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She snickered. “He keeps nipping at the lady’s tail feathers and pursues when she speeds away. And those two are already a couple. See how they must always touch wherever they go?”
His eyes widened. Both wonder and grief twisted through his expression. “Vivian made up stories like that about the ducks too,” he said in a small voice. “There’s another couple over there.” He pointed to two of the waterfowl. The female kept swimming away whenever the male came near.
“Oh, yes. She wants him to work for attentions, I think.”
“How well I know that feeling.” But he grinned. “There is nothing wrong with that. It makes certain the male is determined and hooked.”
“Perhaps.” They needed to change the subject before he grew too maudlin. “Did you cut short your visit with Lord Randolph?”
“He had other business to attend, but we shall see him in a few days.”
“Oh? Have you invited him to dinner, then?” Percival’s friends weren’t bad sorts, and for that they had her respect.
“No.” He put a hand within his jacket of navy superfine and withdrew an ivory envelope, still sealed with a blob of green wax. “He’s asked us to attend the rout his parents are throwing, for his father wishes to help us reenter society with his endorsement.”
“What?” This was heady news indeed. She took the envelope. And with shaking hands, cracked the seal, removed the card from inside, and looked over the script written in a bold hand. “This feels so sudden.”
“Indeed.” A faint grin curved his mouth as he stared out at the ducks paddling back and forth over the water’s surface. “We would need to enter society together at some point anyway. It might as well be at the marquess’ request.”
“Lord Randolph’s father is a marquess?”
“Unfortunately for him, yes.” Percival chuckled. “He’s in for a rather large life turnabout when that title passes to him.”
“From what I’ve observed of him, he’ll step into the role with aplomb.” He certainly had the personality to hold the title. Knots of anxiety tugged in her stomach muscles when she thought about attending the rout, regardless that the people throwing it supported them. “This could go terribly wrong, Percival. It… frightens me. Not for my reputation, for I have none to speak of, but for you and Deborah’s future chances.”
If the little girl’s life was destroyed due to what Lavinia had formerly been, she would never forgive herself.
He turned toward her on the bench, and as his knee bumped hers, a jolt of awareness surged through her. “We shall face down the tabbies of the ton together. It’s not as if I haven’t been on the receiving end of vitriol before.”
“Surely not while you were married to Vivian.”
“No, not then. My wife was above reproach.” He shook his head. Sadness lingered in his eyes, but cold disappointment coiled within her gut. There was no way she’d ever appear as good in his eyes. “She was as proper as one could be, and in many ways, I tried hard to be that for her, but…”
“But you are still you, and you feel you failed,” she finished in a soft voice. The poor man had gone through his life thinking he was never good enough for anyone. When would he realize he was?
“Yes. I cannot imagine what she’d think about the man I became after her death.” Once more, he stared out at the duck pond. “I rather doubt she would have stood by me as a drunk.”
Lavinia laid a hand over his. “You wouldn’t have taken to the bottle had she still been alive.” And he certainly wouldn’t have sought her out as a mistress. If there was one thing she admired about Percival, it was the fact he was astonishingly loyal—a one woman man.
“True.”
“I… I am sorry your second wife isn’t nearly as pleasing as your first.” Would he ever consider her as good for him as Vivian was? Would he learn to love her on her own merits?
“There is no ‘better,’ Nia.” For a fleeting second, she reveled in the shortened version of her name, the moniker he’d called her when she’d worked for a living on her back. “There is only different, and neither are wrong.” He didn’t glance at her, but his hand shook in hers. “Imagine how boring life would be if I’d chosen two women who were exactly the same.”
Perhaps there was some truth in that. She certainly hadn’t chosen lovers with the same temperament or personality. “You haven’t had a drink recently.” It wasn’t a question, but the knowledge lifted her spirits. It chased away the blue devils that had descended during the course of the conversation.
“Not since you took the brandy bottle from me and dumped it out.”
“How wonderful!” She squeezed his fingers. “That makes me absurdly pleased. Thank you for keeping your word. I rather doubt the suffering you’re currently experiencing feels good.”
“No, it doesn’t” Finally, he turned his head and held her gaze. A flush rose up his neck. Never say he was… embarrassed by her praise? “But I want a life with you.” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat. “I want to make this marriage real.” He clutched at her fingers. “So I will do this, no matter how difficult. Just be patient with me. Progress might prove slow. I don’t want you to hate me if I stumble.”
“I promise if you’ll do the same with me, and Percival, I could never hate you.” Tears prickled the backs of her eyelids. Lavinia blinked to hold them at bay. “Especially when the ton will judge us the second we set foot into that rout. Because of me. It won’t be pleasant.” Whether he believed it or not, something horrible was coming their way. She could feel it and had the experience to know that premonition was true.
“Bah.” Percival huffed. “The best defense is to ignore the lot of them. I choose to let truth and integrity speak for itself.” A touch of his old arrogance threaded through the statement. “I married you; I’ll stand by you. Period.”
“Oh.” Her heart trembled, for she so wanted to believe he was right. “Do you think I’ll be accepted in the ton?”
A muscle ticced in his cheek, but he kept hold of her hand. “Yes, eventually. It’s much like my quitting the drink. Progress might prove incremental and there might be slip ups. However, I won’t let you fall alone, Lavinia.” Nothing but truth reflected in his expression. The way he said her name sent a host of heated tingles down her spine. “I put you into this mess, and I’ll be damned if I cannot lead you out of it.”
It was the first time he’d admitted to his part of the events leading up to the wedding. “I appreciate that.” When he released her hand and then slid his arm about her waist, an unexpected sigh escaped her throat. “As well as the effort you’re making.” Perhaps being seen on his arm in society wouldn’t be as bad as she feared. “It means so much.” Never had she known a man to make such an effort on her behalf before.
“It’s what a man should do.” He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist where her pulse fluttered. “Besides, I rather fancy dancing with you. And you have an exquisite eye for fashion. I know that whatever you wear, you’ll easily eclipse those silver-tongued vipers.”
Heat infused her cheeks. “Too much more of that and I might find myself utterly besotted.”
“Would that be such a terrible outcome?” he said in a barely audible voice. His eyes lit briefly before the familiar grief overtook it. Then he stood and brought her up with him. “Perhaps we should return to the house. There is much to attend to before this rout.”
Lavinia stifled a sigh. Would he ever be able to look at her as the woman she was without being overshadowed by the memories of his first wife?
