Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
“It really is not that bad.” Vivian tried to keep the smile from her face as Thomas glared at her.
She had thrown several logs onto the roaring fire, stoking it so high that she had felt beads of sweat trickle down her neck. Thomas was wrapped in a blanket, with a handkerchief beside him and a very red nose.
It had been several days since Thomas had rescued her from the lake, and as she had predicted, the stubborn fool had come down with a cold.
The herbal remedy that the dowager—no, Agatha—had recommended lay on the table in front of them.
Vivian was fairly certain that the liquid was mostly garlic from the smell of it, but the Dowager Duchess swore by the stuff.
And from what Vivian had read, she could see why its ingredients would help him.
“You drink it then.” Thomas gestured to the vial and crossed his arms over his chest.
Vivian could not help laughing. “I had not realized that being sick would turn you into a petulant child.”
“I am not being petulant.” She saw him fight to keep his mouth from quirking upwards. “I just do not want to drink Grandmama’s vile concoction. It is awful.”
Vivian arched an eyebrow at him and perched beside him, picking up the vial in her hand. “All you have to do is put it in your mouth and swallow. It will be over before you know it.”
“I am already feeling better. I could run a mile.” Thomas’s effort to flex his muscles was undermined by his cough.
“And if that is true, then I am Aphrodite brought to life.” Vivian’s every word dripped with sarcasm as she tugged the blanket more closely around him.
“You are certainly beautiful enough to be.” His voice was soft, more earnest than teasing.
Her fingers brushed against his thin shirt, and she felt warmth spread through her. It felt like millions of butterflies had burst to life in her stomach. She forced herself not to leave her hand there.
The memory of the way he had held her after the lake seemed to linger between them. His blue eyes searched hers, but he made no move to hold her to him.
She could feel the warmth of his thighs through the blanket and tried not to think of how the fabric had clung to him. She took a steadying breath and shook the vial in front of him.
“You are not going to flirt your way out of your medicine, Thomas.” She tried to fix him with a serious look, but it was hard when he looked simultaneously so handsome and so sorry for himself.
It is not fair; no one should be sick and still look as good as he does. I would look like a snot monster.
His smile broadened, making her heart flutter. “But flirting is good for one’s health.”
“Somehow I suspect that it is less effective than the herbal remedy.” Vivian rolled her eyes at him, even as she felt her cheeks redden.
He leaned forward, resting a hand on her thigh. “We could always put it to the test. A little science experiment. My medicine today could be a little flirting, and then I would not have to drink that.”
“Or we could do both. Double the efficacy.” Vivian pressed the vial into his hands.
“But I do not need it. I am perfectly healthy. In fact, I was thinking that we should pay a visit to Mosley’s and get you a proper engagement ring.” He gestured to her hand, an unreadable expression flitting across his face. “I do not want you to keep worrying about your future.”
Vivian ran her fingers over the engagement ring he had already bought her. “I am not worried about anything except you right now.”
“But I am fit as a flea.” He sneezed.
“A sick flea.” Vivian laughed. “I am not about to cart you out of bed to go jewelry shopping. Especially not if you are going to sneeze all over everything. We have plenty of time to get a ring sorted, anyway. What is the rush?”
“I suppose there is no rush. I do not want you thinking I have forgotten my promise.” Thomas’s tone had an edge to it that she could not quite place.
I am probably imagining things, that is all. She had enjoyed feeling close to him, and she was letting it run away with her.
“I do not think that.” She almost reached to touch his face with her hand, but caught herself, instead curling her fingers into a fist and holding it to her chest. “I know you are a man of honor. Now, drink your medicine.”
“You almost sound like a real wife.” He teased.
“I am.” She shot back even as her cheeks flushed. “At least, legally speaking. Now drink it.”
Thomas raised it to his lips and then shook his head. “No, I cannot do it. I will be sick.”
“Do not be such a baby. You drank it fine yesterday, and the day before that.” Vivian folded her arms across her chest.
“Yesterday, I could not smell. Today I can. Which means I am probably well enough not to need it.” Thomas brightened.
Vivian let out a sigh. “If that were the case, you would not have shivered all through breakfast.”
“I was not shivering.”
“Thomas, you definitely were.” She rested a hand against his forehead. “Though your fever has come down.”
“You see? I do not need to drink the vile stuff.” He tried to hand back the medicine, but she would not take it.
“How about this? If you take your medicine and your fever does not come back in the next hour, we can go shopping for a ring?” Vivian tried to make her voice bright and eager, but it stuck in her chest.
It is only sensible to plan for the future; after all, that is what you both want.
“But it is impossible.” Thomas shook his head. “No one with a sense of smell could drink this.”
“Oh, really?” Vivian took the bottle from him and drank it in one gulp, locking eyes with him as she did.
His jaw dropped, and she felt a swell of pride that almost hid how foul the medicine was.
I am going to smell of garlic for hours. She fished another bottle from her pocket and handed it to him.
He drank it wordlessly, grimacing as he did. “You will let me take you ring shopping then?”
“If you have no fever in an hour, yes.” Vivian nodded and poured out two cups of tea.
She handed one to Thomas and drank her own, grateful that the strong taste overwhelmed the taste of garlic. An hour later, Thomas looked brighter and had no fever, and the two of them set off to the jewelers.
A bell rang as Thomas opened the door for her and ushered Vivian into the shop. They were greeted by a kind-faced old man who beamed as soon as he saw Thomas.
“Mr. Mosely, it is good to see you.” Thomas smiled at the man, who gestured to Vivian. “Allow me to introduce my wife, Lady Vivian Heatcliff, Marchioness of Elington.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mosely. The family speaks most highly of your talents.”
“The pleasure is all mine, my dear.” His eyes drifted to the ring on her finger. “That is one of Mr. Jenkins’ creations, is it not?”
“The man makes decent jewelry that will do in a pinch. Given the speed of our union, I wanted her at least to have some sign of my commitment to her, but the plan was always to come to you for the proper ring.” Thomas smiled his most charming smile at the jeweler.
“Though I am immensely grateful that you were able to make our wedding bands so quickly. I wanted my wife to be able to have the final say on her engagement ring.”
“Of course.” Mr. Mosely looked slightly mollified, and Vivian slipped the ring from her finger. “I am sure we will find you something befitting of your station, my lady.”
“Thank you, Mr. Mosely.” Vivian glanced from the jeweler to Thomas, scrutinizing her husband for any sign that he might feel unwell.
Thomas smiled back at her, gesturing to the cases of jewelry. “Look at those, not me. I assure you, they are far more interesting.”
Vivian shook her head and smiled, but did as she was told. The shop was full of the most beautiful jewelry she had ever seen. Rings with such fine gold work that it was difficult to believe a mortal man made them.
There were necklaces, earrings, and pendants. All of it was more beautiful than she had ever dreamed of. She walked slowly around the shop, her heart beating faster and faster as she saw the price of some of the items.
That is more money than most people live on in a year.
She turned from the case but felt Thomas put a hand on the small of her back. She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “Choose what you want, Vivian. Price is no object.”
“But—” she began, but he cut her off, putting a finger softly on her lips.
“There are no buts. You told me you wanted to discover what you want, so start here. Let your heart choose, not your mind. This ring is for you. It is my promise for your future.”
Vivian looked up into his blue eyes. They were like a calm blue ocean. He smiled at her and then gestured back to the jewelry case. She swallowed and looked at the pieces.
She moved through the shop with deliberate slowness, wanting to really take everything in. It is my future. She felt a lump in her throat, but ignored it.
Her eyes caught on a flash of something in the corner. It was a small ring with a beautiful sapphire at its center. It was surrounded by smaller stones that sparkled in the light. The blue of the sapphire reminded her of Thomas, and she found herself reaching toward the ring.
“The lady has an excellent eye.” Mr. Mosely handed it to her. “This is one of my finest pieces.”
She slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit her perfectly, as though it had been made for her hand and her hand alone. The longer she looked at it, the more it felt like the ring was a part of her.
Then she saw the price, and her stomach sank. She opened her mouth to say she did not like it and would look for something else, but she could not get the words out.
“It is beautiful.” Thomas’s voice was hoarse, and when Vivian looked at him, their eyes met. “Do you like it?”
She could not lie to him. “I do.”
“It is part of a set.” Mr. Mosely gestured to the necklace, earrings, bracelet, and tiara that shared the case.
“I think just the ring will be fine.” Vivian could not look away from it.
“Nonsense.” Thomas shook his head. “We shall take the set.”
“But it is too much. Thomas, really, the ring alone could feed an entire family for a year.” Her eyes widened as she shook her head. “This is more than I deserve, and you have been far too generous already.”
Thomas’s eyes darkened, and he closed the distance between them, tilting her chin so that she looked into his eyes. “You are my wife, and it is high time you let me spoil you the way you deserve.”
The smell of amber washed over her, but she could not surrender to it. “It is too much.”
“No.” His eyes bored into hers, drowning her in their intensity. “You are my marchioness, and while I am at your side, you will want for nothing.”
And then he was at the counter, paying for everything, and she was still trying to make the world stop spinning. The jewelry would mean freedom; it would mean safety.
But why does it feel like something is missing?
Her eyes drifted to Thomas.