“I don’t suppose you’d . . . no, never mind.” Punt shrugged. “If that’s what you want, I can’t have you trusting yourself to strangers, and someone’s got to look out for you.”
Vivian let out the breath she’d been holding. This was really going to happen. “My indigo carriage gown, I think.”
“I’ll get one of your bonnets with a veil as well. No point advertising.”
She turned in her chair. “Thank you.”
“Don’t know if I agree with you, but there it is.” With that cryptic response, Punt disappeared into the dressing room. “Finish eating.”
Less than an hour later, Vivian entered the office of Jones and Son Land Agents.
Young Mr. Jones jumped to his feet. “My lady, I would have attended you.”
“I was in the area,” she lied. “Circumstances have changed a bit. I still require an estate, but I also need a town house for the rest of the Season.” She handed him the listing. “That one will suit nicely, if it is not already taken.”
His face flushed red. “Are you sure, my lady? I mean it’s—it’s . . .”
“Furnished?” Vivian smiled. “That is precisely what I need.”
“Perhaps my father should speak to you,” he squeaked.
“Nonsense. I understand Hill Street is a perfectly respectable neighborhood.”
“It is.” He gave dissuading her another attempt. “But the house is not decorated for a”—he ran his finger under his cravat—“as it should be for a lady.”
“If that is all that’s worrying you”—she smiled again—“I am sure it will be fine until I can have it refurbished. I would like to view it now.”
Mr. Jones swallowed. “Yes, my lady, but I can’t leave now.”
“Very well, I’m capable of entering the house by myself.”
“But—but—”
Vivian wiggled her fingers for him to produce the keys. “You cannot possibly think I would damage anything?”
“No, my lady.” He rose, dragging his feet to a cabinet, and took out a set of keys. “Here you are.”
“Wonderful. Now if you will prepare the lease and have it sent to me at Mount Street, I’ll sign it today and arrange for the funds to be transferred.”
That apparently cheered him for he finally lost his panicked look. “Thank you, my lady.”
Punt shook her head as she and Vivian left the office. “First time I’ve ever seen you bowl someone over.”
“I have a feeling there will soon be a great many firsts in my life.” At least she hoped so. Until now, her presence on this earth had been a disaster.
Another hackney took her to the house situated toward the corner of Hill Street and Waverton Street. Not too far from her cousin’s house, which was helpful as Vivian must return every night if no one was to discover what she was about. “It doesn’t look as if a mistress lived here.”
Punt choked. “Is that why Mr. Jones was trying to talk you out of the house?”
“Yes.” Vivian gave her maid a wicked grin. “I wonder what the inside looks like.”
“Open the door and we’ll find out.” Punt waited as Vivian took the key from her reticule.
“If I didn’t know better”—Vivian cut her maid a funning look—“I’d think you were happy for me.”
“The only thing I ever wanted for you, my lady, was your happiness,” Punt replied, as stoic as ever. “You’ve had very little of that. If I was worried you’d turn into a trollop, things would be different.”
With Lord Stanstead, Vivian could almost imagine giving herself over to him. Yet that was too dangerous. She had done that once, and she would not repeat the mistake. “Thank you for your support. I shall be circumspect.”
