Viscount of Vanity

by Tammy Andresen

  He held her tighter as he dropped his cheek to her head. “We will leave very soon, but not out of fear. You don’t need to be afraid of him any longer.”

  * * *

  Gabriella looked up at her husband, love and happiness stamping out the worry that had just clouded her mind.

  He was right, of course.

  She was under her father’s tyranny her entire life, but now she was free. She had a loving, kind, strong husband who would protect and support her always.

  “Austin,” she whispered as she wrapped her arms about him. “I love you so very much.”

  He reached for her chin, gently tipping it toward his. “I love you too. You’ve brought such joy to my life, Gabriella. Rest assured, I won’t allow anything to hurt you, ever.”

  She kissed him again, her arms about him. Once upon a time, she’d wished for a hero. A man to love her. She’d gotten her wish but it was so much more than that. This was deeper, stronger than any fantasy she’d ever imagined. “Let’s go inside. I need to check on Mrs. Butterfield.”

  “Good idea,” he answered, leading her in the house. “We’ll have to stay a few extra days, I’m afraid. I need to make certain your father lands in prison. But you can take that time to care for Mrs. Butterfield.”

  She stepped through the door, her hand still tucked in his. Mrs. Butterfield sat in a chair next to the stove, holding her head in her hands. She had a lump forming on her forehead but looked unharmed otherwise.

  “Oh, my dear,” Mrs. Butterfield cried as she rose from the chair and threw her arms about Gabriella. “I am so sorry.”

  “I should say sorry to you.” Gabriella returned the hug. “He was trying to get to me. What can I do for you?”

  “Tea would be nice.” Mrs. Butterfield smiled. “And I told you before. It’s not your fault that your father is a bad egg.”

  “That is the absolute truth,” Austin said coming next to his wife.

  Gabriella reached for her husband’s hand. How was it even possible that she’d found her place in this world at an auction her father had devised?

  Regardless, Austin was her forever.

  Epilogue

  One year later…

  Gabriella stood on the seamstress’s dressing block with her arms up as the woman measured her waist. “I’m going to have to let out the waists in your gowns again, my lady.”

  Gabriella grinned as she studied her reflection in the mirror. She loved her growing stomach and the baby that was inside.

  Austin’s baby.

  They’d gotten into the habit of sleeping, spooned together, his arm resting on her stomach as their little girl or boy kicked about.

  She suspected she’d give birth in another month or so and then they could end the debate that had been raging amongst their friends as to whether or not their first child would be male.

  The Duke of Devonhall, Bash, had sworn it would be a boy, while his wife, Isabella, had raised a finger and said with absolute certainty, “See the way her stomach carries so low, that’s a girl.”

  It had been the topic of endless nights’ discussions, which made Gabriella both glowingly happy and just a touch afraid. After one such night, she’d ask Austin. “Will you mind if it’s a girl?”

  “Mind?” he asked, chuckling. “I only hope she has your raven hair.”

  Eliza, the wife of the Marquess of Milton, was also with child, though she wasn’t due for several months. They’d not told anyone about her own possible connection to the family. Not that it mattered. His friends and their wives had become family. A gift that she was infinitely grateful for.

  Isabella stood next to her, giving Gabriella a secret smile as she too was fitted for a new spring gown. “Can I tell you something?”

  Gabriella’s eyebrows raised. “You can tell me anything.”

  Isabella’s eyes sparkled. “I know that I can.” The duchess’s hand skimmed down her own very flat stomach. Gabriella’s brows hitched higher as her lips parted. “Does Bash know?”

  Isabella shook her head. “I’ve only missed one month. When I’ve missed a second…”

  The seamstress finished and Gabriella stepped off her box and moved closer to Isabella. “How long has it been?”

  “Six or seven weeks,” the duchess whispered.

  Gabriella gave a tiny clap, then her hands slipped. “Have you told any of your sisters yet?”

  Isabella shook her head. “Abigail has been in Overton with Blackwater, and Eliza has her own bundle to think about. They’ve only just returned from their trip to America and now they’re preparing for a child.”

  Gabriella understood. She truly did. But as she took Isabella’s hand, she patted the backs of the other woman’s fingers. “You should tell them. All of them. That’s the beauty of family. They will have room to share in your joy just as they have in your sorrows.”

  Isabella nodded. “That is great advice, thank you.”

  Gabriella appreciated the gratitude, but she didn’t need it. She’d learned this directly from Austin. He’d given her so much love when she’d needed it most and taken on her burdens as his own.

  It would take her an entire lifetime to repay him, but she was set on trying.

  And this baby would be her first of many gifts.

  She and Isabella left the shop and found their husbands waiting for them at the nearby inn.

  Austin rose the moment he saw her, stepping over to assist her to the table. He gently lowered her into a chair. “Hello, my love,” he said as he took his own seat. “How did you fare?”

  “Quite well,” she answered.

  Bash helped Isabella into the other empty chair. “And you, wife? Did you find the dresses you were looking for?”

  “I did,” Isabella answered, giving Gabriella a wink. “We had a lovely time.”

  Austin laced his fingers through Gabriella’s. “I’ve taken the liberty of ordering for us. I hope you don’t mind, but Gabriella seems famished every few hours.”

  “It’s true, though I also seem to fill up just as quickly.”

  Everyone laughed as they continued on with lunch. Once they’d finished, Austin helped her into their carriage as they made their way home. Her head rested on his shoulder as her eyes drifted closed. Tiredness was another frequent symptom.

  He brushed a kiss on the top of her head. “Shall I have a bath drawn for you when we arrive home?”

  “I’d like that,” she answered with a sigh. “I’d like it even better if you could join me.”

  He chuckled. “I think we’re going to need a bigger tub.”

  Gabriella laughed too. “I agree. Who wants to bathe alone?”

  He captured her lips with his. “Certainly not me.” He kissed her again. “I’m not sure I want to do anything without you, ever.”

  “I love you,” she said as she rested against his shoulder. “Thank you for giving me this beautiful life, Austin.”

  “I love you too.” And despite her size, he lifted her into his lap. “You have to know what a gift you’ve been in return. Before you, I was living a half-life, Gabriella. You’re everything to me.”

  She tilted her chin back to give him a kiss. Here, in his arms, was exactly where she belonged.

  Earl of Infamy

  Lords of Scandal

  Tammy Andresen

  Forward: This book is dedicated to my mother…. I didn’t plan it this way but the longer I wrote, the more Avery reminded me of you. Fighting for freedom, feisty, but still loving. Thanks for everything, Mom!

  “Forgive me, my lord, but the answer is no.” Avery Bright peered through the dark veil covering her eyes at the man who stood before her. He was tall, dark-haired, broad in the shoulder but the black layers of tulle, along with the dimly lit room, kept her from seeing the details of his face.

  A definite disadvantage now.

  “What?” His rough voice grated out, craggy and deep. It might have been a pleasant baritone if he didn’t sound so irritated. The Earl of Ivinhart. That’s
the name he’d given her.

  She gripped the letter he’d handed her at the outset of their interview tighter in her hand. She was used to people being irritated with her. At some point, when a woman lived with a man who was always angry, she either folded under his ire or learned to ignore it. Avery was the latter.

  “No,” she repeated softly. “I cannot, in good conscience , leave London with you.”

  He let out a noise that was somewhere between a huff and a growl. Even through the veil, she could see the tension in his shoulders. She kept her shoulders straight and stared at him through the dark fabric.

  He shifted. “Just read the letter.”

  Looking down at the parchment she still clutched, Avery noted the Duke of Devonhall’s seal. Devonhall was her cousin-in-law, married to her cousin, Isabella. Her cousins were the only family she had left, now.

  Clearly, this man knew her family as he claimed.

  She turned back to the desk and reached for the letter open to split open the seal. The letter opener was cold in her bare hand. She’d been pulled from bed for this meeting and hadn’t donned her gloves. She’d only just managed to toss the veil over her head as she’d headed out the door, following the maid who now sat silently in the corner.

  Though it was past two in the morning, she hadn’t been asleep. Isabella and her duke had gone out to a ball and, as was her habit, Avery had been up waiting for them. In fact, she wondered why they hadn’t arrived home yet. While some lords and ladies would stay out until the sunrise, Bash and Isabella only socialized out of obligation. They were far more content at home and were often the first to leave such events.

  With her back to the earl, she carefully lifted the veil and scanned the contents as she gripped her housecoat tighter about her frame. The contents explained much. Including why the couple had yet to arrive home.

  There could be no doubt the letter was from her cousin. In rushed words, Isabella explained that Emily, Isabella’s sister, had nearly been kidnapped by the very men who’d killed Avery’s father. Her fingers tightened in the fabric as fear shivered down her spine.

  “Might we leave now?” Ivinhart rumbled behind her. “Time is of the essence.”

  She set the letter down on the desk and placed the veil over her face again. Drawing in a deep breath, she turned to face the man who was apparently her rescuer though he seemed a bit more like the villain.

  Then again, perhaps she could no longer tell.

  She wore the veil to mourn her father’s death. It was expected of her. But the man had been a cold-blooded tyrant and his murder had been her emancipation. For the first time in her entire life she was free. “What happens if I don’t go?”

  He reached up a hand and raked his fingers through the dark locks. It was a gesture of irritation but something about it was rather boyish and charming. It showed he wasn’t just cold and rumbly but somehow more human. “I honestly don’t know.”

  Those words softened her further. He might be as uncertain as she. “Why didn’t Isabella and Bash come to collect me themselves?”

  “They’ve already left the city,” he answered, his voice quieter, perhaps more gentle. “Every member of your family is leaving London, going in a different direction with a different person.”

  “Oh dear.” She clasped her hands against her stomach. For the first time real flutters of fear thrummed inside. They’d all left the city? She was here alone?

  She swallowed down a lump as she looked back at Ivinhart. Leaving with him meant she’d be ruined. Which didn’t bother her nearly as much as it ought. Her entire life she’d been a prisoner to her father’s anger and schemes.

  The truth was, she had no intention of marrying. Ever.

  She’d decided shortly after his death that she’d not be subjected to a man’s whims again.

  Travelling with the Earl of Ivinhart was certainly one way to effectively ruin herself quickly and completely to ensure she never, ever, ever had to wed. “Do I have time to dress?”

  His shoulders slumped in relief. “If you’re quick. We’ll pack only a few essentials. No trunk I’m afraid. I’ll buy you more clothing when we’ve reached our destination.”

  “You’ll buy me clothes?” she asked as she passed him and made her way into the hall. Now that she’d made up her mind, she was eager to see the plan through. “And His Grace agrees with this?”

  She was moving down the hall and he followed, the maid just behind both of them. “He does.”

  She crinkled her brow, surprised and a bit perplexed. Avery had assumed that after her period of mourning, she’d have to come up with a way to support herself. Had her cousin-in-law already resigned himself to the fact that she’d be ruined and that he’d have to support her after she returned to London?

  Because if he had, that would make her future plans a great deal easier.

  Granted, she still needed to decide what she would do with herself. She couldn’t just sit in this house all day but that was a problem for another time, not the middle of the night as she attempted to steal away from London.

  Then a new thought occurred to her. “Does His Grace intend to tell everyone that I travelled with him and Isabella rather than you?” She’d decided to go, and she would. It was clearly a case of safety. But the plan was made all the better if it involved her permanent removal from the marriage mart. And if the Duke of Devonshire had already made plans to secure her reputation…well, that would mean she might need to marry still. Or find another way out.

  Silence met her question, but she kept moving, entering her room, and leaving him in the hall. She’d ask again after she’d dressed.

  She turned to begin instructing the maid. Avery had fully expected Ivinhart to wait outside, but as she spun, she found him in her room. “My lord.” She stopped, freezing where she stood. “What are you doing in my room?”

  He grimaced. “Helping you to pack a few essentials.”

  “But I need to dress.”

  He shrugged. “There’s a changing screen. Just step behind that.” And then he crossed over to her armoire and began pulling out articles of clothing.

  The man had lost his mind. She was about to travel with a madman.

  * * *

  Noah Graves, the Earl of Ivinhart, could feel her eyes on his back as he opened the clothes press and pulled out stockings from one of the drawers.

  “My lord,” she admonished behind him. “Are you touching my under—” She stopped short, not finishing the sentence.

  The corner of his mouth twitched. She was too much a lady to say the rest, but he wished she had.

  Avery Bright was strong and practical. She’d been a bit hardheaded at the start, but that was to be expected. Admired even. What sort would she be if she’d just agreed to leave with a stranger? He didn’t yet know if she was pretty or what her figure might look like under that dressing gown, but at least she wasn’t foolish or silly, dimwitted, or prone to bouts of emotion.

  All in all, her calm and intelligent demeanor was a relief.

  It wasn’t every day that a man agreed to marry a woman sight unseen.

  He winced at the idea. Because he’d yet to actually tell her that part of the arrangement he’d made with Bash, the Duke of Devonshire, was that he’d wed Miss Avery Bright once they arrived at his country estate.

  On the one hand, telling her might explain a great deal. Why Bash had given his permission for the two of them to travel alone, why Noah would be furnishing her wardrobe. On the other, it would surely bring up a great many questions he wasn’t quite ready to answer.

  Questions like, why would you agree to marry a woman you’ve never met?

  He cleared his throat. The answer to that was…complicated.

  Noah and Bash, along with a few other lords, owned a gaming hell together called the Den of Sins.

  With the duke’s marriage, he’d lost interest in the club. He’d offered Noah his shares in the business if Noah married Avery.

  How did one tell a woman h
er dowry was an illegal club?

  Not to mention that her husband to be was such a known rake that even as an earl, he’d have a difficult time getting a woman of quality to marry him.

  Or at least he thought he might have a hard time. To be fair, he hadn’t tried.

  And he didn’t really want to.

  He knew he needed a wife at some point. But a man with his past didn’t exactly rush into marriage. In fact, he’d looked at the state of matrimony with a fair amount of dread.

  But Avery seemed the practical sort and he was certain she’d be willing to come to an agreement of sorts with him. He could continue on with the club and his life and she’d have the protection afforded a countess. They’d both benefit.

  So why did he not wish to tell her?

  He turned to see Avery still hadn’t moved. She stared at him through the veil.

  “If you could begin changing… We really must go.”

  She made a squeaking sound as though she’d tried to speak but then stopped. “You’re not going to leave the room?”

  The maid covered her mouth with her hands, eying Avery with wide eyes. The women exchanged a look. He’d best stop them before they started putting up more barriers. He and Avery needed to leave posthaste.

  “I saw three men loitering out front when I arrived. I had my driver drop me three streets away and then I snuck through the neighbor’s garden to get into the house through the kitchen. Forgive me, Miss Bright, but time is of the essence.”

  That seemed to spur her on, and she spun and marched behind the screen, the maid following.

  He saw the veil drape over the screen first and he had the most ridiculous urge to see what her face looked like.

  It didn’t matter.

  And besides, they really did need to hurry.

  He supposed it was natural for a man to want to see his future wife but her looks were of no consequence. The honest truth was this was a business arrangement. One where he was provided an heir and she received a future as a countess, and he avoided having to participate in society for a season to find a wife.