Page 69 of Just a Little Daring

Vivien leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I shan’t let that happen, you know. I shall take your sisters in hand. I approve of their ambitions, and of their commitment, but I believe they might find less scandalous ways of achieving their ends if they think more carefully. As Mama is fond of saying, a little daring is an admirable thing, but there are limits. After all, they won’t be taken so seriously if they make themselves into pariahs.”

“I’ve been trying to tell them that for years, but do they listen?”

“You’re a man, my love. You simply cannot understand the frustration and fury a lively and intelligent woman like your Anna must keep hidden simply to get through a day acting as a well-behaved young lady ought. But don’t you worry. We shall think of a way to channel her energies more productively. She’s very excited about Eliza’s school, for a start.”

August stared down at her, a smile at his lips that Vivien could only describe as besotted. Which was handy, really, as she was thoroughly besotted herself.

“We don’t have to worry about them for at least two months,” August said softly, tugging at the ribbons of her bonnet.

“No. We don’t,” Vivien replied, allowing her new husband to toss her frightfully expensive new hat aside without a murmur of protest. “Mr Lane-Fox, are you planning to disarrange my coiffure?”

“At the very least,” he said gravely.

“Well, it’s about time,” Vivien replied with a sigh, and allowed him to get on with it.

Chapter 21

Monsieur,

I was sorry not to get the chance to speak with you at the Lane-Fox wedding. Papa was breathing down my neck, though, so I thought I had best be a little circumspect. I had hoped your heroics might change his mind about you, but I have just endured a lecture about wicked men and their wiles, which I believe was supposed to put me on my guard in your company. Can you believe it? The trouble is, Papa was a wicked man before he married and knows how enticing they can be. The poor dear is terrified I will get myself in a fix. I have tried to reassure him, but he does not trust you or your motives and will not be reassured. Mama is more reasonable, at least, though even she warns me to have a care for my reputation.

It is becoming increasingly difficult to get letters to you, but I have enlisted one of the footmen. He has been with us since he was a boy and I trust him to retrieve your letters and to send mine. He is well compensated for the risk he takes, naturally, but I wish I did not have to rely on such underhand measures.

Oh, you’ll never guess. I had my first proposal of marriage yesterday! Mr Cooper, of whom I spoke to you, asked to speak to Papa. It surprised me that Papa agreed to it, except I believe he knew I would turn the fellow down and thought I ought to speak to him myself. Honestly, it was mortifying. The poor man blushed and stammered so. I don’t know which of us was the most embarrassed. I almost accepted him just to make it stop.

I think I let him down gently. I hope he doesn’t hate me now, but I only told him the truth, though I fear that I might have left him room to hope, which may not have been a kindness. I am far from ready to think of marrying anyone, though. I want to have some fun before I tie myself to a husband and a household. Goodness, how flighty I sound, but you know that is not what I mean. I just don’t want things to change. Not yet.

―Excerpt of a letter from Miss Evie Knight (daughter of Lady Helena and Mr Gabriel Knight) to Louis César de Montluc, Comte de Villen.

27th April 1841, Rother House, Burwash, Etchingham, East Sussex.

It was early evening by the time they reached Rother House, and the last vibrant streaks of a lavish sunset fading from the sky as the carriage rolled up the drive. The mullioned windows reflected the fiery colour, making the house appear all ablaze.

August helped Viv step down, and she sighed with relief, stretching her spine after too long in the confines of the carriage. Her hair was in disarray, as August had promised, and she had been thoroughly kissed. Her new husband had refused anything more than this on the grounds he was going to enjoy his nuptials in a proper bed and not in a jolting carriage. Vivien had been as much frustrated as relieved by this, but wished she did not feel so worn out after their long day.

August slipped an arm about her waist as she stared up at Rother House.

“Happy, love?”

“Mmmm,” she said with a sigh, leaning into him.

He chuckled and kissed her cheek. “Poor thing. You’re worn to a thread. I don’t suppose you slept a wink last night.”

Viv shook her head. “I was far too excited to sleep, and then I was up early as there was so much to do to get ready.”

August guided her into the house, where their new housekeeper hurried to greet them. Mrs Meacham looked pleased as punch to see them arrive. She was a spare, short woman who vibrated nervous energy and Viv had hired her on the spot when she had interviewed for the position. The rest of the staff would stay on for now, and could show their worth before Vivien made any further decisions, but it had pleased the old housekeeper to retire rather than get used to a determined new mistress who would undoubtedly set the place on its ears.

“Good evening Mr and Mrs Lane-Fox,” Mrs Meacham said, dipping a curtsey. “Your baths are ready as you requested, and the staff will bring a light supper up the moment you ring for it. Don’t hesitate to let me know if there’s anything else you require.”

“That sounds perfect, Mrs Meacham, thank you,” Vivien said, noticing dusted portraits and a sparkling entrance hall. “And I see you have taken the place in hand.”

“We’ve made a start,” the woman said, her expression suggesting she had only fired her opening shot and a battle royale was yet to begin.

“Excellent. If you’ll excuse us, my wife is weary after our long day,” August said, putting an end to any further domestic discussions and towing Vivien up the stairs.

“Oh, of course, sir,” Mrs Meacham replied with a knowing smile that made Vivien blush and hurry to keep up with her husband.

The master bedroom was a splendid, well-proportioned room. In daylight, it looked out upon the lovely gardens and the gently rolling hills of the Sussex Weald though it was cosy now with the heavy curtains closed and the lamps lit. The bed was a hefty looking four poster of an age with the building, but the hangings and bedcovers were quite new and a lovely shade of forest green with a pattern in gold thread. They had clearly been chosen by August’s mama.