Her Perfect Match

chapter Three


There was a mantra running through Vivien’s head as she entered her ballroom a few days after her birthday.

Celebrate Friends, Celebrate Friends, Celebrate Friends.

She couldn’t help but smile as she allowed the repetition to run over and over through her mind. It was one of the items on her unfinished business list. Once she had completed it, she would take the first step to her escape from London and the life she led here. The first step toward starting over.

It was certainly a most pleasant step to take, which is why she had begun here. She stared across the ballroom and found Lysandra and Mariah standing together with their husbands at their sides. Even though she felt a brief twinge of something a little unpleasant, she swallowed that back and instead enjoyed what she saw.

Lysandra had come to her two years before, a perfect stranger and an innocent one at that, begging for help. Vivien had arranged for her to be matched, albeit temporarily, with Viscount Andrew Callis and the two had fallen deeply in love. Vivien had been taken aback by the outcome. She had matched dozens of gentlemen with new mistresses over the years and had never seen one couple marry.

And then, just a year later, it had happened again. This time with her best friend Mariah and John Rycroft. Although, to be fair, she had not exactly matched them. But she had encouraged their relationship.

But that fact mattered little. She had gone from being called the Mistress Matchmaker to the Mistress Marriage Matron almost overnight. And while most of that was teasing from friends, she had noticed fewer gentlemen asked her for help in finding a new mistress.

Still, she couldn’t complain. Vivien had become close friends with Lysandra since the Viscountess wed and could see how truly happy the younger woman was. The match had been beneficial to her husband too. Andrew had gone from grief-stricken recluse to a man who laughed and loved.

The same was very much true for Mariah and John. In the end, she was happy for her friends.

Which was why she was hosting this fete tonight in celebration of their two unions. It was a far smaller gathering than most of her parties, without the sexual overtones hanging in the air. No, it was just a party amongst friends.

As she smiled, Lysandra caught her eye from across the room and moved toward her.

“You have a very odd expression on your face,” her friend laughed as she slipped an arm around her waist.

Vivien returned the laughter even as she marveled at Lysandra’s transformation over the past two years. She had gone from shy and frightened to a composed and confident lady. Love had done that for her.

“I do not mean to look odd, that is certain,” Vivien said. “I was just pondering how happy I am for both you and Mariah, but also how your matches have lessened my requests from gentlemen to find new mistresses.”

Lysandra shook her head. “Oh dear. I suppose many fear you will curse them with wives, not lovers. Heaven forbid.”

Vivien shrugged. “It matters little. I did the service for one gentleman years ago and it somehow became a business of sorts. It was never something I asked to do. I shall not miss it.”

She blinked as she looked around her once again. There were things she would miss when she was gone, though.

“This is a lovely party,” Lysandra said, seemingly oblivious to Vivien’s thoughts. “You were so kind to host it for us.”

“Both of you have friends in our sphere,” Vivien explained. “I realized I had been remiss in not celebrating your happiness with our friends. And I am happy to see such a good turnout when—”

She broke off and felt the blood drain from her face. Across the room, the crowd had parted slightly and she thought she had seen…

But no. It wasn’t possible. Benedict Greystone had not been on the guest list tonight. She always checked those things carefully so she would never be taken off guard by his presence in her ballroom or anyone else’s.

“Vivien?” Lysandra asked. “What were saying?”

Vivien shook her head and opened her mouth to continue with her line of thought, but before she could, the crowd shifted a second time and her first thought was confirmed.

Benedict. In her home. Not ten feet away from her.

“I—why is Benedict Greystone here?” she whispered, unable to keep a slight crack from her voice.

Lysandra followed her line of sight and looked at him, then slowly turned her gaze back to Vivien. “I—er—we invited him.”

Vivien blinked and tore her stare away from him to put it on her friend. “You did? But I did not see him on the guest list.”

Lysandra shrugged, but her discomfort was evident.

“He is a friend of Andrew’s, you know, from school. We saw him at the park yesterday afternoon and somehow the topic turned to this event. He seemed very interested in the subject, so we invited him.”

Vivien said nothing. She tried not to look at him, but it was an impossible battle. She shot a side glance in his direction and her stomach fluttered. Dear God, but he was handsome. With dark hair, stormy gray eyes and broad shoulders, he always seemed to have stepped from the pages of a novel. A very naughty novel, as she considered all of his attributes when he was naked.

“I’m sorry,” Lysandra continued, her voice dragging Vivien away from her thoughts. “I intended to tell you and it slipped my mind. I realize you two once…well, you were…”

Vivien arched a brow. Lysandra was still such an innocent.

“Lovers,” she supplied.

“Yes. I should have told you. Is it horribly uncomfortable?”

Vivien swallowed. A loaded question if ever there was one. Was it uncomfortable to see the last man she had ever called protector? The one who she had shared such a passion with that it still resonated within her, no matter how she tried to forget him? The one who had told her he loved her? The one she had walked away from for so very many reasons.

“Of course not,” she said with little strength to her voice. “Everyone knows that Benedict and I have stayed on very good terms over the years. I always enjoy seeing him.”

Lysandra stared at her and Vivien could see she didn’t truly believe her. Did that mean her conflicted emotions were obvious? That would not do.

“In fact, I should go and welcome him, since I did not do so earlier.”

Lysandra nodded. “Would you like me to come with you?”

Vivien hesitated. There would be some comfort in having a buffer there when she spoke to Benedict. But he would know that was her reason for bringing her friend when she spoke to him. Showing him that weakness was not wise.

“I see Andrew eyeing you from across the room,” she said with a motion toward the handsome Viscount. “You should join him and return your thoughts to those here to celebrate you. I’m perfectly capable of talking to Benedict on my own.”

Lysandra smiled. “Of course.”

Her friend stepped away and Vivien thrust her shoulders back as she began the short walk across the room to Benedict’s side. She could do this. She had talked to him dozens of times since their parting. There was nothing different about this time.

Except that he was now her final item on a list of loose ends to resolve before she departed London forever. Only she wasn’t certain she could ever truly resolve her complicated feelings for him.

Still, she smiled as she reached his side and prepared to pretend that his presence here meant nothing to her.



Benedict saw Vivien coming across the room in his direction from the moment she turned ever so slightly. But that was nothing new. Whenever they were in the same space, he couldn’t help but be utterly aware of her and her every move. Her every breath. That was the curse of his feelings for her. They forced him to track her when he knew he should not.

His distraction must have been obvious, for the people he had been talking to a moment before moved off and left him alone as Vivien reached his side with a smile he knew too well. It was her false “mistress” expression meant to soothe and seduce. It wasn’t real.

“Benedict,” she said as she reached for his hands. She squeezed them briefly and then let them go, but the touch blasted him back in time to a night when they had lain out on the grass after making love, holding hands and staring up at the stars.

“Vivien,” he managed to croak out. “This is a lovely party you have thrown together for your friends.”

She tilted her head. “Yes. It isn’t my usual kind of event, but I’m happy to celebrate all four of them and their marriages.”

He swallowed back a biting word about her lack of desire for her own marriage and instead smiled. “Both the couples do look very happy.”

She shifted ever so slightly and then rushed into a new topic.

“How have you been? I have not seen you in…it must be a few months.”

Benedict pursed his lips. It had been four months, six days.

“Right after Christmas, I think it was,” he said. “I returned to London to take care of some business and saw you at the opera, wasn’t it?”

Her eyes widened when he could recount so many details, but he shook his head. If only she knew that he could recall even more. Like how her blonde hair had been styled in a different way that night. Like how she had smelled of lemons and rosewater. Like the exact cut and color of her blue gown.

He kept those details to himself. She had already rejected the idea that he would notice them. Rejected him. There was no changing that.

“I think you are correct,” she said. “How have you been since then?”

“Very well,” he replied, keeping up the same charade that she was. That they were acquaintances. “My family is well.”

“Good.” She remained smiling, but he could see the slight twitch in her cheek. Vivien had always known that his family did not approve of the relationship they’d shared.

Benedict clenched his hands at his sides. She had used that fact in her parting with him. Hidden behind their disapproval in a cowardly display when he knew there was more to her rejection of his heart. She had told him to move on with his life. And since that was what she wanted…

“I am being encouraged to marry,” he said, watching her carefully for her response. “And I believe it may well be time for me to make that commitment.”

She blinked. That was her only response. Just a flutter of her eyelids that betrayed she felt any deeper emotion about his announcement than she showed. It took her a moment to respond.

“I suppose it is time for you to pursue a new future.” She hesitated as if she was going to say more, but didn’t.

“Yes. A new future,” he repeated, but there was no pleasure in the words he spoke. They felt like sand on his tongue.

She tilted her head. “You do not wish for this?”

He bit back surprise that she would be so direct. “You know what I wish for.”

Now it was her turn to draw back. “Benedict—”

He waved his hand to silence her. “Please do not go through all your reasons for rejecting me. I have heard them all.”

She was silent for a moment, watching him with a hooded gaze he could not read. Then she moved closer. “Benedict, it is true I cannot accept any future you have offered me. We both know why.”

Except he didn’t, but he said nothing and she continued.

“But I would be lying if I told you that I didn’t still…think of you. Of us.”

He stared. Was this happening? Was she truly saying these things after three years of polite distance and pretending to be friends?

“You do,” he said, flat and emotionless for he feared revealing too much.

She nodded. “It seems there is unfinished business between us. On both sides. And since everything is about to change, I wonder if we should resolve that business, if only so it won’t haunt us.”

“What are you saying?” he asked softly.

She swallowed and her voice trembled as she whispered, “Be with me again.”

He stared at her for he didn’t know how long. This was like a dream. Or a nightmare he had lived out before.

Vivien shifted with discomfort. “Benedict?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m certain I didn’t understand you correctly. Will you repeat the question?”

Blood rushed to her cheeks, making them pink. He had so rarely seen her bashful that he stared at the sight.

“We have something still between us, Benedict. Before everything changes, I would like to resolve it. I want to be with you.”

“Vivien,” he whispered. “Why now?”

She was silent for so long that he thought she might not answer. Then she looked him in the eyes. “Why not?”

But as he stared into the blue depths of her gaze, he saw something deep within that he thought she did not mean to share. A secret, a hesitation, something she was not saying.

And fear was there too. Fear which wasn’t like her.

She reached out and squeezed his arm. He felt her touch crash though him like lightning and he almost recoiled from its power.

“Don’t decide this very moment,” she insisted. “I will wait for you tonight after the party. If you come to my room…you come.” She emphasized the word so there was no doubt to its meaning. “If you don’t…I understand and I will wish you nothing but the best.”

She released him and stepped away. Without another word, she scurried into the crowd and left him standing, wrecked in her wake and totally uncertain of what he should do.

She offered him a return to the happiest time of his life. A sweet taste of passion and pleasure and all the love he still felt for her. But he knew that taste came at a cost. She had already made it very clear that they would never be together beyond an affair, beyond sex.

His brother had been telling him for years to walk away from Vivien. But he had never been able to do that.

And now might not be any different.