She laughed and took a step closer. ‘That is not what I meant.’
‘I can think of no other reason for you to linger here.’
‘Oh, come now, Max. You don’t have to pretend to me.’
‘It was never my intention to do so.’
‘I’m glad. I do so abhor pretence. Besides, it wastes so much time.’ She smiled and laid a hand on his breast. ‘If you put your arms around me we would both be a lot warmer.’
‘If you wish to be warm, ma’am, you will return to the salon as I suggested.’
‘I don’t understand...’
Max’s gaze locked with hers. ‘Mrs Vayne, when I see something I want, then I’ll go after it. I don’t want it to chase after me.’
With that he bowed and strode away leaving her staring after him in speechless fury.
* * *
Max didn’t follow his own advice and return to the salon. Instead he headed for the library, needing time and space to cool his annoyance. Most of it was directed at himself for having allowed the situation to happen in the first place. It hadn’t occurred to him that Cynthia’s flirtatiousness was anything more than her natural manner. Now he knew better. He had no intention of making any further reference to it and could only hope that the woman had enough sense to follow suit.
Fortunately the library was empty and he shut the door behind him with a grateful sigh. It was also warmer than the gallery thanks to the fire in the hearth. He sat down in front of the arched window at the far end, surveying the scene beyond. As he did so Vivien’s image returned with force. He tried to imagine her making advances, inviting him to put his arms around her. It was a tantalising prospect. He smiled ruefully. It was also wishful thinking—at present. He’d been doing a lot of that lately. All the same, he’d been careful not to overplay his hand; it wasn’t enough that she should be relaxed in his company. He wanted her to actively desire it. By limiting the time he spent with her at first he hoped to bring that about, but it was a tricky proposition, especially since he knew that he had a rival for her affections. He hadn’t seen any indication of special fondness there, but it wouldn’t do to be complacent. It was time to step up his campaign.
* * *
When the backgammon game ended Vivien declined another and rose from the table. Sir Digby rose with her.
‘You are quite right,’ he said. ‘We have sat down long enough. Let us take a stroll instead.’ Seeing her doubtful look he smiled. ‘Not too far though. I know you will not wish to be too far from the fireside on such a day.’
Seeing that there was nothing for it she reluctantly complied.
‘Have you finished reading that book yet?’ he asked as they walked slowly along the corridor.
Relieved by the choice of topic she relaxed a little. ‘The Monk? No, I’m about halfway through it.’
‘And what do you make of it?’
‘It’s an exciting read if rather a frightening one at times.’
‘You enjoy Gothic, I collect.’
‘Very much. Do not you, sir?’
‘I hate to admit it, ma’am, but I haven’t read any. My sister tells me I should. Am I missing something?’
‘Indeed you are.’
‘I wonder if Sir Charles has any Gothic novels in his library.’
‘He has quite a few,’ said Vivien.
‘How very fortunate. What do you think I should start with?’
‘Well, what about one of Mrs Radcliffe’s stories?’
‘All right.’ He paused. ‘Perhaps we could go and find one now.’
Vivien hesitated but nothing could have been more respectful than his expression. She upbraided herself for being uncharitable.
‘Very well, sir.’
They walked together to the library. Sir Digby opened the door and stood back to let her enter, then shut the door behind them. Vivien fought down a sudden feeling of apprehension and moved away from him, turning her attention towards one of the bookcases nearby.
‘The Gothic novels are here, sir.’
He came to join her. ‘So they are to be sure. However, I think you must know that I did not bring you here just to talk about books.’
Vivien’s stomach lurched. ‘Forgive me, but it is a library, sir.’
He smiled. ‘You are naturally modest, my lady, but you cannot have failed to notice my attentions towards you.’
‘I confess I did but I must tell you...’
He stepped a little closer. ‘I did not declare myself before out of consideration for your circumstances.’
‘Sir Digby, I am flattered but...’
‘Come, my lady, don’t be coy.’
Annoyance began to replace apprehension. ‘Coy? I can assure you, sir, you are mistaken.’
‘You’ve held me at arm’s length for long enough. Now I intend to admire you at closer quarters.’ He seized hold of her waist. ‘You and I are going to be married.’
‘Let go of me!’
‘No, my lady, I shall not.’
A wet, loose-lipped mouth descended on hers. Vivien struggled in revulsion and turned her head aside.
‘Stop this at once!’
‘You’re doing it too brown, my dear. Don’t pretend that you don’t prefer my embraces to any that dried-up old stick of a husband gave you.’
He planted another slobbery kiss on her neck. She got a hand free and slapped him hard.
‘How dare you?’
He let go of her, clutching his cheek incredulously. Vivien glared at him.
‘I have no idea why you should imagine your suit agreeable to me. I have never given you the least encouragement and neither will I. Under other circumstances I might have tried for greater civility but this boorish treatment obviates any such need. I find you quite obnoxious, sir, and your addresses disgusting.’
He stared at her in scarlet-faced disbelief. ‘You can’t mean it.’
‘I can assure you that I do mean it, sir.’
As it dawned on him that she was serious his expression altered and the last vestiges of amiability vanished. ‘You will live to regret this day’s work, my lady.’
‘I doubt that.’
He returned a sneering smile. ‘We’ll see, won’t we? I know all about your late husband’s investments. When you and your children are in the poorhouse you’ll think back on this conversation and rue the day you rejected Digby Feversham.’
With that he turned on heel and left her, banging the door behind him. Vivien’s fury erupted and she began to pace the floor.
‘Of all the loathsome, detestable, slimy little reptiles...’
A muffled choking sound from the far side of the room stopped her in her tracks. She listened intently but the sound was not repeated. However, the silence had a different quality now as though the very air had been stretched taut, and she knew with certainty that she wasn’t alone. A swift look around contradicted the thought until her gaze fell on the arched window and the wing chair in front of it. A dreadful suspicion took root in her mind.
Chapter Nine
Taking a deep breath she marched across the room. Her heart leapt towards her throat to see the familiar figure ensconced in the chair.
‘You!’
Max came to his feet. ‘I’m afraid so.’
‘You should have made your presence known, sir.’
Far from expressing contrition his eyes were alight with amusement. ‘And missed that? I wouldn’t have done so for the world.’
‘Why, I believe you are utterly shameless.’
‘I confess it.’
‘What are you doing here anyway, apart from eavesdropping on other people’s private conversation?’
‘I came in search of some peace and quiet. A library is usually a good choice.’
‘Don’t be flippant, Max.’
‘I beg your pardon. It’s the residual effect of hearing you send that posturing fool to the right about.’
‘I imagine you enjoyed it immensely.’
‘You’re quite r
ight.’ He paused, regarding her appreciatively. ‘That was a magnificent slap, by the way. Richly deserved too, in my opinion.’
‘Do you not deserve the same?’
He held up his hands in mock surrender. ‘Probably, but I beg you will be lenient since my offence was unintended.’
‘Only you could find entertainment in that sordid little scene.’
‘Entertainment at his expense, not yours.’
‘Really?’ Her chin tilted to a militant angle. ‘I have another theory. I think the whole charade has just been part of the Christmas festivities as far as you’re concerned.’
His amusement faded. ‘No, never that.’
‘Perhaps I should be flattered to know that I can still amuse you.’
With that she turned on heel and headed for the door.
‘That isn’t what I meant. Vivien, wait!’
She flung the door wide and kept going. Half-walking half-running she reached the side door to the garden, so angry that even the icy air had no power to deter. She was fifty yards along the path before Max eventually caught her up.
‘Vivien, please stop!’
She swung round to face him. ‘What now?’
‘I apologise if I hurt your feelings. That was not my intention, I swear it.’
‘You may not have intended it, Max, but you did all the same.’ The blue gaze locked with his. ‘You’re good at it.’
He stared at her, appalled. ‘Vivien, I...’
‘You’ve had your fun. Now go away.’ To her horror her eyes began to fill with water.
‘I’m not going anywhere until we’ve straightened this out.’
‘There’s nothing to straighten out.’
‘I think there is.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I should not have eavesdropped on your conversation with Feversham, but I had no idea what he was about until he declared himself. After that I thought it would be more embarrassing for everyone concerned if I did make my presence known.’
Vivien surveyed him in glowering silence although privately she could see the dilemma.
‘It was my intention to remain where I was until you’d both gone,’ he went on. ‘Unfortunately I gave myself away.’
‘By laughing.’
‘Wrong of me, I know, but you will allow that there can scarcely have been a less gentlemanly proposal of marriage in the whole history of the world.’
That was certainly true, though she wasn’t going to admit it to him.
‘Even had his addresses had been more polished I would not have accepted him. I will never again marry a man whom I do not love.’
‘Never again?’
She hesitated but, as some of her anger began to ebb, it was replaced with sadness and a sense of futility. ‘I did not love Hugh. I married him to oblige my family.’
‘I see.’ As he assimilated her words all his former assumptions were blown out of the water and his mind reeled at the implications. At the same time the flicker of hope grew stronger.
‘It was a mistake I had plenty of time to regret. I shall not repeat the error. Only the very deepest love would ever induce me to remarry.’
‘We all learn from our mistakes. Those who are really lucky do so while there is still time to reshape their lives.’
She shivered and drew her shawl closer. ‘Yes, they are fortunate indeed.’
Max saw the gesture and his hand closed over hers, a warm clasp that sent a very different kind of shiver along her skin. He frowned. ‘My dearest girl, you’re icy cold and no wonder. Let’s get back indoors before you catch your death.’
Vivien blinked. What had he just called her? Before she had time to ponder that, his hand was under her elbow and she was steered gently but firmly back to the house. They retraced their steps to the library. Max sat her down in a chair by the hearth and threw a couple more logs on the fire. Then he reached for the decanter on the side table and poured two measures of brandy.
‘Here.’ He handed her a glass. ‘Drink this. It’ll warm you.’
As she took it his fingers brushed hers, a light and possibly accidental touch that was nevertheless disturbing. She lowered her gaze and swallowed a mouthful of brandy. The fiery liquor carved a path to her stomach. It was strong and dangerously heady but she could already feel its seductive warmth.
‘Better?’ he asked.
She nodded. ‘Yes, I thank you.’
Presently the logs caught and began to throw out comforting heat, but the tingling in her blood was more to do with the present company than with cold.
Max remained by the hearth, one booted foot resting casually on the fender. For a little while he surveyed her in silence. Then another part of the overheard conversation returned.
‘Vivien, what did Feversham mean by his parting shot?’
She looked up quickly. ‘His parting shot?’
‘When he spoke of the poorhouse?’
‘Oh, that.’ She sighed. ‘Sheer spite. My husband made some bad investments in the year before his death. As a result my financial situation is not as good as it could be.’
‘Are things as bad as Feversham implied?’ Max caught himself there. ‘Forgive me, I didn’t mean to pry.’
She shook her head. ‘No matter. Feversham exaggerated a little, but I cannot pretend that I’m not anxious about the future, especially for the children.’
Although it was said matter-of-factly the words only reinforced the impression of her vulnerability. He also heard what she wasn’t saying and his concern increased.
‘Have your husband’s solicitors spoken to you?’
‘Yes, but to be honest I hardly took it in at the time. I was still too disorientated by Hugh’s death. It was only afterwards that the extent of the damage became apparent.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘Marriage to Feversham would have gone a long way towards solving the problem.’
‘And created far worse ones.’
‘As you say.’
The warmth began to penetrate and combined with the brandy. Vivien relaxed a little. Being able to voice her fears like this made her feel better, and Max had always been a ready listener. She also knew he wouldn’t divulge the details of their conversation to anyone else.
‘Besides,’ he said, ‘you have vowed not to follow that route.’
‘So I have, in spite of all my family’s urging.’
‘Are they pressing you to remarry?’
‘Yes, but I shall not yield to it.’
‘I’m pleased to hear it.’ He thought she would never know how pleased, or how much this conversation gave him hope.
‘You are fortunate in not having a set of pushing relations.’
‘I am not easily pushed into doing anything I don’t want to do.’
‘I only wish I’d had that kind of resolution,’ she replied. ‘It might have saved me a deal of heartache.’
‘Heartache?’
‘I should never have married Hugh. I knew I didn’t love him, but I thought respect would be enough. It didn’t take me long to realise that I’d made a terrible mistake.’
‘Oh, my dear girl.’
‘He was a good man, a kindly man, but we had nothing in common except the children. As time went on we just grew further apart.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘My being unhappy made him so. It was never my intention to do that.’
‘We all do things that have unintended consequences,’ he said.
‘His death came as a relief in the end—for both of us.’
‘You were only half of the relationship. The fault lies as much with your husband for failing to ascertain your true feelings before he married you.’
‘Would that he had, or that I’d had better sense. I deserve to feel guilty.’
Max shook his head. ‘“Use every man after his desert, and who shall ’scape whipping?” It does no good to repine over what cannot be changed.’
‘I cannot dodge my share of the blame. After all, we are the decisions we make.’
Max felt his h
eart constrict as he acknowledged the truth of that observation.
‘It wouldn’t have happened if I’d possessed a grain of common sense.’ He met her gaze and held it. ‘Letting you go was the biggest mistake of my life and there has not been a day since when I have not regretted it.’
It was as though all the breath had left her body and she could only stare at him. Misinterpreting that expression of astonishment he nodded.
‘After the way I behaved I know I do not deserve that you should listen to me now, but I beg that you will nevertheless.’ He paused. ‘Ten years is a long time to repent of youthful folly, but if there is one thing I have learned it is not to throw away the chances that life brings. Seeing you again has reinforced that lesson.’
Somehow she found her voice. ‘What are you saying, Max?’
‘That I did not know my own heart until it was too late. I was a damned fool, but I have never stopped loving you and I never will.’ He took a deep breath. ‘You are too open-hearted to sport with my feelings. I do not know if you can ever forgive my behaviour towards you but if I thought you might, if I thought there was a chance for us, I’d gladly wait another ten years.’
Vivien clasped her hands in her lap to keep them from trembling. ‘You have no need to speak of forgiveness. You had that long ago.’
‘Then...is there a chance?’
How tempting it was to say yes, tempting and dangerous. She’d given him her heart once before and been hurt. If she made the same mistake it would only lead to even greater pain, the kind that she wouldn’t get over.
‘It’s too late, Max. You must see that.’
His heart sank. ‘You no longer feel the same.’
She came out of the chair to face him. ‘It’s not that simple. We’re not the people we once were.’
‘No, we’re older and wiser.’
She swallowed hard, almost overpowered by his nearness; by the intensity of his gaze. The brandy had gone to her head as well making it harder to think. But she had to think. It wasn’t just about the fear of being hurt again. It was about possibly hurting him too. To say yes now would be to offload a huge burden. It would be very easy to agree to that; easy and wrong. No matter what had gone before she couldn’t take advantage in that way. The thought was unbearable. She understood then how much she did care.
Snowbound Wedding Wishes: An Earl Beneath the MistletoeTwelfth Night ProposalChristmas at Oakhurst Manor (Harlequin Historical) Page 24
