by Lauren Royal
THE VISCOUNT’S WALLFLOWER BRIDE
Lauren Royal & Devon Royal
The Viscount’s Wallflower Bride is the SWEET & CLEAN edition of Violet by Lauren Royal
3rd Edition, July 2017
Novelty Books
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Title Page
Book Description
More Chase Family Books
A Message from Devon...
Chase Family Tree
Cover Image
Dedication
1: St. Swithin's Day.
2: Violet Ashcroft cleared...
3: "Nurse Lydia said if it rains...
4: The next morning...
5: "Please wait, Margaret...
6: Ford hurried to the kitchen...
7: The next morning, Ford...
8: Perching a knee on one...
9: In the three hours since...
10: "All right, Rowan...
11: "She wrecked his...
12: Hitching herself forward...
13: Rowan climbed into...
14: "Why aren't we going...
15: Jewel was waiting...
16: While Rowan ran...
17: Ford reclined in an...
18: "Holy Hades," Rowan...
19: Two hours later...
20: "What's wrong?"
21: "Look!" Jewel pointed...
22: Violet jumped up from...
23: The next day, Ford paced...
24: "It's up here, Violet."
25: "Of course you'll go...
26: "Nesbitt!" Ford charged...
27: A knock came...
28: "How did you get it?"
29: An hour later, Mum...
30: Later, Ford seated...
31: Colin wasn't beaming...
32: Feeling more lighthearted...
33: Violet had always thought...
34: Ford frowned as he moved...
35: Half an hour later, Violet...
36: Violet rode in a carriage...
37: Lakefield House was quiet.
38: Seated in her customary...
39: Chrystabel loved...
40: An impatient knock...
41: An hour later, having...
42: Watching time.
43: "Have you and the...
44: For the dozenth time...
45: Other than the odd...
46: "Move aside, if you will....
47: No sooner had Ford...
48: "Violet!" her father...
49: "I love you."
50: Ford was sitting...
51: Eighteen.
52: By the time she made...
53: At Lady Trentingham's...
54: Watching Ford approach...
55: Some places never...
56: So he wasn't going...
57: "Very interesting...
58: In the end, she didn't...
59: "This room doesn't have...
60: "Is this where you sleep?"
61: "Joseph?" Crystabel called...
62: Foreclosure.
63: Violet looked up ...
64: "Father," Violet said loudly...
65: Three weeks later, Ford...
66: After waiting what seemed...
67: Two weeks later, in the...
68: As evening fell, it began...
69: It was perfect.
70: It wasn't the first morning...
Epilogue: Violet was reading...
Thank You!
BONUS MATERIALAuthor's Note
Explore the Chase Family World
Excerpt from THE BARON'S INCONVENIENT BRIDE
Books by Lauren & Devon Royal
Contest
About the Authors
Acknowledgments
Contact Information
Copyright Page
BOOK DESCRIPTION
The Viscount’s Wallflower Bride is the SWEET & CLEAN edition of Violet by Lauren Royal
England, 1673
Lady Violet Ashcroft grew up sheltered in the countryside, far from the dashing gentlemen of the court—and that’s how she likes it. Here on her family’s beautiful, quiet estate, she needn’t fight off suitors who are only after her sizable inheritance, or play second fiddle to her prettier younger sisters. Love and marriage aren’t for everyone, and sensible Violet would rather spend her days improving her mind than risking her heart. Until a rather dashing gentleman shows up next door…
Ford Chase, Viscount Lakefield, has had it with women. Who’s got time for them, anyway, when there’s important work to be done? Fresh out of Oxford, Ford is ready to devise his first world-changing invention. All he needs is some peace and quiet on his neglected country estate, where there is no family to nag him and, most especially, no women to distract him—until he’s thrown into the company of the intriguing Lady Violet…
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A MESSAGE FROM DEVON…
Not gonna lie, I thought it was pretty cool growing up with an author for a mom! I’d always been into books (like, every morning when 1st grade reading time ended, Mrs. Schultz had to physically pry the book from my hands), plus there were perks. Mom was always home with us kids, so we never had to go to daycare. She was also always on deadline, so we got to eat a lot of Pizza Hut for dinner. And I could impress my friends by moseying into Barnes & Noble and casually pointing out my mom’s books on the shelves.
The only problem: I wasn’t allowed to read them!
Her romance novels were for and about adults, and I was just a kid. A kid who loved books and hated rules—so you can imagine my dismay.
Of course, the instant I was old enough, I swiped a full set of her books from the garage and devoured them all in a row. And I wasn’t surprised when I loved every one, because, you guys, my mom is seriously awesome.
Recently the aforementioned awesome lady had an awesome idea: releasing new, revised versions of her novels that are appropriate for all ages, so that everyone can enjoy them. To think, all those dismay-ful years could have been avoided!
I knew instantly I was the girl for the job. My mom and I have been writing together basically since I learned how to type—our first all-new collaborative release, Alice Betrothed, is a project we started when I was in middle school—plus, I was a sweet-romance-reading teenager myself only a few years ago. I literally bumped into walls walking around high school with my nose buried in a book.
There’s a crazy amount of fantastic romance out there right now—we’re SO excited that you’ve chosen our book! Like, spontaneous-dance-party-excited! I would be doing the robot right now if I weren’t busy typing. Maybe I’ll wrap up this letter so I can go do that.
I so hope you’ll enjoy Violet’s story!
xoxo
June 2016
CHASE FAMILY TREE
To see a larger version of the Chase Family Tree, click here!
For June & Lærke,
our first mother-daughter readers
ONE
England
July 15, 1673
ST. SWITHIN’S DAY. Well, it was fitting.
Ford Chase stared out his carriage window at the miserable, wet landscape. According to St. Swithin’s legend, if rain fell on the fifteenth of July, it would continue for forty days and nights. Not that Ford believed in such superstitious swill. But today it seemed almost plausible.
This was shaping up to be the worst day of his life.
The carriage rattled over
the drawbridge and into the modest courtyard of Greystone, his brother’s small castle. Cold raindrops pelted Ford’s head when he shoved open the door and leapt to the circular drive. Drenched gravel crunching beneath his boots, he made his way down a short, covered passageway and banged the knocker on the unassuming oak door.
Benchley cracked open the door, then slipped outside and shut it behind him. “My lord, what brings you here today?”
“I wish to speak with my brother.” Ford frowned down at the small, wiry valet. What was he doing answering the door? “Will you be letting me in?”
“I think not,” Benchley replied in a surly tone Ford had never heard him use before. “I’ll fetch Lord Greystone.” And with that, he disappeared back into the ancient castle.
Shivering, Ford stood open-mouthed in disbelief. Well, this treatment certainly fit in with the rest of his day. Rain dripped from his limp brown hair to sprinkle on the stones at his feet. Deciding he needn’t ask permission to enter his brother’s home, he reached for the latch.
The door opened, and his brother stepped out. He looked haggard, his face a pasty gray, his green eyes and black hair dull.
“Colin? What the deuce is going on?”
“Illness. Measles, we think. Thank goodness you’re here.”
Ford pulled his surcoat tighter around himself. “Come again?”
“Amy is ill, along with Hugh and the baby. And half of the servants. One of them died yesterday,” Colin added grimly.
“Died?” Ford’s gut twisted as he thought of Amy—Colin’s lovely, raven-haired wife—and their wild four-year-old son, Hugh, and the baby, Aidan…all dead.
“It’s not so bad as all that,” Colin rushed to assure him. “The poor maid was eighty if she were a day, and the disease went straight to her lungs. Amy and the children will recover.”
Ford nodded, noting his brother looked worried, but quite calm. ”Good. I’ll keep them in my prayers.” He shook more water out of his hair. “At least you won’t be falling ill. Do you remember when all four of us caught measles on the Continent?”
“I could hardly forget.” Moving like an old man, Colin leaned gingerly against the doorpost. “But what does that have to do with now?”
“At a Royal Society lecture, I learned one cannot fall ill with the same disease twice,” Ford explained.
“I’ve had measles more than once.”
“Not true measles, the one with the high fever. Spotted skin is a symptom of many different conditions.”
“If you say so.” Colin shrugged, but his face showed a hint of relief. “Still, the fever is dreadful, and Jewel has yet to suffer measles. True measles, as you put it. Will you take her with you—away from here—before she succumbs as well? It would ease my mind, and Amy’s too, I’m sure. The worry is doing her no good.”
Alarm bells went off in Ford’s head. Take his niece? Where? And…how? What was he to do with a little girl? Instinctively, he began backing away. “Uh, I only stopped by to let you know I’ve left London and will be at Lakefield for the foreseeable future—”
“Perfect.”
“—working on my watch design. I…I just wanted to be alone for a while. You see, Lady Tabitha has eloped.”
“With the rest of the family off in Scotland, I was at my wit’s end deciding what to do. I was about to settle Jewel in the village. But this will be much better—”
“Tabitha eloped,” Ford repeated loudly, stopping in his tracks.
Didn’t his brother care that he’d had his heart trampled today?
“She eloped?” Colin blinked, then shook his head. “My sympathies, Ford, truly. But what did you expect, man? After so many years—how long had you been courting her, anyway?”
“Since…well, I was ten when we met. But we weren’t ‘courting,’ as you say, until…sixteen or so? I gave her that little ring—”
“Sixteen! So now, at twenty-three, you’ve kept her waiting seven years, with nary a whisper of a serious proposal—”
“I told her we’d marry someday. In a few years.” Tabitha had always been Ford’s perfect match—his pretty and spirited childhood friend had grown into a flawless beauty with a sparkling wit. Together at court, they’d reveled in an endless round of lavish balls and entertainments, and while Ford was away at university, she’d busied herself with whatever it was women liked to do, leaving him plenty of time for his pursuits. Parfait. Or so he’d thought. “For heaven’s sake, she was hardly a spinster at twenty-one. And as you said, I’m only twenty-three—”
“I married at twenty-one.”
“You were in a hurry to have children.”
“No. I was in love.”
“So was I! So am I, that is.”
“You really have no idea why Tabitha gave up on you, do you?” Colin rubbed his eyes. “I know you don’t want to hear this, baby brother, but it’s time you grew up. Maybe Jason and I coddled you too much.”
From beyond the passageway, the patter of rain filled their sudden silence. Ford’s hands wanted to curl into fists, but his brother was obviously weary, so he thought it best to ignore Colin’s unfair remarks. Doubtless the poor fellow had spent sleepless nights watching over his wife and sons—exactly why Ford wasn’t ready to settle down himself.
“You look tired,” he said. “You’d best get some rest.”
His brother heaved a sigh. “I’d rest easier if I knew you had Jewel. You’ll take her, won’t you? Just for a week or two. Maybe three. Until the illness has run its course.” Colin twisted the signet ring on his finger, narrowing his eyes. “Why are you hesitating? I need you.”
Ford stifled a groan. What on earth would he do with a five-year-old girl? He loved Jewel, of course. He loved all his nieces and nephews—even boisterous Hugh—and had learned to enjoy the role of uncle. But bouncing a baby on his lap or entertaining a child with a simple card game was one thing. A few moments of fun before returning the little one to its parents. Completely different from being responsible for a child all on his own…
“I’m not hesitating.” Ford shoved a hand through his wet hair. “I just don’t know how…”
Colin’s eyes went wide. “Did you think I’d expect you to care for her on your own? Heaven forbid.” His lips quirked as though he might laugh, but he covered it with a cough. “I’ll send Lydia along with her.”
Ford longed to wipe the patronizing look off Colin’s face—but not nearly enough to refuse his offer. With Jewel’s very competent nurse at her side, Ford wouldn’t have to do a thing. He could just poke his head into Jewel’s room and say hello every once in a while before returning to his laboratory.
“You won’t have to do a thing,” Colin went on, echoing Ford’s thoughts. “You can stay cooped up with your toys all day, if you like.”
Irked that his brother had guessed his thoughts, Ford gritted his teeth. “They are not toys, they’re instruments of—”
“Relax, brother. I meant no disrespect to your little hobby.”
Ford grunted. “Why do I even bother?” he wondered aloud.
“How should I know?” Colin retorted. “I’m just a regular human, incapable of grasping the complexities of your genius. Why, talking to me must be like trying to communicate with a toddler.”
“Criminy, I—”
“Maybe that was your problem with Tabitha.”
Now Ford’s fingers did curl into fists. He’d never pretended to understand women. No scientific analysis in existence could decipher that code.
But science wasn’t the only thing he understood.
And he hadn’t had a problem with Tabitha!
And he was finished with this discussion.
“Of course I’ll take Jewel,” he said, hiding his fists behind his back. “Her company will be delightful.”
And he wasn’t lying. Just now, anyone’s company would be preferable to that of his deuced brother.
TWO
VIOLET ASHCROFT cleared her throat and held up her book. “‘To say that a b
lind custom of obedience should be a surer obligation than duty taught and understood…is to affirm that a blind man may tread surer by a guide than a seeing man by a light.’”
“What is that supposed to mean?” her youngest sister, Lily, asked, busily stitching her tapestry in the grayish light from the large picture window. Lily probably had little real desire to know what the quote meant, but she was unfailingly kind. And Violet would never turn away from anyone willing to listen.
She hitched herself forward on the green brocade chair. “Well, you see—”
“Why do you care?” their middle sister, Rose, interrupted. Rose cared little for anything that didn’t have to do with dancing, clothes, or gentlemen. Tossing her gleaming ringlets, she looked up from the vase of flowers she was arranging. “It’s nothing but a bunch of gibberish, if you ask me.”
“Nobody asked.” Violet aimed a pointed look at Lily. “Did you hear anyone ask?”
“Girls.” Clucking her tongue, their mother poured a dipperful of water into the kettle over the fire. “I used to comfort myself that when you all grew up, this bickering would cease. Yet it never has.”
Lily’s wide blue eyes were all innocence. “But Mum,” she said sweetly. Their mother’s proper name was Chrystabel, but as their father called her Chrysanthemum, they’d taken to calling her Mum. “It’s loving bickering.”
“And a poor example for your little brother.” With a sigh, Mum began plucking petals from a bunch of lush pink roses. “What does it mean?” she asked Violet. “And who said it?”
“It means we should understand why we are doing things instead of blindly behaving as we’re told. Rather like our Ashcroft family motto: Interroga Conformationem, Question Convention. But said much more eloquently, don’t you think? By Francis Bacon.”
Violet snapped the book closed, its title, Advancement of Learning, winking gold from the spine in her lap. “But I’m wondering,” she teased. “When did my Mum become interested in philosophy?”
