She forced herself off the floor and lumbered to her writing desk, pulled quill and paper from the drawer and began to write down names of gentlemen and their qualities.
A couple of hours later, with sheaves of paper lay strewn across her bed, surrounding her in a tomb of names and forced decisions, she contemplated the list she had constructed. She wasn't in love with any of the men, but each gentleman met her criteria. None were gamblers or imbibed, there were no scandals attached to their name - her family made up for that in spades - and most importantly, none were rakes.
As satisfied as she could be under the circumstances, she turned her attention to her sketchbook. She only had three months to sketch all the things she loved around her. Three months to sustain her for the rest of her life.
Stolen Kisses from the Viscount: Chapter Two
"IT WON'T BE TOO TERRIBLE," AVELINE'S reflection in her dressing mirror tried to convince her as she added the finishing touches to her hair. She didn't believe herself.
She used to enjoy balls and soirees, but the luster from her second season had dulled. And now with Lord Redgrave's ultimatum, the thought of being out in society was even less appealing.
"You have no choice, Aveline. Remember how much Uncle Arnulf and Aunt Winnie love you and have taken care of you. You need to do this for them." She stamped down any further fears. With her words of encouragement to herself in place, she rose to retrieve her list of acceptable gentlemen. She was hoping to narrow the list of a dozen dull men down to half this evening.
Returning to her dressing table and leaning both elbows on its dark wood surface, she cupped her face and stared at her reflection in the mirror once more. She had her mother's blue-grey eyes and her father's wavy blonde hair, but she did not feel like she belonged to either of them. A heavy sigh of regret coursed through her body. All she had ever wanted was her parents' love, but they had always been far too consumed with arguing to even notice when she was present. And now it was too late.
No sense in dwelling in the past, she reminded herself. She had a future to worry about. Picking up her favorite light blue silk reticule, she rose and trudged toward the drawing room, and what felt like her doom.
"Oh, Aveline, you look lovely this evening," Aunt Winnie exclaimed with giddy excitement. "I just know you will catch the eye of some handsome gentleman."
Aveline simply smiled at her aunt. She knew Aunt Winnie was attempting to lighten the situation and she loved her all the more for it.
"Your uncle is resting now, but looks forward to hearing all about the evening later. We mustn't tarry." Aunt Winnie headed for the door with such excitement one would have thought this was her first season. "This is going to be a splendid evening. Lady Trumble has always hosted magnificent events for each of her daughters, and tonight promises to be unparalleled with her youngest daughter having entered society."
Aveline did not believe her aunt came up for air during the carriage ride and her ramblings only continued while they waited to be announced. However, once inside conversation became near on impossible as a combination of music, conversation, and gaiety penetrated the walls. The crush was quite extreme and Aveline could not help but wonder if anyone had actually declined Lady Trumble's invitation.
Hoping to retreat to a quiet corner, she turned away from the ballroom and came face to face with Mr. Fleming, a notorious fortune hunter if there ever was one. "May I have this dance, Miss Redgrave?"
Aveline could not very well refuse. She accepted his hand with reluctance, but did not pay any attention to his boasting about his prospering country estate. She knew otherwise. Mr. Fleming's money woes had appeared in the Gazette two weeks previous.
No sooner had one dance ended and Aveline was returned to her aunt, then she was asked to dance by another. She knew her popularity was centered on two facts: her immense dowry and her uncle's ultimatum, which had already begun to make the gossip rounds. Despite the number of men who had tried to catch her fancy in the past, none had captured her heart. She was not going to marry a man who was only interested in her wealth. She would not make the same mistake her mother had made.
By the time the fourth set finished, she had endured enough. Claiming fatigue, she retreated to the refreshment room with her aunt. Fortunately two seats off to one side, and a short distance from the main crush were still available. She preferred to sit off to the side; it gave her the opportunity to view and watch those around her.
While her aunt was preoccupied noticing what every young lady was wearing, Aveline glanced about further surveying her options.
Mr. Graunt, a rather large man with a horrid complexion and even worse teeth, was attempting to garner attention from any female who was within ten feet. Aveline shuddered. No, he would not do.
Lord Buxton's boisterous laugh ricocheted from across the room, drawing her attention. He was engaged in a lively conversation with Mr. Hughlot. She did not have to even think twice about Lord Buxton. He was a rake and a gambler, and far too similar to her late father.
Mr. Hughlot, on the other hand, was quite the gentleman: polite, well dressed, and an excellent dancer. There was no gossip or scandal surrounding his name. The only problem was he never had shown any interest in Aveline, or any other member of the fairer sex for that matter. Another name crossed off. One by one her list of eligible gentlemen was diminishing. With only three months to secure a proposal, time was of the essence.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Lord Leybourne, who sauntered into the room commanding attention with his Corinthian presence. Look away, she commanded herself. Focus on the gentlemen from your list.
But her attention strayed back to Lord Leybourne. He was far too handsome and the only man who had ever turned her head. Ever since he'd asked her to dance in her first season, he had occupied her dreams far too often… delicious dreams where he… she shook the thought from her mind. He was a rake and precisely the sort of man she intended never to marry. She would only allow him to enter her dreams but never her heart.
Aunt Winnie kept her gaze straight but leaned slightly into Aveline and whispered, "Lord Leybourne is walking this way, dearest."
Aveline's heart stopped for a brief second before it began pounding wildly against her chest.
"Good evening, Lady Jagger, Miss Redgrave." He flashed a smile before turning his deep brown eyes on her. "May I have the next dance?"
Before her mind could protest Aveline stood and accepted his arm. Warmth instantly careened through her body, colliding with irritation. She was vexed with her eager response. She would have to try harder to maintain her composure and not fall victim to his irresistibly devastating smile and disarming dimples.
Lord Leybourne guided her through the crush, not brushing a single person. It seemed as if everyone parted to let him pass. She suspected his impressive height, broad shoulders and Adonis-like good looks contributed to his popularity.
"What diversions have you discovered this season, Miss Redgrave?"
"Nothing new, Lord Leybourne." Remember he is a rake; don't let him affect you. She gazed off into the distance and began her rehearsed speech. "It is always the same every year, dancing, routs, the theatre, and gossip." And gossip. Would it ever end? The words poured from her mouth in an uncontrollable flow. "The gossip never ends until you're dead, and then it is passed on to the next generation. There is no peace. There is never any peace." Aveline blinked several times realizing how much she had just revealed of herself.
"I know what it feels like to be buried under the weight of the gossip."
"You do?"
"Yes." His eyes were filled with compassion and understanding. Something intimate charged between them.
The room around them disappeared when the first chords of the set began. They danced in silence following the required movements, but every time their eyes met, Aveline felt as if there was some secret communication only her body understood. His gaze was a soft caress that confused her mind and made her body tingle.
When the dance ended, Lord Leybourne held her gaze for several seconds. All thoughts centered on him alone. His deep brown eyes and lopsided smile made her insides do somersaults. She wanted to reach up and…
Oh dear Lord. She vowed she must control her thoughts.
"Shall I escort you back to your aunt?" His tone teased with another unspoken option, or perhaps it was just her imagination.
She nodded her head. He escorted her back to her chaperone, bowed and said, "I enjoyed our dance. Till we meet again."
AVELINE WAS ENJOYING A PEACEFUL MORNING after an exuberant, yet tedious, evening full of dancing, people watching, and narrowing her list. Resting her head against the plush sofa, she closed her aching eyes hoping to find relief, but instead was teased with images of Leybourne. One dance in the arms of a handsome rake and she was lost. His deep voice taunted her dreams and waking hours promising untold pleasures.
"This just arrived for you, dearest." Aveline opened her eyes to see Aunt Winnie standing in front of her, with a letter in hand. It was best she pushed those other thoughts out the window.
She took the missive, recognizing the writing immediately. The devil take him! On a sigh, she opened the letter and scanned the contents. Any peace she had been experiencing was washed away on a tide of unwanted overtures.
"Well, what does it say?" Aunt Winnie's features became more animated. Clearly her aunt knew whom the letter was from. Aveline supposed she would not be able to hide the contents for long.
"It would appear Lord Elsworth is going to be in London and would like to pay us a call in a sennight."
Not satisfied with Aveline's summarization, Aunt Winnie took the letter from her hand. "Dearest, I think you have misunderstood Lord Elsworth's intentions altogether." Giddiness poured from Aunt Winnie's mouth, "He has requested a private audience with you. I believe he intends to propose. When he spoke with your uncle last—"
"He approached Uncle Arnulf? Why didn't you say anything?" Aveline's heart sank. As if her life wasn't complicated enough already. She did not want to be courted by the likes of Lord Elsworth. He was amiable enough, but she did not trust him. Elsworth was too much like his father, a scoundrel if there ever was one.
"I didn't believe he was in earnest. You know how fickle young men can be and besides…" Aunt Winnie went off on some tangent while Aveline festered in despair. Instead of three months to find a husband, she felt as if her time had narrowed to a sennight. What was she to do?
"Dearest, are you listening?"
"I'm sorry Aunt Winnie, I suppose I'm still fatigued from last night."
"You will have time to rest for Lady Mayland's dinner party after we visit Lady Capers." Aunt Winnie glanced at the clock on the mantel. "We will leave in twenty minutes."
Thirty minutes later, Aveline found herself ensconced in Lady Capers's orange and gold drawing room. White lace doilies graced every horizontal surface, the walls were crowded with paintings, and despite the warm day a fire had been lit. From the moment they entered, Lady Capers had not stopped chattering on about the weather, her aching limbs, and the latest gossip. The room and company were an assault on Aveline's senses. Although they had just arrived, she wondered how long they must stay.
"Miss Redgrave." Her name was called as if she had just got in trouble. "Have you set your cap on Mr. Fleming?"
"I do not intend to set my cap on anyone." Aveline's firm statement earned her gasps and wide questioning eyes from Lady Capers, who then gaped at Aunt Winnie with disapproval. Aveline quickly amended her statement for the sake of her aunt. "Not yet, at least. The season is still quite young." She tried to make her tone light and sweet.
"I believe that is wise." Her aunt relaxed with Lady Capers' approving comment. "And besides, Mr. Fleming would only bring you misery." Lady Capers continued on, delineating Aveline's next course of action. "You should marry a man of good breeding with his own fortune. That is the best way to ensure happiness. With your dowry, one would think you have the luxury of choosing for love because there are no financial restrictions. You can never be too cautious in this matter."
Aveline sat, wishing she were anywhere but here, enduring the lecture with quiet grace. The woman never seemed to take in air while talking and was the self-appointed authority on all topics of conversation. For the life of her, Aveline could not understand why her sweet aunt would keep company with the likes of Lady Capers, but for as long as she could remember, Aunt Winnie had.
A landscape painting on the far wall caught Aveline's eye, dulling the conversation around her to a low hum. The vast open countryside and cloud-spotted sky looked so peaceful. Aveline wished she were there right now, relaxing against the oak tree, reading a book instead of counting down the seconds until they could leave.
"…Speaking of good family, did you hear about Lord Leybourne?"
Just the mention of his name sent delicious shivers down Aveline's spine. Why did he have to be the one man in all of London who made her want to throw caution to the wind? He had haunted her dreams for a couple of years, but when he had taken her hand last night and led her to the dance floor, her world had tipped on its side.
Their dance had discomposed her more than she was willing to admit to herself. She tried to push those thoughts further into the recess of her mind. He was a rake, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time. She was certain any gossip surrounding him must concern an actress, opera singer, or at the very least, a widow.
"No," Aunt Winnie gasped in anticipation.
"Well, after that unfortunate business with his father, the family retreated to the country and only just came out of mourning."
She had heard the many contradicting rumors but did not know what had happened. Aunt Winnie and Aveline leaned in with curious anticipation.
Lady Capers dragged out the silence, as was her wont whenever she wanted people's undivided attention or to reveal a piece of gossip.
"Don't keep us in suspense. Jacoba," Aunt Winnie pleaded. Aveline was quite taken aback by her aunt's tone and casual use of Lady Capers' given name.
Several more seconds passed before Lady Capers gave into Aunt Winnie's pleading. "One night, the old viscount was at Hell's Gaming House and lost a fortune." She shook her head several times before uttering, "It is really quite tragic. After his wife died he was never quite the same."
"What happened?" Aunt Winnie was practically on the edge of her seat.
"What happens to all good men…" Lady Capers leaned in and whispered, "they go mad." She leaned back in her seat with a sad sort of smile and placed her hand on her chest with much fanfare. "He was so distraught that he killed himself."
Aunt Winnie gasped behind her hand. "Oh no."
"And that is why Lord Leybourne detests gambling." At least that was one thing in Lord Leybourne's favor. Not that Aveline would ever consider him; he was still a rake after all.
"Has he recovered…what I mean to say…" Aunt Winnie fumbled with her words. She always loved to hear gossip, but was often embarrassed by her own eagerness. She had often said it was her greatest flaw. "Did he recover financially?"
"Yes. From what I hear, the estate is doing well and Lord Leybourne is now in the market for a wife to aid him with his sisters. He is quite devoted to his family." There was a gleam in her eyes and praise to her words that Aveline had never heard from Lady Capers before.
For reasons Aveline was unwilling to admit to herself, the information pleased her. Two things in his favor, plus Lord Leybourne was not in need of money.
Aunt Winnie shared her sentiments. "I'm glad to hear it. Lady Leybourne had often spoken highly of her son. Poor thing. She was just too young."
But he was still a rake. Aveline forced herself to remember that very important detail yet again.
The remaining half hour was spent listening to Lady Capers delineating her plans for renovating the rest of her London home. They were informed with great enthusiasm that she wished every room could be as pleasant as this orange and gold drawing room
.
"That was a most productive afternoon, wouldn't you say, dearest?" Aunt Winnie said as she ascended into the carriage.
Aveline was more confused than ever. Everything she had assumed about Lord Leybourne was not entirely accurate. There was a part of her that wanted to believe he was different and not quite the scoundrel she had thought him to be.
An image of her mother curled up on the floor beside an empty bottle of brandy, crying hysterically, heartbroken over Father's latest doxy, flashed through Aveline's mind.
No, she would not fall victim to Lord Leybourne's charms. She would keep her distance and remain levelheaded. It would be far too easy for her to succumb to the handsome viscount.
WHEN PATRICK HAD ACCEPTED Lady Mayland's invitation to dine a fortnight ago, his plans for the future had lain in ruins. He'd had no idea who the other guests might be or how he could use the evening to his benefit. Much to his surprise and delight, Miss Redgrave had not only been invited, but as Lady Mayland informed him shortly after his arrival, he would be paired with the far too enticing beauty. Since their dance last night, thoughts of all other women had faded from his mind, which was a good thing since he was supposed to stay clear of gossip.
He walked about the room conversing with this lord and that about topics he could not even recall, as his mind was too distracted by the presence of Miss Redgrave. Although she appeared deep in conversation with Miss White, every so often he caught her glancing his way before she would quickly turn away again.
Twenty minutes later, when dinner was called, Patrick was still at a loss as to how to proceed. In the past he would offer suggestive smiles and sexual innuendos, but Miss Redgrave was a lady and his goal was marriage, not scandal. He had no idea how to win a lady over without seduction.
"Miss Redgrave," he bowed his head as he greeted her. "We meet again. I believe we are paired together for dinner this evening."
Once Upon a True Love's Kiss Page 47
