A Miss Emily Woolerton had accompanied them, and her talk was of nothing but her impending marriage. Unfortunately, although her betrothed was back in England, he was delayed in arriving in London. After just a few minutes of listening to the wedding plans, Vivian was praying the gentleman would soon arrive and the couple would be married.
Why Vivian had even come was beyond her understanding. She should have known what it would be like, considering the Dowager Lady Worthington had a daughter who was out as well. Nevertheless, she was a friend of Clara’s, and Vivian would have not embarrassed her cousin by refusing to attend when they had been especially invited, which meant they were there for much of the afternoon.
At least Miss Vivers. The Dowager Lady Worthington’s daughter, had conversation about other issues than the gentlemen.
The only saving grace was that the Banks ladies must depart soon. Their fifteen minutes were almost finished.
Truth be told, Vivian should not be nearly as bothered by the conversations as she was. After all, she was no longer on the Marriage Mart, and she should be glad about it. Yet with Silvia and Miss Woolerton brimming with happiness and the speculation about other potential matches this Season, Vivian’s mood sank further into a gray morass.
To make matters worse, as they had the other day, no matter how many times she looked, the arms of the clock refused to move at more than a snail’s pace. She still had hours to go before meeting with Rupert. And there was dinner to get through.
“Lady Beresford, have you decided when you will re-marry?” Lady Banks’s lips curved into a small, polite smile.
“I have decided I shall not.” There, Vivian had announced her intentions to the whole world. Or, unless she missed her guess about Lady Banks, they would shortly be apprised of her choice. “I am searching for a small estate and hope to visit some properties in the next few weeks.”
Miss Banks’s eyes widened. “That is a splendid idea. I cannot wait to have a home of my own. With a husband, of course, but you have already done that.”
The little shrew. Unable to stop herself, Vivian mimicked the girl’s wide-eyed look. “Indeed I have, and I can assure you that your husband’s house is not your own.”
“But—” Flustered, the young lady turned to her mother. “Mama, won’t you always live at Meadowfield?”
“Cressida, what a question.” Lady Banks gave her daughter an exasperated look. “Naturally I hope to die there, but if your father should pass away first, and your brother marries, I shall move to the dower house. This is the reason settlement agreements are so important. A lady should always know what will become of her if her husband dies.” She patted her daughter’s knee. “Naturally, Papa will take good care of you. Now let us speak of more pleasant topics. Lady Beresford will not wish to be reminded of her loss.”
Vivian made her best effort to appear suitably relieved at the change of subject. If she’d thought no one would see her, she would have danced on her husband’s grave. Fortunately, this time when she glanced at the clock, it had made progress.
Lady Banks and her unpleasant daughter left, only to be replaced by more guests.
“I thought morning visits took place earlier,” Vivian mumbled more to herself than anyone else.
“Normally they do, but with all the children, Lady Worthington has her at home later in the day, when they are out taking their exercise.”
Twenty minutes later, Clara finally rose. “I’ve had a delightful time, but we must rest before this evening.”
“Yes indeed.” Vivian had never been happier to leave an event.
The Dowager Lady Worthington stood. “I shall see you out.” Once in the hall she said, “Thank you for coming. Your conversation has helped keep me sane.”
“It was the least we could do for a friend.” Clara bussed the lady’s cheek. “We had a lovely time.” By the time the farewells were said, their coach had arrived. Unfortunately, not much escaped Clara. “Vivian, dear, are you quite well?”
“Of course.” She settled onto the coach bench. “Why do you ask?”
Her cousin frowned. “You snapped twice at Miss Banks. That is very unlike you.”
“But don’t forget,” Silvia interjected, saving Vivian the need to answer, “Miss Banks did bring up a painful subject for Vivian. I thought Miss Banks was amazingly rude. Did you not see her glare at Vivian as well?”
“Hmm, I didn’t notice the looks, but she did seem terribly relieved when Vivian said she was looking for an estate and intended to leave Town for a while.” Clara turned her attention to Vivian. “Have you found anyplace suitable to view?”
“Yes, a few houses.” Naturally, Clara would know Vivian had spoken to Mr. Trevor. Nothing happened in that house about which Clara was not aware. Except perhaps when Vivian and her maid had slipped back in last night. Yet if her cousin didn’t mention it, neither would she. “I’ll take Punt with me and a couple of your footmen, if you have no objection.”
“With all that on your mind, no wonder you have been looking strained.”
Thank God they had arrived in Mount Street and Vivian could escape. Though to what she didn’t know. She truly did not wish to be by herself, nor did she want to be with others. It was as if her skin didn’t fit properly anymore. If only what her head told her to do was the same as what her heart demanded she do.
When they gained the hall, she took off her bonnet. “I think I shall rest until dinner.”
Silvia’s forehead creased, but she didn’t say anything.
Clara merely waved Vivian away. “That is a wonderful idea. I believe I shall do the same. Will you be attending the rout with us?”
