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Vivian refused to think of the incident, because she knew if she did, her cheeks would truly ignite. Instead, she nodded. ‘I’m so thankful it was not worse.’
Everleigh put a hand to his chest and, with the slightest movement, acted as if an arrow had pierced him. ‘Mrs Mavis and Miss Darius, for both of you, I’m certainly pleased it was not...’ he appraised Vivian ‘...worse.’
‘I suppose I should stay as your chaperon, but this day has been a thorny one.’ Mavis patted back the strand of hair that had escaped from her bun. ‘I am too old to stay awake much longer, but you two can sit and read.’
‘Mavis,’ Vivian cautioned.
Everleigh understood Vivian’s view. Propriety demanded a chaperon.
Mavis stared at the Earl’s son. ‘You leave the door open, Everleigh.’ She tipped her head back.
Vivian watched Mavis. ‘If you’re concerned—stay. You are my companion.’
Mavis gave a long blink. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. If I were a sensible companion, I would never have let you stop here on the way home.’ She fixed a glower on Everleigh. ‘You will mind your behaviour with Vivian, Everleigh, or I will put a curse of my own on you.’ She waved a finger. ‘That concept is beyond frightening.’
‘You have my word that I will be a gentleman,’ Everleigh reassured her.
‘You have my word that I will be sleeping softly, listening,’ Mavis said, leaving.
Everleigh had kissed Vivian when they were alone before and that was a request he’d been honoured to fulfil. But he would take pains not to do anything that would give her the impression there would be more between them.
Besides, an evening with Vivian would make the solitude of the estate less stifling and she’d be on her way in the morning.
He wouldn’t have returned to his father’s house, except he’d broken up with Alexandria, and she’d not taken it well. She’d seen herself as a future countess and becoming a true member of the peerage. He’d had trouble convincing her it wasn’t to be. He’d distanced himself from her for months, but she didn’t want to let him go.
She’d taken to searching him out and he’d been polite to her, but insisted that they were not more than friends.
Her father hadn’t dissuaded her and Everleigh knew he’d wanted his daughter to be a countess, the same as his grandfather had wanted.
Everleigh had overlooked that at first, but then he’d realised that wasn’t the problem. The difficulty had been his lack of feelings.
The kiss with Vivian had sealed the end of his relationship with Alexandria. What had begun as a perfunctory moment with Vivian had instantly blossomed into something deeper.
He’d realised how superficial he’d been with Alexandria and she with him.
It made him ill at ease to see how he’d made the motions of courting, yet neither he nor Alexandria had much of a rapport.
He’d still considered marriage, but something inside him had rebelled at the notion, infusing a reluctance so deep he could not propose. When he’d realised that, he’d been firm in his final goodbye to Alexandria, even as she’d asked him to reconsider. He’d insisted it was not a possibility and said it would not be fair for either of them to entertain the notion.
Now, he understood his reluctance better.
Vivian was altogether different from Alexandria. He liked having Vivian close. It seemed to take away the suffocating feel of the estate. The only pleasant memories he had of the house were with his brother, Daniel, and his grandfather. When one of them hadn’t been available, he’d often visited Ella Etta if she were on the estate.
All had been well, until after university. His grandfather had died of an apoplexy. The tension had momentarily lessened between him and his father, although he’d sensed his father was dancing on the inside to have the older man gone. The peace had been brief.
He’d never stayed long at the estate after that.
Vivian paused when Everleigh touched her arm.
‘I will call a maid if you wish,’ he said. ‘But I promise you I will act as if your companion is still sitting in the room.’
Vivian hid her disappointment.
‘Why don’t I read to you?’ he suggested, lighting the branch of candles.
She raised her brows. ‘This library only has about ten books in it. I would assume you’re not overly fond of reading.’
‘My father’s absconded with most of the volumes. If you were to see his chambers, you’d see the library. No servant is allowed to move a book and he has them stacked along the walls. Though most of them are truly mine—passed to me from my mother’s father. He considered this his home.’
He held out his arm, letting Vivian precede him to the books. ‘Grandfather had a way of showing up unannounced, with baggage, for all my school holidays.’
‘It is good that he could be close to you.’
‘Father would usually leave or stay out of the main rooms, which overjoyed my grandfather.’ He shrugged. ‘Grandfather had other grandchildren, but Daniel and I were his favourites and he and I got along best of all.’
‘Perhaps he saw his daughter in you and that kept you close.’
‘Doubtful.’ The word dismissed her suggestion as a blatant miscalculation. ‘He saw himself in me, if anyone. I looked up to him, even though I could see his overbearing nature. He regarded me differently from everyone else. He valued the title I’m expected to inherit, even though it wasn’t from his lineage.’
Vivian understood. Her father was a baron and the title, even though it wasn’t as elevated as an earl’s, meant something to him, her mother and her. Some day it would go to her father’s nephew, but that couldn’t be helped.
She noticed the books in front of her. ‘Please choose whichever book you’ve been reading. I am curious to see what you might select from those, oh, ten books.’
He laughed when he moved to them, touching one of his long fingers to the spines as he peered at the titles. ‘I assure you these are not the best, but the opposite.’ He took a book from the widest shelf, grasping it with both hands. ‘The Book of Martyrs by John Foxe. This is the last thing I’d choose for the fairer sex to read. Grim tales.’
She examined him. The weighty book would work as well as a chaperon, she supposed. For just a second longer their eyes held. She wondered if he tested her.
She sat, relaxing into the large chair. She would show him her mettle. ‘Well, I’ve never read it. Have always been fascinated by martyrs. Don’t worry about reading around the most unpleasant parts.’ Although she supposed his voice could make even a tale of being drawn and quartered less hideous.
‘Are you certain?’ he asked.
‘I’ll stop you if it is beyond me.’ She would not complain at even the ghastliest section that he could choose.
She heard his movements as he sat on the plump sofa and thumbed through the book, and a few words as he read.
But when she blinked, things blurred softly around her, and she dozed.
Awakening, she was aware the candles had burned down considerably. She’d fallen asleep for some time.
His head rested, propped by his arms. The book at his side, forgotten.
He switched his attention away from her, grasping the volume he’d placed on the chair. ‘You don’t wake quietly.’
‘What?’
‘You wriggle and make small animal noises.’
She stared across at him, letting her affront show with a touch of hurt in her words. ‘I do not. Mavis would have told me, I’m sure.’
‘You squeaked.’
‘I did not.’
He made a mouse sound and challenged her a tiny peep.
‘I was dreaming of a particularly gruesome martyr. And butterflies.’ She sat up, still pulling her mind back from the fog.
‘I never finished the first page before you were slumbering away.’
‘I can’t help it. I get so sleepy since I’ve been ill. I never seem to get enough rest.’
‘Do you feel refreshed now?’ he asked.
‘Yes. It is an adventure for me to be out of my room and even the jostling carriage ride was a treat. If my mother and father hadn’t been visiting my aunt, I would never have been able to steal away.’
‘I suspected that your parents wouldn’t let you journey so far without them.’
‘My mother might have if I were well. My father would have forbidden it.’
‘You should follow your father’s instructions.’
She could tell by his expression that he was pleased she hadn’t.
Sitting across from her, in his father’s house, made the room feel like a home—which it rarely did. The waves of bitterness and anger and grief that had kept the house afloat now seemed to have receded like flood waters when the rains stopped.
He hoped she wouldn’t rise and decide to go to her room, but she didn’t seem inclined to move. He settled back in his chair, more relaxed than he could remember being in a long time.
She moved back into her chair and tucked her hands at her side, palms flat.
‘You’re watching me rather intently...’ She let her words flow away.
‘I’m just waiting to see if you’d ask for another kiss.’
‘I’m not sure about that because you said you’d act as if a chaperon were in the room. I’d hate it if you refused me a kiss.’ She slanted her head. ‘Didn’t you already tell me no? Once? At the time of the kiss, I seem to remember you saying I should return to Mavis.’
‘Entanglements can be difficult. They can cause too much upheaval.’
‘I would think...a female who is not likely to live much longer would be a perfect companion for a male who doesn’t like entanglements.’
‘Don’t spout such nonsense, Vivian. The physicians don’t know everything. You must live as if you are going to remain among us for ever.’
‘When you kissed me, it was the first time I had any good fortune because of my sickness. I rather liked that.’ Her lips curved up at the memory.
He stood, walked to the fireplace and picked up a small figurine, rubbing a thumb over it as if it were a talisman.
‘Are you fond of a particular lady?’ she asked.
He challenged her curiosity with a frown.
‘I’m sure you shouldn’t tell me, then.’ She dipped her chin. ‘But I’m all ears.’
He reached to the branch of candles and let his finger flit and flirt with the flames. ‘I had a friend. A lovely woman. A darling of society. Well entrenched in the ton, through her mother’s relatives among the peerage. You could not ignore her. On the surface, her loveliness is everything, but nothing attractive is inside her. We have talked. She wishes to marry and believes we should. I considered it, but I noticed a side of her that made me uneasy. I’ve told her that we wouldn’t suit, but she still sees herself as my bride.’
‘She’s brave to be so bold.’ Vivian almost felt scandalised herself.
Everleigh pulled his finger from the flame and his lips turned up. ‘You’re a fine one to talk. You had no trouble asking for a kiss. A kiss is simple enough...as long as it stops there.’
‘So your heart is taken by her, but you find her unsuitable?’
He shook his head. ‘This friend and I—we had spent hours together.’ He kept his attention on her. ‘Talked very frankly. I’d considered her for a wife, but then I realised it would never do. I told her I would never marry. She seemed fine with it, but—’
Ella Etta’s words bounced back into her consciousness. ‘Why do you think never to marry?’
‘You certainly ask what you wish.’
Vivian’s chin went out. ‘I see no reason to waste time with demure fishing for what I would like to know.’
‘You are of definite opinions.’
‘As are you.’
His lips firmed and his sharp nod was a statement of confirmation. ‘I’m staying here because I am hoping to give Alexandria a chance to find someone else and forget me.’
In a fluid movement, he tapped his finger to one of the candle flames, drowning it in its own wax. ‘I felt that she passed the bounds of friendship by refusing to understand my reluctance to go further with our courtship.’
‘I am certainly glad you didn’t think I passed the bounds of just meeting someone by suggesting a kiss.’
In little more time than it would have taken her to count to five, he extinguished all but one candle, using his fingers. ‘That kiss.’ He leaned back now into his chair, lost in memories. His face was towards the ceiling and his arms were lax, and his legs sprawled. If she’d just entered the room, she might have thought him dozing. ‘It was a perfect kiss to me. Sweetness. You. I knew then that I had been correct in ending the courtship with Alexandria. I had seen the gaiety in Alexandria and thought it enough. That’s not fair to her.’
The azure glimpse took in all of her, evaluating. ‘I cared for Alexandria. But love?’ He shook his head.
‘Have you loved anyone at all. Ever?’ The dim light in the room, the circumstances of her health, the tiredness gave her freedom to ask. And the wine at dinner hadn’t hurt.
‘Is there no question you won’t ask?’
‘You have the freedom not to answer.’
‘And I have the strength not to answer. Sometimes, ignoring gives one the appearance of responding. If I refuse to answer, it’s as if I’m agreeing. I don’t appreciate that.’ He pulled at the cravat tied at his throat, loosening it, then stood. With one stride, he closed the distance between them. ‘But, no. I’ve not been in love, nor do I believe in it. It is a fleeting lie people tell themselves and others for various reasons. Much like the tales Ella Etta told me over the years.’
He leaned his upper body towards her. ‘More questions, Miss Vivian?’
‘Everleigh, I have been ill two years.’ She had to look up at him and she raised her fingers to emphasise her words. ‘Two years of reading, embroidery and trying to get the strength to read more and embroider more.’ She dropped her hand. ‘I have had some time to think and found I have little to think about. You are a man with much more experience in life than I have and you’ve all sorts of answers to questions I don’t even have enough awareness to know what to ask.’
‘Ask me,’ he offered and let the silence build.
She waited. ‘Ask what?’
‘Whatever thought is burning into you with such intensity that you cannot let the subject drop.’ He moved closer, lessening the air between them. ‘I know what you want to know.’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know... I... I don’t really have a question, other than what I asked.’
His chin tilted down. ‘Don’t be a coward.’
‘If I asked for another kiss, would you give it?’ She asked the question, not as an offer, but curious.
He reached out, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. His fingers warmed her hand, but slid up her arms to hold her shoulders. The sensation of her skin touched him, but he ignored it, reminded of how easily a female could capture a male’s attention.
Vivian could just do so more easily than others, but it didn’t matter. He spoke carefully, not wanting to hurt her, aware of the tenderness and innocence she held. ‘No, Vivian. That was a fleeting instant. We both had just seen Mavis injured and our emotions were high. You probably wanted to be distracted.’
He looked into the distance. ‘Vivian, you should have been married long ago. You have too much curiosity for your own good. And now it is time we both said goodnight.’
‘I’m most curious to know what is behind the curtain of your thoughts. I want to know more of you than I ever expected.’
Now he moved closer, so near he could not breathe without taking in the warmth of her.
‘Vivian.’ He took her chin, and she couldn’t move. He’d made her motionless with his touch, but he’d not been able to stop himself. ‘There is little to interest you in my thoughts. I put them from myself.’
‘You cannot.’
‘Yes.’ He shook his head, moving away. Standing within arm’s reach could lead to another kiss and she probably would not refuse him. And he would have stepped past a layer of caution that they needed between them. He had been around long enough to know when the warnings sounded in his body. Long enough to listen.
He took a step closer to the bookshelves.
Vivian watched him. A sheltered, naive innocent. Unaware of the catastrophic consequences that could be unleashed by simple kisses, soft touches and too much trust and naivety. He couldn’t bring her into his world of solitude.
‘You really shouldn’t have stopped at the estate. Have you never heard tales of princesses wandering deep into the woods and needing to be rescued? There are no knights to rescue you if your heart should get involved.’
‘My heart?’ she asked. ‘I doubt that I have any strength in it. My strength is used to simply stay alive. I feel stronger around you. That’s all it is and I like it.’
‘That is so very dangerous. Because then when I leave, you will have used your health and have even less than you had before.’
He returned to his chair again and lowered himself into it.
He’d never expected to find a visitor at the estate.
When he’d returned, he’d searched out Ella Etta and told her about Alexandria. He’d even told her about Vivian’s unexpected visit in town—but not the kiss—and how he’d felt concern for the innocent woman, asking Ella Etta to search out Vivian to see if she could help her.
Ella Etta had told him that Alexandria was not in his heart. Not in his mind. Nor even in his words. She’d claimed his voice sounded dead when he talked of Alexandria and that it would destroy both of them to be married to each other. She’d grimaced, claiming the sad part was that their children might have forked tails.
Now he had Vivian sitting in front of him—the opposite of Alexandria.
Vivian’s sweetness surrounded him and he realised the trap of falling into another friendship and hurting Vivian. That, he could not risk.
Standing now, he turned away. He could not observe her reaction to what he was about to say.
His words were low, harsh, designed to send Vivian out of the room. ‘I thought I needed a wife. But I don’t. I have a housekeeper. I have clubs for entertainment. Solitude suits me. I gave you a kiss and I enjoyed it. But it was not anything to remember. Just an interlude to satisfy a question you had when I thought I would never see you again.’
She stood. The lighting in the room increased and he knew she’d taken the single candle, using it to light a fresh brace of candles. Her footsteps were hesitant.
‘I think I should beg your pardon as well.’ She spoke from behind him. ‘I asked for what you thought and you told me. If it upsets me, I shouldn’t blame you.’
Heartbeats passed between them, then he turned and studied her. ‘Vivian. If I see you when others are present, I assure you, I will say all the proper words. We will never again be able to speak so plainly. And, if our words have offended the other, so be it. At least we spoke as we thought. I bear you no ill will at all for your questions and I appreciate your honesty. Please accept mine.’
She moved to the door, then hesitated. ‘You’ve given me moments of peace. Almost of seeing into the future and what I could have. I will thank you for that for ever.’
She studied him, but he didn’t want to dwell on what she found. He might feel something for her, and it would do neither of them any good. Then he took the relaxed knot of his cravat, releasing it more. Taking the length of it, he pulled the fabric through his hands, then he repeated the movement, sliding the cloth back and forth.
‘I also came here, to sort out why I cannot love. Why I would consider marrying someone who did not even particularly appeal to me.’
‘Did you work it out?’
‘Yes. I had no capability to care for Alexandria. I told her. Yet she still wished to marry me and I thought she had accepted the solitude I offered. But I realised she wanted more and I could never give it to her. She would be happy at first, but it would be the novelty of marriage and the situation. In time she would grow to hate me and I would likely do the same with her.’
‘Mutual hatred would be a good reason to reconsider marriage.’
‘Yes. I suppose, I have loved my mother, grandfather, my brother and my father...and the first two are gone and my father and I can’t particularly agree. My brother and I do not even write to each other.’
‘What of your mother?’
‘I accepted that she died and I didn’t grieve overmuch. I suppose I spent more time with everyone else around me than I spent with her. Each time I saw my grandfather, the man I cared most for, he reminded me that I was the keeper of the legacy. I keep the finances for my brother and my father, and my brother is sure to marry. I may marry as well, but it will be to someone who understands that my time must be spent working. I have an ability few are trusted with. London needs me. It is my lot in life and I can’t let down those less fortunate than myself.’
He stood, rotated and tossed the cravat into the chair. ‘It was so easy to kiss you, Vivian. A kiss that reached deeper into me than I could have imagined. A kiss that seared my soul. Too bad it could not touch my heart.’
‘Ella Etta said you had no heart. I may have made a mistake in wanting to know your thoughts.’ She took one step back, pausing before she left.
‘You did. At this moment, all my thoughts centre around you. All of them. It is just that that is not enough.’
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