‘You’re not wise at all, Max. If you were you’d know I have nothing but encumbrances to offer you.’
She would have turned away but he caught hold of her hand. ‘Nothing?’
The touch seemed to burn her skin and gave rise to dangerous and forbidden thoughts. If he took her in his arms now... With an effort she controlled herself. For both their sakes she had to stop this.
‘Nothing.’
‘You’re lying, Vivien, and we both know it.’
‘You’re mistaken.’
‘No. You were never a good liar.’
She tried ineffectually to disengage her hand. ‘Let go of me, Max.’
‘What are you so afraid of?’
‘I’m not afraid.’
‘Then why are you trembling?’
‘Damn you, Max. What do you want from me?’
His gaze locked with hers. ‘The truth.’
‘I’ve told you. I have nothing to offer you. The house and the estate may have to be sold. I’ve already had to dispose of some of my jewellery...’
‘I don’t care if you’re down to your last farthing. Forget about what’s in the bank and tell me what’s in your heart.’
‘I cannot forget about the bank, that’s the trouble.’
‘I have more than I could ever spend.’
‘Marry you for your money?’
‘That isn’t what I meant.’
‘You’d always wonder, wouldn’t you?’
‘You’re the last woman I’d suspect of such a thing.’ He paused. ‘You’re evading the question. Tell me what’s in your heart.’
Her throat tightened. ‘I’ve already told you, Max. There can be no future for us.’
He relinquished his hold on her hand. ‘This isn’t just about money, is it? It’s about trust.’
The observation was painfully accurate and he saw it in her eyes. It hurt more than anything else. He sighed.
‘I cannot blame you for that. All I’m asking for is another chance.’
‘I couldn’t go through it all again, Max. My heart wouldn’t survive another experience like that.’
‘Give me a chance to earn your trust. You won’t regret it.’
It was as near to a plea as she had ever heard him utter; the temptation stronger than any she had ever known. She didn’t trust herself to speak and so vouchsafed no reply, knowing only that she had to leave the room now before her resolution failed. Turning away from him, she headed for the door.
‘Vivien, please don’t leave.’
Somehow she kept moving. His gaze followed her until she was gone.
* * *
Unable to rejoin the rest of the company in her present overwrought frame of mind, Vivien took refuge in her room. Unfortunately, the solitude was no more conducive to a state of calm. For some time she paced the floor, reliving every moment of her interview with Max. He was right; money wasn’t at the root of her refusal of his suit. It was about trust, or rather her lack of it. Yet past experience wasn’t so easily forgotten.
Tears pricked behind her eyelids. It would have been so easy to say yes. She’d wanted to. Why had she not trusted him then? He’d admitted his mistake, confessed his feelings. In declaring himself thus he had taken a risk. He’d also offered her a glimpse of a future very different from the one she’d envisaged for herself after Hugh died. A future she’d just rejected. The implications began to sink in. Dejectedly she sank down on the window seat and stared out at the snow-covered garden, a scene that was every bit as bleak as her own thoughts.
Chapter Ten
Over the next few days the bitter weather gradually gave way to milder air so that, although there was still plenty of snow on open ground, the roads again became passable with care. Max assimilated the fact with detached interest. His original plan to leave Oakhurst had long since been abandoned. With just a few days left until the end of the festive period he could bide his time.
A polite cough drew him away from the library window. He turned in surprise to see a small boy standing a few feet away. Max recognised him at once.
‘John, whatever are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with the others?’
‘They’ve sent me to speak to you, sir.’
Max stared at him, torn between curiosity and amusement. ‘What do you wish to speak to me about?’
‘There’s something that I...we...particularly wanted to ask you...’
* * *
Eleanor heard the news about the roads with relief since the proposed supper dance could go ahead as planned.
‘It would have been such a disappointment if we had been forced to forgo it.’
‘Yes, it would,’ replied Vivien. ‘I have been looking forward to it very much.’ It was no longer true but it would have been discourteous to say anything else.
‘Unfortunately Sir Digby will not be able to attend,’ Eleanor continued. ‘He is feeling indisposed and regrets that he must return home. I must say he has seemed rather out of sorts these last few days. Do you not think so?’
Vivien had a fairly shrewd idea as to what ailed him. Ever since his failed proposal he had only spoken to her when he had to and then with cold politeness. Neither of them had made any reference to what had passed and she certainly had no intention of telling anyone else. She wanted only to forget the whole sordid episode.
‘I thought he looked out of humour,’ she said. ‘Perhaps it was a consequence of his feeling unwell.’
‘I think you must be right. It’s a shame but there it is.’
‘Will Mrs Vayne be accompanying him?’
‘Yes, although she didn’t look very pleased about it.’
‘I don’t suppose she was.’
‘It’s understandable. She will be sorry to miss the dance,’ said Mary. ‘I know I’m looking forward to it...’
* * *
Vivien left them to talk and slipped away with the intention of looking in on her offspring and having a few words with their governess to ensure that everything was as it should be. Not that she was unduly worried. All the youngsters had behaved exceptionally well thus far and had evidently enjoyed themselves. From that point of view the holiday season had been a great success. It had gone so quickly though. In a little while the company would go their separate ways. After this she would never see Max again. It was her own stupid fault; the result of inner turmoil and muddled thinking. Clarity had come too late. He knew what he wanted. After all, he’d had ten years to think about it. That was why he had taken a chance and laid bare his heart. It was she who had lacked the courage to do the same. The knowledge was like a cold shadow over her soul.
As she approached the nursery she was surprised not to hear the sound of children’s voices and, for a moment, wondered if they had all gone outside to play. Then she heard a man’s voice.
‘...and the tiger snarled, baring its great white fangs...’
Vivien’s heart lurched. Surely it couldn’t be. Tiptoeing to the door she peered round the edge and then stared in astonishment. Max was ensconced in a chair by the hearth with nine children sitting at his feet in rapt silence. They were so engrossed that none of them even noticed her presence. Only Miss Dawson saw her and made to rise but she motioned the governess back again and slipped quietly into an unoccupied chair.
‘...and the hunters closed in...’
Watching the little scene Vivien was both amused and touched. His being here at all was an unlooked-for kindness and yet he seemed quite at home. Hugh had never possessed such ease with children, even his own.
‘...and the tiger sprang at the foremost hunter, huge claws unsheathed for the kill...’
It occurred to her that Max would have made a wonderful father. The thought was poignant, underlining what had been lost. Not lost this time, she amended, thrown away.
‘...the hunter stood his ground and fired. The deadly beast gave a fearsome roar as the shot pierced its heart and, carried by its own momentum, crashed to the earth only a yard from where the man stoo
d. Then it lay quite still, eyes staring, its lips drawn back in a last defiant snarl. The man-eater of Mulgore was dead.’
For a few seconds after the tale ended silence endured and the children continued to stare at the storyteller. Then they burst into spontaneous applause. Heart full, Vivien joined in. Max glanced round and, seeing her there, got to his feet at once.
‘Lady Hastings. I had no idea.’
‘I didn’t want to disturb you.’ She managed a smile. ‘I only heard the end, but it sounded like a wonderful story.’
John came to join her. ‘It was, Mama. It’s a great pity you missed most of it.’
‘Never mind, we can tell you the rest, Mama,’ said Rachel.
‘I’ll look forward to that.’
John looked up at Max. ‘Will you tell us some more stories about India, Mr Calderwood? If you have the time, of course.’
The request was endorsed by eight other voices. Max surveyed the hopeful faces and then smiled.
‘If you like.’
‘Will you tell us one tomorrow, sir?’
Vivien caught the governess’s eye. Miss Dawson stepped in to chivvy her charges away with the injunction not to be a nuisance if they hoped to have a story ever again.
As she and Max left the room and began to retrace their steps, Vivien regarded him apologetically.
‘I’m sorry about that. My son can be a perfect little pest at times.’
‘He’s not a pest. He just has an enquiring mind, that’s all.’
‘That’s one way of putting it. I’m afraid you’ll be plagued half to death now.’
‘I’ve enjoyed the company,’ he said. ‘Who could object to such an uncritical and attentive audience?’
‘You certainly had them in the palm of your hand. You have a gift.’
‘I merely recounted what I saw.’
‘You brought it to life for them.’
‘India is a colourful land. That helps.’
‘If the children have their way you may run out of stories.’
‘Never fear. There’s plenty more where that came from.’ He paused. ‘Enough to last the holidays—and beyond.’
She looked up quickly but his face gave nothing away. It must have been a chance remark. After what had passed between them there could not have been a deeper implication. All the same, the vision it created was dangerously seductive. If only reality were as uncomplicated. If only she hadn’t been such a confounded fool. He had asked for her trust and she hadn’t given it, hadn’t listened to her heart. As the silence stretched out she cast around desperately for a change of subject.
‘The supper dance is going ahead after all. Eleanor is greatly relieved.’
‘I’m sure she is.’
‘It will end the festivities on a high note.’
‘Let’s hope so,’ he replied.
She swallowed hard. ‘The Christmas season has gone so quickly. It’s hard to think of it being almost over.’
‘But it’s not over yet.’
‘No, not yet.’ She hesitated. ‘What will you do afterwards? Will you begin your search for a property?’
‘If everything goes according to plan.’
‘I hope it will.’
‘So do I,’ he replied.
They reached the door of the salon and paused there. Vivien summoned a smile.
‘Thank you for your time with the children. I know how much it meant to them.’
‘It was a pleasure.’
She glanced towards the door. ‘Are you coming in?’
‘No, I’ll join you presently. I want to take a walk first; the orchard this time, I think.’
‘The orchard?’
‘That’s right.’
Astonishment vied with curiosity for a moment, but she recollected herself quickly. ‘Until later then.’
He bowed and walked away. For a moment or two she watched him go, feeling utterly bereft, knowing that very soon he would walk away for the last time. Water welled in her eyes. Determinedly she blinked it back. Then, taking a deep breath, she opened the door and rejoined the company.
* * *
She had just changed for dinner that evening when Aunt Winifred put her head round the door.
‘May I come in, my dear?’
Vivien summoned a smile. ‘Of course.’
‘I just wanted to ask if you’re all right? You haven’t seemed quite yourself these past few days.’
‘I am perfectly well, I thank you.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. I was afraid that you might have contracted the same ailment as poor Sir Digby.’
‘Oh, er...no. I am not indisposed, truly.’
‘And yet something is amiss, is it not?’
Vivien sighed and sank down on the edge of the bed. ‘It’s complicated, Aunt. I thought it wasn’t but it is, far more than I ever imagined.’
‘Forgive me, but does this concern Mr Calderwood?’
She nodded, no longer able or willing to prevaricate. ‘He asked me to marry him.’
‘I was sure he still had a tendre for you.’
‘He says he loves me.’
‘I think you are not indifferent to him.’
‘No, but that is not the only consideration now.’
‘Then what is, my dear?’
‘Circumstances are different now. I have so many responsibilities and so little money. I am a positive liability, Aunt. I told him as much.’
‘Did that weigh with him?’
‘No.’
‘Then why should it trouble you? After all, he’s a mature man and presumably knows his own mind.’
‘You think I should have accepted him?’
‘What I think is not the point at issue here. What does your own heart tell you?’
‘My heart is unchanged. It was always his.’
‘But...’
‘He once hurt me very badly.’
‘It sounds as if he deeply regretted that,’ said her aunt. ‘Is it rather that you do not trust him?’
It hit the nail on the head, as Vivien recognised all too well.
‘His declaration took me so much by surprise...I didn’t know what to think.’
‘And now?’
‘I do trust him, Aunt. It has just taken me a while to realise it.’
‘Well then, you have a second chance. It is not given to many.’
‘I know. Yet the possibility of such happiness almost frightens me.’
Aunt Winifred surveyed her steadily. ‘If you find that frightening, my dear, perhaps you should try to imagine a future where he is not.’
Vivien could imagine it very well, every cold bleak detail. Suddenly she wanted to weep. ‘It’s too late now. I’ve refused him.’
‘Tell him you’ve changed your mind.’
‘Throw myself at his head?’
‘You could be a little more subtle than that, my dear.’
‘I’ve been such a fool.’
‘You’re not a fool; you’ve been confused, that’s all. It’s hardly to be wondered at, in the circumstances.’ Aunt Winifred squeezed her hand. ‘But things are never as lost as we think.’
Vivien wished she could believe it.
Chapter Eleven
As the supper dance approached the atmosphere at Oakhurst became charged with excitement. Vivien did her best to look enthusiastic, but in the back of her mind was the knowledge that it marked the end, and not only of the holiday. Would Max dance with her? Perhaps good manners would dictate that he ask for one at least; one dance that would have to last her a lifetime.
She had settled on a gown of white silk overlaid with spangled gauze. It was pretty and exquisitely feminine and, with its plunging neckline, seemed excitingly daring after the demure gowns she had worn in recent months. It was accompanied by white satin slippers and long white gloves. A few matching silk flowers nestled in her hair. She limited her jewellery to a single strand of pearls. For a minute or two she surveyed herself critically in the glass and decided that her appeara
nce would pass muster, although there was only one opinion that mattered. Not that he would care what she wore. He would likely be glad when this was all over.
* * *
Max was in the anteroom talking to some of the other gentlemen when she appeared. Then he glanced up and saw her and everything he had been about to say went out of his head. For a moment or two he just stared. She might have been the snow queen from a fairy tale, a fabulous being, beautiful, remote and unattainable. With that last thought a knot of tension formed in his stomach. Nevertheless, he took a deep breath and then went to greet her.
She saw him across the room and suddenly every other man faded to insignificance. Not only was he dangerously attractive, he carried himself with his usual quiet self-assurance. She, on the other hand, felt more like a green girl at her first ball. As he approached her heartbeat quickened.
He bowed, his gaze appraising every detail of her costume. ‘You look stunning.’
Vivien felt warmth creep into her cheeks. ‘Thank you.’
Max did not miss that sudden tinge of colour or the way it enhanced the blue of her eyes. It also helped dispel the notion of the snow queen.
‘That is a wonderful gown.’ It was more than that, he thought, and was glad she couldn’t read his mind just then.
‘It is good to have the opportunity to wear it again,’ she replied.
‘Let’s hope there will plenty more, now that you are out in the world again.’
‘It feels a little strange to be at a function like this after so long a time.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Never tell me you’re nervous, Lady Hastings.’
She was about to deny it but Max was too astute for that. ‘Just a little.’
‘A peerless beauty cannot feel nervous. That’s ridiculous.’
It drew an unwilling laugh. ‘Be serious, I beg you.’
‘I was never more serious in my life,’ he said. ‘While we’re speaking of serious matters, may I have the pleasure of the first two dances?’
‘You may.’
‘I thought I’d better ask before you’re besieged by admirers.’
She smiled ruefully. ‘I’m flattered, but I think you would have been quite safe.’
Snowbound Wedding Wishes: An Earl Beneath the MistletoeTwelfth Night ProposalChristmas at Oakhurst Manor (Harlequin Historical) Page 25
