiden nodded. “What I’m going to do is make it a success. By the way, funny thing. Out of nowhere, our bastard of a sire sent word, through his solicitor, that my debt to him is paid in full, that the terms of our agreement are at an end.”

  “Maybe his conscience got the better of him.”

  “I doubt it. Saw him walking about with a splint on his arm. You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you?”

  “The bone in his forearm snapped like a twig and he squealed like a pig whose tail was tugged on.”

  Aiden lifted his brows. “It really is broken?”

  Finn couldn’t help but smile as he nodded. “I took great pleasure in delivering the blow. He is vile, our sire.”

  “So you had a word with him?”

  “I did. Don’t know how you did it before. The man is sickening scum. Knows nothing at all about my mother.”

  “Probably for the best. I prefer to think he had his way with mine once and then was done with her. Better than thinking she had to put up with him on more than one occasion.”

  “Guess we’ll never know for sure. The one thing I am glad of is that he delivered us both to Ettie Trewlove.”

  Sister Theresa was surprised when she saw Miss Kent walk into the rear gardens that afternoon wearing white silk and satin. She’d known the marriage was to take place that day; she just hadn’t expected to see the bride—and the groom, who was equally as stylishly decked out in black.

  “Miss Kent, the last time you came to us wearing a wedding gown you looked much less joyous. I assume I’ll not to be taking this gown to sell.”

  “No, Sister. And now I’m officially Mrs. Trewlove.”

  “Congratulations to you both. My best wishes on your future happiness.”

  “We have something for you, Sister,” Mr. Trewlove said, and handed her a small package.

  Inside were several pound notes.

  “We’ll be making periodic donations to the home,” he told her.

  “You’re most generous. We appreciate it.”

  She watched as Mrs. Trewlove tenderly touched her husband’s arm. “I’m going to visit with the children for a few minutes before we leave.”

  “Take as long as you want.”

  Lifting her skirts, the new wife raced to the area where children played and dropped to her knees, apparently not caring one whit that she was going to get grass stains on her gown as the little urchins whooped and gathered around her.

  Sister Theresa turned back to the man whose hair, like hers when she was younger, was an assorted shade of blond unruly curls. “You are good for her.”

  “She is even better for me.”

  “I can’t help but believe that we have met before, Mr. Trewlove.”

  “I don’t think so, Sister.”

  “I doubt there is a person in Whitechapel who hasn’t heard of the Trewlove family, who doesn’t know that Ettie Trewlove’s children are all by-blows.”

  He arched a brow.

  “I find no fault with children born under those circumstances,” she rushed to assure him. “I do wonder, however, if you know who sired you.”

  “I’m not in the habit of speakin
g his name. To be honest I find him quite vile.”

  “It wouldn’t be the Earl of Elverton, would it?”

  He stared at her as though she’d uttered Beelzebub, although for him they might be one in the same.

  “You know him?” he asked.

  “Our paths crossed some thirty-odd years ago. He could be quite charming when he put his mind to it.”

  “I can’t speak to his charm. I only met him once. It didn’t go well for him. I broke his arm.”

  A godly woman of her position shouldn’t take delight in hearing that, but then the earl had once broken her heart. “I hear no remorse in your voice, Mr. Trewlove.”

  “Because I have none where he is concerned.” Then he smiled, and it was that smile that hit her in the solar plexus and confirmed what she’d begun to suspect as she saw more and more of herself reflected in him as they spoke. He was the child taken from her when she had succumbed to sin. Perhaps if she was not now devoted to the church, she’d have told him. But she knew another woman had taken her place as mother within his heart. She would not, could not, compete with Ettie Trewlove.

  She looked to where his wife was now standing, saying goodbye to the children. “I think she no longer has a need to run.”

  “Only into my arms.”

  She chuckled softly at that. “I have no doubt, Mr. Trewlove, that your mother is incredibly proud of the man you are.”

  And for the first time in a little over thirty-one years, she knew a true measure of peace.

  He took her to the Trewlove Hotel. Since he had family connections, he was able to get them a rather lavishly appointed room, with lacy white curtains flowing down from the canopy. As she stepped over the threshold, Lavinia thought perhaps this room had been decorated with newly married couples in mind. It was rather romantic with a low fire burning on the hearth and flickering candles positioned strategically to relegate shadows to the corners while illuminating the large four-poster bed.

  She thought she should be nervous on her wedding night. But she was with Finn and had always been comfortable with him, so she merely was anticipating the night—anticipating the remainder of their days and nights together.

 

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