A Scandalous Agreement with an Earl (Preview)

Chapter One

“Ugh, just look at them, all grinning as if there is actually something to grin about.” Vivianne Marie DeCourcy spoke her mind, as always. It didn’t matter whether there was only her younger sister to hear her or the ton in its entirety. “Like oblivious sheep to the slaughter.” 

“Vivianne!” her younger sister Aurelia Anne exclaimed. Although Aurelia was used to her unconventional wording, sometimes, she knew, it was simply too much. “Sheep? Seriously? Someone might overhear you.” 

“So?” Vivianne shrugged, looking about. She didn’t see a single person whose opinion mattered enough for her to choose her wording more carefully. 

The ballroom was a vision of elegance, bathed in the soft glow of countless chandeliers whose crystal facets caught the light to cast a shimmering radiance over the assembled guests. The walls were adorned with opulent draperies in rich hues of burgundy and gold, their sumptuous folds creating a regal backdrop for the evening’s festivities.

At the center of the room, couples twirled gracefully across the polished wooden floor, their movements perfectly synchronized to the strains of a delicate waltz played by a skilled ensemble of musicians. The melody floated through the air, light and enchanting, setting the perfect tone for the evening.

The ton were out in full force, resplendent in their evening attire. The ladies wore gowns of silk and satin in a spectrum of vibrant colors, skirts billowing as they danced. Jewels sparkled at their throats and wrists, catching the light with every movement. Intricate hairstyles, adorned with feathers and ribbons, framed their glowing faces.

The gentlemen, not to be outdone, were impeccably dressed in tailcoats and breeches, their cravats tied with precision. Polished boots tapped lightly on the floor as they led their partners in graceful arcs and turns, their expressions a mix of concentration and enjoyment.

That was, at least, how Vivianne’s sister viewed the entire charade of artificial smiles and superficial politeness. Vivianne herself couldn’t understand all the commotion. Everyone was there, pretending to be kinder than they actually were, more caring than they actually were, pretending to be something they were not. 

She couldn’t help but scoff loudly, not caring one bit whether someone might overhear her. Her reputation as a willing future spinster had already followed her wherever she went, much to her mother’s shock and disappointment. But Vivianne didn’t care about that. She had promised herself that she would not let anyone make a fool of her ever again, and it was a promise she intended to keep. 

“Be nice,” she heard her sister say as she leaned closer to Vivianne. 

“I am only here because of you, you know that,” Vivianne reminded her. “I would follow you to the end of the world, Aurelia, but you cannot make me like these people.”

“I know you don’t like them,” Aurelia said softly, placing her hand on Vivianne’s. “But perhaps you could be… less vocal about it?”

“Yes, you could be less vocal about many things, my dear.” The gentle voice of their mother appeared from somewhere behind them, and the two girls turned around at the same time to meet her. “If I could overhear your conversation, you can rightfully assume that anyone could.” 

“What I am saying is no secret, Mother,” Vivianne said simply, with a dismissive half-shrug. 

“You always prefer the truth, we have come to know that well,” Mary-Anna Susanne DeCourcy, the wife of the Viscount DuPont, said with exasperation in her voice. “But I keep reminding you that the true traits of a lady are manners, kindness, and the knowledge of when the truth is just too much.” 

Vivianne sighed. While her mother did not lack common sense, what she did lack was reason when it came to her husband. Even after all those years of being married to Vivianne’s father, the woman was still madly in love with him, ready to follow him on any venture, even the poverty they were so desperate to hide from the rest of the world. That was why she was so relentless about her daughters securing good marriages that season—because the fate of the entire family rested on the shoulders of their daughters.  

“You have such a beautiful smile, Viv,” her mother urged tenderly, caressing her cheek with her bejeweled hand. 

They’d had to sell some of her mother’s jewelry, and it had had to be done in secret, so that it was not known who was the seller. Things were becoming more and more serious with each passing day, as her father’s gambling debt from several years back only seemed to grow. As a man led by emotion rather than logic, a trait not usually pertaining to a man, he was easily swayed into lending money to friends in need, when he was supposed to have been saving it and applying it to his debts, leading them to the undesirable situation they were in at the moment. 

“You should really smile more,” her mother added. “Be more… approachable. Allow someone to get to know you first, before you throw an avalanche of truths upon them.”

Vivianne resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. “At least you have one good daughter, Mother. None of that is difficult for Aurelia. Her dance card is already full and we’ve only been here an hour.” 

“I will not hear you speak like that,” her mother scolded with a shake of her head. “I have two good daughters, one of whom is slightly more… rebellious and stubborn, that is all.” 

Vivianne smiled at her mother’s choice of words. After all, she and her sister had grown up in a family where they lacked nothing. All their wishes were granted the moment they spoke them out loud. However, even with all that wish fulfilment, Vivianne had grown up into a lady who had a good head on her shoulders, able to differentiate between right and wrong. 

Just as she was about to respond to her mother, Vivianne was suddenly beset by her worst nightmare: a man by the name of Thomas Cole Fairfax, otherwise known as the Earl of Kinsington. 

“Lady Vivianne,” he said the moment he laid eyes on her, and she always felt as if a frog licked her after those looks he gave her. She shuddered at the sound of his voice, desperately wishing she could find a way out of the situation, but her mother wouldn’t forgive her for insulting the only man of the entire ton who was still interested in her. 

“My dear ladies, I must say that out of all the crême de la crême in attendance this evening, you three shine like the three graces. There is beauty.” 

He bowed before Aurelia, who blushed upon being called beautiful, while Lord Kinsington kissed her hand courteously. 

“Charm,” he continued, turning toward their mother, who chuckled as she offered her bejeweled hand for him to kiss. “And my favorite… grace,” he concluded, facing Vivianne, his eyes sinking into her very essence as he almost grabbed her hand and pulled it toward his lips, which lingered on it for a moment longer than they ought to have. 

“Oh, Lord Kinsington, always such a charmer.” Lady DuPont chuckled sweetly, pressing her hand to her lips as a lady ought to laugh, without revealing her teeth. 

“How can one not be a charmer when in the presence of muses?” Lord Kinsington wondered, while Vivianne did her best not to roll her eyes and find anything that even remotely resembled an excuse to relieve herself of the man’s presence. 

While he continued to exchange the usual pleasantries with her mother, he exuded an air of aristocracy. His charm was undeniable, at least to those who didn’t know him as well as Vivianne did, and his money provided him with a better reputation than he actually deserved. However, at two-and-forty years of age, he was still unmarried. While everyone had attributed that fact to him being rather choosy, the truth was that Lord Kinsington simply did not have a limit when it came to anything in his life, whether that was food, drink, or worse yet, women. 

Vivianne had heard stories of his escapades circling in a hushed manner, but because of the man’s reputation, no one dared to state them out loud. However, what she disliked most about him was his excessive drinking. She didn’t believe that anyone who indulged in so much drink could be a decent man, and so far, everything was proving her to be right. If only her mother would see him for what he truly was and not for what she wanted him to be, which was a good catch for her eldest daughter. 

“Vivianne, are you even listening?” Her mother’s tone of voice had turned serious. 

“I’m sorry?” Vivianne turned to her apologetically. “I wasn’t listening.” 

“I can see that very well.” Her mother frowned. “Lord Kinsington was just complimenting your gown.” 

“Yes.” He turned to her with a mischievous grin, as if he had some intentions for that same gown later in the evening, and the thought once again made her shudder. Everything about that man made her react in such a manner. “I was simply stating that the green really accentuates the fire of your hair, my dear.” 

“Thank you,” she said through clenched teeth, not even bothering to offer him a smile. She didn’t wish to encourage him to ask her to dance, although she was certain that was why he was there. 

“And even more, your eyes,” he acknowledged, stepping dangerously close to her. She swallowed heavily, trying not to pull away at the onslaught of his breath on her lips, suffocating her with the smell of whiskey. Obviously, he had started. “You know, I love seeing my own reflection in them.” 

She didn’t say anything to that. She caught a glimpse of her father somewhere in the crowd, and she grabbed at him like a dying man grabbed at whatever could bring him back to the safety of the shore. However, before she could say anything, her mother spoke first. 

“Lord Kinsington, I hope you won’t consider it rude of us, but Aurelia and I need to leave you two for a moment. There is a friend I need to speak to urgently.” 

“Of course, my dear Lady DuPont.” Lord Kinsington bowed, and as he did so, his graying hair reminded Vivianne of his age. How on earth could her mother even consider marrying her off to that man? 

She reminded herself that the man’s true nature was still concealed from her mother. In fact, it was concealed from many, as he played his role in society well, knowing the stakes if he were to lose everything. 

Although they were surrounded by a sea of nameless faces and their drowning chatter, Vivianne felt as if the two of them were frighteningly alone on a desert island, and she had no one to call for help.

“Would you care to dance, Lady Vivianne?” he asked her, offering her his hand. 

“No, thank you, Lord Kinsington, I—” she started, but she wasn’t allowed to finish her polite refusal as the man grabbed her by the hand, pulling her among the other dancing couples and steadying her in front of himself. 

“Haven’t you been taught that it’s rude to refuse a gentleman’s offer of a dance?” he inquired, eyeing her in a slightly menacing manner. Then his lips widened into a smile, which he probably thought was charming but which only added to her unease. “You should thank your lucky stars that you are so lovely, Lady Vivianne. Pretty ladies can get away with anything, you know?” 

She stiffened at the notion. “No, I didn’t know that, Lord Kinsington.” 

She could feel his hand around her waist, like the grip of a snake, refusing to let go. They followed the sounds of the music, swaying to the rhythm. She kept her eyes on his out of sheer politeness, although she stole a glance around the room, hoping to come up with a reason to escape his company as soon as possible. 

She knew her mother would never allow her to dance with him if she knew the sort of man he truly was. But the sad state of affairs was that he was the only man still showing interest in the frigid daughter. The thought saddened her. She was perfectly content to remain unmarried for the rest of her life, but her sister’s marriage depended on her own. Their parents would never allow Aurelia to marry before Vivianne. 

“A strong-headed lady like you needs a man such as myself,” he continued, holding her a little too close for comfort. The smell of rye whiskey on his breath felt like a slap to the face. She wondered if he was aware of it. “You are like a beautiful wild horse. Someone needs to tame you, and I assure you that I am the man for that.” 

He was the last thing she needed in her life, but she bit her tongue, not wanting to sound rude, although his own compliment was very close to that. She wanted to run away from him, but she couldn’t. She had to endure at least one dance. 

The dance required of them to face each other, and he seized the moment to make her uncomfortable yet again. “I can be anything you want, Lady Vivianne. I can make those beautiful cheeks blush in ways you couldn’t even imagine, if only you would let me.” 

Fortunately, he swirled her away, and several seconds later, the music stopped. 

“Thank you for the dance, Lord Kinsington,” she said hastily, not wishing to allow him the chance to speak before she was done. “I feel a little lightheaded. Please excuse me.” 

He seemed perplexed but, not wanting to seem as if she caught him off guard, he bowed with a smile. “Of course. Keep that dance card free for me, though.” 

She nodded quickly before turning away and rushing out onto the terrace, desperate for some fresh air and time away not only from Lord Kinsington, but from everyone there. 

 

Chapter Two

“Why the long face, old boy?” Edward Vincent Woodhouse, the Earl of Chesterfield, addressed his friend Jonathon Musgrove, the Viscount of Russell. 

“Don’t ask,” Jonathon replied with a heavy sigh. 

“I believe I just did,” Edward teased, offering him a drink, as the two men huddled in the corner of the overly noisy ballroom, hoping for at least a semblance of privacy—which, of course, was a sheer impossibility in a place like that. 

However, Edward knew better than to discuss private matters at balls. A secret was only a secret if just one person knew it. So, he never risked talking about such things when the time was obviously not right for it. Jonathon, however, had no such control. A romantic at heart, his friend was often a slave to his current mood and emotions, and that evening seemed to be no exception. 

Jonathon accepted the drink, taking a small sip. Edward watched his eyes, looking in the same direction. A lovely young woman stood by the side of whom he could only assume was her mother, smiling at the world around her. 

“A new love interest, I assume?” Edward asked amusedly. 

“Yes.” Jonathon nodded, without taking his eyes off of the girl in question. 

“Is this the fifth one this year you are pining after?” 

Jonathon turned to him with a frown. “Are you actually keeping count?” 

“No, it was just a number off the top of my head.” Edward laughed, taking a sip of his own drink. “There was Lady Isabella Moore, then Miss Helena Willoughby, then Lady Thora—” 

“Never mind that,” Jonathon cut him off. “None of them matter.” 

“Of course they don’t,” Edward replied, even more amused. His friend was of the falling in love kind, truly believing that he was in love with every single one of those ladies. Usually, the ladies in question did not take his courtship all too seriously, as he lacked the confidence to make it properly known. 

“Tell me about this one,” Edward urged, gesturing at the lady. 

“Aurelia DuPont.” Jonathon said her name with reverence, almost like a prayer. “She is… an angel, Edward.” 

“Aren’t they all?” Edward chuckled, elbowing his friend playfully. “But I keep interrupting you. Do go on.” 

Jonathon seemed completely mesmerized by Aurelia. “I have spoken to her on several occasions,” he said. 

“You have?” Edward raised an eyebrow. “Now that is interesting. You, with your trembling hand syndrome when you need to speak to a woman, actually spoke to her?” 

“You weren’t at Lord Forsythe’s ball two weeks ago,” Jonathon explained. “And I had to be introduced to her. I knew that the moment I met her.” 

“Ah, yes, Lord Forsythe’s ball, sorry about that. I had, um… pressing matters to attend to. Not to mention throbbing.” He chuckled, much to the disgust of his friend, who turned to him with a frown. 

“You overshare sometimes, you know that?” Jonathon asked, but his question only made the two men laugh out loud. 

“That’s what best friends are for, are they not?” Edward raised his glass to his friend, and Jonathon did the same. They clinked their glasses together. “To best friends and oversharing.” 

“To best friends and oversharing.” Jonathon laughed, as they downed their drinks at the same time. “Now, as for Aurelia… she is wonderful, Edward. But look at all the men vying for her attention.” 

Edward had to admit that the lady was truly lovely. There was a magnetism about her, and in the short amount of time he and Jonathon had been conversing, the lady and her mother had been approached by three men already. Jonathon was right. 

“But you don’t want a girl like that, a girl who’s entertaining everyone’s attention,” Edward urged him gently. 

His friend was his stark opposite. While Edward was more than fine entertaining himself with ladies who had no intention of marrying, Jonathon was not. He wanted to get married. He wanted a family. He wanted love, no matter how ludicrous that sounded. It was simply who Jonathon was, and Edward wanted to see his best friend happy. 

“Oh, no, no.” Jonathon shook his head. “She’s not like that at all. She’s only entertaining them out of duty, because her older sister is supposed to be helping her find a suitable match. In the end, what I do matters little, because their mother is insistent upon the older sister marrying before the younger one does.” 

“Ah, so she follows protocol,” Edward mused. “I see.” He pondered on it for a few moments, then offered a solution. “Well, that’s easy. Get the older sister married off first. Help… Aurelia, was it? Help her find a match for her older sister, and you will be aiding your own cause at the same time.” 

“I wish it were that easy, old friend.” Jonathon sighed, shaking his head. 

“It’s not?” Edward raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “How difficult is it to marry off a girl? Unless there is something terribly wrong with her, I mean. It’s not, is it?” 

“That depends if you consider her being frigid as something wrong, which many gentlemen do,” Jonathon clarified. 

“Frigid?” Edward’s mind toyed with the term. He had never met a young woman who was frigid, only women who never had a real men treat them the way they wanted to be treated. 

“Yes,” Jonathon confirmed. “She has turned down all the advances she has received.” 

“That still doesn’t necessarily make her… frigid.” Edward was slowly becoming curious. “Where is the lady in question? Show her to me.” 

Jonathon searched for the lady in the crowd, then pointed her out. She had just finished dancing with Lord Kinsington. They seemed to exchange a few words, then she turned away from him and headed toward the balcony. Although Edward’s eyes rested on her form for a few brief moments, the lady made quite an impression on him. He wondered how he hadn’t noticed her before. 

Among the vibrant sea of silks and satins, she stood out like a flame. Her red hair, a cascade of fiery curls, caught the light with every movement, drawing the eyes of many admirers as she moved hastily toward the crowd. Her gown, a deep emerald green that complemented her striking hair and fair complexion, was fashioned from the finest silk, its bodice delicately embroidered with gold thread. The fabric shimmered as she walked, the skirt flowing gracefully with each step. Her slender neck was adorned with a simple yet elegant pearl necklace, which seemed to glow softly against her alabaster skin.

Despite her stunning appearance, there was a palpable tension in her demeanor. Her emerald eyes, framed by long, dark lashes, darted around the room as if searching for someone or something. Her lips, a soft shade of rose, were pressed into a thin line, betraying her anxiety.

Abruptly, she turned and rushed toward the grand double doors leading out of the ballroom. Her movements were graceful yet hurried, and the furrow of her brow suggested she was troubled. The other guests barely noticed her swift departure, too engrossed in their conversations and the lively music.

Edward had to admit that he was titillated by what he had seen. She didn’t seem one bit the frigid woman Jonathon had described. In fact, her beauty was so rare that she immediately awoke desire inside of him, as well as curiosity regarding her sudden departure. 

However, before he could state any opinion on the girl, he heard someone clear his throat behind them, and both gentlemen turned around the same time. Edward’s eyes locked with his uncle’s. 

“Ah, Uncle.” He grinned. “I was wondering when you would show up.” 

“Lord Chesterfield.” Jonathon bowed respectfully. One look in the man’s direction made it clear that Jonathon needed to give the two men a moment alone. “I’ll just… go over there.” He pointed in the distance, then disappeared from sight. 

“Is everything all right, Uncle?” Edward inquired, concerned with his uncle’s expression. 

Vincent Charles Morland, the Marquess of Chesterfield, had always been an old soul. Edward could not imagine the man ever being young, or even looking young. And every additional year of life had made him somehow more severe and more crotchety. 

“No, it is not.” His uncle shook his head. “I know this is not the right place to conduct such conversations, but I have just spoken with Lord Ashburn and he had divulged something rather concerning.” 

Edward bit his lip. He had stumbled onto Lord Ashburn a few nights ago, when he was out drinking and gambling. Jonathon had called it an early night, a usual occurrence, but Edward had decided to continue, which was another usual occurrence. A few men had joined his party and he carried on well into the night, indulging in much liquor and even a few loose women while losing more money than he likely should. 

“What is that, Uncle?” Edward wondered innocently, although he knew it wouldn’t work.

“I would rather not say it out loud.” His uncle refrained from sharing any sordid details, although judging from his facial expression, he knew them all. “I think I have been patient with you long enough, Edward. I have been asking when you had plans of settling down and finally marrying, but you keep avoiding that stage of your life, and I simply cannot understand why.” 

Why? The answer to that was pretty simple. Edward loved his life as it was. He had no obligations. He had no responsibilities. And he wanted to continue in such a manner for as long as possible. His uncle, however, didn’t like that. The two men had carried on that conversation more times than Edward could count. 

“I am still young, Uncle,” Edward replied playfully. 

“You are eight-and-twenty years of age,” his uncle reminded him. “That is not very young. It is high time you considered marrying.” 

“Well, you never married.” Edward decided to play that card, although he knew it was a dangerous strategy. 

His uncle frowned. “I am too demanding, as you yourself can see. I doubt any woman would be able to endure being married to me.” 

“Perhaps I am the same.” Edward shrugged. 

“No.” His uncle shook his head. “At least, you shouldn’t be. You need to be more focused on settling down and repairing the damage you’ve done to your reputation—which, I’m afraid to say, precedes you.” 

Edward didn’t consider that a bad thing, but he chose to remain quiet about it. 

“So, after having spoken to you numerous times about this, you have left me with no other choice,” the man said in a tone of voice that immediately concerned Edward. “You need to find a wife. And not just any wife. It needs to be a respectable young lady. That is the last requirement for you to fully come into your inheritance at last.”

“A wife?” Edward gasped, but he wasn’t allowed to say anything else as his uncle gripped him sympathetically by the shoulder. 

“I will not discuss this, my boy,” he said in a stern but loving voice. “You will see that I’m doing this for your own good.” He squeezed Edward’s shoulder, then he turned around and disappeared in the crowd of other people, leaving Edward stunned with shock.