Twenty-four
Vivi brushed her fingers over the speckled, waxy petals of the orchid and blew out a long breath. Given time to stew over her encounter with Owen, she had come to realize holding on to Luke forever was going to be impossible. Sorrow began to swell within her heart, filling her chest with a despairing ache.
She had wanted to run away from her past, but today only proved there was no escape. No matter where she went, her mistake would shroud everything in ugliness. Luke might marry her before he learned the truth, but how could he do anything but hate her later for lying to him?
Under normal circumstances, if word of her ruin became common knowledge, she would be marked as loose and excluded from most respectable gatherings. Losing her innocence to a servant, however, would see her banned from every ballroom in London. She would be a pariah, and she would take Luke’s family down with her.
That she remained unspoiled mattered not. She had been found in a state of disarray in Owen’s company. As her brother had reminded her when he’d ranted until she thought he might pass out from the exertion, gossips were eager to believe and spread rumors. Another’s ruin was a form of entertainment for the perpetually bored. Innocence didn’t matter. And Vivi’s reckless behavior would reflect as badly on him and Muriel as it did on her. Lady Ashden had been beside herself and took to bed upon hearing the tale.
She had become a liability to her brother and sister-in-law, and now she was putting Luke’s family at risk. She must tell him the truth and offer to speak with her brother if that was still his wish. Her throat ached at the idea of him accepting.
Yet, he must if he cared for his family. He couldn’t bring her into the fold, noble birth aside, not if he wanted the best for his sisters.
One rotten apple spoils the whole bushel.
Tears welled in her eyes and she swiped them away. She would go to the convent quietly this time. Even if her brother agreed to allow her to reside at Brighthurst House, she couldn’t return. Patrice finally had a chance for happiness with her far away and out of mind. In Dunstable, Vivi would always be considered a fallen woman and a constant reminder that Patrice bore relations who rendered her unsuitable for the position of vicar’s wife. She couldn’t ask her cousin to give up a life with Vicar Ramsey, especially now that Vivi knew what it was like to love another person.
She placed Luke’s note on the dressing table and prepared to summon her maid to dress her for the evening’s entertainments. Charades, the duchess had announced with much enthusiasm when they had taken tea earlier.
Vivi’s heart ached anew. She could love Luke’s family very much if she were to marry him. With only three days left to bask in the warmth of belonging someplace, she shoved her worries to a corner of her mind. She would make memories tonight that she could recall in the lonely days ahead.
A soft knock sounded at her door before it eased open. Luke slipped into her chambers then turned the lock.
“Your Grace, what are you doing?”
His gaze paused on the pot of orchids before settling on her. His blue eyes sparkled like sapphires and he grinned, the gap between his teeth showing. How she would miss the small imperfections that seemed so perfect on him. She grew misty-eyed again.
“Vivian?” His merriment vanished as he came forward to wrap her in his arms. “What’s wrong?”
A burning ball clogged her throat and prevented her from speaking. Molasses. Must she cry now? As if acknowledging their existence was the same as permission to come, more tears sprang to her eyes.
He touched his thumb to her cheek when they began to slide down her cheeks. “Am I responsible for your tears?”
“No.” She choked on a sob. “Not directly.”
Luke gathered her against him. “Shh. Whatever it is cannot be so bad as to warrant tears. Please, don’t cry.”
His words, which were likely meant to soothe her, had the opposite effect. Great hiccupping sounds burst from her.
Vivi was an ugly crier. She always had been. And if she kept up this nonsense, her nose would turn bright red and start running.
Luke snuggled her closer, tucking her head under his chin. “There, there, love.”
Those words of comfort had always struck her as odd. What did they mean? There, there what?
There, there. You’re making a fool of yourself. There, there. You’re behaving like a silly girl.
“I’ll soil your shirt,” she croaked. When she tried to wriggle free, he held her firmly in place.
“I care nothing for my shirt. I’d as soon take it off.” He slanted a teasing look down at her. “What do you say?”
She laughed despite her misery. How unfair to be so close to being loved by this man and know she was losing him.
You only have yourself to blame.
She backed out of his embrace. “I should ready myself for the evening festivities.”
“Soon.” He scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bed, laying her on the counterpane.
“Luke, I will be late if I don’t—”
“I won’t keep you long.”
His words were like a dagger between her ribs and stole her breath.
He joined her on the bed and propped up on his elbow beside her. His fingers trailed down her cheek and over her lips. There was a question in his gaze, a furrow between his brows.
“Why were you crying?”
She swallowed hard lest she start bawling again. “I don’t know.”
“Did you and Miss Truax have a quarrel today?”
“No.” She snorted. Miss Truax was the last person on her mind, and she was more likely to cheer if they were to become estranged. “I became overwrought for a moment. I’m better now.”
The line on his forehead deepened and his darkened eyes bore into her. “You know you may tell me anything.”
Did he know something already? Looking away, she wiped her sweaty palms against the counterpane. “I know.”
He captured her chin and made her look at him again. “Do you, Vivian? Do you trust me enough?”
“Of-of course, I do.” She forced a smile to ease his worries, but her lips trembled. He placed his gently against hers. Could he taste her lie?
If he did, he gave no indication. He parted her lips and touched the tip of his tongue to hers. They shared one breath, their life forces in harmony, before their mouths came together fully. He buried his fingers into her hair and kissed her deeply.
Her will to hold on to him flickered to life. Each drink from his lips fed her desperation. Perhaps he would understand. Maybe he would come to forgive her, given time.
She surrendered to self-deception just as she did to his kiss.
Eventually, he drew back and brushed her hair behind her ear. “As much as I love kissing you, this isn’t the reason I came to see you.”
She stomach dropped. “Oh?”
“The marriage contract arrived by messenger this afternoon. I’ve arranged for Mother and my brother to witness our signatures on the morrow. Richard will be available at noon.”
“So soon?” She could barely swallow around the lump in her throat again.
Signing the contract without first informing Luke of the risks associated with marrying her made her feel dirty. It was true some women lied about their virtue. Gentlemen occasionally lied about their worth, too. And anyone could pretend to be amiable when they were more often cantankerous or claim a love for poetry when they found it a waste of time. Nevertheless, Vivi had never considered becoming one of those people.
Luke’s neutral mask fell back into place. “Are you having second thoughts?”
“No! Heavens, no!” At least not about him.
“Then we shall convene tomorrow at noon in my study.” He tapped the end of her nose with his finger. “Don’t be late, water sprite, or I will be cross.”
“But shouldn’t we wait? For just a little while? Patrice would want to know, and it would only take a few days for a letter to reach Brighthurst.”
A muscle shifted at his jaw. “Vivian, what is truly concerning you? Your cousin knew we planned to marry. You will have time to inform her before we speak our vows. Has something happened to cause you doubt?”
“No! Nothing.” Double molasses! She couldn’t cost Owen his livelihood again. “I will be there,” she murmured.
“And you must be on time.”
“You are beginning to sound more and more like a stuffy old duke.”
He graced her with his heart-stopping grin. “Become accustomed to it, love. You will have a lifetime of dealing with me.”
She hoped that was true.
***
Luke had never been one to look forward to social gatherings with enthusiasm, but he had arrived for dinner as eagerly as a boy awakening on Christmas morn. Vivian made him feel alive and grounded in a way nothing ever had.
He tried not to think on their earlier exchange. Her reluctance to sign the agreement could be nothing more than a case of nerves. Her response didn’t mean she had lost confidence in him. He had been repeating this all afternoon, but the words had little effect on the underlying sense of dread lurking in the shadows.
Her warm hand closed around his arm reassuringly. Perhaps he should whisk her away from the dull game of charades and discover a way to reassure her. With too many people to witness their exit, however, they were stuck.
Mr. Shaw was reenacting King Lear, although if Luke didn’t know his mother always included the work in any game of charades she organized, he would have been as lost as everyone else.
“Don’t just stand there with your eyes closed,” Lord Flockton huffed, his full cheeks a shiny red. “Act it out, man.”
“I am.” Mr. Shaw squeezed his eyes tighter. “Can’t you see I’m blind?”
“No talking,” Lady Connick called out then swung her head side to side until she located Luke’s mother. “He cannot talk, can he, Your Grace? He should be disqualified.”
Mr. Shaw’s eyes popped open. “Disqualified! But I was defending my honor. Lord Flockton said I was doing nothing when clearly I was acting out blindness.”
His mother smiled graciously, a lively sparkle in her eyes. “Lady Connick is correct, I’m afraid. There is no talking in charades, but I shall allow it this once. Perhaps you should provide another clue, Mr. Shaw.”
He nodded then pursed his lips as if deep in thought before slapping his hands over his eyes.
“Let me guess,” Luke’s brother Drew said with an amused drawl. “You’re blind.”
“Yes.” Mr. Shaw flashed a broad smile. “And I wear a crown.”
“He’s talking again,” Lady Connick complained.
Luke chuckled as he checked his watch. Mr. Shaw had been torturing his mother’s guests for a good seven minutes. Any longer and there might be a riot. He snapped his watch closed and slipped it back into his waistcoat pocket. “Is it King Lear?”
“Bravo, Your Grace.” Mr. Shaw tossed his hands in the air in a gesture that communicated his frustration with everyone else’s lack of intelligence. “At least someone knows his literature.”
Mr. Shaw looked down his nose at Lord Flockton before making his way back to his seat. Lord Flockton grumbled something Luke couldn’t make out over the loud clapping of the other guests. Their good humor was restored with Mr. Shaw offstage.
Luke’s mother looked to him. “It is your turn now.”
He glanced down at Vivian. Her face was turned up toward him in expectation, the color high in her cheeks from laughter and her lips plump, inviting. His body began to stir as he imagined the possibilities of what he could do with her if they were alone. He cleared his throat. “Perhaps Lady Vivian will stand in for me.”
She drew back. “Me?”
“What a marvelous choice,” his mother said and motioned to Vivian. “Come, my lady.”
“Unless you’re afraid you can’t compete with Mr. Shaw’s performance,” Luke said under his breath.
Vivian raised an eyebrow at him before walking forward as regal as a queen. His intended was apparently powerless to back down from any challenge. This quality would serve her well in the days to come. His mother’s shoes wouldn’t be any easier to fill than his father’s were, but Vivian would give her best efforts.
She leaned down so Mother could whisper in her ear then she glanced up with an enigmatic smile. She took position and when Mother gave the mark, Vivian launched into a lively rendition of a brawl.
Some of the ladies gasped and looked to his mother to gauge her reaction. Mother shifted to the edge of her seat, a broad grin in place. Their looks of horror gave way to tentative smiles, and murmurs traveled around the room.
“She is exceptionally good,” Lady Eldridge said to her sister who was sitting at her elbow.
Her sister nodded vigorously. “The best all evening.”
“Is it Beowulf?” a gentleman called out from behind Luke.
Mother shook her head. “Guess again.”
After the fight and pretending to have been run through with a sword, Vivian lowered to one knee and folded her hands over her heart as if beseeching someone.
Lady Connick twittered. “Why, it’s a story of love.”
Vivian pointed at her encouragingly. Luke again knew the answer, but he was too enchanted by her performance to end her turn.
Hopping up, she spun around to play the role of the second person. Her face took on the soft glow of a love-struck lady as she batted her eyes and pretended to lean over a railing, extending her fingers toward her admirer below. Her gaze, however, strayed toward him. They locked eyes; his heart sped up.
Whispers flittered around the circle, and curious glances were cast his direction. His entire life Luke had been trained to hide his emotions behind a placid mask. Not tonight.
A slow grin eased across his face.
Vivian extended her hand in invitation. “Perhaps His Grace would assist me?”
Going to her side would declare his intentions as clearly as a formal announcement. There would be no more speculation about their intentions or need to hide his regard. The ton forgave much when a love match was made.
“Romeo and Juliet,” a high-pitched voice blurted out as he took a step forward.
Luke halted and searched the blur of faces around him, his sight landing on Johanna. Mr. Collier was by her side studying him shrewdly.
“I believe the answer is Romeo and Juliet,” she repeated. “Well done, Lady Vivian.”
His mother stood. “Yes, well done.”
She applauded and her guests joined in. The spell between Vivian and him was broken, and he donned his mask again.
Mr. Collier whispered something in Johanna’s ear and she blushed.
Luke gritted his teeth. The gentleman was becoming a nuisance in his household.
He made his way toward his mother’s companion while fixing Collier with a feral glare that should have the coward turning tail. Just as Luke expected, the gentleman made a hasty departure before he reached them.
He offered Johanna his arm. “Take a turn about the room with me.”
“As you wish, Your Grace.”
Satisfied Mother was occupying Vivian and she was safe, he led Johanna around the perimeter of the room. “Was Mr. Collier bothering you? I shall order his departure on the morrow if he is making a pest of himself.”
“He’s harmless.” Her fingers twitched on his arm. She was lying, but he couldn’t accuse her outright. Perhaps she was already caught up in Collier’s web of seduction. Luke couldn’t allow her to be destroyed by the man. She was as much Luke’s responsibility as his mother and sisters.
They stopped a fair distance away from the other guests so he could speak in confidence. “The man is far from harmless when given opportunity. I don’t wish you to speak with him again. Do I make myself clear?”
She blinked up at him, her eyes widening. “I—I believe I understand.”
“See that you follow my wishes on the matter. I shan’t have this conversation again, Miss Truax.”
Her cheeks flushed and she smiled. “I wouldn’t dream of displeasing you. Forgive me, Your Grace.”
He grunted in satisfaction. The matter was settled then. Now he could turn his attention to more pleasing topics. He spotted Vivian across the room chatting with Lady Eldridge and, from the looks of it, charming the prestigious matron.
“She is marvelous, is she not?” he said.
Johanna followed his line of sight and frowned. “If I may be frank, the lady plays you for a fool.”
“What the devil do you mean? Plays me how?”
She inclined her head to indicate they should move to the terrace. He signaled his consent and allowed her to proceed ahead of him by several seconds. No one appeared to be watching as he too slipped outside. He found Johanna at the far end of the terrace, hidden in darkness.
“I didn’t want to tell you in this manner,” she said.
“Tell me what?” Her stalling only served to claw at his insides, and he hated it.
“You asked if Mr. Collier was making a pest of himself. He was not. He made a discovery today, and he wasn’t sure if he should tell you.”
“Why come to you?”
She reached out to caress his arm. “We’ve enjoyed a close friendship, have we not?”
Luke pulled back from her touch. She likely meant it as a comforting gesture, as she had done on occasion in the months after his father’s death, but there was something different about her hand on his arm tonight.
“You were a compassionate friend when I needed one,” he agreed. “And I will always be grateful to you. But—”
“That’s the reason I cannot allow you to become a cuckold.”
“A cuckold?” His temper flared. “You’ve insulted my intended and me. This conversation is over.”
“Please, allow me to explain. When I came down to the foyer to meet Lady Vivian so we might walk to the stables together, I found she had already gone.”
He halted halfway to the door and spun back toward Johanna. “Alone?”
“She hadn’t even taken an escort.”
Luke’s fingers curled into fists. What had Vivian been thinking to leave the house without protection? Especially after he had warned her.
“I can only assume from Mr. Collier’s report she stole away to meet with a former…um…lover,” she finished on a whisper. “Mr. Collier suspected something untoward when he spotted the groom inside a stall where Lady Vivian had been standing when we entered the stables. It was clear he was not a castle servant when he didn’t know anything about the horses housed at Irvine stables. After some pressure from Mr. Collier, the man revealed he was a former groom under Lady Brighthurst’s employ. It seems he was asked to leave, and when Mr. Collier inquired into the reason, the man began to behave oddly. Mr. Collier asked what Lady Vivian had to do with him leaving and the man nearly ran him over escaping from the stall.”
Luke clenched his jaw to keep from yelling at her for repeating such nonsense. “That is speculation on Mr. Collier’s part, and I should call him out for spreading vile rumors about Lady Vivian.”
Johanna’s hands landed on her hips. “You cannot be that foolish, Luke. There is something suspicious about her. Why was she never given a Season? Why was she found alone today with a former Brighthurst servant? At least demand answers from her.”
“Say nothing of this to anyone else.”
“You must know I would protect your honor at any cost.”
His honor? “Lady Vivian hasn’t dishonored me.”
“But how can you—?”
“She has done nothing wrong,” he said on a growl. “And I won’t have rumors spread about the future duchess, particularly by those who wish to stay under my roof.”
Johanna emitted a small squeak and turned from him.
Instantly, he regretted striking out at her. She was acting as a true friend by bringing this to him, and he repaid her with surliness and threats.
He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Forgive me. I am grateful for your concern, but I know Lady Vivian. She is innocent of any wrongdoing.”
Did he know it with certainty? He had accepted Vivian’s halting kisses as proof of her inexperience, but perhaps he had simply taken her by surprise when he’d kissed her at the coaching inn. In further encounters, she had behaved boldly for a virgin.
Yet she was bold in everything she did. She ran three-legged races, challenged him to swimming competitions, and jumped horses over fences. He couldn’t use the quality he most admired as a basis to judge her purity. Did it even matter?
He gritted his teeth, hating the thought of her lying with another man, but even if it were true, Vivian was still the woman he had fallen in love with at Twinspur Cottage.
“We should return before it’s discovered we are missing. Please allow me to see you safely inside.”
Johanna complied with his request, but stopped outside the door and clutched his arm. “I only want the best for you. Have I ever done anything to make you doubt my regard?”
He pressed his lips tightly together. In truth, she had been a loyal and compassionate friend these past months. He had no reason to doubt her intentions, but Johanna didn’t know Vivian like he did.
She also hadn’t known how lost he had been since his father’s death, a rudderless ship traveling away from his destiny. His future had never lain beyond the horizon. It was here in England as protector and provider for the people he loved most. Vivian had shown him the truth of his heart’s longings. He wanted a family and roots. Not to tie him down, but to nurture his growth, to make him stronger.
“You have always been a steadfast friend,” he said. “I would never question your sincerity.”
“Thank you.” Her grip relaxed. “I’d never wish to see you come to harm. I would sooner die.”
He smiled and patted her hand, trying to break free of her hold without hurting her feelings. “I wouldn’t ask you to put yourself in peril on my account, but I’m grateful for your devotion. There are other ways you could serve me, however.”
“H-how? You need only ask and I’ll grant your wish.”
Her intensity caused uneasiness to churn in his gut. Gently, he removed her hand from his forearm. “I would ask you to befriend Lady Vivian as you have me. She will need a loyal companion by her side if Collier spreads his lies to anyone else.”
Her head lowered and she said nothing for a long time while she plucked at her glove. Each movement propelled him toward an awkward awareness of something he didn’t want to acknowledge.
“I have promised to do anything for you,” she said, not looking up, “and you make a request on Lady Vivian’s behalf.”
His gaze narrowed in on her slumped posture and her fingers picking at her glove again. Damnation. Did Johanna fancy herself in love with him?
She was beyond the age when most ladies married, but she seemed to hold fast to the romantic notions of youth. Luke blamed the gothic novels she favored. And he cursed his great-uncle again for leaving her without a dowry. She likely would have enjoyed becoming a wife and mother.
But not his wife. He had never thought of her in that light. She was family, like a sister and never anything more. He had been sure her regard was similar.
He suppressed a sigh, uncertain how to proceed while allowing her to maintain her dignity. He chose the coward’s path and pretended to notice nothing out of the ordinary.
“Lady Vivian is my intended,” he said softly. “I am compelled to see to her happiness. This is the reason I make a request on her behalf.”
Johanna glanced up, her head tilted at an angle while she studied him. “You are promised to each other, and you are a man of your word.”
“I am.”
She nodded slowly as if allowing the truth to sink in. “I believe I understand now, Your Grace. And I will do whatever I can to assist you.”
Tension drained from his shoulders and he offered her an easy smile. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her by spurning her. It was a relief to be spared the difficult task. “You have a generous heart, cousin, and you will be rewarded for your service.”
She curtsied then opened the glass door to slip inside.
He waited several minutes before he went inside, too. He needed to speak with Vivian at once. They were no longer at Brighthurst House where she could wander away without an escort. He didn’t relish the thought of taking her to task, but she must understand she couldn’t run about at will.
His heart softened the moment he spied her among a group of ladies eagerly vying for her attention. Vivian listened with a bright spark in her eyes, and she laughed like only she could, by fully giving over to the act. The ladies responded with beaming smiles of their own.
His resolve faltered. She appeared so happy, and she clearly had been accepted into the fold. She deserved a night to celebrate her victory. Tomorrow would be soon enough for him to gently scold her.
Collier was standing a short distance from Vivian and her newfound friends, watching him with keen eyes. He smirked, and a fresh wave of anger swept over Luke. Warning the man against spreading lies about his intended needn’t wait another minute.
Luke stalked toward him. “Join me in my study, Mr. Collier. We have matters to discuss.”
Collier shrugged. “I can’t imagine what, but as you wish, Your Grace.”
The other man kept Luke at a distance as they wound through the stone corridor then up the curved staircase. Silence reigned over the deserted areas of the castle except for the sharp echo of their footsteps.
A fire burned in the hearth inside his study, and he used the flame to light the candles of a candelabra before carrying it to a side table. Collier hung back at the door.
“Come inside.”
“Perhaps you should tell me what this is about first.”
Luke made his way to the sideboard and poured two glasses of brandy. “Let’s be civilized about this, shall we? Share a drink with me while we discuss our business.”
He rounded the settee, took a seat, and held one of the glasses out for Collier. The man rolled his shoulders then sauntered across the room to accept. He took a swig of his drink then lowered into a chair.
“Miss Truax informs me you are spreading lies about Lady Vivian, and I want it to stop.”
“I confided in Miss Truax only. That hardly warrants an accusation of spreading lies.” Collier studied Luke over the rim of his glass as he downed his brandy. “I didn’t say anything that was untrue.”
Luke’s fingers tightened around his glass. “You insinuated something untoward happened between my betrothed and a former employee. I won’t allow an insult such as that to go unanswered.”
Collier laughed. “Would you call me out? Little good that would do after everyone has heard your wife-to-be is a trollop. There will still be whispers.”
Luke slammed his glass against the side table. “If you so much as utter her name to anyone, I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Beat me bloody and humiliate me in front of my friends?” Collier jumped to his feet and flung his arms wide. “Will you make me a laughingstock again and a whipping boy for every hot-tempered jackass with a gift for violence?”
That day came back to Luke in rapid flashes. It was after his return to Oxford. Often in those first weeks back a blinding anger had possessed him. It was unreasonable and demanded vengeance on anyone unfortunate enough to step into its path. Luke’s blood had boiled and seared his veins as it pulsed through his body, triggered by anything. Or nothing. He most regretted those days when he had lacked command over himself, but he couldn’t change the past.
“I offer you my deepest apology, Collier. Something came over me that day and I was as powerless to stop it as you.”
Collier’s eyes flamed black with hatred. “Do you think an apology will appease me? I want you to pay for what you did.”
“Then make me pay. Not her. If you want to humiliate anyone, it should be me and only me. Vivian is innocent.”
Collier bore his teeth. “I will hit you where it most hurts. You will receive no mercy from me, just as you showed me none.”
Luke rose from the settee and towered over the other man. “Tomorrow at first light, I want you gone. If you dare to speak of Lady Vivian to anyone, I will beat you bloody. And I won’t have any regrets this time.”
He brushed past Collier but turned back at the doorway. “See yourself out.”