Chapter 3
Chapter Three
“Ineed some air; please excuse me.” Vivian forced herself not to sprint away from the conversation.
The noise of the ball was nothing like Vivian had expected. Although she had spent the entire week preparing for the event, making sure she had a new dress and brushing up on her dancing skills, nothing could have prepared her for the chaos of the Dowager Duchess’s party.
Everyone around her seemed perfectly poised and at ease. Vivian was not sure she had ever seen so many elegant men and women in the same place. Though she had been introduced to several potential suitors, her dance card remained woefully empty, and she struggled to think of anything to say to them.
I should never have come here. She felt as though the world was pressing against her. Her heart thundered in her chest, and she struggled to make sense of the wall of noise and conversation around her. This was a mistake; I am going to die a spinster.
She sped up, thinking only of leaving this place and her humiliation behind. She collided with something warm.
“Oh, I am terribly sorry I—” the rest of her words died in her throat when she realized who she had bumped into. “What are you doing here?”
Staring up at her with wide green eyes was her ex-fiancé, the Viscount of Brixten.
His blond hair was slicked back, covering up the thinning patch at the top of his head.
Beside him was a woman—well, a girl really—who could not have been more than eighteen.
She was pretty, with a smile that lit up a room, and sweet, innocent eyes.
“It is a ball, Lady Vivian.” Lord Brixten’s lips quirked into a smile. “And the social event of the Season. I am surprised to see you here, though.”
“I am not the one who is meant to be on their honeymoon.” Vivian forced herself to smile. “And this must be your new Viscountess. How wonderful to meet you.”
The girl’s eyes widened as Vivian looked at her, but before she could reply, Lord Brixten cut in, his smile never faltering. In fact, it widened as he turned to look at the pretty girl on his arm. “Yes. This is my darling Gwendoline, Lady Brixten. She is the daughter of Lord Windstone.”
Daughter of a marquess and one of the wealthiest men in the country. Vivian swallowed. And of course, she is one of those women who are effortlessly beautiful.
She tried not to think of just how long she had spent getting ready for the ball; Vivian would never be the kind of woman who caught men’s eye with a simple glance.
“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Vivian.” Lady Brixten’s voice was high-pitched and girlish.
Vivian was painfully aware of her height as she towered over the girl and her ex-fiancé. She knew that she should return the woman’s pleasantries, but her mouth seemed unable to form words.
“I am sure that our marriage must have been something of a shock to you, my lady, but you must know it could not be helped.” Lord Brixten turned away from his wife to face Vivian, tilting his head and smiling at her in a way that set her teeth on edge.
“We fell in love,” Lady Brixten added, giggling and covering her mouth. “As soon as I saw my dearest, sweetest Benjamin-boo, I knew that my heart would only beat for him.”
Vivian felt like she was going to be sick. Her cheeks flushed deep scarlet, and she prayed for the floor to break open and swallow her whole.
“And try as I might, I could not resist my lovely Gwenny-bear’s siren call.
I had not planned to fall in love; no one does, but the force of it…
when I met her at the Baron’s ball, I felt the pull.
And though I tried to fight it for as long as I could, it was too powerful for me.
” Lord Brixten squeezed his wife’s hand.
“And with the estate being so close to Gretna Green, it seemed like fate was guiding us toward each other.”
“I know that you were promised to one another, but surely you can find it in your heart to forgive us?” Lady Brixten gave Vivian a radiant smile. “We are young and in love.”
You may be young, but Lord Brixten is nearly forty years old. Vivian held back the words she wanted to say and swallowed them. What was one supposed to do in this situation?
“Though I can only imagine the kind of pain this has caused you, you must know that I bear you no ill will.” Lord Brixten tilted his head toward her, as though he were a mourner at a woman’s sickbed. “This was not done out of malice.”
“And of course, we will do everything in our power to help you,” Lady Brixten added.
“Of course, and just that you are here this evening is a testament to your bravery, to your spirit and determination. Even in the face of such hardship, what with your advanced age and now this. Truly, it is so commendable of you to hold your head up high and with such dignity.” Lord Brixten pursed his lips, his smile setting Vivian’s teeth on edge.
He pities me. They both pity me. The realization struck Vivian with the force of a bullet. Fury filled her, and she only just managed to keep from clenching her hands into fists. How dare they pity me? Her shock vanished, and she forced herself to smile at them.
“Though your words are kind, my lord, in truth, I do not need your commendation. This has been a little shock, but that quickly passed.” With some satisfaction, she saw Lord Brixten’s smile falter somewhat.
It made her own broader. “In fact, I find that I am grateful that you and your wife found one another. Not only have you been able to find a love you both clearly yearn for, but I have now been gifted a world of opportunity.”
She gestured around them, letting a false giggle slip from her mouth. “Which reminds me, I really must be getting to my next dance. You never know when you might meet the love of your life.”
Without waiting for a response, Vivian turned on her heel and tucked her empty dance card into her reticule.
Pity? I will show them! She strode up to a tall figure with short black hair and gently tapped on his arm.
“I believe this next dance is between you and me, my lord. Though I have lost my dance card.” She smiled as broadly as she could, praying that her gamble would work. What am I doing?
“Then it is fortuitous indeed that you remembered that I had promised you this dance.” The man’s voice was low and reminded her of dark chocolate.
He turned to face her, and Vivian’s heart twisted.
He was taller than she had realized, his broad muscles highlighted in his well-tailored clothes.
His face was all sharp lines and hard angles, with a jaw that looked like chiseled marble.
His piercing blue eyes made her feel like he was looking right through her.
“Shall we dance?” He held out his hand to her.
Her mouth suddenly went dry, and she nodded, not trusting herself to speak as he took her hand and led her toward the dance floor. The smell of amber washed over her, making her head swim. He walked with a confidence that reminded her of a lion she had once seen at the royal menagerie.
As he put his hand at the small of her back, Vivian felt a rush of warmth spread through her. She looked up into his eyes and found herself lost in his gaze. His lips quirked into a half smile, and her heart pounded against her ribs.
“Remind me again, what were we discussing when I asked you to dance, my lady?” His voice held an edge of amusement.
Vivian felt her muscles tense, and she nearly missed a step during their waltz. “I cannot remember.”
“I am unaccustomed to being so easily forgotten.” He caught her stumble, guiding her across the floor with such confidence and ease that it made her feel almost graceful.
She smiled, trying to ignore the way her heart thundered in her chest. She could feel beads of sweat trickling down the back of her neck.
It would help if he were not quite so handsome.
“And yet the memory of our conversation seems also to have eluded you.”
“Indeed. As has your name.” His eyes flashed, and Vivian felt as though a snare was tightening around her. “I am not the kind of man who forgets the name of a woman as breathtaking as you.”
Breathtaking? She would not be made fun of. “You are too kind. Perhaps your forgetfulness is due to my own unremarkable nature.”
“There is very little unremarkable about you, dear lady.” His eyes bored into her, and she felt as though all the air had been sucked from the room. “After all, few women would be bold enough to trick a stranger into dancing with them.”
The words hit her sharply. Her cheeks flushed scarlet, eyes widening. The man arched an eyebrow at her, and she knew she could not refute him. This was a ridiculous gambit, and now it has blown up in my face.
“I meant no offence. I was not thinking… I am sorry—I should never have done this. I should go.” Vivian tried to leave, but the man pulled her back, holding her closer than before, straddling the line of propriety.
“You need not apologize. I am simply curious as to the reason for it all. Why would a woman as pretty as you resort to such antics to secure a dance with someone? Especially when you do not seem to know who I am.” The man canted his head toward her, matching his steps to hers so perfectly it was as if they had been made for each other.
“Should I?” Vivian frowned at the stranger.
The man shrugged. “Answer my question first.”
Vivian hesitated for a moment and searched the stranger’s face for some hint of emotion.
It gave nothing away, but there was something about his piercing blue eyes that held her attention.
She had expected to see judgment or even rebuke, but instead she was greeted with curiosity.
As though she was a puzzle he could not quite work out.
He cannot think any less of me; I may as well tell him the truth.
She sighed. “I suppose I cannot embarrass myself any more than I have. My name is Lady Vivian Willows, and before I approached you, I had just run into my fiancé and his new wife.”