Eliza ran Windmill Street with military precision; Reid couldn’t see her handing over the reins to Lavinia without there being one or two bloody skirmishes. Her calm acceptance of the changing of the guard set him on edge. That, and the unclear conversation she and Callum had held in front of him earlier that morning, did nothing to calm his mind. Despite his best endeavors to keep Eliza and Callum apart he was certain that there was something going on between the pair of them.
“Is there something you wish to tell me?” he ventured.
She looked away for a moment, then slowly shook her head. The shy smile she wore when she turned back to Reid had the blood in his veins running to ice. She and Callum were involved, very involved. Reid would curse himself for the rest of his life if he let his sister fall into Callum’s world of self-destruction. Callum Sharp would destroy Eliza’s heart along with himself.
“When are we to meet with the future Lady Follett?” she asked.
“I have sent word to Lavinia that I shall collect both her and Jonathan later this afternoon. She still has students to teach until four o’clock. My fiancée and her son will be joining us for supper. I spoke to cook earlier and made the arrangements,” he replied.
Eliza studied her fingers. “Have you discussed wedding arrangements?”
“Not yet. Though I would be forever grateful for whatever help you can give Lavinia in helping her to get settled into her new life within the ton.”
“You mean her old life. Kendal’s sister did not keep safe the secret of Lavinia’s past for very long. Though I can’t blame Lady Ophelia; it is not every day that you help to discover the long-lost daughter of the Earl of Bray,” she said.
It didn’t matter anymore. Now that he and Lavinia were engaged, the truth of his fiancée’s identity would soon be all over town.
“I would also like you to make an appointment for her with your modiste. She will need to have her wardrobe updated. When I introduce her to society as my fiancée, I want her to feel like she never left.”
“You know you can count on me,” replied Eliza.
The betrothal is announced between Reid, 12th Viscount Follett, son of Lord and Lady Follett (dec), of Northamptonshire, and Mrs. L. Jones, widow, of London.
* * *
“I love you.”
She had said the words so many times over the past few days, but at this moment they held special significance. Reid toyed with the diamond engagement ring on Lavinia’s finger before raising her hand to his lips and placing a tender kiss on her fingertips. She watched him with endless fascination. Reid Follett was a handsome man, and he was all hers. She couldn’t wait to be able to call him her husband.
The betrothal notice placed in the newspaper the previous morning had made news of their engagement public. Cards and notes of congratulations had been steadily arriving at the front door since.
They had disagreed over the wording of the notice, with Reid finally relenting and agreeing that her details should only be listed as being Mrs. L. Jones, widow. Nothing was to be mentioned about her father or family of origin. Lavinia was determined to make her return to London society on her own terms.
She had won on the matter of the betrothal notice, but Reid had held his ground on her and Jonathan moving into Windmill Street the day after she had accepted his marriage proposal. For the time being, she would travel back to Craven Street to conduct lessons, but once they were married, her singing lessons would be conducted in the ballroom at Follett House. The Noble Lords would rehearse outside of her teaching hours.
As for Jonathan, he was in his element. The Follett House head cook had taken him into the kitchens on the afternoon of their arrival and after that he was rarely to be seen without a piece of food in his hand. Lavinia had never known him to be so happy.
Since her very first night at Reid’s house, there had barely been any discussion about where Lavinia would be sleeping. Her personal items had been moved into his bedroom the minute she and Jonathan had arrived.
She moved across on the bed and Reid took a seat next to her. For a time, they sat in silence, holding one another’s hand. For a man who no doubt had graced the bed of many women over the years, she found it charming that he still managed to be a little shy with her. The ongoing intimacy of marriage would come in time. The special connection that only came from sharing a bed every night and waking in each other’s arms was something she especially yearned to have once more in her life.
“You seem a little distracted,” she said.
He nodded. “Just apprehensive.”
“About getting married?” she ventured.
He slipped a hand about her waist and pulled her to him. His kiss was sure, brushing her doubt aside. “Not a chance. I have never been more certain about anything in my life. No, I am just a little unsure about the concert. I keep having this nagging worry that I am not ready.”
Reid had practiced hard every day; she had never known a more determined student than her fiancé. His skills were in place. Now she just had to convince him that he had what it took to get up on that stage and perform in front of several hundred people. “Have you been to the theater yet? I know Eliza has been liaising with the theater owner, but I don’t recall you saying anything about having visited it.”
He shook his head and smiled. “Yet another reason why I am blessed to be marrying you. You think outside the box. I should go down to Sans Pareil, stand on the stage, and try to sing. Why hadn’t I thought of that before?”
His hold on her hand tightened. Excitement gleamed on his face.
“Will you accompany me on the piano while I rehearse?” he asked.
“No. You need Kendal to do that. I am only your teacher. You should replicate as much of the final performance as you can now.” She was grateful Reid didn’t call her out on her reluctance to step onto the stage. For Reid to shine, he needed someone with musical brilliance such as Kendal to support him both during rehearsals and the actual concert.
“I understand. There are enough things for you to manage what with the wedding and taking over a household.”
Lavinia climbed off the bed, lifting the hem of her nightgown as she moved. The time for talking was at an end for the evening. She yearned for the touch of his hands on her body.
Reid watched her; a glint of lust appeared in his eyes as she pulled the nightgown over her head. He licked his lips and a shuddering breath escaped. “What were we discussing?”
Naked, she came to him and laid her hands on the placket of his trousers. She sent a silent thank you to the heavens that he had already removed his shirt and shoes. The only thing which remained between him joining her in a complete state of undress were his trousers. She set to work on the buttons, determined that nothing would stand in the way of her being able to show Reid how much she wanted him. “We were discussing you stepping out of those trousers, and impaling me with your cock,” she purred.
A deep chuckle edged with desire came from Reid. His hands cupped her breasts; his thumbs were placed strategically over each nipple, softly tracing lines back and forth. Her rosy buds hardened at his touch.
She flipped open the placket of his trousers and took a firm hold of his manhood. It grew hard and large in her hands. Knowing that she could bring him this pleasure was humbling.
He gripped her hips, and he drew her to him. Lavinia straddled Reid, then slowly sunk lower. Her eyes closed as her body blossomed for his thick erection.
A soft groan of need echoed in the dimly lit bedroom before their lips met. A slow dance of tongues began. Lavinia nipped playfully on Reid’s bottom lip, sobbing as he thrust deep into her. The torture was heavenly.
Her head dropped and their foreheads touched. Locked together, they slowly rose and fell, meeting one another’s mouths as their bodies continued the slow climb to the peak. When he ground against her sensitive nib, Lavinia groaned.
“That’s the spot. Good girl, stay right there,” he murmured. His grip on her hips tightened, and he
held her in place. She was a prisoner of his body—a willing captive.
When it came, her climax was sudden and near overwhelming. She slumped against him, a shattered wreck.
But Reid was not done with her. He rolled her over on the bed and thrust deep into her once more. It was all she could do in the gathering maelstrom to hold on to his waist as he began to increase the tempo of his strokes.
“Lift your legs; take me deeper. Give me everything,” he demanded.
Lavinia submitted to his will, desperate to show him that they were truly one. She wrapped her legs about his hips. This angle allowed Reid an even deeper penetration of her body. The sensation of his cock thrusting harder and faster into her had her fingers digging deep into his sides, urging him on.
There would be bruises in the morning for both of them. Marks on her body she would wear with pride.
With a shout, Reid collapsed on top of her. Lavinia kissed his cheek and whispered, “I love you.”
Chapter Forty-One
The woman who stared back at her in the mirror was a version of herself which Lavinia was not yet used to seeing. The lines of worry which had been such a feature of her face over the past years had softened. Some had even disappeared completely. The burden of worry she had long carried was gone. She looked more her age than she had in what seemed forever.
A new life beckoned. A life where she would no longer have to hide from the landlord when she was short on money. Her days of scrimping and making do with next to nothing were behind her.
This morning, she would marry Reid. Lavinia Jones would be no longer; she would be Lady Lavinia Follett, Viscountess Follett. While she would wear the title with pride, it was the change in her marital status that mattered most. She would once again share the joy of being a wife.
She smoothed the skirts of her deep blue silk gown before turning left and right on the spot, watching as the fabric flipped back and forth. It was wonderful to have new clothes once more. Her widow’s weeds had all been packed up and donated to a local war widow’s charity.
Reid had asked her to keep one gown from her old life. Something to hang in the back of her wardrobe and take out when she needed to have a private moment and remember Peter. Her late husband’s war medals had been carefully packed away in a box, along with some of his other possessions. Jonathan would take ownership of them when he was older and could appreciate them.
That was the kind of honorable man she was about to marry. Reid had her future, but he wanted to preserve her past. To keep those memories precious.
She blinked away a tear. Peter would forever hold a special place in her heart.
A knock at the bedroom door saw Reid enter the room. He was dressed in a black suit and his blue waistcoat matched Lavinia’s gown. He stopped and held his hand over his heart. “You look so beautiful. I cannot believe that I am such a fortunate man to soon be able to call you my wife.”
From behind his back, he produced a posy of flowers. A second tear sprang to her eye as she recognized the blooms. They were the same as the posy Reid had given her on the occasion of his first singing lesson.
She accepted the thoughtful gift. “You remembered.”
“Always. The same as I remember the first time you tried to send me away. You were keen to be rid of me, but even then, I knew I couldn’t leave,” he replied.
Fate had brought them together, and it would not have them part.
Eliza brought Jonathan into the room. He was dressed in full formal attire, looking every inch the son of London society that he would soon become.
He bowed low to his mother, chancing a look at Reid as he raised his head. Reid gave an approving nod to his soon-to-be stepson.
“May I escort you?” asked Jonathan.
Lavinia silently nodded, too choked up with tears to reply. Reid placed a kiss on her cheek.
“Everyone is downstairs waiting for you. I shall see you shortly.”
“I still cannot believe you have beaten all of us to the parson’s noose,” said Kendal.
Reid accepted his handshake and good wishes. He was finding it rather difficult himself to believe that within the hour he would have a wife and a child. For him, however, there were no regrets in giving up his bachelor days. The nights he had already spent with Lavinia in their bed held the promise of a lifetime of love.
“And he is doing it all of his own free will. No blasted sire standing over him demanding that he take the plunge with some woman he has never met,” said Owen.
If there was anyone Reid did feel bad for, it was Owen. While he had been able to choose his bride, Owen had not. Somewhere in England, his fiancée waited for him. Sooner rather than later he would have to make the journey home and claim her.
“I’m surprised you are not having a full church service at Saint George’s,” said Callum.
Reid had tried and failed to convince Lavinia to hold the service at the church where the majority of the residents of Mayfair and its surrounds worshipped. But she would not agree to it. She would manage her reentry into London society on her own terms. As her husband, he was determined to support her in that venture. “Lavinia and I have thought about it and decided that we wanted to have something here at home. She feels it’s being respectful to her late husband, as they had a small church wedding, and I am inclined to agree.”
Eliza made her way into the ballroom and gave a wave to Kendal. He rolled his eyes and headed toward the piano. Owen and Callum followed.
She leaned in close to Reid. “I can’t believe you got Kendal to agree to playing the wedding march from The Marriage of Figaro. You know how much he hates Mozart.”
Reid softly chuckled. It had taken a lot of convincing to get him to cave. Reid had actually given up, but Lavinia had managed to talk the musical maestro around. “It is one of Lavinia’s favorite pieces. She had her heart set on it.”
Eliza turned toward the three members of the Noble Lords who were to play the music for the service. A deep frown of worry creased her brow as her gaze settled and lingered on Callum. Her bottom lip disappeared into her mouth, and she sniffed back a tear. “It’s a lovely piece. I always thought it would be nice to have it played at my wedding.”
“And so, you shall,” replied Reid.
She gave him a disinterested nod in reply.
The main doors of the ballroom were pushed open by footmen and locked into place. Eliza placed a kiss on her brother’s cheek. “Time for you to go and await your bride.”
Reid needed no further prompting. He strode purposefully to the front of the room and took his place in front of the minister. His one concession to Lavinia’s wedding demands was that they be married by the rector from St George’s church. A generous donation to the parish building fund had smoothed over any concerns that the minister may have had in conducting a wedding service outside the church itself.
When the first note of Mozart’s wedding march filled the room, Reid’s heart swelled. Flouting convention, he turned and watched as Lavinia walked into the room. The sight of his bride had Reid grinning from ear to ear.
You take my breath away.
As per Reid’s request, Lavinia wore her hair down. The soft curls now grew past her shoulders. She had promised him she would let her hair grow long again, and they had sealed that vow with an afternoon of tender kisses and lovemaking.
Jonathan walked beside Lavinia, holding her left hand. In her right, she carried the posy.
He watched with unrestrained joy as they approached. His new family.
Behind them trailed Eliza, a huge smile plastered across her face. He nodded to her. Today would see the beginning of a new chapter in the Follett family history. A new happiness to help some of the pain of losing their parents so tragically fade.
When Lavinia and Jonathan reached Reid’s side, Jonathan placed his mother’s hand in Reid’s then stepped back. Reid motioned for Jonathan to come and stand alongside him. “You have given the bride away; now you have to do your duty and be my be
st man.”
Lavinia’s eyes glistened with tears. She whispered, “Thank you, Jonathan. I am so proud of you today.”
Holding hands, she and Reid turned and faced the minister.
Chapter Forty-Two
The gold wedding band glistened on her finger. Lavinia had known that the Follett family heirloom was perfect from the very first moment she had seen it.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
She lifted her gaze; a beaming Reid smiled back at her. They had done it. They were married.
He placed a finger under her chin and leaned in before giving her a chaste kiss that still held all the promise of the desire, he felt for her. Desire she knew simmered constantly, just below his calm demeanor.
“I love you,” he whispered, drawing back.
“I love you too.”
The strains of Haydn now filled the room; Kendal’s tolerance of Mozart only extended so far.
Eliza offered her congratulations, hugging Lavinia and proudly declaring, “I have always wanted a sister. I am thrilled beyond words.”
Jonathan, in a move which had his mother smiling with pride, bowed low to Reid. Reid, in turn, scooped the young boy up and hugged him. Jonathan let out a whoop of joy and cried, “Papa!”
With a grin as wide as the ocean, Reid replied, “Jonathan, my son. I am so happy to be your papa.”
The new family made their way over to where the other members of the Noble Lords were playing the final notes of the music. Instruments were quickly set aside, and handshakes and backslaps took their place.
“Lady Follett, congratulations. Reid has chosen well,” said Kendal.
The next hug of congratulations came from Owen. The lady-killer himself. With his long dark hair held back with a black ribbon, there was no denying he was a handsome man. While his chiseled features were exactly what many women would swoon over, they lacked the warmth of someone who understood the meaning of love.
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