Her Perfect Match: Mistress Matchmaker, Book 3

by Jess Michaels

  Vivien arched a brow. Lysandra was still such an innocent.

  “Lovers,” she supplied.

  “Yes. I should have told you. Is it horribly uncomfortable?”

  Vivien swallowed. A loaded question if ever there was one. Was it uncomfortable to see the last man she had ever called protector? The one who she had shared such a passion with that it still resonated within her, no matter how she tried to forget him? The one who had told her he loved her? The one she had walked away from for so very many reasons.

  “Of course not,” she said with little strength to her voice. “Everyone knows that Benedict and I have stayed on very good terms over the years. I always enjoy seeing him.”

  Lysandra stared at her and Vivien could see she didn’t truly believe her. Did that mean her conflicted emotions were obvious? That would not do.

  “In fact, I should go and welcome him, since I did not do so earlier.”

  Lysandra nodded. “Would you like me to come with you?”

  Vivien hesitated. There would be some comfort in having a buffer there when she spoke to Benedict. But he would know that was her reason for bringing her friend when she spoke to him. Showing him that weakness was not wise.

  “I see Andrew eyeing you from across the room,” she said with a motion toward the handsome Viscount. “You should join him and return your thoughts to those here to celebrate you. I’m perfectly capable of talking to Benedict on my own.”

  Lysandra smiled. “Of course.”

  Her friend stepped away and Vivien thrust her shoulders back as she began the short walk across the room to Benedict’s side. She could do this. She had talked to him dozens of times since their parting. There was nothing different about this time.

  Except that he was now her final item on a list of loose ends to resolve before she departed London forever. Only she wasn’t certain she could ever truly resolve her complicated feelings for him.

  Still, she smiled as she reached his side and prepared to pretend that his presence here meant nothing to her.

  Benedict saw Vivien coming across the room in his direction from the moment she turned ever so slightly. But that was nothing new. Whenever they were in the same space, he couldn’t help but be utterly aware of her and her every move. Her every breath. That was the curse of his feelings for her. They forced him to track her when he knew he should not.

  His distraction must have been obvious, for the people he had been talking to a moment before moved off and left him alone as Vivien reached his side with a smile he knew too well. It was her false “mistress” expression meant to soothe and seduce. It wasn’t real.

  “Benedict,” she said as she reached for his hands. She squeezed them briefly and then let them go, but the touch blasted him back in time to a night when they had lain out on the grass after making love, holding hands and staring up at the stars.

  “Vivien,” he managed to croak out. “This is a lovely party you have thrown together for your friends.”

  She tilted her head. “Yes. It isn’t my usual kind of event, but I’m happy to celebrate all four of them and their marriages.”

  He swallowed back a biting word about her lack of desire for her own marriage and instead smiled. “Both the couples do look very happy.”

  She shifted ever so slightly and then rushed into a new topic.

  “How have you been? I have not seen you in…it must be a few months.”

  Benedict pursed his lips. It had been four months, six days.

  “Right after Christmas, I think it was,” he said. “I returned to London to take care of some business and saw you at the opera, wasn’t it?”

  Her eyes widened when he could recount so many details, but he shook his head. If only she knew that he could recall even more. Like how her blonde hair had been styled in a different way that night. Like how she had smelled of lemons and rosewater. Like the exact cut and color of her blue gown.

  He kept those details to himself. She had already rejected the idea that he would notice them. Rejected him. There was no changing that.

  “I think you are correct,” she said. “How have you been since then?”

  “Very well,” he replied, keeping up the same charade that she was. That they were acquaintances. “My family is well.”

  “Good.” She remained smiling, but he could see the slight twitch in her cheek. Vivien had always known that his family did not approve of the relationship they’d shared.

  Benedict clenched his hands at his sides. She had used that fact in her parting with him. Hidden behind their disapproval in a cowardly display when he knew there was more to her rejection of his heart. She had told him to move on with his life. And since that was what she wanted…

  “I am being encouraged to marry,” he said, watching her carefully for her response. “And I believe it may well be time for me to make that commitment.”

  She blinked. That was her only response. Just a flutter of her eyelids that betrayed she felt any deeper emotion about his announcement than she showed. It took her a moment to respond.

  “I suppose it is time for you to pursue a new future.” She hesitated as if she was going to say more, but didn’t.

  “Yes. A new future,” he repeated, but there was no pleasure in the words he spoke. They felt like sand on his tongue.

  She tilted her head. “You do not wish for this?”

  He bit back surprise that she would be so direct. “You know what I wish for.”

  Now it was her turn to draw back. “Benedict—”

  He waved his hand to silence her. “Please do not go through all your reasons for rejecting me. I have heard them all.”

  She was silent for a moment, watching him with a hooded gaze he could not read. Then she moved closer. “Benedict, it is true I cannot accept any future you have offered me. We both know why.”

  Except he didn’t, but he said nothing and she continued.

  “But I would be lying if I told you that I didn’t still…think of you. Of us.”

  He stared. Was this happening? Was she truly saying these things after three years of polite distance and pretending to be friends?

  “You do,” he said, flat and emotionless for he feared revealing too much.

  She nodded. “It seems there is unfinished business between us. On both sides. And since everything is about to change, I wonder if we should resolve that business, if only so it won’t haunt us.”

  “What are you saying?” he asked softly.

  She swallowed and her voice trembled as she whispered, “Be with me again.”

  He stared at her for he didn’t know how long. This was like a dream. Or a nightmare he had lived out before.

  Vivien shifted with discomfort. “Benedict?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m certain I didn’t understand you correctly. Will you repeat the question?”

  Blood rushed to her cheeks, making them pink. He had so rarely seen her bashful that he stared at the sight.

  “We have something still between us, Benedict. Before everything changes, I would like to resolve it. I want to be with you.”

  “Vivien,” he whispered. “Why now?”

  She was silent for so long that he thought she might not answer. Then she looked him in the eyes. “Why not?”

  But as he stared into the blue depths of her gaze, he saw something deep within that he thought she did not mean to share. A secret, a hesitation, something she was not saying.

  And fear was there too. Fear which wasn’t like her.

  She reached out and squeezed his arm. He felt her touch crash though him like lightning and he almost recoiled from its power.

  “Don’t decide this very moment,” she insisted. “I will wait for you tonight after the party. If you come to my room…you come.” She emphasized the word so there was no doubt to its meaning. “If you don’t…I understand and I will wish you nothing but the best.”

  She released him and stepped away. Without another word, she scur
ried into the crowd and left him standing, wrecked in her wake and totally uncertain of what he should do.

  She offered him a return to the happiest time of his life. A sweet taste of passion and pleasure and all the love he still felt for her. But he knew that taste came at a cost. She had already made it very clear that they would never be together beyond an affair, beyond sex.

  His brother had been telling him for years to walk away from Vivien. But he had never been able to do that.

  And now might not be any different.

  Chapter Four

  “You are distracted.”

  “What?” Vivien blinked, dragged back to the present moment as Mariah stepped up to her side and held out a glass of sherry for her.

  Her friend laughed. “You see, your response proves my point exactly. I have been standing beside you for nearly a full minute and you didn’t even notice me.”

  Vivien downed a sip of the drink. Her friend was right, but she wasn’t about to admit it.

  “Of course I noticed you!” she lied through clenched teeth.

  Mariah arched a brow and it was clear she did not believe that statement even for a moment’s time.

  “Then why were you staring off into space, eyes glazed and in no way paying attention to your own party, even though your guests have slowly begun to depart? Is this some new technique to make yourself mysterious?”

  Vivien rolled her eyes at her friend. “Very well, I was woolgathering. You would think that had become a capital offense to hear you grouse about it.”

  “No capital offense, I assure you. Simply something I am not accustomed to.”

  “I don’t know why,” Vivien protested. “No one can pay attention at all times.”

  Mariah shrugged as if conceding the point. “I suppose not, but you have always been the most attentive hostess. Which begs the question—what was on your mind that would so thoroughly change that?”

  Vivien pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t blurt out Benedict’s name. Whatever was happening between them was a private matter and she didn’t want her hawkish friends involved. Especially Mariah.

  Of course, she didn’t have to say his name at all. Her silence made Mariah shake her head.

  “And what was the news from Mr. Benedict Greystone?”

  “What do you mean?” Vivien asked, but her tone was weak even to her own ears. She would not convince anyone that Benedict wasn’t on her mind with that waver to her voice.

  Mariah set her drink aside, folded her arms and leaned closer. “I saw you talking to him a short time ago.”

  Vivien darted her gaze away from her friend. Her best recourse was to say nothing. Mariah knew she and Benedict had been lovers but little else beyond that. She might suspect something more remained between them, but she had no proof. And as long as Vivien stayed quiet, neither Mariah nor anyone else would see how many secrets Vivien had to keep. And how many plans there were to be talked out of if she dared speak of them.

  “Well then,” Mariah laughed when Vivien did not respond to her teasing. “Keep your council. I suppose you have earned your secrets and know very well how to keep them.”

  “It is my duty to do so,” Vivien said with a false brightness her friend seemed to accept for her face changed from one of interest to one of warmth.

  “Either way, thank you for tonight. I have missed being in the company of those you invited. I admit I was nervous to see old friends, but they have been very kind.”

  Vivien set aside her own troubles and thoughts and reached for her best friend’s hands. She squeezed them gently. “You deserve all your current happiness and so much more.”

  Mariah’s eyes swelled with sudden tears, but she shook her head.

  “Don’t sound so serious, Vivien! When you do it makes your words sound like it is an ending of some kind.”

  Vivien flinched. “I suppose it is,” she admitted.

  “It isn’t.” Mariah laughed. “I am only going home and I’ll see you tomorrow for tea.”

  Vivien blinked. That twinge of guilt that had started in her earlier in the evening grew. She should tell Mariah her plans to leave London, to start over. And she would.

  But not tonight.

  “Of course,” Vivien instead said with a laugh. “I will be at your house at three o’clock sharp.”

  Mariah leaned forward to kiss her cheek. As she leaned back, she looked at her closely and said, “Good night. Sleep well tonight. You need it, I think.”

  Vivien smiled as her friend moved toward her waiting husband and the door through the thinning crowd. Mariah meant well, but Vivien knew one thing for certain. There would be no sleep for her tonight, no matter what Benedict’s decision about joining her might be.

  Benedict stood in one of Vivien’s parlors just outside her foyer and stared through the doorway as her party guests slowly maneuvered their way outside to their carriages with cries of farewell and orders to servants. Over half had gone home and still he debated with himself.

  Should he leave and forget this night, with Vivien’s bewitching offer, had happened? Or should he stay and open himself up to powerful passions and equally potent old wounds?

  He gripped his hands at his sides and squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. His mind raced, but no matter how many options he considered, he could formulate no good answer to his questions. He was of two minds still—he wanted to stay, but he knew he needed to go for the sake of his sanity.

  “Greystone?”

  He opened his eyes and blood rushed to his cheeks when he found Viscount Andrew Callis, an old friend, standing before him, staring at him in concern.

  “Are you well?”

  Benedict considered the question and ultimately gave the polite response over the truth.

  “Of course, very well,” he said with a false grin that made his cheeks hurt. “Thank you again for including me in the invitation tonight. It has been an interesting evening.”

  An understatement if he had ever made one.

  “I was happy we ran into you so that the invitation could be made.” Andrew tilted his head slightly and examined Benedict closer. “Though I admit, I was a little surprised when you agreed to come.”

  Benedict tried not to show his reaction to the statement on his face and feared he failed. “Why wouldn’t I? I am very happy for you and for Lysandra.”

  Andrew pursed his lips. “I appreciate that. Any friend we have in a higher social sphere is most welcome, considering the basis of our union. But I meant I was surprised given your history with Vivien.”

  “My history,” Benedict repeated with a humorless bark of laughter. “Oh yes, I thought it was ancient history.”

  “Isn’t it?” Andrew asked with lifted eyebrows. “It has been, what, two years since you two parted ways?”

  “Three,” Benedict corrected, his voice quiet. “Three years and nearly a month.”

  Images of the night Vivien rejected him flashed through his mind in rapid succession and he forced them back so they would not buckle him with renewed emotion.

  Andrew’s stare transformed from one of vague interest to concern with the specificity Benedict chose to use in his description. He leaned back on his heels and his appraising glance seemed to pierce through to Benedict’s very soul. Benedict shook his head at the look. Damn it, but he was going too far.

  For years he had successfully protected himself from the prying of others when it came to Vivien and his feelings for her. Only his brother knew the truth about the emotions that remained. But now, raw from her request, confused by his reaction to it, he could no longer seem to maintain control over himself.

  “Is there something you wish to discuss?” Andrew asked, stepping closer to give them more privacy. “You seem very much ill at ease and I would like to help if I am able. I could promise you utmost discretion.” He chuckled. “Even from my wife if need be.”

  Benedict turned on his heel and paced farther into the parlor. Andrew likely did not know how tempting an offer
he presented. There was a large part of Benedict that wished to hash out his conflicted feelings and Andrew had always been a good friend when he needed one.

  But once he said the things inside of him, they could never be taken back or pretended away again. And while he knew Andrew meant the offer of discretion when it came to Lysandra, if he betrayed that promise, there was no doubt that all of Benedict’s words would come right back to Vivien. And the power they would give her…

  It was too much.

  “I trust your discretion, of course,” he croaked past dry lips. “And I appreciate your offer of an ear. But at this point, I do not think I can explain what I do not understand myself.”

  He glanced over to see if Andrew would accept this mysterious explanation.

  His friend continued to look concerned but said, “Very well. I would never demand a statement you didn’t wish to share, of course. But I hope you know that if you need to talk, I am here in London for the remainder of the Season.”

  “Thank you,” Benedict said, facing his friend straight on so that Andrew would know how much he meant his gratitude.

  Andrew shrugged and stepped back. “Now I should go back to what I was doing, which was searching for my dear wife. It is late and I would much rather be at home in my bed than fighting the crowds through the London streets. Good evening.”

  Benedict nodded his goodbye and turned to face the low fire in the grate behind him. Though his emotions might remain conflicted, what he had to do was suddenly as clear as the freshly cleaned window across the room.

  He had to leave.

  If he couldn’t control his emotions with a friendly acquaintance like Andrew Callis, then he had no chance with Vivien. And he already knew how sharing his emotions with her would turn out. He would be crushed. Rebutted. Rejected.

  And that would not do. Not now. Not ever again.

  He exited the room and passed through the crowd waiting for their carriages at the entryway to the house. His horse was tethered nearby and he didn’t wait for a servant to fetch it. He released the animal himself, swung into the saddle and rode away.