Always My Viscount

  Always

  My Viscount

  Ever Beloved

  Book Two

  Dawn Brower

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Always My Viscount © 2017 Dawn Brower

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  DEDICATION

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  EPILOGUE

  EXCERPT | A Lady Hoyden’s Secret | Bluestockings Defying Rogues 2 | Dawn Brower | Coming in June 2018

  PROLOGUE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Books by Dawn Brower

  DEDICATION

  For my dad, Archal Brower Jr., He always believed I should write and I never believed I had the patience for it. I wish he could have been here to see how much I’ve accomplished. I miss you daddy.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Thanks to my editor extraordinaire, Victoria Miller. You’re brilliant as always. Also thanks to my friend and super fan, Elizabeth Evans. I depend on you way more than I should. Thanks for putting up with me.

  PROLOGUE

  May 1813

  Donovan Turner, Viscount of Warwick strolled through his London townhouse without a care in the world. He whistled a happy tune excitement filling him with each step he took. Nothing could destroy the joy that pooled inside of him. He patted his jacket to make sure the ring was still in the innermost pocket. The ring—a diamond solitaire flanked by sapphires. The one he’d picked out especially for her, the one woman who’d always hold his heart and he’d love until the day he died. The sapphires matched her eyes. He hoped she liked it...

  He rubbed his hands against his pants. They were clammy from his nervousness. Soon he’d see her, and he’d propose the first moment he could. Someplace uninterrupted and romantic—which would be difficult at a ball. That was, if it were anyone other than him. He’d already charmed some of the staff at Halford House to help him out. There was a particular spot in Lady Halford’s garden that would work perfectly for what he had in mind. One of the kitchen maids would leave a bottle of champagne and two flutes for them to celebrate with. It would be absolutely perfect.

  The clock chimed in the hall. It was time to leave. The coach should be ready to take him to the ball. It would be the first time he’d ever arrived at the start of a ball. He usually believed in being fashionably late. For his Estella, he’d always be punctual. She meant too much to him to make her wait. Besides, he was a besotted fool and couldn’t stand being separated from her. The time they were apart was pure torture. He couldn’t wait to make her his wife and spend the rest of his days, and nights with her. He ached to claim her in every way.

  Donovan rushed out the front door and hopped into his carriage. He rapped the side a few times to inform the driver he was ready. It started to move a few moments later with the click clack of hoof beats on the pebbled road. He sat back and impatiently waited until they reached Halford House. He hoped Estella would be there already so he wouldn’t have to wait to see her. It would be scandalous, but he fully planned on claiming all of her waltzes. The risqué dance was the only way he could publicly hold her close. He was so grateful she’d been granted permission to dance it.

  Several minutes later, his carriage halted. He peeked outside at the long line of carriages. It would take forever for them to reach the front. This was why he never came to these things early. Would it be bad if he got out now and walked the remaining distance? What did he care if he skipped the line in front of the rest of the guests? He always did what he wanted and didn’t see any reason to change now. Donovan opened the door and stepped out.

  “Gibbs,” he said, nodding at the driver. “Do whatever it is you do while you wait for me. I’m going in now.”

  “Yes, my lord,” he said.

  Donovan didn’t look back as he walked briskly toward Halford House. When he got to the front step, another carriage was coming to a stop. He didn’t bother to glance back to see who it was. They didn’t matter to him. He skipped up the steps toward the open door. One of the servants nodded at him in greeting. He headed toward the ballroom and the line of people waiting to be announced. Sometimes, all the formality of balls and soirees were rather tiresome.

  “My lord,” a servant said with a bow.

  Donovan dropped his invitation on the tray the servant held in his hand. He nodded and took it to the man making the announcements. When it was his turn to be announced, he stood by the door leading to the ballroom, anxiously wringing his hands.

  “Viscount Warwick,” the man bellowed to the entire room.

  Silence fell. Donovan never came this early, and the ton had taken notice. He grinned as excitement filled him. This would be fun. He strolled into the room with his head held high. They would understand by the time the night was over. Soon, he’d no longer be an eligible bachelor but an affianced one.

  He scanned the ballroom as he entered and spotted her immediately. Lady Estella Sims stood at the edge of the room next to her stepsister, Lady Annalise Parker, and her stepbrother, Lord Marrok Parker, the Marquess of Sheffield. Marrok must have been summoned to chaperone the ladies. Donovan considered the man a friend and confident. He’d mentioned offhandedly that he was considering marriage, but not the lady who had caught his interest. He didn’t want to let anyone know that particular detail yet.

  He moved toward the group, wanting to be close to his love. Lady Estella’s beauty stopped him in his tracks. As he’d neared, he could see her more clearly. Her cherry-red hair was piled high in an elegant chignon, but a few curls escaped to frame her lovely face. Her bow-shaped lips were tinged a pretty pink, and her sapphire eyes sparkled like the jewels they resembled. Her dress was white with blue embellishments. The Duke of Wolfton, Estella’s stepfather, didn’t believe a debutante should wear any color other than white. The blue ribbons were Estella’s mark of rebellion.

  He reached the ladies and bowed. “Lady Estella, Lady Annalise,” he greeted them. Then turned toward Marrok and nodded. “Sheffield. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  Marrok’s lips twitched. “Nor I, you. What brings you to something so tame as a ton ball?”

  “They’re not so bad,” he said drolly. “Once you get used to them.”

  “Say it isn’t so,” Marrok said aghast. “I hope never to achieve such a state as to think these dreary entertainments all right enough to attend. I wouldn’t be here if father hadn’t made me chaperone.”

  “It’ll do you good to socialize,” Lady Annalise said. “Maybe you’ll even find a woman willing to take you on.”

  Marrok rolled his eyes. “No need to curse me, sister dear. I’ll gladly leave you two and go find a card game.”

  “Please do,” she said pushing a black strand of hair behind her ear. “Estella and I will be fine on our own. Come fetch us when it’s time to return home.”

  “Very well,” Marrok agreed. “Are you coming, Warwick?”

  Through the entire exchange, Estella remained quiet. It wasn’t like her, and it worried Donovan. Was something bothering her? Did she not want to see him? He had to find a way to get h
er alone soon and talk to her. Not because he wanted to ask her to marry him, but also because he was worried about her. She wasn’t acting like herself.

  “Not now,” Donovan said. “I was hoping Lady Estella would dance with me.” The strands of the first waltz filled the room. “Will you?” he glanced at her, awaiting her reply.

  She glanced at him and then away quickly. “I’m...”

  “Oh, go dance with him,” Annalise said, pushing Estella toward him. “One dance won’t hurt, and you can have a nice chat.”

  What did that mean, and what the bloody hell was he missing? Did Estella not want to dance with him? He wouldn’t hurt her for anything—surely she knew that... He’d rather stab himself in the heart then make her miserable in any fashion.

  Estella glanced at Annalise then at him. Slowly, she lifted her hand and nodded. “It would be a pleasure, my lord.”

  Donovan led her out to the dance floor. The dance had already begun, but they joined the other dancers seamlessly. He waited until they were fully engrossed before speaking. He wanted her to be comfortable, but her nervousness was exacerbated by the dance.

  “Estella,” he said softly. “What’s wrong?”

  She didn’t look up at him. He didn’t understand. Why was she so upset?

  “It’s nothing, my lord,” she replied.

  My lord? When had she stopped using his given name? They’d been secretly courting for weeks. She knew how he felt and what he hoped for them. He loved her... “I’ve made arrangements for us to meet in private later. A servant will show you the way.”

  She glanced up at him. “I’m afraid I cannot tonight, my lord.”

  Something was definitely wrong. “Why not?”

  He wanted to understand. Truly he did, but nothing she was doing or saying made any sense to him. They’d met several times in the past, and she was well aware she could trust him. He’d been good—mostly. He was a man, after all, and couldn’t be expected to live as a monk. There were a few times he’d stolen a kiss or two, but he’d left her chaste. He wanted her to trust him and realize he was serious in his pursuit. No other woman would do for him, and Estella above anyone should know that deep down in her very soul.

  Estella stared into his eyes and said unwaveringly, “This thing between us must end.”

  He almost stopped dancing in the middle of the floor. It was too ingrained in him to completely falter though, and he kept them moving even as his heart sank in his chest. “What?” He couldn’t have heard her correctly. “But—I—please tell me why.” Then he could work on changing her mind.

  “It wouldn’t work,” she said decisively. “We’re too different.”

  His whole world was falling apart before him. Not once had he believed she’d ever say no to his proposal. They were perfect for each other—at least, he’d always believed so. No two people were ever exactly alike. There were at least some minute differences between them. They didn’t have to share all the same interests to make a good match. Even if they were too different, as she claimed, they still loved each other. Didn’t they? “Since when has that prevented a marriage?”

  “I hadn’t realized we’d said vows or were about to.” She lifted a brow. Estella’s voice remained emotionless as she asked, “Did I miss something?”

  “Surely you knew, that is to say, I had hoped to wait until we were alone. I was going to ask you to marry me tonight.”

  “As in you’ve changed your mind?” Estella tilted her head as he swung her around the dance floor. “How fortuitous it didn’t come to that then.”

  “I have not had a change of heart,” he said stubbornly. “I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. I have a...”

  “Keep what you were about to say to yourself,” she said. “I don’t want you.”

  Donovan’s heart crushed into a million times over at her words. Nothing she’d said made any kind of sense. She hadn’t acted this way the last time she’d seen him. They’d kissed and promised to love each other forever. What could have changed in such a short time?

  “Estella, love,” he said softly. “Please.”

  She lifted a brow mockingly. “It was fun while it lasted, but surely you didn’t expect I’d actually marry you. My stepfather would never approve of such a match. You’re the golden rogue of the ton. He has a better match in mind for me, and I’ll accept it.”

  Never had he hated his reputation more than in that moment. So he’d been a rogue of legend. Didn’t he deserve a chance to show the world he could change? Damn it. He had changed. Estella made him a better man.

  The strands of the waltz came to an end. There was no reason to keep up the charade and an even bigger reason to leave. Nothing at the ball would hold his attention any longer, and he might as well find someone who would welcome the sight of him. He led Estella back to Annalise. He bowed and said, “It’s been a pleasure. I hope you find what you’re looking for, my lady.” He turned toward Annalise. “And you as well. Good night, ladies.” He turned on his heel and exited the room.

  He’d go to the club. No, he’d visit his favorite brothel. Maybe he could erase her from his mind and heart. He shook his head in defeat. Nothing would ever make that a reality. She’d haunt him always.

  ESTELLA FOUGHT TEARS. She wanted to run after him and beg forgiveness. He was her everything, and she’d wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Damn her evil stepfather and his nefarious ways. Why couldn’t he have been the good man her mother had believed him to be? More importantly, why did her mother have to die and leave her in his care? Couldn’t she have found a better guardian for her? Her cousin Ryan, Marquess of Cinderbury, would have taken her in. They’d had a close relationship as children. But no, her mother had made sure that the Duke of Wolfton had complete control over her and her inheritance. She could do nothing without his permission.

  “It’s for the best,” Annalise said. “You can do much better than the Viscount of Warrick.”

  “I don’t want anyone else.”

  Her stepsister shrugged. “We don’t always get what we want.”

  She’d have snorted if they were at home. In the ballroom, she had to be as ladylike as possible. Annalise didn’t understand. She’d never been in love, let alone had her heart ripped out of her chest. The loss of Donovan would always be there. Ridding him from her soul would be impossible, and in truth, she didn’t want to. He was the love of her life, and she would die loving him.

  “I can’t wait until you find the man you hope to spend the rest of your life with,” Estella said scathingly. “And laugh as your father does everything he can to separate you from him. Then I’ll happily remind you of that very statement.”

  “I don’t believe in love,” she said haughtily. “All I need is someone who’ll keep me in the style to which I’ve become accustomed. I’ll beget a brat or two for them and then find a lover for pleasure.”

  Who was this woman? How had they grown up in the same household and turned out so vastly different? They were the same age and they’d been living together for the past five years. Estella’s mother had passed away three years after she’d married the duke. Annalise had seemed kinder then.

  “It matters not,” Estella said. “Your father already told me I’m not going to be staying at Wolfton Manor past tonight. Tomorrow I’m to be exiled until the ton forgets I exist. It’s preferable to what he had planned, either way.”

  She would not marry an old lecher because the Duke ordered it. He’d declared that Estella would marry the Earl of Dredfield or be exiled to the tiny village of Sheerness. Her grandmother had owned a cottage there and had bequeathed it to Estella upon her death. She wouldn’t come into her inheritance for another three and a half years. She could live there until then, and if she was lucky enough, Donovan wouldn’t have married by then. When she was no longer under the Duke’s control, she could beg him to take her back. Until then, she’d have to remain silent. The Duke had too much power and could ruin them both.

 
“Maybe so,” Annalise said. “But don’t expect that will be the end of it. Father doesn’t like losing.”

  No, he didn’t. Estella prayed he’d let it be. At least long enough for her to gain control of her life. Then she’d be in a better position to fight him. A tear threatened to fall from her eye. She wiped it before it gave her away.

  “That may be,” she said. “But he’s already defeated me in the worst possible way. That should make him content for the time being.”

  Heaven above, she would be far from anything resembling happiness for quite a while... Donovan hated her now. What chance did she really have of winning him back? She’d had his love, and all she had to do was accept it. He’d never understand that she’d pushed him away to protect him. In his place, she probably wouldn’t be forgiving either. She’d have to live her life and hope, in time, his wounds would heal. Hers would fester and maybe gradually harden enough for her to do what was necessary for them both.

  It was all she could do—and she would. She was strong and capable. No man, especially her wicked stepfather, would keep her down for long. Her patience, resilience, and intelligence would see her through until the day she toppled him over like the evil man he was.

  CHAPTER ONE

  June 1816

  Donovan groaned and clutched the top of his head. What the bloody hell kept pounding on his skull, attempting to beat a path right through it? Maybe he should roll over and let the tiny beast have its way. What did he have to live for anyway? His life wasn’t worth much, and he’d pretty much given up on finding happiness ever again. Most days, he drank himself into oblivion. He lost all hope the day Estella had broken his heart. He was completely numb to everything and didn’t see the point in caring.

  Maybe that was the problem. He had been drinking rather heavily for the past—well, forever. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been sober. Truthfully, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d bothered to bathe. He must smell rather rank. Oh well, not as if he was crawling in bed with a lovely female any time soon. Hadn’t he given up on life? He’d be dead before long either way.