by Matilda Hart
“Well, I’ll say goodnight then, and Deirdre can lead you to your chambers.” Mr. Scott added, making his way to his room. “Oh, and my good boy, I know it seems a trifle soon, but Deirdre would like to make arrangements for the ball in a fortnight. Would that suit you, son?”
This was altogether too soon, and Vivian could feel his stomach jumping up into his throat. In a daze, hoping to steal away for a moment alone with Odette, Vivian hastily shook his head in acknowledgment, well aware that he was going to have to do something about all this, and quickly.
Both he and Odette were led to their rooms, and Vivian was none too pleased with her whereabouts below the house, while his suite was well up on the fourth floor. How was he going to see her? It was of the utmost importance that they speak.
While trying to come up with a plan, there was a gentle knock upon the door, and Vivian’s heart leapt, and his step was stealthy to open it. There stood something that could never have been expected and surely gave him more than a shock. Millicent was before him, dressing gown slightly untied, and the garments that lay below looked like neglige. Vivian turned away in hopes of preserving her modestly, but Millicent seemed intent upon abandoning this modesty completely.
In one swift action, Millicent pushed Vivian upon the bed and sat upon him in a most suggestive way.
“I hear tell of certain actions that are required in the marriage bed.” Millicent said saucily, keeping her hips firmly secured to his. “But you can trust, I have not experienced such pleasures—“ She rolled over and abruptly pulled him on top of her. “—yet.” Vivian had no sense of what the right action was here. This was the most inappropriate of situations, and yet how difficult it was to refuse a good looking woman who was practically throwing herself at him.
“Millicent, this is not right.” Vivian managed to say. “You really must go back to your room.”
“Oh, come, come, now. You seem to be stirring and, I’m told, that indicates that a man is interested in the package that is being presented to him.” Millicent gently undid her dressing gown.
“Come now, Millicent, this is untoward. Please, I beg of you.” The look of her, and the sound of her voice, began to be cloying and annoying to him, and he pulled himself off of her and to his feet.
Millicent got up from the bed and came to him again. “Just, let me see you. More of you.” She said, gently unbuttoning his white shirt. “Let me get a view of you and then I’ll go, I promise.” Millicent said. What she saw under his shirt was immensely pleasing to her; broad, strong chest with clearly defined abdominal muscles, cut shoulders, and large forearms. Millicent almost gave a gasp.
“You have what you asked for Millicent.” Vivian said bashfully. “Now, please go.”
His shirt in her hand, Millicent walked to the door. “I do hope, sir, that this isn’t your only shirt.” Millicent teased.
“May I please have the shirt, lady?” Vivian said, reaching out his arm.
“You’ll have to catch me first….Duke!” With that Millicent ran down the hall with a giggle. Vivian couldn’t believe his bad luck. Should he be caught in this situation, it would destroy his name, and unfortunately, that was indeed the only shirt that he had. He instinctively began to run after her.
Through endless, winding corridors, Vivian rushed and whispered her name, hoping to not wake anyone in the home. The little game of hide and seek seemed altogether hopeless; the endless doors and windows would never end.
Vivian suddenly found himself in the kitchen. How the devil was he ever going to remember where his room was?
There was a corridor off to the right, and Vivian hoped that this would lead him outside where he could at least get his bearings about him. To his surprise, this door led to yet another hallway, and there, sitting upon the floor with her back to a wall, was Odette. Vivian now couldn’t believe his good fortune, but what was she doing in the hallway? Had the poor thing been locked out?
“Vivian.” She said upon seeing him, with measurable delight and surprise. “Whatever are you doing here?” He was delighted that she called him by his given name.
“I’m afraid I’ve had a bit of a….situation, with Ms. Scott. I cannot find her anywhere.” He explained, exasperated. “Have you at all seen her pass this way?” He was still wearing no shirt.
“I’m afraid I have not. All is alright I hope.” Odette said with concern.
“Yes, I’m sure it will be quite alright in the end.” Vivian said, taking in her perfect form. “But what are you doing out here?”
“The servant's quarters are quite cramped, and I fear that there might be a mouse sharing the space with me.” It was adorable. The poor thing looked practically terrified, and Vivian was glad to be of help in such a situation.
“Dreadful. I can’t quite believe that they put you down here.” He explained.
“Unfortunately, I do believe this is where I’d reside if I had the fortune of being given the job!” She said with some humor.
“Can I be of assistance?” Vivian asked.
“Oh, Mr. Flint, it would be most agreeable.” She seemed visibly relieved.
“Lets take a look and see what we have in there.” He said, realizing that he was puffing his chest in anticipation of the task at hand, and the reward of seeing the gratitude on her face.
Sure enough, the quarters were intensely close, and dank and bare. There was no chance that Odette could possibly live in an atmosphere such as this. Vivian wouldn’t have it, and if he were at all aligned with the Scott family, he would see to it.
He indeed heard the mouse, and then it appeared. Odette screamed and ran around the room, trying to escape, while Vivian chased it with a waste basket in hopes of trapping it. The situation was so ridiculous that the two began to laugh and run about, enjoying themselves immensely.
“I have it! I have it!” Vivian exclaimed with pride, putting one foot upon the overturned basket with heroic pride.
“My savior.” Odette said, with one hand over her chest.
“Now, let me just take this outside.” Upon returning to the room - the offensive rodent let back out into the world - Vivian didn’t know what was about to overtake him. Her smile, her flowing hair, her simple dress and remarkable laugh; he could not control himself any longer.
“May I give the victor a kiss on the cheek?” Odette asked, seemingly wanting to be closer to him as well.
“He would be honored.” Vivian replied.
As she came close to him, he felt his heart pounding and a stirring down below that he wished he could control, but not in Odette’s presence. Never would he be able to do that. But it was the next move that most took him by surprise. Just as her lips were about to meet his cheek, Vivian turned his face so that their mouths could align, and the kiss was as sweet and rich as buttery toffee. Vivian wished that they could remain there, motionless, for hours. But alas, he could not help but press forward, placing his hands upon her body to explore the fine curvature. He heard her give a little moan that she seemed to be trying to contain.
They each began to explore the other’s body, first with hands and then Vivian with his kisses as he gently laid her upon the bed to have full access to her. His mouth ran along her bodice, across her sides, and across her perfect décolletage.
“This is not right, Vivian. You are to be wed, I hear tell.” Odette held his face in her hands, stopping him from going further.
Taking a breath and trying with all his might to compose himself, for truly he felt undone and incapable of stopping, he gently laid his head upon her abdomen in agreement.
“What are we to do?” Vivian asked this in the hopes that perhaps she might feel some of the same powerful feelings that he was, and in that he was not incorrect.
“I don’t know. But I think the best thing for us both is to just consider this an accident. The malady of poor timing, that’s all.” Odette said, staring up at the ceiling with sadness in her voice.
“I do not wish for it to be so.” He said, bring
ing his face close to hers.
“I know.” She held his cheeks again, then stroked her hands through his hair. “But it must be. Life is funny sometimes.” With that she managed to display a smile. “Can we agree to let this evening be but a happy spot in the memory? For the sake of your marriage, and my own livelihood here with the Scott family?”
To this Vivian could not answer her. The words would be too difficult. This woman had transported him, and this evening would never be a mere spot, it would be a symphony.
“I must try to find my room.” He said, abruptly getting up, avoiding her question. Just as he reached the door, Odette implored again.
“Please, Vivian. Promise me you will let this go.” She sat up in the bed, looking more lovely from one minute to the next.
Vivian could not give her the reply that she sought after, and exited the room without answering.
*******
It was the night of the ball, and the Scott estate was positively dripping with embellishments. The chandeliers were strung with flowers and ornate tropical birds. Candelabras burned bright at every turn, and the guests were caked with jewels and brightly colored gowns. Hundreds of nobility had attended, and yes, even the King himself.
Vivian’s palms were sweating. He couldn’t bear the decision that he had to make on this night. Could he possibly go through with a wedding where he detested the very woman he was to wed? And yet, the match was perfect.
Roaming around and clutching a glass of champagne, Vivian scanned the room for Millicent. Perhaps he could talk to her in confidence and explain the situation. The anxiety was tremendous. So many people had attended, the night was a great success, and Mr. Scott was making his announcement soon. He couldn’t tear from his mind Odette’s bright eyes, the way she walked. If he could not have her in his life, he wouldn’t be able to bare it. Perhaps he could take her as a mistress? But the idea was preposterous; she deserved more.
Millicent was spotted across the room, laughing in such a high pitched manner that the whole party could hear. She wore a flouncy pink dress that was puffed with feathers and lace, as if she were some kind of exotic bird. Her hair was done in such intense ringlets that it appeared as though it were almost medusa-like. Vivian cringed.
Yet there on the other side of the room was Odette! He was delighted, and pained, by the fact that she was invited. No doubt she had been offered the position in the household. Here she was again, in robin’s egg blue, so soft and lovely, yet so plain compared to the flamboyant creatures that surrounded her; but ultimately, the brightest shining star in the room. Vivian looked from one lady to the other, and the answer seemed so clear.
“Your attention, S'il vous plait.” Perceval Scott exclaimed, chiming his glass of champagne with his butter knife. “Might I punctuate your merriment with a humble speech?” He said, looking about the hushed roomed with gaiety and pride. “To our most esteemed guests, I do welcome you with open heart.” With this, he motioned towards the King, and the room applauded and bowed. “Even our less-esteemed guests are most welcome in my home.” And with this Mr. Scott paid his respects to the servants who stood at attention; Odette being one of them. Vivian’s heart sank. A fury came over him.
“This fine event is not just for gorging ourselves upon fine food and wine.” The audience laughed at this. “But it’s also to make a formal announcement that, as a father, fills me with great pride.” Vivian froze. What the devil was he going to do?
“You are all aware of my daughter Millicent, who most successfully has made her way into society.” Polite applause from the audience. “But you’re also familiar with the distinguished war hero, Duke Vivian Flint.” With this there was a very warm reception from the audience. “I shan't belabor the speech, but I proclaim here to you today—-“
Vivian jumped in. “That I will host Millicent at my estate for the summer…….while she…..continues her education. Education at the fine University that lies near my estate in Calliope Ridge.” It was all he could think of. There was a dull roll of applause from the audience. Clearly the crowd was slightly confused.
The look upon Perceval’s face was disastrous, and there was a whisper throughout the crowd.
“Indeed, indeed.” Mr Scott replied, disoriented, and not wanting to make a scene. He cleared his throat. “Carry on, please. Simply carry-on.” He stormed out of the room and after a long pause the audience continued about their business, while no doubt discussing the recent occurrence in their hushed conversations.
Vivian saw that Odette had a look of horror on her face, and quickly ran out of the room. Vivian wanted to chase her, to explain that she was the one for him, and no other would do. But he needed to attend to the father first, and therefore, he abruptly made haste to the adjacent room.
There stood Mr. Scott, staring into the fire. He seemed calm enough, and so Vivian approached. But what transpired was something entirely different.
“Mr. Scott, allow me to explain.”
“Ahhhhhh!” Mr. Scott turned around with a hot poker in his hands and tried to lunge directly at Vivian. Having experience in combat, Vivian instantly was able to dislodge the weapon from the old man’s hand and press him to the ground.
“Get off of me you good-for-nothing sack of shit!” Mr. Scott yelled. Under the circumstances, Vivian thought it best to let him go, and even helped him to his feet. “What the devil is the matter with you? You’ve embarrassed me, you’ve shamed my family, and all in front of the King!” He yelled.
“My apologies sir, and please allow me to explain.” At that moment Millicent burst into the room, weeping, her face paint dripping down her cheeks.
“You brute!” She yelled towards Vivian. “And to think of the advances that you made upon me the other night!” She wailed. Vivian was at a loss for words. This couldn’t possibly be happening.
“What say you?” Mr. Scott bellowed. “That’s it, there’s only one way to resolve this, you devil. We’re to have a duel. At dawn tomorrow. We’ll settle this like men.” He said, straightening his coat.
Vivian by no means wanted to have a duel with this man, but it seemed like the only recourse. He musts needs pay for what had transpired.
“Most assuredly sir. If that is what you require to settle this, then I am a man of honor.” Of course, Vivian had no intention of shooting this man, nor indeed, being shot. In his years of military experience, he had learned how to avoid both. The task more pressing at hand was to find Odette. Where could she possibly have gone? He must explain to her all. But it could not happen tonight. He needed to clear his head, get some sleep, and be ready for tomorrow’s dawn.
Chapter Five
The morning was crisp, as the first rays of the sun shined off the dewy grass, creating little halos and prismatic sparks of light. The air was fresh and new, and Vivian felt invigorated by the thought that this whole ordeal would soon be over, he would be free of the Scotts, and he could finally ask Odette to be his. But first he had to get through this duel.
That his would be the first shot he was confident of, and his plan was to shoot Perceval’s gun straight from his hand, thus protecting the old man’s safety, and his own. This was a difficult maneuver to accomplish, but one that he had pulled off many times before. He took a deep breath of the morning air to focus him, then walked towards his opponent. No ladies were in attendance, but he secretly hoped Odette was there to witness his noble triumph.
“Good morning, sir.” Vivian said respectfully to Mr. Scott.
“And to you.” His demeanor was remarkably cold, and he seemed ready to strike at any moment.
“Now gentlemen, you know the rules. I’ll count twenty paces, and then fire. May the best man win.” Lord Benjamin, one of Scott’s closest confidants, was to preside over the event.
“Let it begin.” Mr. Scott said, determinedly.
“Backs to one another.” Lord Benjamin ominously proclaimed. “Now I’ll begin the count.” And so he proceeded. With each pace, Vivian thought of nothing bu
t Odette. He tried to keep his mind from wandering, to focus on the task at hand, but it was no use. He could think only of her.
“18!” Step. “19!” Step. “20!”
And with that Vivian turned quickly and pointed his weapon, seeking to quickly glance the position of Scott’s gun. But all was for naught.
Vivian felt the bullet enter into his chest. The piercing sting of it caught his breath, and a look of perplexity washed over his face. How could this have possibly happened? From where he felt the bullet enter it would most certainly mean death. Vivian fell to the floor, and everything else went blank.
******
When he regained consciousness, he knew not where he was. The bandage wrapped around his chest was covered in blood, and he could scarcely breathe. The woman by his side, of all people, was Deirdre Scott, solemnly looking down at his wounded frame.
