Rupert’s other hand was securely on the small of Vivian’s back. “Thank you for asking me. My lady, please allow me to introduce you to our host, Lord Thornhill. My lord, Lady Beresford.”
The older man, still trim, with salt-and-pepper hair, bowed. “A pleasure. This”—he chuckled—“as you might guess, is my beautiful wife, Lady Thornhill.”
Her ladyship held out her hand, and Vivian shook it. “My pleasure to see you again. Lady Evesham told me about your drawing rooms, and I’ve looked forward to them.”
A smile creased the corners of Lady Thornhill’s eyes. There appeared to be little artifice about the woman or her husband. The couple were clearly masters of their universe, a state of being Vivian admired and envied, particularly in her current circumstances. “You will see the Eveshams in a little while, I’m sure. In the meantime, feel free to introduce yourself to anyone you don’t know, or join any conversation.”
“Before we join your other guests,” Rupert said, “please tell me where your garb comes from.”
“Japan,” Lord Thornhill answered. “We were inspired by the bright colors and ease of movememt.”
As they strolled toward the voices drifting down the corridor, Vivian almost froze. Just walk up to someone and start talking? Introduce herself? How on earth was she to get along here?
Rupert must have sensed her unease for he whispered, “You won’t flounder. You are as intelligent, if not more so, than anyone present. Besides, I’ll be here for you.”
“Thank you.” She breathed in and out again. “I’ll be fine.”
“You shall.” His ever ready grin was present. “I have faith in you even if you don’t have it for yourself. Come, let’s see if I recognize anyone.”
They were shortly involved in a conversation about whether the government should send the Elgin Marbles back to Greece. A short while later they left that debate only to be embroiled in a conversation on how best to bring about universal suffrage. The lady espousing the viewpoint was firm in her opinions that women as well as all men should have the right to vote. Vivian had read about the idea, but the thought that ladies were actively promoting it was something she had never considered.
“Universal suffrage will not happen in our lifetime,” Rupert said. “But I have hopes for my children or grandchildren.”
“If we continue on the path to social reform that we have begun, I think it may occur more quickly,” the lady responded.
“Ah, but you are forgetting,” a gentleman chimed in, “the fear instilled in the more conservative segments of our government by the French Revolution and the uprisings in the countryside.”
A small hand touched her elbow. “I agree it should be sooner rather than later,” Anna Rutherford, opined. She gathered Rupert and Vivian with her glance. “Phoebe and Marcus are here as well. This is a good place to have a comfortable coze.” She linked arms with Vivian. “Are you enjoying yourself, or is it a bit overwhelming?”
“It is certainly not what I am used to.” Vivian struggled to describe what she was feeling. “I find it exhilarating.”
“I think that is the reason I enjoy these drawing rooms as well. One is introduced to different ways of thinking.”
Phoebe and Anna, who had claimed the long window seat overlooking a side garden, moved over to make a place for Vivian. She had never felt so included in a circle before. These women had become friends so quickly. They had instantly accepted her for who she was, not who they wanted her to be.
Their husbands were friendly as well, but she knew they were concerned about her intentions toward Rupert. She stifled a laugh. If only they knew about Cleo, they would not be apprehensive.
Footmen walked through the room with drinks and small tidbits of food. Rupert snatched a glass of what Vivian had thought was tea in a small cup. She took a sip and almost sputtered it out. “What is this?”
“Sake,” Marcus answered. “Wine made from rice.” He held up a small roll that had been fried. “This is a spring roll. Keep your mind open, and you’ll find a number of new dishes.”
“How do you know about them?”
“All sorts of races live and pass through the West Indies,” he said. “I enjoy new experiences and different foods.”
“Give me an English meat pie anytime,” Lord Rutherford said.
Anna cuffed him on his shoulder. “Don’t be stodgy.”
His eyes warmed. “You love coffyns.”
“I do.” She raised her chin and took a bite of one of the spring rolls. “I also like these.”
Phoebe laughed. “She doesn’t allow him to get away with anything.”
Marcus laid his hand possessively on her shoulder. “And you do?”
“Never.” Phoebe’s eyes softened as she gazed upon her husband. “It is a woman’s job to keep her husband moving forward.”
