Her Perfect Match (7 page)

“Oh yes.” Benedict nodded as if the statement were as solemn as a prayer. “He and his father and his father’s fathers have served our city for years. That is why their reputation is so great.”

Once again, Vivien felt uncomfortable in her very skin but pretended it away.

“And I see you have not resisted their lure either.” He motioned toward her books. “Might I look at your selections?”

She hesitated and clutched her books closer out of habit. She had often felt that the books one read were a peek into the soul of the reader. That was why her personal library was kept in a locked room very separate from the places where her visitors went for her wild parties. Sharing these selections with Benedict felt so very intimate.

“Of course, you are not obligated,” he said softly and began to withdraw his waiting hand.

She thrust the small stack toward him. “Certainly, you may look. As long as you promise not to take what I’ve chosen for your own.”

He laughed, but his face was unreadable as he looked at her titles. “Ah, a collection from Sir Walter Scott. Very nice, I’ve always liked his poetry.
Sense and Sensibility
, but surely you have read this one.”

She nodded after a moment. “Y-Yes. It is one of my favorites. I only rather liked this binding.”

He held his gaze on her for a moment and then nodded. “And finally,
Gulliver’s Travels
.” He blinked in disbelief. “Truly?”

She laughed. In truth, she had chosen the last book because it involved such a grand adventure that she felt, in some small way, it mimicked her own future.

“It was something different,” she lied.

He shrugged as he handed the books back to her. “And where will you go after this?”

“I think the British Museum,” she said, thinking of no reason to lie.

“Oh excellent, they have a newer exhibit there of some of the Roman sculptures. I have been aching to find time to see it,” he said with a clap of his hands. “I’m sure you’ll like it.”

She remained silent. Once again, she felt her ignorance and lack of experience in a way she was not accustomed to. When she didn’t respond, he stepped closer.

“You
have
been there, haven’t you?”

She swallowed. “No.”

“Great God, no? With your sensibilities?”

A shrug was all she could manage to maintain the illusion of distance. “As I said before, these weren’t exactly places I belonged.”

“Poppycock!” he burst out. “The Museum is a place for anyone of intelligence and that is most definitely you. But perhaps—”

He broke off and she stared at him. “Perhaps?”

He cleared his throat. “Perhaps you will allow me to be your escort, since you have never had the pleasure of the place and I am a frequent visitor.”

Vivien worried her lip. Enjoying London was one item on her list…Benedict was another. Spending a day with him
could
allow her to cross off two things at once. But merging him with the rest of her list…putting him too near the truth…it seemed rather
dangerous
.

And thrilling. And irresistible, despite the negatives.

“I would like a more experienced guide, but only if it will not disturb your own plans,” she said softly.

“Not at all,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Anything else on my agenda can be altered with ease. Why don’t you make your purchases and I will send your driver on his way. We will take my carriage.”

She looked toward the exit of the bookshop. “What about your purchases?”

“I’m certain Paddington has already put them on my account and handed them over to my servant.” He shrugged. “So all that is left to worry over is you. I will see you outside?”

She nodded blankly and watched him curve around the end of the bookshelves. She heard him call a quick farewell to Mr. Paddington, then the bell on the door jingled as he went outside to make arrangements and wait for her.

Slowly, she made her way to the counter to pay for her books, but each step felt as though it were out of a dream. How in the world had she been so utterly swept away in the middle of a bookstore?

And why didn’t she care, even though she knew the consequences could be devastating?

Benedict had lied about a great many things in his life. His latest lie was that he had nothing better to do on this day than take Vivien for a tour of London. In truth, he had several meetings scheduled, both with family and business associates. Ones he feared he would pay for missing.

But at that moment, sitting in his carriage across from Vivien, heading to one of his favorite escapes in London, he did not care. All the questions and frustration he would surely encounter tomorrow were worth it.

Vivien tucked a stray lock of blonde hair that had escaped her bun behind her ear. As her bright blue eyes darted from one part of the carriage to the next, he saw her pale with recognition.

“It’s been a long time since you rode in this rig,” he drawled.

She nodded, lifting her fingers to trace the fine leather seat beside her, then the shining mahogany wood trim near the window. “Yes,” she admitted. “I am surprised you still have it, let alone still drive it.”

Benedict pursed his lips. He had kept the thing for…well, a great many reasons. But he hadn’t taken it out for years, not until the night they last made love. Then suddenly he wanted to use this carriage.

“I keep it for its sentimental value,” he said, his voice harder. “It was the last place we made love before you ended our previous affair.”

She jerked her gaze to his and when he held it unflinchingly, she looked away. An uncommon blush darkened her cheeks. “But I suppose it is not the last place we made love anymore.”

He tilted his head. “I suppose not. Do you think I should sell it, then?”

She didn’t look at him. “It is hopelessly out of date. Why keep something like this just to cling to the past?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, Vivien. I ask myself that about a great many things. And yet I keep them.”

She glanced up and he could see how uncomfortable this conversation made her. Good. He had spent years feeling uncomfortable, angry, sad, broken…a great many unpleasant things. Let her have her share in them too.

“Living in the past isn’t right. It keeps us from our future,” she said softly.

Now it was his turn to shift with discomfort. They had turned from the benign topic of a carriage long ago and now that they were dancing around something deeper, he wasn’t sure how to proceed. In truth, Vivien had never allowed him to see much past her exterior. When he had, it had taken a great deal of work.

And why bother to do all that work when he knew in the end he still would not have what he desired most?

“Wise advice,” he said and turned to look out the window.

To his great relief, the large façade of Montagu House rose up before him, signaling the end to the carriage ride. As the driver stopped, Benedict said, “The Montagu family sold this place to the Crown for twenty thousand pounds over fifty years ago as a location for the museum.”

Vivien looked out as the door was opened by the footman. “It must have been nice to have an extra London estate just lying about to sell off.”

He laughed with her while she stepped onto the drive and looked up at the pretty former home. It was done in a classic style with vast gardens stretching out on the stroll before the entrance.

“Oh, it is beautiful,” she breathed. “I’ve always thought so, every time I’ve driven by.”

“Wait until you are inside,” he said, stepping out onto the drive beside her. “The wonders within are amazing.”

So often Vivien only displayed what Benedict had always called her “mistress face” around others. It was an expression of false brightness, of distant indulgence used to place herself away from her companion. But now as she practically vibrated with excitement, he felt he was with the
real
Vivien. That had happened a handful of times during their previous affair, and he had longed for those moments since.

But they had always been brief glimpses into the real woman Vivien was. When she realized she had given too much of herself, she always stepped away. He’d often wondered if that was the real reason they had parted ways: that Vivien feared he was getting too close to her true spirit.

He all but held his breath as he waited for her to force that façade back into place. Or to leave his side just so he would no longer see her girlish delight at the museum and the contents that awaited them.

Instead, she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and looked up at him with those same shining eyes and wide, real smile.

“I cannot wait another moment to see everything—shall we go in?”

For a moment, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move as he stared into her eyes and saw so much beauty, so much truth…but then he shook his head and led her into the museum. This was a rare opportunity. He refused to miss a moment of it while he pondered what he had done to deserve it.

Chapter Seven

Vivien clasped her hands together as the carriage jolted away from the British Museum three hours after their arrival. The late-afternoon sunshine streamed through the vehicle windows as she leaned closer to Benedict.

“And the Roman statues!” she gasped, continuing a line of conversation she had begun the moment they stepped from the museum onto the drive. “They are magnificent. When the gallery is fully finished, it will truly be a sight to see. The Venus was especially beautiful and—”

She broke off as a slow smile spread across Benedict’s face.

“I am rambling, aren’t I?” she asked as blood warmed her cheeks. “I have been going on and on for ten minutes and you have not had a word in edgewise.”

“I like it,” he said with a laugh that seemed to rumble through her body and into her very soul. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so animated before. You truly enjoyed yourself.”

She dipped her head. All day she had been too truthful, too open, but she couldn’t help it. This was like a moment stolen from time and she had chosen to enjoy it rather than distance herself from it.

“I did,” she admitted. “I cannot believe I’ve never gone before.”

“I hope you will go again,” he said softly. “There is talk they’re going to build a newer, larger complex to house all the exhibits and collections. It will be a few years before it comes to fruition, but that should be a great sight to see, as well.”

Vivien pursed her lips. This summer there would likely not be enough time for her to go to the museum again. And by the time a new and glorious complex was built, she would be long gone and forgotten.

Even by Benedict.

She smiled and felt the mask of the role she’d played for so long slide effortlessly into place. “For now, I fear my only destination shall be home.”

He arched a brow. “So the bookshop and the museum are all you will do on your quest to enjoy London?”

She shook her head at his teasing, taunting tone. “It would be impossible to do everything and
see
everything in London in a day. I would be a fool, a very tired fool, to try.”

He lifted one shoulder. “Perhaps you are correct. But I have one more suggestion of an experience to end your day.
If
you will trust me.”

Vivien stared at him. He had a half-smile on his face that made him look more boyishly handsome than ever. He was teasing, but the choice of his words made her stomach tense. Trust was a commodity hard to come by, even with Benedict.

Still, she found she didn’t want this day to end. Slowly, she nodded. “Very well. What do you have in mind?”

“A secret,” he laughed. “You’ll see soon enough.”

She glanced out the carriage window to find they had turned away from the main areas of London, away from her home, and were now heading into the parts of the city where buildings were smaller and more spread apart.

“What if I had refused your request?” she said with a shake of her head.

He laughed. “Then I would have had my carriage turned around, of course.”

She folded her arms with a smile she couldn’t help. “You are always so certain of yourself.”

His smile faded slightly. “Never with you. You forever set me off my axis.”

He inched closer and suddenly there was a tension in the carriage that had nothing to do with teasing flirtation or friendly discussion. He wanted her.

And Vivien wanted him equally.

She leaned forward and whispered, “Should I apologize for affecting you so?”

He shook his head slowly. “No. I
like
being off-kilter.”

“Good,” she said as she moved to the seat next to him and leaned up for a kiss. “Because it’s devilishly fun to set you that way.”

His lips brushed hers and all her words vanished in an instant, replaced by sensation so powerful that her knees went liquid and her heart raced to an alarming rate.

He glided his arms around her, cradling her in an embrace that was gentle, emotional and yet possessive at the same time. She felt his passion for her, but also a shadow of those deeper feelings he had once confessed to her. His love.