Sara Bennett (20 page)

S
ounds outside. Guests arriving. Servants calling, doors banging, and familiar voices speaking in excited tones.
Beloved
voices.

“Mama!”

Half awake, Vivianna was out of her bed and barefoot on the stairs, just as Lady Greentree and Marietta entered the house and looked up. Lady Greentree, her face pale and wan from the long journey, smiled with sheer relief.

“My dearest girl!”

Vivianna was down the final stairs in an instant and into her mother’s arms. She had not realized, when she came to London, just how much she would miss Lady Greentree. That calm, practical woman who was always there to advise her, to discuss her problems with, or to simply offer loving support.

She needed all three of those comforts now.

“Vivianna, it’s me! I am here!” Marietta, her blond curls bouncing, claimed a hug from her sister, although she could hardly keep still at the same time.
“We have left Francesca home,” she announced triumphantly, “because she is too young to come.”

“She did not want to,” Lady Greentree admitted, wiping her eyes. “Not without her dog.”

“And we could not have that smelly lurcher in the coach with us,” Marietta said, wrinkling her nose.

“Amy!” Now it was Helen’s turn to come running and throw her arms around her sister. They hugged and wept, while all about them an alarming amount of luggage continued to be brought in. When eventually order was restored and the newcomers had taken off their cloaks and bonnets, they all partook of breakfast in the breakfast room.

Vivianna had, by this time, washed and dressed and was feeling much more herself. On her way down the stairs for the second time, she had met Mr. Jardine, Lady Greentree’s trusted secretary and steward, coming up. A man of medium height with gray hair and twinkling blue eyes, he gave Vivianna a warm smile of welcome.

“I am glad to see you safe and well, Miss Vivianna.”

“And I, you, Mr. Jardine. We had no warning that you would all be coming to London.”

“It was rather sudden. Lady Greentree decided it was time she paid her sister a visit, and we set out the next day.”

“To pay Aunt Helen a visit or to check up on me?” Vivianna said drolly. “Well, I do not mind. I am so very glad to see you all.”

Above them, at the top of the stairs, Lil gave a little cry of excitement and burst out, “Mr. Jardine, sir! I didn’t know you was coming to London. Oh, I am that pleased to see you!”

Vivianna laughed at the maid’s enthusiasm, and Lil blushed a fiery red. Mr. Jardine took the remaining
stairs, and captured one of Lil’s hands, as if she were a lady, and gave it a little pat. “Dear Lil, it is I who am pleased to see you, as always. Tell me, have you seen all the sights of London yet? Or are there still some I can show you?”

“I’ve seen the Tower and the zoo, sir,” Lil said shyly.

“Well, that’s a start.”

Mr. Jardine was somewhere over forty, and still handsome, his skin browned from a life lived mostly in the West Indies. He had been an adventurer when he was young, and had made and lost a fortune, so it was said, although he spoke little of the matter himself. Now he was gazing down at Lil, a little smile on his lips—and Vivianna knew that he was very fond of her, but as a father might be fond of his daughter. He had been there when Vivianna brought Lil to Greentree Manor, and he felt a paternal responsibility toward her.

“Jacob is here, Lil. He drove the coach.”

“Oh.” Lil looked uncertain, and then she pursed her lips. “I hope he didn’t come to see me. You know I will not marry him, Mr. Jardine. I am looking higher than a coachman.”

Lil was twenty-five, a girl who had once lived on the streets and made her living from selling her body to men. She had regained her self-respect, and was fiercely loyal to the Greentree family, particularly Vivianna. Mr. Jardine had made it his task to look out for the girl, as he did all the Greentree servants, and he thought Jacob would make her a good husband. But Lil did not see it that way.

Mr. Jardine released her hand. “Well, I’d better get on, then, Lil, and leave you to your work. Miss Vivianna,” he said with a small bow. And he strode off toward his room on business of his own. Lil gazed after
him, and the look in her eyes was certainly not daughterly.

“Perhaps I should marry Jacob,” Lil said miserably. “No other man’ll have me. Not the man I want, anyway.”

Mr. Jardine and Lil? Vivianna thought. Surely not. Not on Mr. Jardine’s part anyway, even if Lil did nurture hopes. The chasm between them was great indeed, too great to breach.

“Lil, you will find someone,” she said gently. “Just wait and see. If not Jacob, then another young man will come along, a handsome stranger who will sweep you off your feet!”

“You sound as if you’ve already been swept off yours, miss,” Lil replied tartly.

Vivianna frowned. “Not at all, Lil. Quite the opposite, in fact.” And she made her way down to the dining room for breakfast with her family.

“Helen has told me that things are not going very well with Lord Montegomery and the Shelter for Poor Orphans,” Lady Greentree said, sipping her coffee.

Vivianna glanced sideways at Helen, but her aunt was busily spreading toast with marmalade.

“Unfortunately, he does not seem to be as easily persuadable as I had hoped, Mama. The Beatty sisters and I have decided we will have to take advantage of his offer of the lodging house in Bethnal Green—until something better comes along.”

“Is he unpleasant? This Montegomery?”

“N-no, not unpleasant, not really. Just…stubborn.” And for some reason she smiled; she couldn’t help it.

Lady Greentree’s eyes narrowed. “Oh? Then he’s just like you, my dear.”

Marietta giggled and, jumping up from her chair,
took a turn about the room. “Can we go to the shops, Mama? I want to buy a new bonnet and a gown and new shoes and—”

“For heaven’s sake, Marietta, sit down! I am exhausted and I am not going anywhere for at least a day. You will have time enough to go looking at the shops tomorrow. I am sure Vivianna will be happy to accompany you.”

Then Lady Greentree turned to her sister, taking advantage of a private chat while Toby was not there. Marietta came and sat closer to Vivianna, her bright blue eyes shining with mischief.

“I know you haven’t told us everything,” she whispered, so that the others could not hear her. “You have fallen violently in love with Lord Montegomery, haven’t you? Mama heard from one of her London friends that he is very handsome and a terrible rake. She was so worried you might fall under his spell that she came to keep guard on you. Like one of the beefeaters at the Tower of London.
I
would like to fall under the spell of a rake. Have you? What is it like?”

“Marietta, will you be quiet!” Vivianna gasped. “You are talking nonsense. I have not fallen under anyone’s spell, and he is not a…well, maybe he is, but I came here to try to persuade him not to demolish the shelter. It is just that it is taking longer than I had hoped.”

“But he
is
handsome? I know he is. Your mouth is all primed up, like it always is when you’re telling fibs.”

Vivianna didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Yes, Marietta, he is good-looking, but it is of no consequence. I don’t notice that when I am with him. I am too busy thinking of more important things.”

Marietta frowned, looked doubtful, and then
sighed. “Well, I think that is very dull of you, Vivianna. If I met a rake I would make the most of it, and I wouldn’t be talking about any old shelters!”

Later, Lady Greentree had some time alone with Vivianna. “I
was
worried,” she admitted, her pale eyes, so like Helen’s, searching her elder daughter’s. “And besides, Marietta was driving me to madness with her pestering. I thought we should come to London for a little while, just to see all was well with you, and to give her a chance to work it out of her system.”

“There was no need to worry,” Vivianna assured her, while knowing in her heart there were plenty of reasons. If her mother knew half of what she had done, she would be appalled and insist she return to Yorkshire with them immediately.

That was why she had decided not to tell her.

“Maybe not, but I must admit I feel better having seen so for myself. Oh, I forgot, Francesca has sent you her latest watercolor.” She fetched out a small bleak picture of the moor, with a single stunted tree as its centerpiece, flattened against the gales.

Vivianna looked at it in dismay. “I think she is getting worse,” she said.

Lady Greentree smiled. “I am sure she is. But I think she has a real talent all the same. Remember, she is but fifteen; in a few years’ time, she will be just like any other girl, painting pretty cottages and…and kittens.”

Vivianna laughed. “I think you are being optimistic, Mama, but I hope you are right. I do not think I could bear to have any more of her watercolors—they bring down my spirits.”

Lady Greentree sighed. “They do, rather, don’t they?”

“We are all of us different, aren’t we?” Vivianna
went on thoughtfully. “Marietta is vivacious and lively and full of mischief, whereas Francesca is solitary and dramatic and intense, and I…well, I am headstrong and difficult and…”

Lady Greentree took her hand and held it tightly. “You are passionate and caring and determined, my dear, and it does you credit. Believe me, I would not change any of you.”

For a moment Vivianna was tempted to tell her mother everything, but she stilled her tongue. What was the use of upsetting her? Comforting as it would be to unburden herself of her secrets, it would only lead to more trouble. Vivianna told herself that she had created this situation, and she must extricate herself from it.

After Oliver had left Vivianna he had gone to one of his clubs, and then another. He had thought of calling upon her again in Queen’s Square despite the late hour, but she would refuse to see him.

So he had gone on to play cards at White’s, and then to watch some fistfighting at the Bucket of Blood. Both occupations bored him, though, and he was home again long before midnight. He ignored Hodge’s long-suffering look and sat morosely in the library, trying to get drunk. And that was where he went to sleep.

And dreamed.

Strangely, in the dream he was running through Candlewood. His feet were slapping against the wooden floors on the upper story, bare feet, as though he had just risen from his bed and forgotten to put on his slippers. There was someone behind him. Someone following him, relentless in pursuit.

He knew then that he was running for his life.

There was something in his hand. Some papers. Let
ters? Thick paper and black ink, clutched in his fingers. Instinctively he knew it was the letters that whoever was behind him was seeking.

Down the uncarpeted servants’ stairs, dark and narrow. In front of him was the door to the unfinished wing of the house, and he wrenched it open and went through.

He ran on.

There was a huge mural on the ceiling with gods in battle armor and nymphs in not very much at all. He heard the sounds of pursuit, and knew in his heart that soon he was going to die. But, he told himself desperately, if he hid the letters, if he left a clue, then his brother would find them and avenge his death.

His brother, whom only hours before he had felt betrayed him. But now, in his moment of great peril, his feelings were redefined, made simple. He knew his brother loved him. Just as he loved his brother.

He turned again. There was a huge mirror on the wall, tarnished and cracked, but he could see into it. He could see himself.

Anthony.
It was Anthony who stared back at him. Anthony, in the last moments of his life.

The dream began to fade.

Oliver struggled to retain it, to keep himself within it, but he was spinning away, the room revolving, his brother’s face growing pale and distant below him.

“No!”

Oliver sat up in the library, his heart pounding, his breath heaving, the sweat dripping from him. He was alone, he thought, glancing to the dying fire and the smoking candles. All alone. He should be reassured by the fact, but he wasn’t.

He wanted someone to turn to and hold. He wanted a warm body beside him in bed at night. He wanted
someone to smile when he smiled, and show concern when he was sad.

He wanted Vivianna.

He might not trust her, but he could not seem to stifle the feelings he had for her. Whatever she felt for him, he wanted her, and yet for her own sake he must stay away from her.

I’ll tell her the truth first. I must. I have to warn her about Lawson. And after that I won’t see her again, ever…

Vivianna was late retiring, but despite her confused thoughts, or perhaps because of them, she sought out the diary given to her by Aphrodite, and settled down to read.

Aphrodite was older now, and Jemmy had gone off to be a soldier and fight the French. She found it strange and difficult at first, learning to be all that she had admired. Because there were so many French émigrés about, it had been decided that she should play at being one.