Her Sister's Fiancé - Book #1

Chapter 4

 Lavinia rubbed her tongue over her teeth, drawing a deep breath. Her fingers absentmindedly picked at the upholstery on the chair. She exhaled in a sigh. Honestly, she wouldn't blame Ethan if he ignored her call completely, but Cassandra had begged her to speak to him—as was always the case when something went wrong with one of the many callers that vied for her sister's attention. She had almost refused Cassandra's request, she was tired of talking with men for her sister, she remembered all too pungently her last meeting with one of Cassandra's men. After stringing the poor fellow along for months, Cassandra had tired of his companionship and sent Lavinia—per usual—to tell him that his cause was hopeless.

This time, it was a whole lot worse. Cassandra had messed up, and she knew it. She had spent hours after Ethan had driven off in angry haste blubbering about how difficult her life was. Then had come the begging and pleading. Cassandra had called Lavinia cruel and heartless, she had implored her to speak to Ethan, but Lavinia had remained firm. She wasn't going to do it this time, it was Cassandra's duty because Ethan was her fiancé.

Early this morning, her father had come to her in the conservatory. Lord Ezra Antrucha was known for his quiet ways, he made the money, and his wife and elder daughter spent it. He was not expected to be the life of the party, he simply came and listened to the other lords talk about their lives, smiling when it was necessary and talking rarely. Lavinia was the only one who knew the way her father suffered, he sat quietly beneath his wife's sharp eyes, never daring to question her, and never brought attention to himself if he could help it.

"Lavinia, dearest," he'd said quietly, kissing her cheek. "I know you don't want to talk to Ethan, and that's fine. Heaven knows Cassandra will never go to him, and they will no doubt have a miserable marriage." That had confused her.

"Won't Ethan break off the engagement?"

"No, Lord Brodi would raise hell if he did." Her father had fallen quiet, his gaze drifting to the outdoors. "You understand what he feels, you've watched it for years, you know how to talk to him. Love, if you can find it in yourself to speak with him, do it, please. Give him comfort, and explain it to him." He'd paused for a moment, his gray eyes falling on her, sorrow in their depths. "You don't have to, but if you don't, no one will. You know how to talk to people, Livy, it's a rare gift, when you put your mind to it, I warrant you could charm the nose off a mule with only your voice." She smiled at him, her mother had long since forbidden him to call her 'Livy', and he had complied, but when they were alone, it resurfaced out of habit, and she loved it.

"I'll talk to him, Papa." She'd said slowly, closing her book with a sigh. "Heaven only knows how much I hate doing Cassandra's dirty work, but I see that it would be unkind of me to ignore the family for my own selfish reasons." Her father had laughed.

"There's not a selfish bone in your little body, Livy. I wish things could have been different," He said thoughtfully. "I wish—" He'd stopped suddenly, and without explaining, he'd left her to herself.

Now, here she sat, waiting for Ethan Brodi, ready to talk to him about her sister, not for Cassandra's sake but for her father's. She sighed again, wishing she could run away and hide. What must Ethan think of them? Of her? He had been too angry for her to explain things yesterday, was he still so angry that he would refuse to talk to her? She stared into space, knowing she had to talk to him no matter what.

"Lady Lavinia," his voice startled her, and she leapt to her feet so quickly that she was thrown off balance. She pitched forward, and her hip crashed into the table beside her chair. Then her body crashed into something solid. Her eyes widened with the force of the impact, and she realized then that the table beside her chair had had a large, beautiful vase atop it. The vase shook, tipped, and fell with a heavy crash to the floor.