Chapter 19 #2
“He thinks she is ugly now that she is with child.” Vivian folded her arms across her chest. “He kept prattling on about it, so I slapped him.”
She smiled at the memory.
“And did you not stop to think what effect this might have on your father? On me? On our lives?” Her mother glared at her. “Of course not; you think only of yourself, as you always have done.”
“And why would I think of you when you have never once thought of me? You promised me to a man who is a spineless coward. He tried to abandon his pregnant wife simply because he was tired of the responsibility.” Vivian was on her feet, her voice echoing around the room.
Blood pounded in her ears, her rage even more potent than when she had slapped the Viscount. Her mother gasped, face reddening as she stood.
“How dare you say we have not thought of you? Have we not clothed you? Did we not ensure you were fed? That you had a roof over your head? What is it that you think we have denied you?” Her mother shook her head.
“Love, kindness.” Vivian thought of the way the Dowager Duchess had brushed her hair, the way Charlotte and Andrea had helped her find the perfect wedding dress.
The way Thomas had welcomed her ideas, her thoughts.
“All my life, you have treated me like an inconvenience. I have tied myself in knots trying to be the daughter you want, and nothing I have ever done has been good enough.”
“Goodness, Vivian, must you be so dramatic? You make it seem like we were villains in a fairy tale.” She rolled her eyes. “You are not the center of the universe, you know. Your father and I do not exist to dote on your every whim.”
“I do not expect to be the center of your universe, but I wanted to at least be a part of it!” Vivian shouted, anger getting the better of her.
“What are you talking about? We arranged a match for you the moment you were born. Not once have you had to worry about finding a suitable husband.” Her mother gestured around them.
“Except when that suitable husband left me for another woman,” Vivian retorted. “Is it really so difficult to believe that he is the kind of man who would shirk his duties as soon as he could? That he would pursue me? That perhaps he deserved the slaps he got?”
“Why would he, Vivian? It makes no sense.” Her mother’s words hit Vivian like a slap to the face. “Be reasonable; who would choose you?”
The words rang in her head, and Vivian shook. Her mother put a hand on her arm, mistaking her silence for compliance, for submission.
“You will apologize to the Viscount for your behavior and then we can put this unpleasantness behind us once and for all.” Her mother looked at her.
“I will do no such thing. The man tried to convince me to be his mistress, but even if he had not done that, it would not change the fact that he threw me over as soon as he could.” Vivian shook her head, wrenching free of her mother’s grasp.
“He discarded me like I was little more than cheap perfume, threw away his agreement with you, dishonored your friendship, and yet still, you defend him at my expense.”
“Let us not be hyperbolic. It is so common. I simply wish for you to apologize to him, as a proper lady should.”
“No.” Vivian rolled her shoulders back. “I will not apologize to him. Nor will I apologize to you for my conduct.”
“It is the least you can do after everything your father and I have done for you.” Her mother folded her arms across her chest, tapping a foot on the floor.
“You did the bare minimum. All children should be given food and shelter by their parents. That is hardly something for me to be grateful for!” Vivian cried out, her voice cracking with emotion.
“You never cared about me; you still do not care about me. If you had, you would never have promised me to a snake like Lord Brixten.” Vivian gestured to the door.
“I think it is high time you left, Mother.”
“Not until you apologize.”
“I believe my wife asked you to leave.” Thomas’s voice was so icy that it made a mid-winter frost seem warm. “I would not wish to see her ask you again.”
Vivian turned to see Thomas standing in the doorway. Every muscle in his body was tense; fury rolled off him in waves as he took one slow step toward them.
“My lord, with respect, this is a conversation between a mother and her daughter. It is a family matter and—” Her mother began, her tone honeyed, but Thomas cut her off.
“You gave up the right to call yourself her family when you promised her to that weasel.”
“Now, you can either leave the house of your own volition, or I will have the footmen escort you out. It is your choice; it matters little to me.” He shrugged and flashed a smile that was all calculated violence.
Her mother bristled, looked at Vivian, then Thomas, and left the room without another word. Vivian stared after her, still shaking. In another moment, Thomas had crossed the room and pulled her close to him.
She buried her face in his chest, breathing in his familiar amber scent.
“I have you. You are safe. It is all right.” Thomas cradled her head in his arms.
Vivian looked up at him and let out a long, shaky breath. “I know. But I am not upset. Well, I am, but… Not as much as I thought.”
“That is good. That woman is not worth your tears.” Thomas glared after her mother. “You are shaking. Come, let us sit down.”
“No, really, I am all right. I promise.” She looked up at him. “In a strange way, I am actually glad she came. It has given me clarity.”
Thomas’s brow furrowed, and he shifted, loosening his arms around her. “What do you mean?”
“All my life, she has made me feel small and ugly and powerless. Like I had no other options, and she was not wrong. If it were not for you, I am not sure what I would have done. I do not want any other woman ever to experience that. Not if I can help it.” Vivian slipped out of his arms, her mind racing.
She pictured her life. The way she had been swept along in someone else’s plan. How lost she had felt. I am not the only one. How many other girls have had this happen to them? How many have mothers like her? Or no mother at all?
Thomas tilted his head toward her. “What do you want to do?”
“I think I know what I want to do. I am going to set up boarding schools for girls so that they might be properly educated and go on to become governesses or perhaps even apprentices and learn a type of trade.” Vivian shifted out of Thomas’s eyes, picturing them in her mind.
“They will be warm and spacious. A safe place for the girls to come to. Somewhere that will make them feel valued and seen.”
She turned to find Thomas looking at her, with a small smile on his face. It was as though he had never seen anything quite like her, and it made her heart swell. “What do you need?”
She took a deep breath. “I think it is high time I threw my first ball as marchioness. We could do it next Saturday.”
It was the day before she was due to leave. And her blood ran cold at the thought. Her eyes searched Thomas’s face, wanting to see some sign that he understood.
He smiled at her and nodded. “I think that is a perfect time to do it. It will be the perfect way to start the next chapter.”
Who would choose you?
Her mother’s words echoed in her mind, but she pushed them away. She wanted to ask him if things had changed between them, to see if he felt the way she did. But even as she opened her mouth, the words stuck in her throat.
“I suppose I should get to planning then.” It was all she could say.
There was a beat of silence, his blue eyes locked onto hers. For a wild, desperate moment, she thought he was going to ask her to stay.
“I have some work to do, but if you need me, I will be in the study.” He walked to the door, stopped, and then looked at her once more. “For what it is worth, I am proud of you. And I cannot wait to see what you do.”
He left, leaving only the smell of amber and the vaguest kernel of hope.