by Matilda Hart
Her blue eyes were shining as she told the tale, and Vivian was struck by how the woman even had a touch of humor in her voice. Her intelligence instructed her that she was not to blame, but that she had indeed stumbled upon bad fortune that she hoped to remedy with time.
“Of my skills and studiousness, I am confident.” She went on to say. “If I can find employment in a new town where I can start again, then I know that I’ll be able to get back on my feet.” Vivian felt confident in the same. The determination and strength of this girl would surely overcome her hardship.
The conversation went on much longer than either of them planned it to, and Vivian became aware that the sun was soon to be setting outside. The subjects that they touched delighted the Duke, first telling of each other’s upbringing, then moving on to a discussion of art and poetry, both of which were subjects that the girl loved to teach, and which Vivian always wanted to know more about. Having been a military man for so much time, there were so many things about the finer elements of life that he wished to explore.
What surprised Vivian the most was that it wasn’t a broken heart at the loss of a lover that endured from her recent situation, but rather the loss of the two young children who were put in her charge, whom she became so close to and fond of. A gentle tear came to her eye as she spoke of them, and the Duke was entranced by her tenderness and affection.
“I thank you so much for your kindness, sir. I’m afraid that I must attend to an interview at a nearby home, if you’ll excuse me.” Their conversation had come to a close, and it seemed too soon. He didn’t want to see her go, but he himself had matters to attend to.
“I’m terribly embarrassed that I never inquired after your name.” Vivian said as the girl stood and placed her shawl on her shoulders. He was so captivated in conversation with her that he never thought to ask; something that was out of character for the Duke.
“Odette.” She gave a small curtsy. “Odette McClain. And yours, sir?”
“Vivian Gadsby Flint.” The Duke said, raising to his feet. Not for a second did he consider adding ‘Duke’ to his name.
“It has been a pleasure, Mr. Flint.”
“Please, I entreat you to call me Vivian.” He added.
“Alright. Vivian. May our paths cross again.” And with that, she exited the Inn.
“Indeed.” Vivian said under his breath, seating himself again at the table so as to watch her leave, crossing the street with a light gait.
The feelings in that moment were intense for the Duke. Never had he had a sensation quite like it. There was interest, longing, warmth, and what almost seemed like a kind of gravitational pull that intended to pull him towards her. This heady mixture of feelings was confusing to him, considering that he was now going to be on his way to meet the woman that might one day be his wife; a woman of considerable wealth, the scale of which his mother had made him swear that he would tie himself to. But could she possibly have the mind or heart of Odette…….
Chapter Three
Pulling up to the Scott estate in his carriage, the Duke felt some trepidation, but he also hope. He certainly wanted to make a match that would have pleased his late mother, but he also wanted the girl to be to his liking. He wished for someone that he could pass the time with, partake in engrossing conversation, and of course, enjoy the pleasures of the bed chamber. Asking for so much from one woman may seem like a lot, but for Vivian these were the essentials.
The grounds of the estate were perfectly extraordinary. On the front lawn there presided a perfectly manicured pond with spouting water foundation, rich sculptures throughout the maze-like pathways, and plenty of fresh and pampered flowers in rich blues, purples, and pinks. The colors, the warmth in the air, and the gentle setting of the sun gave a picturesque effect that Vivian found encouraging. He himself wished to have a home this well-kept and tended to, and he hoped that the woman who would be his wife would help him to create such a scene; the stage on which their happiness could play out.
Before opening the door to his carriage, he saw that the Scott family was perfectly assembled on the marble steps that led to the dazzling front entrance of the manse. They were an orderly group, seemingly standing in relevance to their size. The father, Percival Scott, led the pack, his wife Deirdre at his side, then the succession of four children. Vivian’s eyes quickly scanned the group to locate Millicent, and he guessed her to be the second child in the line. Her stature was pleasing enough - fine posture and delicate pink dress with an explosion of ruffles around the collar and sleeves. Her hair was done up in a storm of curly cues and bows. Quite ostentatious at first sight, but Vivian was not going to pass judgement. No doubt her mother had dressed her for the occasion.
“I do say, fine sir, it has been some time since our paths last crossed. Was it not the King’s military banquet?” Percival asked, walking towards Vivian’s coach.
“I do believe so, Scott.” Vivian always referred to Percival by his surname; an act of respect but also familiarity. The two men shook hands, and Vivian noticed that Percival had grown a bit more stout since their last encounter.
“Well, come and meet the family, then.” He ushered the Duke towards his family, standing straight as arrows and at attention. “Of course, you remember my lovely wife, Deirdre.”
“Always enchanted.” The Duke replied and gave a slight bow.
“My eldest, Henry.” The son was quite serious in his demeanor and gave a formal bow that seemed a bit too deep to be sincere.
“Lovely to meet you, Master Henry.” Vivian returned his bow, quite amused by the greeting.
“Of course, this is our Millicent. I do believe that this is your first encounter.” Scott had a twinkle in his eye, and was no doubt scanning to see what Vivian’s reaction might be to his eldest girl. There was something smacking of a salesman in his voice, which the Duke did not care for.
“Quite an honor.” The girl replied with a voice that was shockingly high in pitch. And, was there a slight lisp? Vivian asked himself. She proceeded to curtsy with such flourish that at first the Duke thought that she might be making some sort of joke. The twirling of her hands, the deep bow of her head, the positioning of her feet, all of it was something like a ballet move, and the position was held for quite some time. Vivian wondered if he should say something to release her from the position that didn’t look entirely comfortable. Finally he spoke.
“Most charming, thank you.” Signaling that it was alright for her to be released from her pose. She gave him a questioning look, and Vivian decided the best thing to do was to move on to the next child.
“And here are the twins, Agnes and Byron.” The twins were dressed in matching colors, albeit one fashioned for a girl and the other for a boy. They looked to be mischievous children, and were the only of the bunch that gave no formal address or bow.
“Quite lovely, your family, sir.” The Duke said in hopes of moving beyond the formal introductions and tending to the business at hand.
“We are an island unto ourselves out here in this rich countryside. I’m afraid the children don’t get enough contact with society, but we hope to remedy that.” Scott pushed a suggestive elbow into Vivian’s side, insinuating God knows what. “Why don’t we go straight to supper. I do hope that you have a taste for a good Sunday roast.”
“But of course.” Vivian replied. In troth, he had very little appetite after this afternoon’s tea, but he would do his best. What really troubled him was that from the moment he had stepped back into his carriage up until now, all he could think of was Odette. Her shining white teeth, the laughter in her voice, and the way her brow knitted when she was thinking of the right thing to say; it was all so immensely captivating to him that he couldn’t help but replay the whole scene in his mind.
“I do hope you’ll enjoy my homemade clotted cream.” Millicent said, shocking him out of his revery. She wrapped her arm around his in a gesture that Vivian found a bit too forward for one he didn’t know. “It’s simply divi
ne when you smother it all over fresh Welsh cakes, do you not agree?” She stared at him with enormous bug eyes, awaiting his reply.
“Yes, but of course.” Vivian did not know what else to say. They began to walk into the house arm in arm.
“I would like to personally be in charge of putting the appropriate amount of cream on your cake.” She gave a grin that showed off her very small teeth. Although quite straight, they were of unusual size and Vivian was concerned by it.
At the dinner table, it became apparent quite quickly that this was the kind of family that Vivian’s mother would have wanted him to align the family name to. The opulence was quite grandiose, and perhaps, more than was necessary. Servants scurried about, filling plates and wine glasses, there was an enormous bowl of glittering fruit at the center of the table, large candelabras ablaze, and all presented at a table that was large enough for three Scott families. Vivian was positioned next to Millicent at the table, whom he could feel staring at him from time to time, which made him feel the need to loosen his collar or he might suffocate.
“Do you like horses, sir? I simply adore them. All kinds of horses.” Millicent said by way of conversation. Vivian could now feel the eyes of her parents awaiting his reply keenly.
“Well, yes. I suppose that I do like horses.”
“That’s just grand. I collect them, you know. That is, miniature horses. Figurines. I have them all throughout my chamber. I must show you after supper.” Millicent said with great pride.
“That would be most fine.” Vivian replied. Henry seemed to be paying attention to none of this, focusing on his roast and red wine. The twins on the other hand were something else entirely. They appeared to be peering at the whole scene with something close to disdain. Their gaze was almost alarming.
“Well then. After supper I propose that you and I tend to gentlemanly matters in my salon. You enjoy a good cigar, Vivian?” Mr. Scott asked.
“Most certainly.” Vivian replied. He was in no way looking forward to that conversation, but it must be done, and he would need to make a decision soon. Then the thought came to him again of her shining eyes, her cascading hair. Odette….
“Time for the Welsh cakes, mummy!” Millicent wailed. She abruptly exited the room and came back carrying a tray by herself, and placed it on the table with great gusto. “I ceased to let the servants make this dessert years ago.” She boasted. “Sometimes the finer things in life can’t be trusted with those who—“ She leaned into Vivian’s ear for better effect. “—are so lacking in refinement.” Of course here she was referring to the servants.
Millicent plopped a large steaming cake onto his dish, and then made another trip to retrieve the aforementioned clotted cream. The cream appeared to be unusually thick, almost like paste. Grinning from ear to ear, she dumped a large dollop onto Vivian’s cake, and buttoned it with what appeared to be a wink.
“Eat up now.” Deirdre said from across the table. She scarce spoke during the course of the meal, and Vivian could assume that she rarely spoke when her husband was holding court.
Vivian looked at the dessert with slight concern, as his appetite had left him and the oddly deformed cake was completely submerged in the gluey cream. Knowing that all eyes were on him, he managed to place a forkful in his mouth. It did, indeed, had a flavor that was similar to its appearance.
“I can tell you like it.” Millicent said. “I can always tell. There are many things that I cook, you know. I could cook all day long!” This sent a shudder of coldness down Vivian’s spine.
Once the meal had concluded, Vivian felt immense relief. Was it merely the pressure of the situation that led to his discomfort? Certainly, the girl wasn’t all that bad, and Vivian had to admit that she was pretty in some ways. Her tightly curled brown hair and green eyes were fetching, but it was hard to take her in when she made such effort to be in his face.
“I can tell you’re impressed, my boy. Millicent is quite popular in society. Her coming out was quite the success.” Mr. Scott said over cigars. The family had retreated to the living room, whilst Vivian and Scott sat in the study, the air filled with smoke, and the sound of the crackling fire nearby.
“Brandy?” Mr. Scott offered, and proceeded to pour before Vivian could reply. “Now son, lets get to more pressing matters. I can tell that you fancy her, and she comes with an ample dowery, one of the best that you’re going to find in the country.” Mr. Scott drank his brand voraciously and chewed on his cigar.
“She’s most charming.” The Duke replied, trying to think of more to say that might please the father and inspire confidence in him.
“Why don’t we make the arrangements, my boy? We can hold a ball, announce the great news to all of society. I doubt not that the King himself would like to attend.” Mr. Scott said confidently.
And here Vivian was put in a position that he could not bear. Of course this girl was the perfect match for him, and in fact, he could count himself quite fortunate for being paired with a girl who was quite above his station. He would be ‘marrying-up’ as it were, and his mother would have jumped for joy, and considered it to be one of Vivian’s greatest accomplishments. How he would have loved to hear the delight in her voice upon hearing the news. But the Duke was frozen. He could not stop thinking of Odette the entire night. Would he ever see the girl again?
Then something quite extraordinary transpired. He could hear a voice in the other room that sounded familiar, lovely, like a song. Who could that be? It was surely not someone from the Scott family. Had someone payed a visit?
“What is it, man?” Mr. Scott asked, seeing that Vivian’s attention was elsewhere.
“Oh, my apologies. I just heard a familiar voice in the other room. Pardon my wayward attention.” Vivian replied, trying to focus again on the task at hand.
“Ah yes, a little interview is transpiring. My wife is in search of a new governess for the twins. Lady from Hertfordshire has paid a call.
Vivian was stopped dead in his tracks. Could it be? Was Odette in the other room? He thought that he might die from a need to see her again, to stare into her eyes and listen to her pensive thoughts.
“You don’t say?” Vivian replied. He was desperate to go into the other room to see the apparition in blue.
“So what about the ball, chap?” Mr. Scott added, trying to get the conversation back on target.
Vivian couldn’t think. His mind was whirling. “Yes, right. Certainly.” He said, arising from his seat, lost in distraction. “I think I could use another slice of that delicious Welsh cake. Please excuse me.” He said.
Mr. Scott looked confused at first, but then his expression softened. “Of course. No one can resist Millicent’s cooking.”
Vivian made haste to the door. He opened it cautiously, afraid lest the disappointment of not seeing her there would strain his already pounding heart.
Then the apparition appeared. Seated with an erect, graceful posture, Odette slowly turned and locked eyes with Vivian. His heart nearly leapt from his chest and a heat came over his body that perhaps could only be matched by that being omitted from the fireplace. And there, the small gentle curve of a smile appeared on her lips, like the slim crescent of the moon, softly illuminating the night sky.
Chapter Four
Vivian knew that he had to leave the Scotts at a decent hour in order to make the long journey back to Calliope Ridge, however his hosts insisted that he should stay the night. The thought was exhilarating and also tiresome to him. He was not sure he’d be able to endure a whole night with his hosts, but at the same time, perhaps they would persuade Odette to stay as well. Surely she couldn’t walk back to her village in the middle of the night, and he suspected that the Scotts would be charitable in regards to this.
“You’re going to love the Palomar suite, my boy. Looks right out over the lagoon.” Mr. Scott boasted. “Even in the night you’re going to be able to see the white swans there, coasting along with tremendous grace.”
“And paddl
ing their little hearts out below the surface.” Odette said. “Pardon me, I don’t mean to intrude, I was just showing myself out.” She said as she wrapped her blue shawl around her pretty shoulders.
“Certainly you can’t be walking home at this time of night. Your village is some many kilometers off.” Vivian said with grave concern, looking to Mr. Scott in hopes that he would get the hint.
“Nay, nay, I’ll not have it.” Mr. Scott said. “We’ll put you up in the servant’s quarters. We have a spare room there. How will that suit you, Miss?” Clearly the man believed that putting her up in the servant’s quarters was beyond generous, because he rubbed his robust belly with self-satisfaction.
“That would be lovely, thank you.” Odette replied, looking over to Vivian. When their eyes met he could see that Odette took in a quick inhalation of breath, and then darted her eyes to the floor. Could the girl possibly be feeling that same thing that he was? The notion of it seemed too good to be true.
