Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
“Ihave your breakfast.” Vivian nodded toward the laden silver tray in her hands.
Thomas blinked and shook his head. He was sitting at the desk in his study, where he had spent most of the night. Sunlight streamed through the window, warming the dark mahogany around them.
Vivian wore a simple, low-cut blue muslin dress with a delicate silver chain that drew his eye to the nape of her neck. The image of her in his bed from the night before sprang to his mind, and he forced it away.
I suppose I should be grateful that she has not come to me with only that.
He kept his face neutral as he gestured toward the tray in his wife’s hands. “That is not usually the sort of thing a marchioness would do.”
“I know.” Vivian hesitated and then took a step toward him, a flash of defiance in her eyes. “But the servants are busy, and I have always hated breakfasting alone, so I thought I would kill two birds with one stone.”
“How considerate of you. Unfortunately, I would be rather poor company. I have a lot of work to tend to.” He motioned to the papers scattered around him.
“Clearly, given that you have been at it all night.” She bit her lip. “Or at least I hope that is what kept you from your own bedchambers.”
“What else would it be?” He ran a hand through his hair.
“Another woman, perhaps?” Her voice shook, even as he saw her smile broaden.
“I would not dishonor you like that.” His voice was firm. “I swear.”
Vivian nodded and opened her mouth as though she were about to ask a question. His heart beat faster, wondering if she would ask what kept him from his own bed.
If this is going to work, we must be honest with one another.
He had walked into his chambers late the night before, only to find Vivian curled up on top of his bed. The fire had dwindled nearly to nothing, but the moonlight streaming through his window was enough for him to see exactly what she was wearing.
His heart quickened at the thought, his fingers flexing as he remembered lifting her gently into his arms and the way she had curled against him. He had tucked her into the bed, listening as she mumbled sleepily, her eyes briefly fluttering open.
She seemed so small and fragile, and as he had sat down on the bed beside her, he had felt a pull toward her, wanting to protect her from the world. Vivian seemed determined to test his resolve, and somehow, despite her innocence, she seemed to succeed.
Far, far too dangerous for her own good.
“That is good to hear.” Vivian set the tray on his desk, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I know you have work to do, but you do need to eat. And well, you said we could be friends.”
“I suppose that is true.” Thomas nodded and watched as she poured coffee.
The smell of coffee was a welcome distraction from the scent of roses wafting over him as she leaned across to hand him the cup.
Focus, Thomas. Keep it together. He sipped from his mug and then frowned. “What is in this?”
Vivian’s eyes widened, and she nearly dropped the cup in her own hands.
“Cinnamon. I have heard it can help with stiffness, and after spending all night working, you might be feeling some discomfort today. Though if you do not care for it, I can ask the cook to make us a fresh batch. I rather like the taste myself, but not everyone does. Perhaps I should not have done it or asked for it on the side? I will ask the cook for a fresh pot.”
Thomas reached toward her as she stood to leave, and she froze, looking down at his outstretched hand. He beckoned for her to sit, moving his hand back.
“Are you always so nervous? Or do I make you so?”
The tip of her tongue darted across her lips, and Thomas’s own mouth felt suddenly dry. “I… I am not nervous. “
“Do not lie to me.” Thomas arched an eyebrow at her.
He watched as color appeared on her cheeks, and she shook her head. “I am not. I just… I do not want you to think I am useless.”
“Why would I think that?” Thomas frowned, steepling his hands together as he looked at her.
“I cannot even do a simple thing like bring you breakfast without ruining it.” Vivian ran a hand through her hair and gestured toward the tray emphatically.
“I thought it would be a kind thing to add some spice to your coffee, but it did not even occur to me that you might not care for it. I am so used to having it in my own, and I always do this. My mother always tells me I am thoughtless and—”
“I would hardly call that thoughtless, Vivian.” He leaned toward her, wrestling with an anger that had burst unexpectedly to life in his chest as he had imagined her mother saying such things to her.
Why does that image affect me so?
“You were trying to do something kind for me. And I happen to like the addition.”
“You do not have to say that just to make me feel better.” Vivian shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself as she turned away from him.
“It is the truth.” Thomas reached toward her and gently turned her face back to him, his green eyes finding her hazel ones.
“I would not lie to you to spare your feelings. If the coffee were not to my liking, I would tell you. To pretend to like it when I did not would be a waste of both of our time.”
Thomas sipped from his cup, making sure she watched as he did it. He downed it, smacked his lips together, and watched as her eyes followed the movement, widening as they did. Spots of color appeared on her cheeks, and Thomas smiled.
“I just want to be useful.” Vivian swallowed, her eyes still on his lips. “You have already done so much for me, and I want to help. After all, this marriage is supposed to be of mutual benefit.”
“It is.” Thomas leaned back against his chair. “You do not need to prove yourself to me, Vivian. We are already married after all.”
A look he could not interpret flashed across her face. “And yet, so far, I feel like only I have seen the benefit. After all, it was you who made Lord Brixten so furious he practically stormed from the garden.”
“You played your part just as well as I did.” Thomas massaged his neck. “Besides, our dancing served my purpose too. I doubt there can be any question of my vitality after that little display.”
“I suppose that is true. I do not think I have ever danced so much. And you are a masterful dancer.” He saw her reach toward him and hastily took a sip of his drink. “You almost made me feel like I was equal to your skill.”
“That is because you are.” Thomas cleared his throat.
“I wish there were more I could do to repay you.” Her eyes flitted to his lips, and he saw something hard and fiery fill them.
“There will be plenty of time for that, I am sure.” He took a bite of one of the many pastries on the tray.
“We will part ways in a month, Thomas. I want to ensure that before we do, you feel you have gotten your fair share from this arrangement.” He was impressed that she had managed to keep from blushing as she said the words.
Clearly, she is getting bolder. He let his eyes travel across her body with deliberate slowness, leaning toward her as he bit into the pastry. He expected her to move away from him, but instead she held her ground, bringing an elbow onto the table and resting her chin on her hand.
“And what exactly are you offering, Vivian?” They were so close that he could count the eyelashes on her eyelids.
His heart thundered in his chest, and blood roared in his ears. The smell of roses was intoxicating, mingling with the coffee, cinnamon, and pastries.
“Whatever you want.” Her breath tickled his lips. “You only have to name it, and it is yours.”
Every hair on his body stood on end. It would be so easy to close the distance between them. They were barely more than a hair’s breadth from each other. The hazel in her eyes seemed to pull him into them like magnets.
“Anything?” he breathed.
The smell of roses muddled his mind, intoxicating. With an effort, he pulled back from her and leaned back in his armchair. He looked out of the window, listening to the sound of birds chirping as he tried to calm his racing heart.
He could hear her own ragged breathing, but he did not look up. He shook his head, clearing it of the fog that enveloped him. His eyes fell on the stack of papers on the tray, and he seized on the distraction.
“What is all this?”
“Invitations, I believe. Do you always receive so many?”
“I suspect these are not just for me, but for both of us. No doubt members of the ton are trying to curry favor.” He wrinkled his nose. “I expect we will receive at least a dozen more before the afternoon. Everyone will want a piece of us before we escape to the countryside.”
Vivian’s eyes widened. “I had not realized we would be in such demand. However, will we find time for all of it?”
“We will not. I have no intention of going to everything.” Thomas shrugged. “We will be selective; after all, we are supposed to be on our honeymoon.”
“Good.” Vivian nodded, and he could see the relief on her face. “Are there any in particular we should choose? I will admit I recognize only a handful of the names.”
“It is more a case of the ones I wish to avoid.” Thomas picked up several invitations and threw them in the fire. “Those will be so boring you will tear your arm off. And definitely not these either. The garden party and the ball will be good options.”
“This one is simply an invitation to an art gallery.” Her eyes lit up. “Could we go? It is a private exhibition!”
“I think that would be a wonderful idea.” Thomas smiled. “Now, if you will excuse me, I think I will take a walk. I find I am in need of some fresh air.”
“We could go together.” Vivian stood up, and he saw a fire in her eyes that held him in place.
“We could take a promenade around Hyde Park, perhaps visit a tearoom, and then come home this afternoon. It will give the ton a chance to see that you are as fit as can be, and that we are well and truly in love.”
Thomas hesitated. A part of him wanted to say no, but the more rational side of him saw the sense in her proposal. Besides, she will be able to cause far less trouble if we are in public. If I leave without her, who knows what I might come home to?
That was a thought best left unexamined. The image of her in his bedroom threatened to come to the forefront of his mind, and he pushed it away violently.
He nodded slowly. “That is as sensible a plan as any, I suppose. I shall meet you in the foyer in half an hour. That will give you plenty of time to change.”
“Wonderful.” Vivian clapped her hands together and moved toward him as though to embrace him.
Thomas moved aside and bowed low. “I will see you then.”
He left the room without another word, wondering just how he was going to get through the next few weeks.
“Who would have thought that having a wife would be quite this much trouble?”