Even now and at this distance, Vivian cringed at the prospect of writing to inform her father she would not agree to the marriage. A better idea would be to leave Town as she had intended. In fact, this might be the perfect time to travel to the Continent. Surely he wouldn’t follow her over there. If he could even find her. She would disguise herself. Lord knew she now had plenty of experience.
Vivian drew in a shaky breath. Father and her prospective husband were not due to arrive for another week. That would give her time to think and coordinate her travel. Clara could pretend Vivian had not received the letter. On the other hand . . .
The door opened and Clara glided in. “Your maid said you were in a taking. What has happened?”
Vivian waved her to the chair opposite hers. “I received a note from Father telling me he has arranged a match. All that is needed is my signature on the settlement documents. He and the other gentleman shall arrive in London next week. He plans to open Brackford House and expects me to remove there until my wedding.”
“Isthatall?” Clara’s tone was light, but her chin firmed, ready to do battle. She rose, went to the sideboard, poured two glasses of wine, handed one to Vivian, and resumed her seat. “If I were not a lady, there are a great many appropriate oaths I can think of to utter at the moment.”
“I believe I already did.” Vivian grimaced. “I do not understand how he thought I would simply go along with his scheme. That was the reason I chose not to go home to my parents after my husband died.”
“Who knows how gentlemen think.” Clara cast her eyes to the ceiling. “It is a mystery to me and always has been. Although, it is most likely your history of doing as you are told that got him this far. Not that it is at all your fault. Any reasonable man would have at least approached you with the idea before making all the arrangements.”
“Well, I shall not agree to his proposal.” Vivian twirled her glass of wine, took one sip, then another. She must keep her wits about her, and she couldn’t do that if she tried to drown her problem. Not only that, she had a drawing room to attend with Rupert in a few hours. “I shall put forward my plan to visit properties.”
“When asked, I would, of course, say it was not my business to inquire of you exactly where you had gone.” Her cousin sipped her wine. “But unless you intend to hide forever, he will keep pushing you to do as he wishes.”
“You’re right.” Vivian dropped her head into her hands, wishing there was another way. She dreaded the contretemps her decision would cause. “I shall have to confront him. I’ll inform him that I will not re-marry.”
Clara studied Vivian for a few moments. “Wait a few days. It might not hurt for you to write him as you’re leaving Town.”
“That is exactly what I will do.” She gave her cousin what was probably a wan smile. “Thank you.”
“We shall muddle through.” Clara grinned like a sly cat. “Some resolution is bound to reveal itself. It always does.”
“I shall trust you to be right.” As they rose, Vivian hugged Clara tightly. “I’m glad you have had more luck than I.”
“It’s time your life took a turn for the better.” And on that bracing thought, Clara strode out of the room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Three hours later, Vivian descended the stairs dressed in a Mexican-blue Gros de Naples silk walking gown. Rupert was already waiting for her. When he smiled, a look came into his eyes very much like the one he used with Cleo. Could it be he was attracted to both of them, or was he a rake in sheep’s clothing?
When Vivian glanced at him again, the look had disappeared. It must have been her imagination, and her wish that a gentleman could want her that way.
She placed her hand on the arm he held out. “Good afternoon, my lord.”
Rupert inclined his head. “Good day, my lady. Shall we go?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” She gave him a warm smile. “Thank you for this treat.”
“One of many I have planned for you,” he responded in a soft tone that sent pleasurable shivers down her spine.
She was going mad if she thought he actually meant anything by it. Hadn’t her husband courted her on their honeymoon and the minute they returned to Beresford gone back to his mistress? Well, this time she knew the game. Rupert would be with Cleo at night, and escort Vivian during the day. Perhaps he had decided it was not time to marry. What better way to avoid marriage-minded misses than by escorting a widow about Town?
If only she could cease her growing feelings for him. Still, the few times her husband had been in bed with her, he had never been kind, and Rupert was much more than that. He was loving and everything any woman could want from a man. Every time she tried to make sense of it, her head swam. She would certainly go mad if she kept this up.
“Oh, this isn’t your phaeton.” Vivian gazed at the light blue landau trimmed in gold with Rupert’s crest on the door. The darker blue convertible top had been put down. “It’s beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it.” He waited as a footman opened the door, then assisted her up the steps. “The phaeton would have been impractical. This will be taken home and will return in a few hours to collect us.” He settled himself next to her on the seat. “Although, I’ll wager you will be having so much fun you won’t want to leave.”
Her heart lightened. He was fun to be with and she always had a wonderful time with him. The only thing to do was stop worrying and overthinking what was happening between them. In less than a week, they would go their own ways. She would be a pleasant memory for him, and she would find a way to recover from her broken heart. For now, she was determined to enjoy his company. “As long as the conversation is not about young ladies finding matches, I am positive I will have a perfectly lovely time.”
Rupert barked a laugh. “I see you’ve been attending too many morning visits and teas.” He took her fingers in his hand and held them. “To-day you will be subjected to discussions on art, poetry, and radical political thinking.” He glanced down at her and his eyes danced with mirth. “And those are merely her usual guests. Only God knows who her ladyship has invited now that they are back from the Orient.”
A few minutes later they rolled to a stop in front of a perfectly normal-looking town house. However, once inside, Lord and Lady Thornhill’s love of travel could be seen everywhere. The couple greeted them dressed in long, brightly colored and embroidered robes over petticoats.
“Stanstead.” Lord Thornhill shook Rupert’s hand. “I’m glad you could come.”
