Deceiving the Viscount

Chapter 4

Frederica had many surnames now.

Milbourne, the one she was born with.

Blackmore, the one she used two years ago when she was a debutante.

And now, Brookfield, the name of the man she had married because in a moment of weakness and loneliness, she'd succumbed to temptation and allowed herself to be seduced by the man and found herself with child. She knew she was fortunate that the lieutenant had done right by her instead of discarding her. Like how her mother had been abandoned.

And because she was a mother now too, she could feel how terrified her mother must have been to find herself alone, with no means of supporting herself and her child. How desperate her mother must have been.

Just as she was now.

And that was why she was in London, attending another Season at the largesse of the Leylands. They laboured under the illusion she was looking for another man to marry, since the pension she was receiving upon her husband's death was paltry and certainly not enough to sustain her and her young son.

That was the truth of the matter. She did need to marry, however, no man of the ton would marry her, a nobody who had no dowry, with a son to boot.

"And would you like to marry, Miss Blackmore?"

"It is not a matter of whether I would like to, Mr Kendall. I have to."

The memory of him — the man who was one of the causes of her loneliness — of their few encounters two years ago, rose unbidden. He was Viscount Healey now, but in her mind, he would always be Kendall.

"No more, Mr Kendall. You may kiss well, but you aren't the one for me." And she pressed her lips to his ear, her teeth grazing his earlobe before the tip of her tongue darted out to flick it. "Goodbye, Mr Kendall. May you find another woman to marry."

She closed her eyes at that last memory, her nipples growing erect and chafing against her shift and stays. It still shocked her, her audacity when it came to this man. No one else had ever inspired her to act or behave so forwardly. Yes, she had remained plain-speaking and was still blunt to a fault at moments, but no other man had made her feel the need to use her mouth, her lips, her tongue in ways that should only be used between married couples. Not even Brookfield had inspired the burst of that incandescent flame of desire the way her best friend's brother had.

Letting out a breath, she pressed the familiar ache back into its box. Kendall...no, Lord Healey — she had to remind herself that he was a viscount now, if only to help her control her baser desires for him — is...was...has always been unattainable. Nothing good would come out of his association with her. Had that not been the sole reason why she had refused to reply to his letters? Why she'd told him about her marriage? Why she left out the fact that her husband had passed? Even though she had longed for comfort in those dark days of seeing her mother waste away due to consumption, she'd known better than to seek it from a man who would give her the stars and moon despite the cost to him.

She rubbed at her chest though she knew nothing would ease the pain of having ripped out her heart to save him from himself.

Except maybe news of his marriage. Which she knew hadn't happened yet. She would never admit that she'd scoured the newspaper whenever she could to search for news of his impending marriage even as she painted falsehoods about hers.

But Adelaide had said that this Season might be the one where he would finally start looking for a bride, a woman who was well-suited for him and would help him with his political ambitions.

Everything she wasn't.

No, she certainly couldn't present herself to him as a woman seeking a husband. Nor could he ever know she was in need of financial help.