She turned to the stairs leading down to the garden, not expecting anyone else to be there. But the moment she reached the bottom step, a voice called, “Your Grace.”
She turned at once, her eyes wide.
Lady Vivian Marlowe stood a short distance away beneath a lantern, positioned as though she had been waiting rather than wandering. The light caught in her dark green gown, and she moved forward with confidence, closing the space between them.
“I did not expect company,” Anne said evenly.
“I could say the same, though I suspect we are both aware that gardens at gatherings like this are rarely private.”
Anne inclined her head slightly. “Then I will not keep you from them.”
“That is kind,” Lady Vivian replied, though she did not step aside. “Only, I wish to speak with you briefly, if you do not mind. It is so rare to have a moment away from the noise inside.”
“Of course.”
Lady Vivian tilted her head slightly, as though considering how to begin, though Anne suspected the choice had already been made long before she had approached.
“I imagine marriage to His Grace has been something of an adjustment.”
At once, Anne knew where this conversation was headed. It was her first real judgment, and she had to handle it alone.
Fortunately, she knew how to do that perfectly well, even if she preferred not to be in such a situation.
“It has been manageable,” she replied.
“That is a careful answer,” Lady Vivian said softly. “Careful answers usually come from people who are still deciding how to feel.”
“Or from people who prefer not to offer strangers unnecessary details about their private lives.”
Faint amusement flickered across Lady Vivian’s expression, though it did not reach her eyes. “Of course. I would never assume anything. I am not one to intrude on the privacy of others.”
Yet she took another step closer. It was not enough to be improper, but enough to shift the dynamic between them.
“I have known Dorian for some time,” she continued, her voice light as though they were discussing the weather. “Long before titles and expectations began to follow him more closely. He has always been… sought-after. Not intentionally, perhaps, but inevitably. Some men attract attention without effort, and they grow used to it in ways that are difficult to unlearn.”
“If you are suggesting that my husband is easily distracted?—”
“I am not suggesting anything,” Lady Vivian replied gently.
“You and I both know your intentions. I appreciate your concern, but I am perfectly happy in my marriage.”
Lady Vivian gave a small, almost sympathetic smile. “You are quite intelligent. I can see why he chose you.”
“Chose me?”
She blinked slowly, as though surprised by the reaction. “Forgive me, that was poorly phrased. One forgets how easily words can be misinterpreted.”
Anne held her gaze. “Then I suggest you choose yours more carefully.”
A pause followed, and for the first time, something in Lady Vivian’s expression shifted slightly—something less polished. Then, just as quickly, she smoothed it.
“To be honest with you, I do not think Dorian has ever been good at belonging to anyone for long,” she said more quietly. “That is not an insult to either of you, of course. It is simply how he is. He enjoys people. He enjoys the attention that his charm attracts. It is part of what makes him so difficult to resist.”
“And yet he married me.”
Lady Vivian’s smile returned, though thinner this time. “Yes. He did.”
“If that is all, I should like to return inside.”
