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“Yorkshire, I believe. Greentree Manor. Her mother is a Lady Greentree, and she is staying in London with her aunt, Mrs. Helen Russell. I think there was some scandal there, but it escapes me.”
“Toby Russell, a horrid man, yes, I remember. He eloped with Helen, a beauty, for her family’s money, and the silly girl thought it was love. The brother, William Tremaine, was too terrified of scandal to hold out. Of course, Toby Russell soon ran through the girl’s dowry. I wonder if she thinks it was worth it? All for love, eh, Oliver?”
Oliver gave a mocking smile. “If you imagine for a moment I am contemplating Miss Vivianna Greentree as a possible bride, then you are very much mistaken, Aunt. She would drive me to Bedlam in a month. Besides, you know that matters are coming to a head. I do not need any further complications. Please don’t meddle.”
“Who said anything about meddling?” Lady Marsh made her eyes suspiciously wide and innocent.
Oliver moved to take her hand and touch it to his lips. “I mean it, Aunt. Do not think to saddle me with Miss Greentree. I will peruse your list again. Maybe there is someone on it I can stomach after all.”
Lady Marsh watched him, a little smile of satisfaction on her lips, which Oliver found very disturbing.
Vivianna leaned back
in the coach and took several deep breaths. She could hardly believe she had been so successful. It was, she was sure, thanks to Aphrodite. She had called upon the other woman at eleven, as requested, only to find Aphrodite still unwell and unable to meet with her. But Aphrodite had left detailed instructions with a poker-faced modiste called Elena, who was awaiting her in the same elegant room.
The modiste had explained that it was she who made the clothing for Madame Aphrodite’s protégées—and Madame Aphrodite herself, she added, with a reverence that told Vivianna more about the modiste than Aphrodite. “I have a shop in Regent Street,” she said proudly. Elena seemed to believe that Vivianna was one of the protégées, and Vivianna had thought it best to pretend it was so. Besides, new clothing was something Lady Greentree had instructed her about, and she had the letter allowing her to draw upon Lady Greentree’s account at Hoare’s Private Bank on Fleet Street.
In no time, Elena and her assistant had Vivianna down to her undergarments. Elena had then set about measuring her, discreetly murmuring numbers to her minion to be written down in a little book. The modiste had brought with her samples of cloth, pattern books, and some dresses that were already made up to a near-finished state. “Madame Aphrodite explained your size to me,” she had said, when a surprised Vivianna had asked how they knew what would fit her. Aphrodite was clearly very observant, for with a few adjustments here and there, the garments had been complete. One of them was the white muslin dress with the yellow and green pattern that she had on now, and the matching half-boots, which pinched a little. Vivianna had never worn anything so frivolous, and had been quite sure it would not suit her.
She had been wrong. The dress had brought out the coquette in her, a part of her personality that she had not known existed. She felt attractive and playful, and she found she was enjoying herself.
The frivolous yellow silk parasol with the fringe and ivory-tipped handle had been added at the last moment. It had come with instructions from Aphrodite that, to her certain knowledge, Oliver was presently visiting Lady Marsh’s house in Eaton Square, Belgravia, and that Vivianna should call upon him there. There had been a note, too:
One thing I learned during my days in the demimonde was that a man can be held enthralled by a woman. If she continually surprises him, if he finds her mysterious, if she is different, then he will want her. The man we discussed is already attracted to you. He will not expect you to dress in such clothing. Keep him intrigued, mon chou, and soon he will give you anything you want.
“But I know nothing yet!” Vivianna had wailed to Dobson, who had come to the room to deliver the message and the parasol. “I need to understand more, to learn…oh, just to know what to do!”
“What’s to know?” Dobson had retorted. “I think you’re a lovely girl, Miss Greentree, and if Lord Montegomery don’t know that already, then he’s a fool and not worth bothering with.”
Vivianna hadn’t been able to help smiling at his simplistic view of things, even as the fact that he knew her secret caused her some consternation. “When can I see Miss Aphrodite, Dobson?”
Dobson had avoided her eyes. “Don’t you worry, she’s just a little under the weather. It happens sometimes. She’ll be all right soon. Call back in a day or two, miss.”
“Dobson, it wasn’t anything I said, was it? That made her ill?”
Dobson’s gray eyes had met her worried ones. “No, miss,” he assured her, his battered face turning gentle. “It wasn’t nothing you said. She’s a strong lady, but she’s had tragedy in her life, and sometimes it all gets too much for her. She’ll be right as rain soon, you’ll see.”
“I hope so.”
“That umbrella there,” he had added, nodding at the parasol and giving her a wink. “Used that on a French count, she did. He fell in love with her as soon as he saw her with it. Can’t go wrong with that, miss.”
So, reassured, Vivianna had left, clutching her new belongings and the parasol as if they were her ticket to win a lottery. The softer hairstyle had been her own idea, with Lil’s help, and modeled on Aphrodite.
Now, as the cab rattled along, Vivianna remembered the look on Oliver’s face when he had first set eyes on her across the lawn. He might have been struck by lightning. Oh yes, she recognized the expression in his eyes; she knew it well. It was very similar to the sensation that she, too, had felt when she set eyes upon him.
At least she had managed to persuade him to come with her to Candlewood. Or rather, Lady Marsh had done the persuading. Perhaps Lady Marsh would turn out to be an unexpected ally. Vivianna did not really understand why, but did it matter? As long as she won in the end, did anything else matter at all?
Vivianna reached the Russell house in Queen’s Square, still full of her triumph. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she stripped off her gloves, until she realized that Toby was standing near the door to the dining room, watching her with that detestable smirk on his face.
Vivianna didn’t trust him an inch.
“And where has my niece been? And looking absolutely scrumptious, I must say!”
“Visiting friends,” she said shortly, and moved toward the stairs.
“Don’t run off, my dear.” He moved quickly, his hand upon her arm. Vivianna would have liked to wrench it off, but that would be rude; this was her aunt’s husband, after all. So she straightened and looked him in the eye, as if daring him to insult her.
Toby smiled. He had always been a handsome man and still was, but the depredations of drink and hard living were taking their toll. There were small veins reddening his cheeks and nose, and pouches under his eyes, which were particularly noticeable if he had been out very late the night before.
