Lady Vivian Defies a Duke (21 page)

A corner of his mouth kicked up, providing a glimpse of the young man she had once known and admired. No doubt he was recalling several foolish things she had attempted in her younger years.

“Hold your tongue, Owen Randal.” She dropped her hand to her side. “So we are clear, life hasn’t been easy on me either.”

His brow arched slightly, but he said nothing.

“I speak the truth. Once Mrs. Honeywell told everyone in the village about what she had seen, I became an outcast. I no longer received invitations, and my dearest friends were forbidden from associating with me.”

She blinked away the tears blurring her vision. Why cry now? The moment had passed. Yet a vague worry gnawed at her. The past had a way of reappearing, and Owen was proof.

“I never meant to cause trouble for either of us,” she said. “Nevertheless, I did and I’m deeply sorry.”

His expression softened and he pulled a dingy handkerchief from his pocket then held it out to her.

She waved it away. “I am all right now. It has passed.”

He tucked it back in his pocket. “I shouldn’t have allowed you to stay in the stables when you should have been abed. I’m as much at fault, if not more.”

“I only blame myself.” Her reunion with Owen pulled her from the fantasy she had weaved together last night.

This was exactly the type of situation Miss Truax had reference when she had spoken of skeletons. What if news of her tarnished reputation came in the form of whispered speculation in the ballroom? Maybe it would come as a veiled comment over dinner. Did it really matter how Luke learned of her misstep? He had a right to know the type of woman he had pledged to marry. It wasn’t too late to rescind his offer.

“Owen, I’m to be married to the Duke of Foxhaven. I must tell him what has occurred. He may wish to speak to you to verify my claim.”

Owen’s eyes flew wide open. “No! Please, milady. If the duke questions me, Lady Stanwood will hear about it. I cannot be turned out again.”

“Lady Stanwood would never have to know.”

He backed away from her and bumped into the stall. “My fellow servants would know if I was summoned to speak with His Grace, and they would feel it was their duty to inform her.”

“I shouldn’t keep secrets from my future husband.” Especially when it had pained him last night to tell her of his difficulties.

“Please, milady. You could wait to tell him. Lady Stanwood plans to return to her country house at the end of the week. Once we have left, you could tell him whatever you like.”

Vivi’s stomach churned with uncertainty. Anything could happen in three days, and she could miss the chance to tell Luke her version of the incident. “I don’t know…”

Owen rushed forward to take her hands in his. “I beg of you to wait. There is someone—” His voice broke; his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Oh.” Warmth flowed over her and filled her heart with happiness on his behalf. “Someone waits for you at home.”

He nodded. “Her name is Mary.”

Vivi nibbled her bottom lip and pulled her hands from his grasp. She shouldn’t make him any promises. Her loyalty should be to Luke first and foremost, but she had nearly ruined Owen’s life. She couldn’t tear it apart again.

“If your lady extends her stay beyond the week, my promise no longer counts. I will speak with the duke.”

Laughter sounded outside of the stables, and Owen jumped back. He waved her out of the stall and snatched a pitchfork leaning against the wall. Turning his back, he set to work as if he was a castle groom.

Vivi walked toward the stable doors, and two figures appeared.

“Lady Vivian, there you are.” Miss Truax’s incensed tone set her teeth on edge. “I searched everywhere for you.”

“Not everywhere,” Vivi said breezily, “or you would have located me sooner.”

The gentleman at her side laughed and came forward, his features suddenly identifiable in the light. “The lady has a valid point, Miss Truax.”

Vivi made fists at her side. Whatever was the woman thinking bringing him along? “Mr. Collier, what a surprise.”

“Pleasant, I hope.” He peered beyond her shoulder. “Where were you just now? I thought I heard you speaking to someone.”

“I was.” She notched her chin up to distract from the nervous quiver in her voice. “This beautiful white mare. She is a lovely conversationalist.”

His eyes narrowed as his smile widened. “Is she now?”

“Better than some.” Her barb was directed at him, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Your horses are waiting for you behind the stables. I ran into Miss Truax returning from my morning ride and offered my escort.”

“How kind, sir.”

Miss Truax smiled at him as she reached Vivi’s side. “Exceptionally kind, Mr. Collier. I enjoyed our discourse.”

Her tone dripped with meaning, and Vivi could only conclude the conversation had bordered on salacious. She expected no better from the scoundrel.

He gave a small bow. “Please, don’t allow me to keep you from your ride.”

“We shan’t. Good day, sir.” Vivi linked arms with Miss Truax and tugged her quickly toward the opened doorway at the other end of the stables. The woman must be touched in the head. Luke had warned her against associating with Mr. Collier, and yet here she had arrived on his arm.

Vivi chanced a quick glance over her shoulder to discover Mr. Collier standing outside the stall where Owen pretended to work. He stared at the servant with a grim smile.

Her stomach pitched and she thought for a moment she might become ill.

Miss Truax frowned. “Are you unwell, Lady Vivian?”

“Perhaps.” She considered offering an excuse and escaping to her chambers, but she had a few words for her companion once they were clear of Mr. Collier’s unwelcome company.

Once they walked their horses down the well-worn trail with a groom trailing behind them on horseback, Vivi broke the silence. “You would do well to heed His Grace’s warnings about Mr. Collier.”

“Surely Foxhaven doesn’t know Mr. Collier as well as he believes. He is a charming gentleman.”

“Charm is often used to distract from one’s true purpose.”

Miss Truax tsked. “You judge the man too harshly. I assure you he only has the most honorable intentions.”

Vivi said no more. The lady was deluded. Without a dowry, Mr. Collier could want only one thing from her, but Vivi was too kind to point out anything so obvious.

Perhaps she should inform Luke of Miss Truax’s carelessness. She suppressed a sigh. That would be hypocritical of her given all the times she had been careless.

“You would be wise to proceed with caution, Miss Truax.”

“I am always deliberate in my actions. You needn’t fear on my behalf.”

For Vivian,

A rare flower for a rare beauty.

Forever yours,

L

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.