thirty-one
Vivienne expected a huge wave of relief and happiness after escaping her house, but instead, fatigue was the only thing she felt the next morning, despite a good night’s sleep.
She was happy to be with Samuel, but for now, she didn’t have the energy to show it.
After a maid helped her get washed and dressed, she had breakfast in her bedroom in front of the orange glow of the fireplace.
Everything she ate, from the tea to the scones, tasted like the concoction Captain Jackson had given her last night.
“My lady.” Mrs. Foster entered the bedroom, carrying a fresh glass of Captain Jackson’s drink.
Speaking of the devil.
“Wonderful.”
Half of the housekeeper’s face was normal, but the other half looked as if a brutal force had pushed the facial features up, distorting them. Her left eye was pulled up. The left corner of her mouth was twisted up as well, and in general, her left side was deformed. Her brown eyes were uncommonly kind.
Mrs. Foster curtsied. “Is there anything else you need?”
“Nothing, really.”
“I’m sorry we had to wake you up at dawn. You need to get ready for the ceremony.” Mrs. Foster folded the clothes and unpacked the carpet bag efficiently and quietly.
“I’m looking forward to it.” Vivienne watched the housekeeper work around the room.
“Are you happy here?” she asked, vaguely aware she was crossing a line with a woman she barely knew.
Mrs. Foster smiled. “Very much. Before meeting Mr. Lyon, I worked as a maid for a wealthy family. My employer didn’t want me to become his housekeeper, despite my years of service, because my face wasn’t to his liking. So I joined a roadshow. It was honest work, but not the most rewarding, either in coins or in happiness. I played the role of the deranged monstrous woman and used a frying pan to fend off my attackers. People would always laugh. The show was silly, but I learnt a thing or two about fighting. When Mr. Lyon offered me a job, I didn’t hesitate to accept it.”
“Samuel is a good man.”
“He is. I’m happy for you,” Mrs. Foster said in a motherly way.
When Mrs. Foster left, Vivienne couldn’t deny a hint of nervousness at the thought of her wedding. There were plenty of reasons to be nervous. It was her wedding, after all.
She wouldn’t be surprised if Mother didn’t show up, and maybe even Father might decide not to come after her last stunt. Her brothers and sisters wouldn’t be present as well. She hadn’t given them enough notice.
And there were things she wanted to discuss with Samuel. Things they hadn’t mentioned, like what he expected from her. Selfishly, when she’d agreed to be his wife, her only thought had been to leave her house. He deserved better from her.
She resigned herself to drink the potion.
Loud voices coming from downstairs distracted her from her breakfast.
“...what was I supposed to do?” That was Captain Jackson.
Someone else answered but not loudly enough for her to understand who the speaker was.
Footsteps pounded closer. She tensed as her door was flung open.
“Vivienne.” Father swept into view and crossed the room with quick strides.
“Father.” She hugged him.
He searched her face. “I read your letter this morning and came immediately.”
That explained the loud voices. Father must have met Captain Jackson.
“How are you?”
