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The Fox and the Viscount
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The Fox and the Viscount
The Shifter Season #1
Laura Greenwood
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Author Note
Also by Laura Greenwood
About the Author
© 2021 Laura Greenwood
* * *
All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise – without prior written permission of the published, except as provided by United States of America copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher at “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address; [email protected].
Visit Laura Greenwood’s website at:
www.authorlauragreenwood.co.uk
Cover Design by Ammonia Book Covers, Model Stock Photo by Period Images, Pi Creative Lab, and Logo by Vampari Designs
The Fox and the Viscount is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
If you find an error, you can report it via my website. Please note that my books are written in British English: https://www.authorlauragreenwood.co.uk/p/report-error.html
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Blurb
When Victoria runs into her childhood friend and fellow fox shifter, Edmund, at a society event, she finds herself engaging in a scandalous wager over which of the two will secure an engagement first.
* * *
Even with a suitable suitor calling on her, she can't help but be drawn back to her friend's side, and they soon find themselves in a compromising situation with only one way out of it.
* * *
Can they resist the pull they have to one another?
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The Fox and the Viscount is book one of the Shifter Season, a paranormal Regency romance series. It has a friends to lovers m/f romance and is Victoria and Edmund's complete story.
One
Victoria
* * *
A small part of me is grateful that the shifter community mirrors that of the human one. There's so much I'd miss out on otherwise. All it takes is one glance at the society papers and gossip columns for the pang of jealousy to make itself known within me. Even now, I still get it. I've had to wait seven extra years to be presented to society. If I'd been human, I would have been presented at eighteen and had my season already.
This would be so much easier if supernaturals were out in the open, then we wouldn't have to all be presented separately and could do it along with the humans. I've heard enough whispers about that being a possibility to think it'll happen in my lifetime, but not in time for tonight.
Because, despite the fact we'll be presented to a Queen of our own, I'll still be going to events with humans. I'll get to make friends and form connections in a way I've never done before.
What happens if I fall in love with one of them? Papa won't like that.
I swish my dress back and forth as I stare into the mirror. It doesn't move very much, but that's the point considering the skirt drops to the floor from the waistline beneath my bosom. I like this better than the fashions some of the older ladies wear, there's too much fabric and restriction in their gowns for my taste.
"Victoria, are you coming?" my twin sister calls from the next room.
I sigh. I can't even enjoy the attention on my own. Just like with everything, I have to share it with Denise.
"Yes," I say, pulling myself away from the mirror and heading towards the door which connects our rooms.
Denise is ethereal in her bright white gown and her light blonde curls styled perfectly. I don't need the mirror to find out how I appear, I can see it when I look at her. Thankfully, Mama doesn't insist on us wearing everything identically. It's bad enough that we look the same, dressing the same would make us the talk of the ton, and not in a good way.
"Are you excited?" she asks.
I smile and nod. "What about you?"
She grimaces. "I'd rather spend my time reading a book by the fire."
"Then going out to parties? I've heard they're rather extravagant."
She snorts in a very unladylike fashion. I hope she doesn't do that around potential suitors.
"I don't need to find a husband that way."
"Then how are you planning on doing it?" I ask, genuine curiosity urging me on.
"Maybe I'll simply have Papa arrange a marriage." She turns to her dressing table and opens up her reticule, slipping a small book into it.
My eyes widen. Is she really going to take reading material to our presentation to the Shifter Queen? I know better than to ask. The answer is yes, and we both know it. I simply wish she'd take this seriously. If she does something wrong, then it'll ruin both of our chances.
"If Papa arranges it, you'll end up with a boring John or Peter," I insist.
"Father Peter is lovely, Victoria. I could do much worse than marrying a pastor."
My mouth falls open, but I snap it shut quickly. I can't let myself do anything so improper when there are other people around.
"We're the daughters of a Baron, we can't marry pastors," I counter.
"There are only so many titled fox shifters, some of us have to marry outside of our station." She snaps the small bag shut, as if hoping it'll end our conversation.
"Yes, and that means marrying up, not down. We want to elevate our family." How can she be so oblivious to this?
Denise sighs. "I don't know about you, but I want to marry for more than just a title, and I plan on doing just that. You're not going to convince an Earl or a Duke to have you, and we all know you'll never accept the Viscount. We all remember the fights the two of you got into as children."
"I can if I can convince everyone I'm accomplished and a worthy wife," I protest, a little upset that she's being so dismissive of me. Does she really think no one will want me?
"You can do what you will, but that doesn't mean you're not wasting your time, and mine, with this silly notion."
Anger rises inside me, and I close my eyes, trying to count to ten and contain myself before I do something stupid like shift and ruin my new dress.
"Then why are you going through with this?" I ask her. "Why not avoid being presented and not even attend the balls, it'll clearly make you happier."
"Mama didn't give me a choice, as you're well aware." Denise folds her arms over her chest and shoots daggers at me. "And now I have to go through all of this despite knowing I won't come away with a husband. But this isn't about me. It's all about you."
"Me?" I squeak.
"Yes. You. The perfect daughter who does everything she's supposed to do and makes me look bad for wanting to do my own thing."
"Denise..." It's hard to keep the hurt out of my voice, even though I want to. I thought the two of us were friends as well as sisters, but it seems as if she has a very different view of our relationship.
"Oh, don't listen to me." She wa
ves away my protests and affects a lighter tone as if she's never said any of it.
That's fine. Two can play at that game, and if she wants to pretend there's no hurt, then that's fine by me. I'll put on a brave face and never mention it again.
"They'll be waiting for us downstairs," I say needlessly.
She nods. "I'm ready if you are."
I narrow my eyes, completely confused by the walking contradiction that is Denise. Maybe now she's gotten her true feelings out in the open, she'll be more pleasant company.
It may be a vain hope, but it's what I'm going to cling to.
The two of us exit her room and make our way towards the grand sweeping staircase which dominates the entrance hall of our family home. Our parents and younger brother wait patiently at the bottom, each of them dressed in their finest. While Philip is only twenty, I'm sure Mama will be considering potential matches for him tonight. It's his job as the future Baron to find a suitable wife and provide the Barony with heirs. It doesn't matter if I, or even Denise, would make a better Baroness, we aren't allowed to inherit. Such is the trial of being a girl.
Considering most of the Shifter Monarchs are Queens, it seems like a huge oversight to disallow female shifters to inherit titles. But I'm never going to convince anyone of that.
"Darlings, you look beautiful," Mama says, coming forward to kiss each of us on the cheek but barely touching either of us. She's normally more affectionate, but I suspect she's being careful not to make a mess of any of our clothing. White is a highly impractical colour for a dress, which is probably why the Queen insists upon it. At least she allows us to be presented in the fashions of the day. I've seen the human girls being presented to their Queen, and their dresses look uncomfortable and impossible to move in with their wide hooped skirts and excessive frills. It's not even like they can wear them outside of the human court without seeming deeply unfashionable.
The modistes and seamstresses must love this time of year.
"Are you ready?" Papa asks, already seeming bored of the whole affair.
"We are," Mama answers for us. "We'll put your headpieces on when we get there. The feathers will be too high for the carriage and we don't want to damage them." She gestures to two tall hat boxes sitting on the entrance hall table.
Papa gestures for one of the servants to pick up the boxes and take them out to the waiting carriage. For a moment, I think Mama is going to try lecturing the poor man about how he should be handling them, but she stays silent.
Nerves flit around my stomach as I follow my parents out of the ornate front door of our London home and into the horse-drawn carriage sitting in front of it.
Today marks my entrance into society, and it's going to change my life forever.
Two
Victoria
* * *
I resist the urge to wring my hands together as the nerves truly start taking hold. I thought I had everything under control, but now I'm standing in the hall outside the throne room along with several dozen other young shifter ladies being presented today, I'm not so sure.
My headpiece feels as if it's drooping, and I lift my hand up to settle it.
"Victoria, is that you?"
I turn around to find a dark-haired girl I vaguely recognise standing in front of me.
She smiles, seeming to sense my confusion. "Esther, we attended dance classes together five years ago."
"Esther, oh my, you'll have to forgive me for not recognising you." Mostly because I'm terrible with faces and names. "How have you been?"
"I've been well. Mother wanted me to stay in the country, she thinks I'm too dull to find a husband during the Season and I should settle down with a wealthy merchant who is out title hunting." She looks around, probably trying to work out whether or not her mother is listening in.
"How did you convince her to let you try?" I ask, settling into the comfort I remember from our dancing lesson days. Esther has never been the kind of girl who shines the brightest, but I always found myself enjoying her company.
"Father insisted. He wants me to at least try and find myself a rich and titled husband. Mother had to give in eventually, but she hates it." She nods in the direction of an older woman who looks just like her in a brightly coloured gown with two huge peacock feathers jutting out of her hair.
And here I am thinking the feathers are just for those of us being presented. Maybe it's different for avian shifters. I've never had any in-depth conversations with anyone about it to be sure.
"Well I'm glad that we get to do this together," I say. "It'll be nice to have someone I already know to talk to at the balls." And to dance with if there aren't enough gentlemen. Esther may not be the most outgoing of people, but she is a delightful dance partner. It's how we got to know one another during our classes.
Our conversation is ended by the arrival of my sister who touches my hand lightly. "Victoria, it's our turn."
I nod. "I'm coming," I assure her. "It was lovely to see you again. I'll see you at the ball after," I say to Esther.
She smiles a little uneasily. "I look forward to it."
I follow Denise over to a set of double doors where Mama stands waiting for us with an impatient expression on her face.
We silently get into position, waiting for the doors to be opened and for us to have to walk in and be presented to the Shifter Queen.
I long to scrunch up my dress in my hands in an attempt to soothe my nerves, but I don't. Everything about today focuses around the first impression we make, not just as individuals, but as a family as well.
The loud clunk of the doors opening sends my heart into a spin and I have to wonder whether anyone else can hear it pounding.
"Miss Victoria Foxe, and Miss Denise Foxe, presented by their mother, the Honourable Lady Oxinforth," a footman calls.
All eyes in the room turn to us, though thankfully not because of the ridiculousness of a family of fox shifters using the surname Foxe. Many of the noble shifter families use some form of their animal as their surname as to show the rest of the court who they are.
As serenely as possible, I make my way to the front of the room, keeping an eye on how quickly Denise is moving too. Everyone is judging us together, which means we need to put on a united front.
The Shifter Queen sits on her throne looking rather bored with the proceedings. I don't think I blame her. Having dozens of young women paraded in front of her probably isn't the most diverting entertainment.
Her dress is impressively lavish, with as much embroidery and ribbons that it can hold. Our outfits are overly drab in comparison.
We reach the front of the room before I'm ready to. But at the same time, I'm glad the ordeal is nearly over.
Mama hovers behind us, no doubt wanting to instruct us, but knowing that she shouldn't.
As one, Denise and I dip into the curtsies we've been practising our entire lives. We may not always enjoy our identical appearances, but we know when to use them to our advantage, and this is one such occasion.
My legs begin to burn as I hold myself in the position until the Queen nods and lets us rise once more.
Without saying a word, Denise and I rise as one and begin our walk backwards, never taking our eyes off the front. No matter what happens, no one is supposed to turn their backs on her. It never used to be the case, but the custom is more prevalent in the human court and seeped through to ours as a result.
The moment we're out of the throne room, I let out a small sigh of relief. But I still need to be careful. There are still plenty of people around, some of them suitors themselves, others are parents or siblings of said suitors.
And yet more are now rivals for the attention of the marriage-minded men of the Shifter Court. This is the perfect event for them to work out which of the ladies at the future balls and gatherings are shifters. There will be more shifter-only events over the course of the Season, but for the most part, we will all be attending events alongside the humans and perhaps even some other supernaturals.
"You did well," Mama says. "Both of you. But we should make haste home so we can prepare for the ball. And the two of you should rest too. It's going to be a long night of dancing."
"I cannot wait," I say before Denise can express her desire to sit out the event. Mama won't let her and it will only look bad.
We make our way out of the room, being careful to stop at and make small talk with the women we already know. Not to do so would cause a potential scandal and none of us can risk that.
I'm already exhausted by the time we're back in the carriage, and I can't possibly imagine how I'm going to make it through the ball later. The rest Mama suggested is definitely going to be necessary. Hopefully, I'll be able to build up my stamina for the upcoming slew of events.
Three
Edmund
* * *
I enter the dining room to find Mother already eating. I gesture for one of the servants to bring me a plate and take my seat at the head of the table.
"Edmund dear, I didn't think you would be joining me this evening," Mother says with a guilty glance at her plate.
"I didn't think my meetings would be over so soon," I admit.
A plate appears in front of me. "What are we having?" I ask the servant.
"Venison in plum sauce, My Lord," he replies.
"Very good, that'll be all, we'll serve our own wine."
He bows, but not quite quickly enough for me to catch his grateful smile. By dismissing them now, the servants will be able to have their own dinner at a reasonable time, something I strive to do whenever possible.