Margaret Moore (17 page)

Nevertheless, every time they were stopped in this way, he gave Vivienne a sidelong glance, half afraid that he would detect some sign of dismay or disgust in her expression for the lower-class people with whom he regularly associated.

He never did. In fact, she seemed quite fascinated.

And then, finally, when they were within a half mile of the mercer’s buildings, they turned into a lane that ended in a brick wall at one end and twisted abruptly at the other. No windows looked out upon it, and it wasn’t malodorous with trash or offal.

“There is nobody here. And this seems so out of the way, there is not likely to be, I would guess,” Vivienne remarked as she stopped and turned to him with a pleased smile. “I knew you were an admirable man and worthy of respect, Robert Harding, but I had no notion you were so well liked.”

He blinked. “I don’t think I am liked. Appreciated, perhaps, for the work I do, but …” He shrugged.

“I saw it in the smiles of all those people when they greeted you, Rob. They like you as well as respect you, and I can understand why when I see you with them.”

She smoothed the front of his plain wool jacket. Even that simple caress was enough to make his heart race. “You are different then, or more like you were the night we met. I thought the second time I met you I must have been mistaken to believe you a kind man, but I know now that the man I met in Bankside is far more the real Robert Harding that the cold solicitor who came to my uncle’s house with Sir Philip.”

His heart seemed unsure how to beat, even as a part of him wondered if this was why he had brought her this way home, to see how she reacted. And perhaps to prove that he was admired and respected.

As for the apparent affection of people, he had always hoped it was so, but this was the first time anybody had given credence to those hopes, and that it should be Vivienne pleased him greatly.

Nevertheless, he felt honor-bound to take her by her slender shoulders, look down into her questioning blue eyes and say, “This is my world, Vivienne, and I have shown you the best of it, not the worst.”

She smiled. “Do you think to frighten me off with this demonstration? If so, I must tell you that you have failed miserably. I know that I have lived a somewhat coddled life, Rob, but anyone who lives in London has to comprehend that there are parts of it and lives being lived that are nearly beyond our ability to imagine.” She slipped her arms about his waist as she continued to regard him steadily. “With your education, you could have left London and gone to York or Salisbury or any other city in the country and started to practice law. You chose to stay. Why?”

“Because … because I thought I was needed, because I could understand the plight of the poor.”

Again she smiled, her expression lighting him as if from within. “Can you not see, Rob, that all you show and tell me only proves that you are an even better man than I suspected? Do you expect your noble generosity, your heartfelt wish to help people, to dissuade me? It will not.”

Her expression changed to one both questioning and worried. “Do you fear that one day I will grow disgusted with your life and desert you, too?”

In truth, he had not consciously thought that; yet, as he stared down into her sympathetic face, he knew that she had seen even deeper into his heart than he had. “Perhaps I do,” he admitted.

“Have no fear then, Rob,” she whispered softly. Tenderly. Affectionately. “Seeing you with those people only makes me love you more.”

Was it possible for the heart to swell, to feel as if it could joyfully burst the confines of your chest? At this moment, Robert believed that such a thing was indeed possible.

And then, in the next instant, he was kissing her, not with the passion that she always stirred within him, but with responding tenderness. Affection.

Love.

A more complete, total love than he had ever known.

His lips slipped along her soft cheek as he held her close, and he whispered in her ear, “Vivienne, my darling, my love, of all the things I had hoped for in my life, I had never foreseen how happy I could be, perhaps because there could have been no way of knowing that such a woman as you would cross my path, let alone come to care for me, and so quickly ….”

As he said that, a dark shadow fell across his hopeful path. “Vivienne, although I don’t doubt the strength of my feelings for you, or the sincerity of yours, this has happened so quickly.”

Her gaze faltered, and again his heart seemed to lose track of its natural rhythm. He was not sorry that he said what he had, for he believed it to be true.

Yet he wished it were not so.

Then she lifted her head and looked at him with firm conviction. “Rob, things happen quickly all the time. We both know that life can change in the seeming blink of an eye. One day, I had a mother and father who loved me, and each other. Three days later, I was an orphan. One day, you were a pickpocket, the next you had been given a wonderful opportunity to better your lot. One night, I was alone and desperate, and then a wonderful man appeared out of the fog to offer me hope.”

“Vivienne—”

She put her hand on his cheek. “Rob, you are wise to be cautious, I know, but please don’t let the speed with which our feelings have grown convince you that they will be any weaker for all that.”

“I just can’t believe that I should be so lucky in my life.”

“Lucky is not how I would describe your life.”

“Whatever I have endured has been rewarded by your love,” he murmured as he bent his head to kiss her once more, intending it to be as tender and gentle as before.

Yet how could it be, after hearing her determined, confident, heartfelt words? This time, as the passion flared within him, he could not subdue it.

With a low moan of surrender, he pressed her closer, reveling in the sensation of her curvaceous body against his. He slid his hand beneath her soft velvet cloak to the even softer silk of her bodice beneath. She relaxed against him, and he could feel her giving herself up to her desire, just as he was. His kiss deepened, and his tongue slipped easily through her parted lips to intertwine and taste.

Panting, he broke the kiss to trail his hungry lips along her throat as she arched back, as supple as a willow bending in the breeze.

He wanted her so much! He wanted to make love with her, possess her body as she possessed his heart and mind, take her at once, here …

In a back alley as if she were a Bankside whore?

Breathing heavily, fighting the powerful, natural urge singing in his veins, he forced himself to stop.

Her lips swollen, her eyes dark with desire, Vivienne looked at him with confusion.

“This isn’t what I want,” he said hoarsely. “Not like this.”

Understanding dawned, and Vivienne softly said, “Then come to me tonight, in my bedchamber, as you did before.”

He shook his head. “No, Vivienne. As tempting as that is, I don’t want to sneak about as if I am still some kind of thief, stealing your virtue dishonorably.

“I think we must not see one another alone again until Sir Philip’s suit is dispensed with. Then I will be able to court you honorably. And then, whatever happens, we know we tried to conduct ourselves as an honest man and woman who are unashamed of their feelings should.”

“When you put it in such terms, how can I disagree?” she replied. “But,” she continued, toying with the button of his jacket, “I will not like it.”

He covered her hand with his. “Nor will I. Indeed, I think it will be torture. Nevertheless, I believe it must be so. There must be no cause for scandal or shame, beyond that which we cannot avoid because of who I am.”

“Then I hope Sir Philip gives up very soon.” She smiled. “I do think my uncle is much less keen on him than before, thanks to Lord Cheddersby. And the king.”

“The king?” Robert said, his eyes widening.

“Yes. Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous? One meeting, and my uncle already has me ensconced in a house of the king’s providing, with servants and jewels and who knows what else.” She laughed softly. “There is no need to look so grave. I promise you, this is my uncle’s wishful thinking, and nothing more.”

She was so certain, he had to believe her, even though a part of him could easily accept that any man who set eyes on her would want her.

She slipped her arm through his and gave him a disarming smile. “As loath as I am to part with you, I fear we have lingered here long enough, especially if we do not want to give my uncle any hint about our feelings.”

“Good God, yes,” Rob cried, aghast that he had not thought of this himself. He started to walk quickly, Vivienne at his side.

“And it is not as if we will never see one another,” Vivienne remarked, slightly out of breath as she tried to keep up with him. “You will still come to my uncle’s house occasionally, I trust. And you will go to Lord Cheddersby’s fete, won’t you?”

She halted and forced him to stop, too. “Robert, I am not a racehorse. I cannot keep up with you if you go so quickly.”

“Forgive me.”

They started walking again, this time at a more reasonable pace as they entered another lane.

“You will come to Lord Cheddersby’s fete?” she asked.

He smiled down at her. “Yes, I’ll be there, torturing myself because I cannot touch you, but feasting on the sight of my love’s sweet face.”

“Speak to me in that manner any more today, Mr. Harding,” she warned him in a manner that was both teasing and serious, “and I will drag you to my bedchamber regardless of who might see us.”

“Here you are at last,” Uncle Elias declared as Vivienne entered the withdrawing room the evening of Lord Cheddersby’s fete. As usual, his first act was to survey her gown, in this case a truly delightful creation of pale blue damask silk, the outer skirt drawn back and held with satin ribbons to reveal an ornately embroidered silk petticoat. It was, Vivienne thought, one of the prettiest dresses he had ever had made for her. Her only concern was the scooped neckline, which was too low. Surely some of the fabric used for the full, puffed sleeves could have been spared for the bodice.

“Lovely, my dear,” Uncle Elias said approvingly. “And I see you’re wearing your hair in the fashion of the ladies of the court. It becomes you.”

Loose ringlets fell about her bare shoulders as current fashion decreed. Such a style was, perhaps, a bit daring, but considering that the ladies of the court had adopted it, and most especially since her hair had been loose that night when Rob had come to her bedchamber, she had decided to try it.

Uncle Elias’s brow furrowed as he continued to regard her. “You look quite flushed. Are you unwell?”

“No,” she blurted. She took a deep, calming breath and thought of an explanation her uncle would like. “I am so pleased to be going to Lord Cheddersby’s house. Lettice has told me it’s quite magnificent.”

“It is,” Uncle Elias confirmed. “As large as a palace, and quite on the edge of the city. Parts of it actually look out onto Hampstead Heath, so he’s spared all the noise and coal smoke.” He cocked his head. “Does this mean you would look favorably on him if he expressed an interest in marrying you?”

She lowered her eyelids as if bashful. “Well, he hasn’t done so yet.”

Uncle Elias smiled broadly as he sat on the sofa. “No, not yet. And with that in mind, I thought it wise to invite Sir Philip to accompany us in our coach tonight.”

“Sir Philip?” she asked, not hiding her surprise. “I didn’t realize Lord Cheddersby had invited him.”

She had been dreading another confrontation between Philip and Lord Cheddersby. Fortunately, she had seen neither one of them the past few days. Lord Cheddersby was no doubt busy with the preparations for his fete. As for her erstwhile suitor, she was beginning to hope he was starting to realize that his chances of securing her hand were fading.

Until, regrettably, this moment.

“He invited him,” Uncle Elias replied.

“And Sir Philip accepted?”

“Obviously. When he told me, I extended an invitation to share our coach, to which he eagerly agreed.”

“You have seen him recently?”

“Yesterday, at the coffeehouse.”

“But Uncle,” Vivienne protested, “if we arrive with Philip, what is Lord Cheddersby to think?”

“I hope he thinks he had better make his intentions more plain, and quickly, too.”

So, even if her uncle didn’t want Philip for a nephew by marriage, he would use him to prod another suitor into action.

Just as he used her as a dressmaker’s form.

“Mr. Burroughs, Sir Philip has arrived,” a footman announced from the door, and in the next moment, the young nobleman marched into the room. He nodded at Uncle Elias, who rose, bowed and returned to his seat.

Then Philip looked at Vivienne. Lust flared in his eyes, and she wished the bodice extended right up to her neck. She gave her uncle a sidelong glance, but apparently he saw nothing amiss in Philip’s behavior.

“You look splendid, Mistress Burroughs,” he declared, bowing low. “I shall be the envy of every man at Lord Cheddersby’s tonight, even the king.”

Uncle Elias sat bolt upright. “The king?”

“Yes. Haven’t you heard?” Philip replied, sauntering toward Vivienne. “He will be at Cheddersby’s fete.”

“I had no idea!” Uncle Elias replied, his eyes glowing with delight.

As upset as she was by Philip’s arrival, she was happy to have the king’s attendance confirmed. Charles’s appearance might distract Uncle Elias enough that she could slip away and meet Rob alone for a few too-brief moments.

“Did you know anything of this?” Uncle Elias asked her.

“Lord Cheddersby told me he had invited King Charles, but was not overly hopeful of his attendance, so I thought it wiser to say nothing.”

“Didn’t Lettice Jerningham say anything?”

“I haven’t seen Lettice in several days.”

“What of Lady Castlemaine?” Uncle Elias demanded of Philip. “Will she be there? Or the queen?”

“The queen is still recovering from her illness, so she will not be there, and as for my Lady Castlemaine, who knows? She may accompany the king, or she may be in a temper.”

Uncle Elias glanced at Vivienne again, and she could see that he was torn between his ambitious hopes for her and his own desire to see the king’s beautiful paramour.