Lady Beresford's Lover (24 page)

Even now and at this distance, Vivian cringed at the prospect of writing to inform her father she would not agree to the marriage. A better idea would be to leave Town as she had intended. In fact, this might be the perfect time to travel to the Continent. Surely he wouldn’t follow her over there. If he could even find her. She would disguise herself. Lord knew she now had plenty of experience.

Vivian drew in a shaky breath. Father and her prospective husband were not due to arrive for another week. That would give her time to think and coordinate her travel. Clara could pretend Vivian had not received the letter. On the other hand . . .

The door opened and Clara glided in. “Your maid said you were in a taking. What has happened?”

Vivian waved her to the chair opposite hers. “I received a note from Father telling me he has arranged a match. All that is needed is my signature on the settlement documents. He and the other gentleman shall arrive in London next week. He plans to open Brackford House and expects me to remove there until my wedding.”

“Is
that
all?” Clara’s tone was light, but her chin firmed, ready to do battle. She rose, went to the sideboard, poured two glasses of wine, handed one to Vivian, and resumed her seat. “If I were not a lady, there are a great many appropriate oaths I can think of to utter at the moment.”

“I believe I already did.” Vivian grimaced. “I do not understand how he thought I would simply go along with his scheme. That was the reason I chose not to go home to my parents after my husband died.”

“Who knows how gentlemen think.” Clara cast her eyes to the ceiling. “It is a mystery to me and always has been. Although, it is most likely your history of doing as you are told that got him this far. Not that it is at all your fault. Any reasonable man would have at least approached you with the idea before making all the arrangements.”

“Well, I shall not agree to his proposal.” Vivian twirled her glass of wine, took one sip, then another. She must keep her wits about her, and she couldn’t do that if she tried to drown her problem. Not only that, she had a drawing room to attend with Rupert in a few hours. “I shall put forward my plan to visit properties.”

“When asked, I would, of course, say it was not my business to inquire of you exactly where you had gone.” Her cousin sipped her wine. “But unless you intend to hide forever, he will keep pushing you to do as he wishes.”

“You’re right.” Vivian dropped her head into her hands, wishing there was another way. She dreaded the contretemps her decision would cause. “I shall have to confront him. I’ll inform him that I will not re-marry.”

Clara studied Vivian for a few moments. “Wait a few days. It might not hurt for you to write him as you’re leaving Town.”

“That is exactly what I will do.” She gave her cousin what was probably a wan smile. “Thank you.”

“We shall muddle through.” Clara grinned like a sly cat. “Some resolution is bound to reveal itself. It always does.”

“I shall trust you to be right.” As they rose, Vivian hugged Clara tightly. “I’m glad you have had more luck than I.”

“It’s time your life took a turn for the better.” And on that bracing thought, Clara strode out of the room.

T
hree hours later, Vivian descended the stairs dressed in a Mexican-blue Gros de Naples silk walking gown. Rupert was already waiting for her. When he smiled, a look came into his eyes very much like the one he used with Cleo. Could it be he was attracted to both of them, or was he a rake in sheep’s clothing?

When Vivian glanced at him again, the look had disappeared. It must have been her imagination, and her wish that a gentleman could want her that way.

She placed her hand on the arm he held out. “Good afternoon, my lord.”

Rupert inclined his head. “Good day, my lady. Shall we go?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” She gave him a warm smile. “Thank you for this treat.”

“One of many I have planned for you,” he responded in a soft tone that sent pleasurable shivers down her spine.

She was going mad if she thought he actually meant anything by it. Hadn’t her husband courted her on their honeymoon and the minute they returned to Beresford gone back to his mistress? Well, this time she knew the game. Rupert would be with Cleo at night, and escort Vivian during the day. Perhaps he had decided it was not time to marry. What better way to avoid marriage-minded misses than by escorting a widow about Town?

If only she could cease her growing feelings for him. Still, the few times her husband had been in bed with her, he had never been kind, and Rupert was much more than that. He was loving and everything any woman could want from a man. Every time she tried to make sense of it, her head swam. She would certainly go mad if she kept this up.

“Oh, this isn’t your phaeton.” Vivian gazed at the light blue landau trimmed in gold with Rupert’s crest on the door. The darker blue convertible top had been put down. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it.” He waited as a footman opened the door, then assisted her up the steps. “The phaeton would have been impractical. This will be taken home and will return in a few hours to collect us.” He settled himself next to her on the seat. “Although, I’ll wager you will be having so much fun you won’t want to leave.”

Her heart lightened. He was fun to be with and she always had a wonderful time with him. The only thing to do was stop worrying and overthinking what was happening between them. In less than a week, they would go their own ways. She would be a pleasant memory for him, and she would find a way to recover from her broken heart. For now, she was determined to enjoy his company. “As long as the conversation is not about young ladies finding matches, I am positive I will have a perfectly lovely time.”

Rupert barked a laugh. “I see you’ve been attending too many morning visits and teas.” He took her fingers in his hand and held them. “To-day you will be subjected to discussions on art, poetry, and radical political thinking.” He glanced down at her and his eyes danced with mirth. “And those are merely her usual guests. Only God knows who her ladyship has invited now that they are back from the Orient.”

A few minutes later they rolled to a stop in front of a perfectly normal-looking town house. However, once inside, Lord and Lady Thornhill’s love of travel could be seen everywhere. The couple greeted them dressed in long, brightly colored and embroidered robes over petticoats.

“Stanstead.” Lord Thornhill shook Rupert’s hand. “I’m glad you could come.”

Rupert’s other hand was securely on the small of Vivian’s back. “Thank you for asking me. My lady, please allow me to introduce you to our host, Lord Thornhill. My lord, Lady Beresford.”

The older man, still trim, with salt-and-pepper hair, bowed. “A pleasure. This”—he chuckled—“as you might guess, is my beautiful wife, Lady Thornhill.”

Her ladyship held out her hand, and Vivian shook it. “My pleasure to see you again. Lady Evesham told me about your drawing rooms, and I’ve looked forward to them.”

A smile creased the corners of Lady Thornhill’s eyes. There appeared to be little artifice about the woman or her husband. The couple were clearly masters of their universe, a state of being Vivian admired and envied, particularly in her current circumstances. “You will see the Eveshams in a little while, I’m sure. In the meantime, feel free to introduce yourself to anyone you don’t know, or join any conversation.”

“Before we join your other guests,” Rupert said, “please tell me where your garb comes from.”

“Japan,” Lord Thornhill answered. “We were inspired by the bright colors and ease of movememt.”

As they strolled toward the voices drifting down the corridor, Vivian almost froze. Just walk up to someone and start talking? Introduce herself? How on earth was she to get along here?

Rupert must have sensed her unease for he whispered, “You won’t flounder. You are as intelligent, if not more so, than anyone present. Besides, I’ll be here for you.”

“Thank you.” She breathed in and out again. “I’ll be fine.”

“You shall.” His ever ready grin was present. “I have faith in you even if you don’t have it for yourself. Come, let’s see if I recognize anyone.”

They were shortly involved in a conversation about whether the government should send the Elgin Marbles back to Greece. A short while later they left that debate only to be embroiled in a conversation on how best to bring about universal suffrage. The lady espousing the viewpoint was firm in her opinions that women as well as all men should have the right to vote. Vivian had read about the idea, but the thought that ladies were actively promoting it was something she had never considered.

“Universal suffrage will not happen in our lifetime,” Rupert said. “But I have hopes for my children or grandchildren.”

“If we continue on the path to social reform that we have begun, I think it may occur more quickly,” the lady responded.

“Ah, but you are forgetting,” a gentleman chimed in, “the fear instilled in the more conservative segments of our government by the French Revolution and the uprisings in the countryside.”

A small hand touched her elbow. “I agree it should be sooner rather than later,” Anna Rutherford, opined. She gathered Rupert and Vivian with her glance. “Phoebe and Marcus are here as well. This is a good place to have a comfortable coze.” She linked arms with Vivian. “Are you enjoying yourself, or is it a bit overwhelming?”

“It is certainly not what I am used to.” Vivian struggled to describe what she was feeling. “I find it exhilarating.”

“I think that is the reason I enjoy these drawing rooms as well. One is introduced to different ways of thinking.”

Phoebe and Anna, who had claimed the long window seat overlooking a side garden, moved over to make a place for Vivian. She had never felt so included in a circle before. These women had become friends so quickly. They had instantly accepted her for who she was, not who they wanted her to be.

Their husbands were friendly as well, but she knew they were concerned about her intentions toward Rupert. She stifled a laugh. If only they knew about Cleo, they would not be apprehensive.

Footmen walked through the room with drinks and small tidbits of food. Rupert snatched a glass of what Vivian had thought was tea in a small cup. She took a sip and almost sputtered it out. “What is this?”

“Sake,” Marcus answered. “Wine made from rice.” He held up a small roll that had been fried. “This is a spring roll. Keep your mind open, and you’ll find a number of new dishes.”

“How do you know about them?”

“All sorts of races live and pass through the West Indies,” he said. “I enjoy new experiences and different foods.”

“Give me an English meat pie anytime,” Lord Rutherford said.

Anna cuffed him on his shoulder. “Don’t be stodgy.”

His eyes warmed. “You love coffyns.”

“I do.” She raised her chin and took a bite of one of the spring rolls. “I also like these.”

Phoebe laughed. “She doesn’t allow him to get away with anything.”

Marcus laid his hand possessively on her shoulder. “And you do?”

“Never.” Phoebe’s eyes softened as she gazed upon her husband. “It is a woman’s job to keep her husband moving forward.”

What it would be like to have that sort of love and respect in a marriage, Vivian could not imagine. Her mother and father certainly did not have a marriage like her friends did.

Salts and spices she had never tasted teased her lips as Rupert held a small amount of a spring roll to them. She opened as she had done for him last night. Vivian wanted to moan remembering how he had possessed her.

“Try it.”

She bit down. Unlike English pasties, the roll crunched and splintered. Holding her serviette under her chin, she chewed. Even the vegetables were unusual. “Umm, this is delicious.”

“It is.” Heat lurked in his eyes, making them silver. The color they were when she was Cleo.

He was so close that for a brief moment she thought he would kiss her. Here. In front of everyone. Then he blinked and increased the distance between them. Her heart sank. She should not have got her hopes up. Still, she wanted to be in his arms again, even if he thought she was another woman. And despite enjoying the drawing room, Vivian wanted nothing more than for the hours until this evening to fly, so she could be with Rupert again. In his arms and in bed.

“Taste this as well.”

“What is it?” Vivian asked as she opened her lips.

“A type of seafood called crab meat.” Rupert waited until the morsel was in Vivian’s mouth before he ate another piece. “Do you like it?”

“I do, and I sincerely hope this type of entertainment becomes all the crack.”

Vivian smiled at him, making him wish they were alone on Hill Street. He wanted nothing more than pull her into his arms and make love to her. Feed her these delicacies in bed. If he lived to be one hundred, he could not conceive of a lovelier lady, a more interesting woman, a more perfect person to spend the rest of his life with. If only he knew how long it would take before she would agree to be his.

 

Several hours passed before he looked at his watch. “We are all going to be late for dinner or anything else.”

“I can’t eat another bite,” Vivian said just after swallowing another glass of rice wine.

“I am satisfied as well.” Anna leaned against the window embrasure.

Touching her now rounded stomach, Phoebe gave a comical frown. “I’ll be hungry in an hour.”

“Shall we make our way home?” Marcus glanced around the room. “The company is thinning.”

“I think we must.” Rupert held out his hand to Vivian as she dislodged herself from the comfortable window seat. “Let’s find Lord and Lady Thornhill.”

Several rooms on the main floor were open for their guests. Vivian exclaimed over the art and fabrics bought in faraway places that were displayed in the long gallery.

Vivian had said she’d never traveled, and he would enjoy taking her to see other countries and seeing her pleasure in them, allowing her to experience the differences in culture. The steamships he had seen being developed would make travel faster than the sailing ships, and allow them to make trips that did not require long periods of time away from his estates.

They found their host and hostess in another room holding forth on some of their artifacts, and bid them adieu.

As they strolled to the hall, Vivian glanced at Rupert. “Do you think they obtained all their art and whatnot legally?”

“Oh yes. Lord Thornhill made a comment about how dear some of the items were and the thoroughness of the inspections the authorities conducted when they left the countries. The Thornhills insisted upon ensuring they took no national treasures.” He paused for effect. “Except for the cook. I think they may have smuggled him out.”

Vivian’s laugh was everything Rupert wanted. “I would have smuggled him out as well,” he said.

“I’m going to have to rest before this evening.”

He kept his voice even as he asked, “Which party are you attending?”

“I may not.” Vivian’s tone was airy, but there was an undercurrent of uneasiness. “Cousin Clara and Silvia are going out, of course, but I may retire early.”

Blast it all.
When would she work it out that he knew she was posing as Cleo? He’d been dropping subtle hints by looking at her as he had last night. If she didn’t do it on her own, he would be forced to enlighten her. That, he was not looking forward to.

When they arrived in Mount Street, he escorted her to the door. “To-morrow, shall we drive out to Richmond? It’s lovely this time of year.”

She swayed a bit. The rice wine must have affected her more than he’d thought.

“That sounds wonderful.”

Rupert kissed Vivian’s hand. “Until we meet again.”

Thirty minutes later, Miss Punt scurried out the gate to the gardens. “What did you do to her ladyship?”

He held up his hands in surrender. “Not me. There was a different type of wine at the gathering, and I think she might have imbibed too much.”

“She did at that.” The maid shook her head. “I hope she doesn’t have a headache.”

“As do I.” He handed her the parcel that had arrived from Madame Lisette while he was out. “This is for your mistress.”

Miss Punt nodded. “How long do you think your plan will take? Her father wrote her this morning and said he’d made a new match for her.”

Rupert bit off an oath. “When?”

“He’ll be here in a week.”

“Before then.” Of all the bad luck. Vivian deserved to be courted and wooed, not badgered into another bad marriage. “What can you tell me about her husband?”

“Dead is a good place for him to be.” Miss Punt’s lips firmed into a straight line. “I don’t know what exactly happened, but my poor mistress cried herself to sleep while that whore he kept acted like she hadn’t a care in the world. Everyone, except her ladyship, knew how things were. None of the servants took her orders unless they verified them with his lordship. Like as not, he’d change them, and do something his mistress wanted.”