A Convenient Bride for the Viscount (Preview)

Chapter One

Dorset, England, 1818

“Seraphina! For the love of our Lord – where are you?”

The frantic cry lingered in the air as Lavinia Langford trailed her mother and father down the corridors of their house, pushing open doors to rooms, the panic to find her sister growing with every passing second. Lavinia’s heart started fluttering like a wild bird, unable to believe that this was actually happening.

Today was Seraphina’s wedding day … and the bride was missing.

“Did she leave the house early to go for a walk?” demanded her mother suddenly, turning wild eyes to her husband and younger daughter. “Did she slip out, and the maids did not see her …?”

Lavinia’s father looked grim – grimmer than Lavinia could ever recall seeing him. His face was white. He didn’t reply to his wife. He pushed past her, striding away and banging open a cupboard door as if he might find his errant oldest daughter crouching inside, as she had done often when just a small child.

Lavinia retreated, climbing the staircase to her chambers. Seraphina wasn’t in the house, and no matter how many times they searched it, they weren’t going to find her. Her head was spinning so much that she needed a break. But as she approached her chambers, she hesitated, staring at the door to her sister’s chambers, which were next to her own.

Slowly, she opened the door to that chamber and stepped inside. A breeze fluttered through a half crack in the window, lifting the hem of the beautiful peach lace wedding gown hanging on a hook on the wardrobe. The gown that was waiting for a bride who would never come. Lavinia knew it in her deepest soul. 

Seraphina wasn’t going to marry Jonathan Hamilton today. But the question was … why? Why had her elder sister done something so shocking and desperate?

Suddenly, Lavinia saw the letter on the desk. Her heart was clenched with emotion. It had slipped a little and was obscured by a pair of her sister’s gloves, which was probably why no one had seen it when they had first scoured the room.

She snatched the letter, her heart beating hard, tearing it open and reading it. After she finished, she closed her eyes. The die had been cast now … and there was no going back from this.

Gripping the letter, she rushed out of the room towards the staircase, leaning over the banister.

“Mama, Papa,” she called, her voice quivering. “Will you please come upstairs. There is something I need to show you.”

                                                                                    ***

“How could she have done this?” Mr Langford gripped the letter tightly in his hand, his face twisted with emotion. “How could she have done this to us? How could she have done this to the Hamilton family?”

Mrs Langford sat on the edge of Seraphina’s bed, clutching a lace handkerchief, dabbing  her eyes. She didn’t reply. Her eyes were cloudy and dazed.

Lavinia sat on the chair near her sister’s desk, placing a weary hand on her head, which was starting to ache. The door was firmly closed – there was only her and her parents in her sister’s room. This fraught scene was private, and no one wanted the servants overhearing it. 

“It was an honour to wed Jonathan Hamilton,” continued Mr Langford in an anguished voice. “The Hamilton family is one of the finest families in the district. And Seraphina has thrown it all away … to marry an officer of his majesty’s army!”

“She claims she is in love with the officer,” said Lavinia in a quiet voice. “She claims that she could not go through with the wedding when she is in love with another man, Papa.”

Her father rounded on her. “I know very well what she says,” he hissed, waving the letter in the air. “Seraphina has always been over-dramatic, given to histrionics, but I always believed that beneath it all, she had common sense.” His face twisted. “This letter proves that her head is in the clouds, well and truly.”

“We are ruined,” moaned Mrs Langford suddenly, gazing at her husband. “We will not be able to contain this scandal. Imagine the gossip once people realize the bride has run away from her own wedding to be with another man. It will spread like a forest fire.”

Lavinia’s heart tightened with distress. Her mother spoke the truth. They were all going to suffer from the fallout of her sister’s impulsive actions. They were probably going to be snubbed and reviled, sent into social purgatory. And who knew how long it would take to recover from it?

“It is going to be very difficult,” said Lavinia in a faltering voice. “But we are strong and will survive this.” She hesitated. “And as much as I try, I find I cannot be too angry with my sister … for she has done this terrible thing for the sake of true love.”

Her parents turned, gaping at her. There was a stunned silence.

“Perhaps you can be the one to break the news to Jonathan Hamilton then, daughter,” said her father, his voice edged in sarcasm. “I am certain that he will be resolved to this utterly when he realizes his bride deserted him on their wedding day for the sake of true love.”

Lavinia flushed, looking down at her hands, tightly clasped in her lap now. A wave of pity swept over her for Jonathan Hamilton. She didn’t know her sister’s fiancé particularly well, but he seemed a kind, decent man, as well as a handsome one. He was quiet, but that quietness contained much strength. Lavinia had believed he might be the perfect foil for her dramatic, highly strung sister, that he might settle Seraphina’s high spirits, which had always dominated the Langford house.

The poor man. He is going to be devastated. I do not know how strong his affection was for my sister, since the marriage was arranged, but his pride will be very dented, at the very least.

Lavinia took a deep breath. But even so, she still couldn’t muster anger against her sister for doing this. If Seraphina spoke the truth in the letter and said that she had only done this terrible thing out of desperation to be with the one she truly loved, then it was almost a noble action. Yes, everyone was hurt, and it would take time to heal. But Lavinia would never stand in the way of true love.

If only my sister and I were closer, she may have confided in me. Perhaps I might have been able to help her resolve this less dramatically. 

Lavinia sighed heavily. She and her sister were as different in nature as the sun from the moon. They had never been close, and they would probably never fully understand each other. But still … the sudden loss of Seraphina was like the exit of the lead actress from the stage. Life was going to be quite colourless and bland without her.

“What is done is done now,” said Mrs Langford suddenly, her face tightening. “Jonathan Hamilton is going to expect our eldest daughter to walk up the aisle in less than five hours. What on earth are we going to do, husband?”

“We have to tell him,” replied Mr Langford, shaking his head in disgust. “We cannot let him stand at the altar for a bride who is never going to arrive.”

Lavinia’s mother gave a low moan of distress. “As soon as we inform him, the word will be out,” she said, her voice bitter. “Everyone will know. We will not be able to contain it.”

“Everyone is going to know eventually anyway, wife,” retorted Mr Langford hotly. “We cannot sit on this forever! It is only a matter of time. We might as well rip off the bandage to expose the wound and be done with it.”

“You must inform Mr Hamilton soon, Papa,” said Lavinia, taking a deep breath. “Apart from anything else, he deserves to know as soon as possible. He is the one who is going to be affected by this more than anyone else.”

“I am well aware of that, Lavinia,” said her father through gritted teeth. “I wish to God I did not have to do this to the man … that there might be some solution, some way to turn this around …”

Suddenly, his voice trailed away. He was staring at Lavinia, his eyes widening. She shifted on the chair, feeling uncomfortable. It wasn’t often that she had her father’s full attention, and it always felt alien to her. 

“What is it, Papa?” she asked, swallowing hard. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You could marry him instead, Lavinia,” he said slowly, his eyes alight. “It would contain the scandal … after all, the identity of the bride does not matter.”

Lavinia gasped, unable to believe that her father had just uttered the words. She turned quickly to her mother, who was gazing at her husband as if he had suddenly lost his mind. She turned back to her father.

“Papa, you are overwrought …”

“Just hear me out,” interjected her father, putting his open palm in the air to halt her objection. His voice was filled with excitement now. “This was an arranged marriage, brokered between our family and Jonathan Hamilton’s grandmother. It was no love match. Therefore, it will not matter overly much if you take the place of your sister, Lavinia, in the long run.”

“But …”

“You would be doing this for the sake of our family’s honour, daughter,” he said, staring at her with a hard look on his face. “We will be ridiculed and despised, ostracized from decent society. You will never find a good match of your own now, anyway. The only chance you have is to agree to this and marry Mr Hamilton.”

Lavinia gasped, her stomach twisting into knots. She knew very well that her father was trying to manipulate her, but there was truth in what he said. She had always dreamed of a good match, but knew it was unlikely. 

She was the younger daughter of a fabric merchant and did not have much status in the eyes of society. The fact that her father had managed to broker a union between Seraphina and Jonathan Hamilton had been astonishing. The Hamilton family was one of the first families in the town, with great wealth and pedigree. One of Jonathan Hamilton’s great aunts was even a titled lady who owned a grand estate outside London and had tea with the queen.

Lavinia’s heart trembled with uncertainty. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that no man of worth would even consider her now. There had never been a strong chance of it, anyway, but with the fury of scandal enveloping her, the chance was next to nought now.

Unless she grasped the opportunity her father was offering and took her sister’s place beside Jonathan Hamilton at the altar today.

A cold sweat broke out over her body. Could she do such a thing? Was it even proper?

“I agree with my husband,” said her mother abruptly, looking at her younger daughter. “You are our only hope now, Lavinia. Please, do this for your family.”

Lavinia took a deep, ragged breath. Her mind was still spinning. She wiped her sweaty palms on the skirt of her gown.

“Very well,” she said, exhaling slowly. “I agree to this plan for the sake of our family’s honour … and for myself, as well.” She hesitated. “But you still need to persuade Mr Hamilton to this plan, Papa. He may not agree.”

Her father’s face was grim, set in a determined line. “I will head to Stanbury Park to speak with him now,” he said, turning to the door. “There is no time to tarry.”

He left the room, slamming the door behind him.  Lavinia pressed her face against the window, watching him mount his horse, taking off like the wind.

Slowly, she turned to her mother. Mrs Langford was weeping quietly now, her face twisted, looking so devastated that Lavinia’s heart quivered with emotion.

Lavinia fidgeted on the chair, turning to the clock on her sister’s mantle. Time was ticking. Would Papa persuade Mr Hamilton to marry her instead of her sister? Or was the flood of scandal about to wash over them all, tainting them forever?

Chapter Two

“Pardon?” Jonathan Hamilton gaped at the older man who stood in his study, not sure if he had heard him correctly. “What did you just say, Mr Langford?”

The merchant took a deep breath. “My daughter has fled the town, Mr Hamilton. She will not be marrying you today. She claims she is in love with an officer, and that is the reason for her doing such a shocking thing.” He faltered. “I am so very sorry, sir.”

Jonathan stood up quickly, pacing the room. Mr Langford just gazed at him sympathetically. A cold sweat broke out over his entire body. His mind was whirling so violently that he couldn’t make sense of anything.

He turned to the man. “I do not blame you for this, sir. I admire your family greatly.” His heart twisted. “And I would never stand in Seraphina’s way … if she truly loves another man. That would not be right at all.”

Seraphina has deserted me. I will not be marrying her today. She claims that she loves someone else. I thought she was fond of me. I thought she admired me.

His heart thumped hard. Pain swept over him, so intense that it felt physical. His hands tightened into fists at his side, trying to fight it and maintain decorum in front of the other man and not break down, howling, onto the floor.

He had been passionately in love with Seraphina. Even though the marriage had been arranged, the love for his betrothed had swept over him, utterly transforming him. He had been counting the days until this day. He had longed for it with the single-minded excitement of a child longing for Christmas Day.

And now, it was lying in ashes around his feet.

Seraphina is gone. There will be no wedding today.

Another pain stabbed his heart. He took a deep breath, turning to face the other man, his face tight and composed.

“I must tell my grandmother,” he said, his voice steady, with barely a quiver. “And we must inform the vicar.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I am grateful now that we decided upon a small wedding, with just family, and there are no other people to inform …”

“If I might speak further, sir,” said Mr Langford in an earnest voice. “I may have a solution to this problem to contain the inevitable scandal if you are willing to listen.”

“Go on,” said Jonathan grimly.

“I know that a gentleman of your position and age needs to marry,” continued Mr Langford in a crisp voice. “You have entered your middle twenties and need an heir, or else Stanbury Park will fall into the hands of a distant relative when you pass away, sir.”

Jonathan concealed his shock at the man’s words. Charles Langford had always been a plain speaker, but this was verging on brutal to hear his entire life’s purpose summed up in such a bald way. 

Still, the man spoke the truth. Stanbury Park was entailed to the male line of his family, and unless he produced a male heir, it would end up in the hands of his second cousin, Reginald … which really didn’t bear thinking about.

“I have a simple solution to the problem,” said Mr Langford. “I propose that you marry our younger daughter, Lavinia, instead. It would contain the certain scandal … and you would still acquire a wife today, sir.”

Jonathan jumped, gaping at the man. Had he just offered his youngest daughter in marriage? Had he just calmly told him that Seraphina’s sister would be a suitable substitute for her as if he was suggesting swapping partners in a dance?

His mind reeled with shock. He barely knew Seraphina’s sister – they had barely had a conversation. He forced himself to cast his mind upon her. Lavinia Langford was very quiet, with a calm demeanour, an observer rather than an active participant in life. 

Clearly, she lived in the shadow of her more extroverted, colourful sister. Still, he liked her. She exuded a tranquil air, which gave her a wisdom surpassing her mere twenty years, and she was almost as beautiful as her older sister, with golden red hair, clear, intelligent pale green eyes, and a round, almost angelic face. Seraphina’s beauty was flamboyant – whereas Lavinia’s was far more subtle. 

His heart twisted with anguish. Lavinia Langford was lovely … but how could he marry her instead of Seraphina, who was the only woman he could ever love? Apart from anything else, how could he do that to Lavinia, always knowing she had been second best?

He stiffened as a memory of him with Seraphina assailed him, washing over him so vividly he couldn’t breathe for a moment.

He was watching her walk ahead of him in the town park as they promenaded together, admiring her beauty, her tall, elegant figure. The wind suddenly caught her bonnet, whisking it into the air, catching it, sending it flying like a bird. Seraphina gasped, putting a hand to her head, her blue eyes shining. She started laughing breathlessly as both of them chased it, bumping heads, before it suddenly flew into the lake, settling on the surface before sinking to the bottom.

“Well, that was just the most amusing thing,” she said, still breathless, her hands on her hips, her eyes sliding to him. “Do you think we could buy another bonnet … and do this again?”

“I appreciate your offer, sir,” he said eventually. “I understand your desire to contain the scandal. But it is not a simple matter …”

“If I may protest, sir,” interjected Mr Langford, his eyes solemn. “I think it a very simple matter indeed … or rather, that we do not need to overcomplicate it.” He paused. “You need a wife. Lavinia needs a husband. Seraphina is gone. We can salvage this – both of us can walk away today with what we want – and avoid scandal in the process.”

Jonathan shook his head incredulously. Charles Langford had a reputation as a fine businessman with a logical, analytical mind … which he was applying to this situation. He would never suspect that the man’s eldest daughter had just run away from home. The man was so composed and efficient … in a rather bloodless way. Did he have any emotion in his heart at all?

“How does your younger daughter feel about this proposal?” he asked eventually. “What has she said?”

“Lavinia has agreed to it,” said Mr Langford quickly. “She understands the situation clearly.” His eyes were bright, assessing Jonathan carefully. “She will make you a fine wife, sir. Lavinia may be quieter in nature compared to her older sister, but she is clever and competent.  I assure you she will be a fine mistress of your home.”

“Indeed,” said Jonathan, to hide his shock more than anything. There was a long pause. “Are you quite certain Lavinia is agreeable to the idea?”

There was another long pause. Mr Langford gazed at him steadily.

“Why not accompany me back to my home and ask her yourself?” said the man. “You can ask her anything you like. It cannot hurt … can it?”

                                                                                     ***

An hour later, Lavinia still felt as if she were in the midst of a dream when summoned to the drawing room. Jonathan Hamilton was standing at the window, gazing out, but turned when she entered, staring at her. She took in his tall, athletic frame, the wavy dark hair that curled at the nape of his neck, and those clear, direct blue eyes, as clear as the sky on a summer’s day. There was no doubt he was a handsome man.

There was an awkward silence.

“I am so very sorry, Mr Hamilton,” she said in a faltering voice. “I apologize on behalf of my sister for what Seraphina has done to you.”

He nodded. “You do not need to apologize, Miss Langford,” he replied, his blue eyes flickering over her. “You are not responsible for your sister’s actions.”

Lavinia smiled tentatively. She didn’t know how to proceed at all – she didn’t know him well enough to gauge his feelings. He appeared composed and unruffled, which was truly astounding in the circumstances. Either Jonathan Hamilton didn’t care that much about her sister … or he was a very good actor indeed.

He might be suffering from shock, which can make a person behave in odd ways. And he has always struck me as singularly self-possessed.

Lavinia glanced at the door, which had been left wide open. She knew her parents were loitering in the hallway. The only reason they were not in the room chaperoning them was because they wanted to give her and Mr Hamilton the illusion of privacy. 

This is the strangest situation of my life. My sister’s betrothed – who she would have married in a few hours – is now my suitor and will be my husband if we agree on the matter. How has it come to this?

Lavinia tried to push the disconcerting thought aside. The speed of it all was making her head spin again. She just wanted to lie down in a darkened room with a cloth over her eyes and forget about everything.

She took a deep breath. She knew she couldn’t do that. There was too much at stake. A fact Mr Hamilton obviously realized, as well, or he wouldn’t be standing in this room with her. He would never have agreed to even meet with her otherwise.

“I understand this is difficult for you,” he said hesitantly. “It is difficult for everyone.” He blinked rapidly. “I must know your feelings on this matter … if you are truly agreeable to marrying me in place of your sister.”

“I am agreeable to marrying you, sir,” she replied, a hot flush creeping over her face. “In fact, I would be honoured.”

He looked surprised. “Oh … well, the honour would be entirely mine,” he said, coughing into his hand. “I promise you that if you become my wife, I will treat you well and that you will want for nothing.” He paused, frowning. “I also vow to you that I shall try to protect you from the worse effects of the coming scandal, Miss Langford … for there will still be a scandal, though hopefully the impact will be lessened if we wed.”

Lavinia’s flush deepened. For some reason, she was moved by the calm, measured way he had made the declaration. It was hardly the passionate outpouring of love she had once dreamed about when she was a girl, but there was some emotion there, even if she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it exactly was.

“Thank you,” she replied, a warm glow overtaking her. “I must ask you the same question now, Mr Hamilton – are you quite agreeable to marrying me?”

He looked surprised again. “Of course. You are perfectly lovely. I am certain you will settle well at Stanbury Park and run it splendidly.”

Lavinia’s heart flipped in her chest. The feeling of unreality swept over her again. Stanbury Park was one of the grandest estates in the district – she had often admired it when she was walking with her mother as a young girl, peering through the imposing iron gates, wondering what it would be like to live in such a mansion. 

And now, through the most inexplicable chain of events, she was about to find out.

“So,” he said, taking out a pocket watch and glancing at it quickly. “We are in agreement, then, that you shall marry me in a few hours, Miss Langford?”

“Yes,” she said in a breathless voice. “I will marry you, Mr Hamilton.” She paused. “Although, if we are to be wed, we should probably call each other by our Christian names. Do you not agree?”

He laughed. “Of course. Please, call me Jonathan.”

“And I am Lavinia,” she said, laughing with him. 

They gazed at each other, their eyes meeting across the room. It seemed ludicrous to be laughing in these odd circumstances, but it was also a relief, breaking the tension.

He crossed the room, reaching out and taking her hand. His eyes looked impossibly blue in the light slanting through the window. 

“Lavinia,” he repeated, pronouncing each syllable carefully. “It is a lovely name.” He hesitated. “I will see you at the church, then.”

“You will,” she replied. “I promise you.”

There was another awkward pause. Quickly, he dropped her hand, bowing slightly, before leaving the room. She heard him talking with her parents in the hallway, their voices receding, as her father led him to his study.

Lavinia sagged. In a few hours, she would be Mrs Jonathan Hamilton. The agreement had been made. It was too late now to change her mind. She would marry him. Seraphina might impulsively run away to follow her heart, but Lavinia’s word was her bond. She would never break it.

Her heart twisted. And as for romantic love … well, she had never really expected such a thing in this life, anyway.