Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
“Iwish I could have seen it! I heard that he still had the mark on his face when he joined Lady Eldonbury for tea.” Cecily shook her head, smiling as she sipped on her tea. “Apparently she bade him come back when he was more presentable for polite company.”
Vivian, Andrea, and Charlotte all laughed. They were sitting in the drawing room of Elington manor. The other women had decided to call on he once they had seen the news of her altercation with Lord Brixten in the papers, and Vivian had wasted no time in telling them what had happened.
“It must have been quite the slap to cause the mark to last for so long.” Andrea gave Vivian an admiring look. “Clearly you are stronger than you look.”
“My hand stung for hours.” Vivian admitted shaking it out. “But it was worth it.”
“Speaking of strength, how are you getting on with your hobbies. Andrea mentioned that she convinced you to try archery?” Charlotte canted her head towards Vivian.
“I did…” Vivian trailed off trying to think of a polite way to explain her feelings. It is so nice to have friends, and I do not want to offend them.
“If you did not enjoy it, I will not be upset.” Andrea reached over and squeezed her hand. “We are not trying to turn you into us, Vivian. This is about helping you to connect to who you are.”
Vivian felt a lump in her throat, and nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
“We all have different things that bring us joy and purpose.” Charlotte added. “Andrea has always valued her independence and has several business ventures.”
“How? You are a woman and you are married!” Vivian’s eyes widened.
Andrea gave her a sly look. “I may have a few male aliases. Besides, even if I did not, Frederick and I are equal partners in everything.”
“Perhaps you could work more with Thomas?” Charlotte suggested as she sipped on her tea.
Vivian’s heart squeezed and she forced herself not to look towards the hallway. “We are doing more together but… Well, we will part ways and I need something that is mine. I want to prove that I can do something for myself.”
She tried to ignore the stab of sadness at the thought of how close she was to the end of her honeymoon. If he wanted it to be different, he would ask. She could not rely on him, she needed something for her, that would sustain her even if he did not ask her to stay. If?
“You need not prove any such thing to anyone, Vivian.” Cecily canted her head towards her.
“It is for me.” Vivian explained, her cheeks coloring. “I feel like I have spent so long living for other people, I want to understand what living for me looks like.”
Charlotte tapped a finger against her lips. “I suppose the question is, when did you last feel like what you were doing was truly for you? When did you feel like what you were doing mattered?”
“When I slapped Lord Brixten.” Vivian said without thinking, remembering the righteous anger that had welled within her.
They all laughed and Cecily said, “Unfortunately, I do not think you can make slapping uncouth wretches your hobby. Your hand would fall off.”
“Though it is an amusing thought to imagine Vivian running around striking fear into the heart of the ton’s dishonorable and disreputable men.” Cecily giggled.
“But also dangerous. Lord Brixten is a coward, but not all men are as weak as he is. I suspect Thomas would not be keen to support anything that put her in danger.” Charlotte pointed out.
“And I do not want the focus of my life to be men and their behavior.” Vivian added, surprising herself with the truth of the statement.
“All of my life was preparing for a husband, everything we are taught centers on men. Our world is built for them, not for us. Let the world focus their efforts there, I will not focus mine.”
“Here! Here!” Cecily cheered, raising her teacup as though it were a flute of champagne.
“Though I will admit, men do have their uses. It gets rather frustrating not being able to make any headway in this world as a single woman. I am tired of married women acting like I might steal their husbands from them. I have no wish to share, I want one of my own, and failing that I would like my independence.”
Cecily’s words sparked something inside Vivian. “So many of us live our lives at the mercy of men. Get a husband, or you will have no future.”
“Perhaps one day that will change. But until it does, what can we do?” Charlotte shrugged.
“It is a pity that not everyone is as lucky as us when it comes to finding a good husband, or even Andrea – you had more opportunities than most thanks to the money Agatha bequeathed to you after her inheritance gains.”
Vivian nodded, feeling as though gears in her mind were starting to turn. It was like watching someone trying to start a fire, there was something there but what? What can I do against society? I am just one person.
The grandfather clock chimed on the hour, and the thought vanished. Charlotte clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh goodness! Is that the time? We will be late for the gallery opening.”
“Are you sure you do not want to come, Vivian?” Andrea asked as the women stood and moved towards the front door.
Vivian shook her head. “I do not want to be in public right now, I feel like everyone will be scrutinizing me and I have no time nor patience for it.”
“Very well.” Andrea hugged Vivian. “It was lovely seeing you.”
“And you.” Vivian hugged her back. “I am sure we will see each other again soon.”
“And we will figure out your purpose, I promise.” Cecily smiled at her. “I am glad you have come into our lives. It is always nice to have new friends.”
“I am too.” Vivian beamed at her. “Thank you.”
Her friends departed, and Vivian felt a glow settle over her chest. She might not know what she wanted, but she had friends for the first time in her life. It feels almost ungrateful to feel like there is still something missing.
It was not that her friends were not important, but they each had their own passions, dreams and desires. Andrea and Charlotte both had children of their own, and that clearly gave each of them joy. That is not a path for me. The thought sent a prickle through her.
She put it from her mind and was just trying to decide what to do when she heard a knock at the front door. She wondered if the others had forgotten something and opened it, smiling.
“Have you no decency?” Her mother hissed, striding into Vivian’s house before she could say another word.
Her butler gave Vivian a look, and she waved him down. She sensed him bristle, but knew he would obey the silent command. Her mother, however, seemed unaware of the exchange and continued into the house and toward the drawing room.
Vivian followed her, reminding herself to stand tall even as her mother chuntered continuously under her breath. Vivian only caught every other word.
“A pleasure to see you, Mother. Would you like some tea?” Vivian kept her voice placid as she beckoned Mrs. Bird over. “I can have some refreshments sent up.”
“I think that is the least you can do after the way you have disgraced me.” Her mother sniffed and flopped onto the sofa, crossing her hands in her lap. “Do you have any idea what you have put me through?”
“No,” Vivian replied without thinking.
She knew it was the wrong thing to say when her mother shot her a dirty look, sighing as though Vivian had dealt her a grievous blow. I have had far too little sleep to manage this.
After all, she and Thomas had spent most of the night before talking to one another.
“You may be a marchioness, Vivian, but you are still my daughter, and you will show me the respect I deserve.” Her mother dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.
“I was not trying to be disrespectful, only truthful.” Vivian sat across from her mother. “I have no idea why you are here.”
Her mother waved her handkerchief at her, scowling.
“Do not play dumb with me. The whole ton is talking about your little breakdown in the street. Honestly, Vivian, why on Earth did you need to pick a fight with the Viscount? You are married, and so is he. Where has this sudden bitterness come from?”
“What? Is that what the scandal sheets are saying?” Vivian clenched her fists.
Of course, they would paint me as the villain. Well, I will see that this story is set straight.
“I have no idea what the papers say, only what the man told me.” Her mother sniffed noisily and put a hand on her chest. “He had a handprint on his face—a handprint! You slapped him so hard that he might lose a tooth.”
“Good, he deserves it.” Vivian shifted in her seat, flexing her fingers.
“Must you be so petty? The man has made mistakes, but no one deserves this. You are both married after all, so what need is there to bring up old grudges? Much less resort to physical violence. It is so uncouth.” Her mother shuddered.
Uncouth. That is her problem with this; it is uncouth. Vivian gaped at her, a wild urge to laugh tearing through her body.
“How could you believe that? I have no grudge against him; in fact, with every passing day, I am more grateful that he broke off our engagement. It has spared me a lifetime of pain and misery.”
“And yet you decided to accost him on the street?” Her mother crossed her ankles and gave Vivian a pitying look.
“He came to my house.” Vivian gritted her teeth.
“And why would he do that?” Her mother arched an eyebrow at her as though humoring a child telling a particularly tall tale.
“To ask me to run away with him. To be his mistress or something of that sort. Apparently, he is convinced that we belong together.” Vivian rolled her eyes, the memory like a foul taste in her mouth.
Her mother shook her head. “That is a horrid lie.”
“It is the truth.”
“It is not. It cannot be. He has a beautiful wife of his own whom he loves dearly.” Her mother’s eyes drifted across Vivian, and she heard the hidden meaning in her words.
You are not as pretty as she is.