Regency for all Seasons: A Regency Romance Collection

by Mary Lancaster

  Violet emitted a mirthful laugh. “Honestly, Romulus, the way you describe her. I’m sure she isn’t nearly as daunting as you make her sound.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Oh, she’s worse. But she will adore you. My cousin Finn will also be there. I spoke to him last night. He has agreed to hold the donations for St. Aubrey’s.”

  “Then I may thank him in person this afternoon. I’ll let Uncle John know your cousin is willing. He’ll include it in his note to Jameson.”

  She nibbled her lip, a little troubled to be taking the responsibility away from her old friend, but it was a small thing. Jameson could still claim all the glory. No one would think twice about his delegating the financial aspect since it was considered beneath a gentleman to deal with something as crass as the money handling.

  “Since you’ll be occupied at the Admiralty, I’ll ask Uncle John if I may join him at the Royal Society. He’s arranged to meet the Duke of Lotheil there at noon. It will give me the chance to view the hall. If the duke gives his permission, then we’ll have to work fast to get the place set up properly.”

  “I hope it all works out, Violet.”

  She cast him an impish grin. “I’ve already sorted through my songbook and chosen about twenty songs I think will be appropriate for the recital. I’ll have to narrow them down to four or five. But I’ll sing them all to you first, and you can tell me which you like best. You won’t mind, will you?”

  “Gad, Violet. That’s just cruel.” He laughingly groaned. “But you know I’d do it for you.”

  His expression had her laughing all the harder, and yet there was something deliciously sweet in the way he regarded her. She was truly touched, knowing how much he detested musicales. However, for her, he’d endure.

  “Stop cringing, Romulus. I’m teasing you. It is Jameson and his sister I intend to torture with my singing. I’ll let them choose which songs I am to perform.”

  She glanced up at the oak tree as the leaves began to rustle above them, reminding her that Charles and Harry were listening to their every word, and likely preparing to pepper them with acorns. “You had better be off for the Admiralty. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

  “I’ll be thinking of you,” he said with a chuckle, looking as though he wanted to wrap her in his arms and kiss her with delightful thoroughness. He wouldn’t with the children giggling above them and spying on their every move. “I hope all goes well with the Duke of Lotheil and the Royal Society.”

  “I’ll be thinking of you as well. Are you certain the Admiralty has no surprises in store for you?”

  She noticed the fleck of hesitation in his eyes, quickly covered up by a devastatingly appealing smile. “No surprises, Violet. My ship is not yet seaworthy. I doubt they’ll assign me another.”

  But Violet felt a tug to her heart.

  Why did she feel as though her time with Romulus was running out?

  Chapter Twelve

  Violet had been standing in the entry hall for the last twenty minutes, peering out the front window. It was now four o’clock and still no sign of Romulus. She had so much to tell him, and was worried something had gone wrong at the Admiralty.

  Had he been given command of another ship?

  “Miss Violet,” Pruitt said, clearing his throat, “you’ll be more comfortable waiting with Lady Dayne and your aunt in the parlor. Captain Brayden won’t turn up any sooner by your staring out the window.”

  She smiled at the Farthingale butler. “I know. I can’t help it.” She wanted to say it wasn’t like him to be late, but how would she know whether Romulus was the punctual sort or not? Moments like these were reminders of how little she really knew him. Yet, at the same time, she felt as though she’d known him forever. “Oh, thank goodness! There he is. I see him coming up the walk now.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief and hurried to throw open the door.

  Pruitt groaned lightly behind her.

  “Training a new butler, Pruitt? A very pretty one,” Romulus teased, obviously surprised to find her throwing open the door. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, still dressed in his uniform and looking incredibly handsome. “The summons to the Admiralty turned out to be more involved than I expected. I’ll tell you about it later. Is Lady Dayne with you?”

  She nodded. “She’s in the parlor with Aunt Sophie.”

  Pruitt had left them to notify Lady Dayne. They now stood alone in the entry hall, but would only have a moment to speak before they were interrupted. “Violet,” Romulus said with a whispered ache to his voice as he bent his head toward her.

  Before she knew it, she was caught up in his arms and his warm lips were pressing against hers with unexpected urgency. There was something wonderful about his kisses, or perhaps she was simply so swept away by him that she was coming to crave him as much as one might crave air.

  She circled her arms around his neck, feeling the prick of his medals against her arm and the heat of his body now molded to hers.

  She liked that he was hungry for her, the crush of his lips intense and unexpectedly ravenous. But what had happened at the Admiralty?

  Before she knew it, he drew away, leaving her lips tingling and her heart yearning for more. “Have you been assigned a new vessel? What is it, Romulus?”

  His groan was one of helpless frustration. “They want me back in Cornwall by the end of–” He cut off abruptly as Lady Dayne and Pruitt joined them.

  By the end of what?

  Violet stifled her own frustration, knowing they would have no chance to speak in his carriage unless he chose to confide in Lady Dayne as well. Although there was no question of the kindly dowager’s discretion, Violet was disappointed when Romulus chose not to say a word on the subject. Instead, he directed the conversation to a dozen trivial topics, purposely avoiding mention of his return to Cornwall. When was it to be? By the end of tomorrow? End of the week? End of the month?

  She could not suppress her concern. What was so sensitive he could not discuss it in front of Lady Dayne?

  She hoped they’d have the chance to talk while at his aunt’s tea party, but she quickly realized this was not going to happen. The moment they entered Lady Grayfell’s townhouse, Violet was descended upon by giants who turned out to be Brayden cousins.

  She thought Romulus was the size and brawn of a Roman gladiator, but even at his strapping height and incredibly muscled strength, he was considered the runt of the litter. Finn, Joshua, Ronan, and Tynan were barely taller than Romulus, but the way they teased him, one would think they were head and shoulders above him.

  They were all handsome men, to be sure. But none compared to Romulus. She could not have designed a more perfect male. Everything from the waves of his golden hair, to his exquisite green eyes, and masculine face, to his big, rugged warrior body was perfection.

  But it was more than that. He was kind, protective, and took his family’s jests in good humor.

  How could she not melt when in his presence?

  “Is this Violet?” Lady Miranda asked, embracing her without thought of waiting for a proper introduction.

  Violet was hauled against the imposing woman’s bosom, clutched so tightly she could hardly breathe. Her embrace was obviously meant as a sign of affection, even if embarrassingly uncomfortable. “Let go of her, Aunt Miranda. You’ll suffocate my betrothed,” Romulus said with a laughing shake of his head.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Rom.” But Miranda eased her grip and allowed Violet to draw away. She was almost as tall and most definitely as strong as any of the Brayden men.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you,” Violet said, feeling like a child among them. The size of this family! Fortunately, Sophie and Abigail, the wives of James and Tynan, were also present and came forward to greet her.

  The three of them were of similar height, and Violet could only imagine how they must have felt when first meeting these Brayden men.

  “I cannot believe one of my tadpoles is betrothed.” Lady Miranda gave Violet another hug, th
is time thankfully brief. However, Violet was not free of her grasp yet. Romulus’s aunt took her by the shoulders and gently turned her around to inspect her. “Rom, you’ve made a fine choice. I like your Violet. What a pretty girl you are, my dear.”

  Romulus cast his aunt a wry grin. “She’s a wonder, Aunt Miranda. Smart, beautiful, and she sings, too. You’ve never heard anything like it. She has the voice of an angel.”

  Violet wasn’t used to so many people, other than Farthingale family members, staring at her all at once. Of course, the family would all gather around the piano at Christmastide and listen as she sang, but most of these Braydens were still strangers to her.

  She blushed as all of them continued to regard her as though she was a pet in a zoo. “Your nephew is exaggerating, of course.”

  Romulus arched an eyebrow. “I am not. If anything, I am understating your talent.”

  One of the giants stepped forward and introduced himself as Finn. His hair was darker than Romulus’s, and his eyes were a magnificent mix of gray and green. “I’m looking forward to your recital, Miss Farthingale. Do you know yet where it shall be held?”

  “Oh, please call me Violet,” she said with a nod. “The Duke of Lotheil has consented to our use of the new Royal Society hall. It is a magnificent addition to the building’s structure. I think we’ll draw a good crowd there.”

  Finn grinned. “With you singing? You’d draw a crowd anywhere. The hall will be packed.”

  She laughed in surprise, appreciating his confidence, but knowing he was only being polite. “How can you be so certain? You haven’t heard me sing yet.”

  “But Romulus has. He hates all manner of musical entertainments, thinks most of the debutantes who perform at these functions are insipid. He cringes at the mere thought. But he isn’t cringing when he speaks of you. If he claims you have the voice of an angel, then I am sure you do.”

  “Will you sing for us?” Joshua asked.

  Ronan poked him in the ribs. “Shut up, you dolt. She’s our guest. It isn’t right to put her to work.” He bowed politely over Violet’s hand. “Ignore my ape of a brother. You needn’t sing for your supper.”

  She thanked him, feeling somewhat relieved. However, she knew she would have to get over her shyness when it came to singing to strangers, for the Royal Society hall would be a crush if Finn’s assessment was correct.

  She took a moment to thank Finn for agreeing to hold the funds.

  “My pleasure, Violet. I’m delighted to help out for a good cause. It’s very easy to get caught up in the whirl of wealth and power concentrated in London. But what use is amassing that wealth if it is merely to be kept locked away? I like that we are working toward helping the orphanage.”

  Lady Miranda cut in when the dinner bell rang. “Enough, boys. Give Violet some room to breathe.”

  Before Romulus could offer his arm to escort her in, Sophie and Abigail came to her side. “Ignore the men. Walk in with us,” Abigail said. “I’d love to hear more about your charity recital. How can we help?”

  She turned to Romulus, who merely smiled at her and shrugged.

  James arched an eyebrow when Sophie ignored his outstretched arm. “Seems my wife has no desire to be with me this evening. Lady Dayne, may I escort you to the table?”

  Tynan escorted Lady Miranda in, although Violet suspected his mother needed no one’s assistance. She was a beautiful woman, but definitely capable of defeating a regiment of enemy soldiers all on her own.

  Violet liked this about her immensely.

  She also enjoyed the dinner table banter between Romulus and his cousins. Although they were obviously on their best behavior, and did feel comfortable with her and Lady Dayne present, they did lapse once or twice into rougher language that brought a stern frown to Lady Miranda’s brow. “The eight of them were impossible as boys. Wildebeests, you know.”

  James leaned over and smiled at her. “But among ourselves, we also referred to the younger cousins, Romulus included, as tadpoles. Caleb was the squid.”

  Violet laughed. “And what were you, my lord?”

  “Good heavens, call me James. I,” he said with a wink at his wife, “was the embodiment of perfection. I needed no pet name. Nor did Marcus and Tynan. It was only the younger brothers who required them. You should have seen them when they were boys. Caleb was all arms and legs.”

  She nodded in comprehension. “Ah, hence the name Squid.”

  “Rom, Finn, Joshua, and Ronan were skinny, ill-behaved nuisances with spindly legs that could barely hold them up. They were always hopping about, always underfoot.”

  She nodded again. “Tadpoles. Obviously.”

  James smiled at her. “Exactly.”

  Romulus sat back and listened to her jesting exchange with his brother. She could see the relief and joy glistening in his eyes as he watched them chatting. Perhaps she’d also imbibed a little too much wine, for every time Romulus looked at her, she felt a rush of heat through her body.

  She knew she’d imbibed too much when the family gathered in Lady Miranda’s parlor after supper and Romulus’s cousins goaded her into singing a song. “Choose one we know, and we’ll sing along with you,” Joshua said.

  She chose a country ballad about a frog who went courting, knowing only Romulus would get the full meaning in her choice. He was not only one of the Brayden tadpoles, he was her test frog as well. Without musical accompaniment of piano or harp, she and his cousins sang about the bullfrog wooing his female frog love. His cousins held their sides, laughing hysterically when Violet sang the female frog verses to Romulus in a lovingly seductive croak.

  Even Romulus laughed heartily.

  Sophie and Abigail cheered.

  Miranda gave her another suffocating hug when the evening was over, and it was time for Romulus to escort her and Lady Dayne back to Chipping Way. Romulus assisted Lady Dayne into his carriage and then put his hands around Violet’s waist to help her up. “Lord, you’re beautiful,” he whispered. “But you’ve also had a little too much to drink.”

  She meant to deny it, but the carriage seemed to spin in front of her, and his touch immediately turned her blood fiery. “I–”

  She hiccupped.

  Romulus settled her securely, making certain her back was firmly resting against the squabs before he released her. But she wasn’t so drunk that she did not notice the twitch of his shapely mouth in amusement or the heated look in his eyes as his gaze raked over her body. He was no less affected in touching her than she was in experiencing his touch.

  The way his hands had curled around her waist and lingered, she knew he desired her with fiery passion. Since they were both burning with desire, she wondered if he could be convinced to explore that passion further.

  Had they been alone in the carriage, Violet would have leaped onto his lap and smothered him with kisses the moment the carriage drew away from Miranda’s gate. She supposed this was why young ladies were never permitted out of their homes without a chaperone.

  She sat beside Lady Dayne, so that her kindly neighbor could not see the unrestrainedly heated glances she was casting at Romulus. But he could see them. The look he cast back turned her body into an incandescent flame.

  Good heavens! This man!

  Fortunately, Romulus was not nearly as giddy as she was, so he chatted amiably with Lady Dayne for the rest of their short journey. When the carriage reached Chipping Way, he dropped Lady Dayne home first, and then walked Violet next door to return her to her uncle’s house. They’d just closed the front gate behind them when Romulus took her in his arms and kissed her with enough steam to make her toes curl.

  It was a deep, intensely hungry kiss that would have had the family shotguns out and pointed at his head if ever they were caught. His hands roamed over her body, but despite her befogged state, she realized he was not merely pawing her but memorizing every curve, every nuance of her body, as though he wanted to etch her into his brain.

  No…into his heart.


  The kiss was one of desperation and longing. It wasn’t merely an I-want-you kiss. No, this kiss was a farewell kiss.

  It could only mean he was leaving her soon. There was no other possible explanation. He had been called back to duty and ordered to leave before the week was out. Tipsy as she was, she understood the import of his kiss.

  “Romulus,” she said breathlessly when he took his lips off hers and began to trail kisses along the curve of her neck, pausing to suckle on a sensitive spot just below her ear. “Oh, my.”

  She sighed in delight, only to return to her senses a moment later. “You must tell me.”

  “Tell you what?” He drew her body closer so they were molded to each other. She felt the heat and yearning building between them.

  “About the meeting at the Admiralty. I am not so foggy-brained I’ve forgotten.” But she was certainly in danger of losing her reason as he continued to suckle the sensitive spot on her neck. If any girl needed a chaperone right now, it was her. She would have allowed him to take her right here on the grass, the ache she felt for him was that strong. “What happened? You must tell me, Romulus. No secrets between us.”

  He sighed and reluctantly stopped nibbling her neck. “They’ve assigned me to another ship. Marry me tomorrow, Violet.”

  She blinked, the comment sobering her quickly. “Tomorrow? Why?”

  “Because it may be only a matter of a few hours before I’m ordered to leave London.”

  “For Cornwall?”

  She felt every bit of his frustration, for his tension seeped into her bones as he continued to hold her. It was as though he feared to let her go, needing to keep himself anchored so neither of them could float away. “I’m told I will be given command of The Song of the Ocean.”

  “What does this mean?” She understood the jest in a ship having the word ‘Song’ in it, but there was more significance to the name.