Where Destiny Plays, page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
The Harwell Heirs
Acknowledgments
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
About the Author
Where Destiny Plays
(Harwell Heirs Book 3)
Regina Kammer
Viridium Press
Copyright
Where Destiny Plays is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015, 2017 by Regina Kammer
This title was previously published. It has been reedited with minor revisions.
Story originally conceived as Miss Danby’s Condition © 2013 by Regina Kammer.
Cover: Dar Albert, Wicked Smart Designs
All Rights Reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text or speech is expressly prohibited, including without limitation, technologies that are capable of generating works in the same style or genre as this work. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
Published by: Regina Kammer and Viridium Press, Friday Harbor, Washington
ISBN-13: 978-0-9910166-7-9 (paperback)
ISBN-10: 0-9910166-7-X (paperback)
ISBN-13: 978-0-9910166-8-6 (ebook)
ISBN-10: 0-9910166-8-8 (ebook)
The Harwell Heirs
Victorian aristocracy has very strict rules concerning marital connections and familial obligations. But the Harwell heirs—Helena, Sophia, and Arthur—discover love doesn’t always follow the rules. Scandalous affairs force these scions of society to choose between duty and desire, deference and destiny.
Book 1: The Pleasure Device
Book 2: Disobedience By Design
Book 3: Where Destiny Plays
Harwell Heirs Legacy Romances
Book 4: A Delicate Seduction
Book 5: Discovering Her Delight
Book 6: Their Noble Deceit
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Acknowledgments
Thank you to my family—especially my parents and my husband—and friends for their enthusiastic and continued encouragement, and to my colleagues for their advice, knowledge, and support.
Dedication
Memories can be powerful, their emotions overwhelming. This book is dedicated to the following who helped me purge the bad and forge ahead with the new: Adriana, Amy, Burcu, Calia, Cindy, Claudine, Daphne, Dave, Dawn, Deborah, Gail, George, Janell, Jason, Jessica, Jimmie, Joshua, Kaari, Lindsey, Marika, Marnie, MaryBeth, Matt, Megan, Minda, Miranda, Monique, Nensi, Nika, Orkan, Paula, Sheila, Steve, Susan, Tara, Tavia, Todd.
Thank you all.
Prologue
London, July 1869
Lavinia Ainsleigh, the Viscountess Foxley-Graham, stared at the naked eighteen-year-old dozing in bed at her side, his face softened with satiation in London’s fading sunlight. Nicholas Atherley was impossibly handsome, virile and vibrant. His university career stretched before him, and after that, who knew? His life was full of possibilities.
He did not yet know heartache, crushed hopes and dreams, or a lover’s betrayal.
But Lavinia knew and she would never let it happen again, never rely on someone for her security, never allow the ambitions of another to rule her life.
And never ever fall in love again.
Nicholas stirred, turning over with a throaty rumble, offering her a view of his muscled back. She resisted the urge to lick his spine, to trace the ridges and hollows with her tongue, tasting his potent masculinity. She wanted him to sleep a little longer. She needed the respite. She was still astonished by what had transpired that afternoon.
Earlier that day, she had been visiting her dear friend Louisa Atherley, the Countess of St. Albans, at the family’s Mayfair residence, a property still retained despite the infamous gambling debts accrued by the earl and his eldest son. Louisa preferred listening to the problems of others, a diversion which took her away from the stress of her abusive husband. Her advice was often very astute.
Over tea in a cozy corner of the elegant drawing room, the two women sitting across from each other on gold damask sofas, Louisa had offered guidance. A married woman had few options for a happy life; a widow had far more. Yet happiness eluded Lavinia despite having been widowed for seven years. The affair with the man she truly loved—a man not her husband—was over. The loneliness, the anger, the regret was smothering her.
“Vinny, forget him. Forget your Dr. Christopher.”
“I’ve tried!” Lavinia stared blankly at the contents of her teacup. Julius Christopher had proven far too fascinating a man to forget.
“Darling, you need distractions.”
The gilded porcelain cup and saucer quaked in Lavinia’s hand as she placed them on the tea table before her. “Julius was my distraction.” She squeezed her eyes shut to dam the tears.
Louisa slid her handkerchief across the polished table. Emblazoning a corner of the fine linen square was a flamboyant R, the full, rounded bowl of the top of the letter balanced by exuberantly curling stems. The emblem represented the initial of Louisa’s maiden name “Ramsay,” and was a reminder of the loving family she had left behind to marry the cruel Robert Atherley, Earl of St. Albans.
Louisa stared into the fireplace, as if gathering solace from the glowing embers. “An unhappy woman must find a distraction outside the home. I suggest you find several.”
“Such as?” Lavinia dabbed her eyes.
“Charity work. Surely there are relief efforts you admire?”
“And be with a gaggle of old women?” Lavinia laughed. “I want to be with a man, Louisa. I crave such companionship.”
“We’re not all old, dear. You forget I’m only forty. I quite enjoy my work with the poor.”
“Humph.” Lavinia turned her gaze to the depths of the carved stone hearth.
“You’ve always had an interest in politics. Are there not causes for which you could muster enthusiasm?”
“We still need men to effect any sort of change.”
“Well, what about a hobby? Starting a collection of something?”
“What about a collection of men?” That sounded like a great distraction. Perhaps she could collect them through political work. She giggled grimly.
Louisa sighed and returned to her tea. “Just be discreet about it, dear.”
The door to the drawing room swung open and Nicholas Atherley strolled in, immediately charging the air with his energetic vitality.
He went to Louisa, bending his height to take her hands and kiss each cheek. “Mother, I see you have company so I won’t keep you.”
“Nonsense.” Louisa’s eyes misted at the sight of him, her youngest, her favorite son. “You’re always welcome no matter what I am doing.” She turned to Lavinia. “Nicky is just home from Cambridge. He’s reading medicine.”
Nicholas approached, his hair as dark a brown as the mahogany tea table, his coffee-colored eyes sparked with an enchanting gleam. He had changed for the better since he had left for university, the angles of manhood now sculpting his once-boyish features, a provocative charisma pulsating under the refined façade. Lavinia held out her hand and he took it, his hold firm. With a lift of a brow and an appreciative smirk, he raised her hand to his lips.
“Always a pleasure, my lady.”
Lavinia smiled. Apparently he had learned a thing or two about charming the female sex from his year at Cambridge.
“And what are your plans, Nicholas?” She patted the couch next to her.
He took his place in the corner, lounging his athletic frame against the delicate rosewood arm. “London for a few weeks, then I really don’t know. I might go abroad when Mother and Father return to St. Albans.” He picked at the upholstery a moment before surveying the paintings along the mantel wall.
“Nicky, darling, Lavinia was just lamenting how she lacked an escort for the ballet this Friday. Would you mind accompanying her?”
Lavinia’s scalp prickled. Nicholas was practically half her age. Surely his mother was not suggesting—
“I would be delighted, Lady Foxley-Graham.” His attentive smirk was tinged with recklessness.
&n
Louisa turned her attention to her tea.
“I think my friends would be impressed,” Nicholas said with a wink.
Good Lord, he was flirting with her.
The rattle of Louisa’s teacup in its saucer was overly loud. “Then it’s settled,” she said cheerily.
The mantel clock chimed.
“Oh, my word. Louisa, I’ve overstayed my welcome, I’m sure.” Lavinia stood.
Nicholas immediately stood, as well. Once side-by-side, they seemed too close.
Lavinia’s heart thudded. Nicky had always been Louisa’s baby boy. Suddenly he was a red-blooded man, oozing sensuality.
Of course. Some time between when she saw him last and now, he had become a man, had had a taste of what a woman could offer. And clearly he wanted more.
“Vinny, didn’t you say you walked?” Louisa asked.
“I did.” She had been frustrated and the two-mile walk through Kensington Gardens had eased her mind. She’d need the exercise of the return trip to rid herself of the effects of Nicholas’ magnetic charms.
“Well, it’s much too far, dear. We’ll order you a cab. Nicky, will you see Lavinia home please?”
The implication was too obvious. Louisa could not possibly be so daft as to not know how attractive her son was. She definitely knew full well how vulnerable Lavinia was. Yet, the idea of being left alone with the beguiling son of one’s best friend was both loathsome and thrilling all at once.
Nicholas did not attempt seduction in the cab, at least. He waited until he had seen her through her front door, her butler Sims registering no reaction to her gallant companion. Once inside, Nicholas placed a hand at the small of her back and guided her to what he probably hoped was a room devoid of any other servants.
After he closed the door to the morning room, he gave her that reckless look again. Carelessly, she caressed his cheek, deliciously roughened with maturity. She raised herself on her toes and touched her lips lightly to his.
He took her in his arms and kissed her back with the enthusiasm of youth.
She melted against him, desperate for any man’s touch, and when he deepened the kiss, his tongue breaching her mouth, her qualms scattered. She was desperate for his touch.
He broke free, his hands still holding her fast at her waist. “My lady,” he panted. “Lavinia, I’ve wanted you, well, it seems for forever. I’ve dreamed of you since I—” He stopped short.
“Since you learned what it was like to be with a woman?”
He blushed and glanced away before turning his pleading gaze back to her. “Yes.”
She should have been merely flattered that such a handsome young man thought of her in his erotic musings. Instead, she’d become aroused, the fullness between her thighs commanding her thoughts. She needed a man and a splendid specimen stood right in front of her.
“Let’s go to my bedroom, Nicky.”
It had been too long. She trembled with need and he with nerves, but somehow she ended up naked and splayed across her bed, staring up at his gorgeous body, not wanting preliminaries, needing to feel his hardness inside her. The shock of his invasion was glorious but he came too soon. The second time, he was abashed and a bit flustered. She was only his second lover, he had confessed. He was a practiced flirt, but despite his valiant efforts had garnered very little actual experience. Girls his age were jealous of their virtue, he complained. She reminded him they had to be.
“I know. But it’s damn frustrating.”
By their third tumble, he had found his courage and with it came cocky confidence. He was a quick learner, taking over when she had reached between their bodies with her hand, gaining mastery of her desires as well as his, waiting for her climax before he came inside her.
One lasting perk of her failed affair with Julius was the knowledge he had imparted regarding methods to prevent pregnancy. Nicholas had been very appreciative.
And she was appreciative of his ardent attentions.
Afterward, awkward words became comfortable chitchat, melting into satisfied slumber, until Nicholas stretched with a loud groan, jolting her from a sensual dream.
“God, I feel wonderful!” He reached for her, pulling her to him. He took a nipple in his mouth and sucked.
A pleasurable heat shot straight to her cunt.
He moved to the other breast. Then lifted his head. “I have an incredible urge to—”
She raised her eyebrows.
“Take a piss.”
She shoved him off. “Down the hall or under the bed, Nicky.”
She got up and went to her wardrobe to find a dressing gown. Behind her, he slid the commode box out from under the bed.
The sound of evacuation never ensued. She turned around. He stood naked before her, his half-hard prick in his hand.
“How about right here?” He shook his sex at her. “I should mark you as my own.”
The cocky overconfidence had not been subdued by an hour’s nap.
“Don’t you dare, you dog.”
He laughed. She would have to teach him a lesson.
She lunged and grabbed his cock. He yelped in surprise, before trying to push her off. When she grabbed his stones with her other hand, he froze, his face pale.
Maintaining the unusual restraint, she led him to the commode and flipped the lid open with her foot. She let go of his balls then pulled down on his slack cock, aiming it at the bowl.
“Piddle, Master Atherley.”
He flushed. “I don’t think I can, Lavinia,” he said softly, thoroughly subdued. “I think I need a moment.” He cleared his throat. “Without any help.”
She gripped harder. “I’ll let go after an apology. A sincere apology.”
He looked at her, helpless. “Vinny, I’m sorry, believe me. I didn’t—I’m sorry.”
She let go.
She leaned her back against his and waited, arms crossed. It took a few minutes, but he finally pissed his long-awaited stream, giving his cock a jounce at the end.
“Damn,” he murmured. “That was arousing.” He turned to her.
They watched together as his cock twitched to erection.
A smile spread on his lips. A very wicked smile.
He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed. Lavinia let out her surprise in laughter, excitement welling within as he tore open her robe.
And then he was on top of her, inside her, laughing with her, until the culmination of desire raged and she let him take his pleasure. He held her eyes as he let loose inside her, lost in his moment of bliss.
He sagged on top of her, his puffing breaths hot on her neck. “My God, Vinny, you’ve tamed me.”
“That is the only way I’ll allow you to mark me, Nicky. Remember that.” She stroked his hair. “Never ever do anything to hurt or humiliate a lover.”
He raised his head to meet her gaze. “Yes, Vinny.”
He rolled to her side then pulled her close, holding her, kissing her hair. “This has been the most incredible afternoon. I don’t want to go home.” He propped himself on an elbow. “I can’t stand it there. Father is horrible to Mother.” He drew a finger between her breasts. “Can I stay with you?”
She cupped his cheek. He looked like a lost puppy. “We can’t be obvious about it, Nicky. You should sleep at the Mayfair house most nights.”
“Yeah.”
“But I would love to have an escort to finish out the Season.”
He smiled a genuine smile. That he had not learned in Cambridge. The affable grin was Nicky through and through. She kissed his cheek then smoothed down his riotous curls. She said nothing as she nuzzled against him once again.
An hour later, she woke up, amazed to find him still there. Amazed that an eighteen-year-old paragon of vigorous manhood snored naked and slaked at the side of a thirty-five-year-old widow who had been discarded one too many times.
He rolled onto his back with a yawn. “Vinny?”
“Yes, Nicky?”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “I love you.”
Of course he had only a vague understanding of what that meant. She burrowed against him. Transitory affairs with youthful lovers was a life she could get used to. As long as she never fell in love with any of them and they never betrayed her.
