Benedict glanced at her. Her tone was very flat, but her face revealed nothing.
“Indeed, it will,” he reassured her. “The damage is done. I hope you are happy about that.”
She lifted her face to his, examining him closely, but she didn’t have a chance to speak because at that moment another person spoke. From behind him, Benedict heard his name. And when he turned, he found his brother and his brother’s wife standing there, staring at him…staring at her.
The tension in her hand against his arm tightened and for a moment her face revealed pure terror. Benedict had no understanding of why. She had met his brother a few times during their first affair, but why she felt so strongly about him, Benedict did not know.
“Lord and Lady Abbotton,” he drawled with a smile that challenged his brother to say something about his companion. “I did not realize you two would be in attendance tonight.”
Derek arched a brow. “I imagine you did not.”
Benedict ignored the judgmental tone of his brother’s answer and turned his attention toward Jocelyn. His sister-in-law kept casting side glances at Vivien but had not yet acknowledged her. Nor had his brother.
“Jocelyn, you look lovely.”
She smiled, but the version of it was weak indeed. “Thank you, Benedict.”
“And I do not think you have met my companion—” he began.
His brother moved forward slightly, almost as if to protect Jocelyn. “My wife knows who she is.”
Vivien sucked in a breath but did not move nor allow her reaction to be present on her face.
Derek turned to her. “Vivien,” he said, the barest of welcomes said on the barest of polite tones.
She swallowed. “Lord Abbotton.” She glanced at his wife with a shaky smile. “And Lady Abbotton, congratulations on your marriage.”
Jocelyn nodded, but there was stiff discomfort and confusion about what to do on her face. Benedict couldn’t understand it. He knew her to be a kind woman, friendly to all, and yet she could scarcely look at Vivien.
There was a moment of the awkwardness that stretched between them for what seemed like an eternity and then Vivien broke it in the most unusual way possible.
She turned to Benedict. “I am afraid I find myself with a headache. Thank you for including me tonight, but I think I shall return home.”
Benedict stared at her. She was running? “Vivien—”
She held up a hand and faced his brother and sister-in-law with false brightness. “It is always a pleasure to see you. Do enjoy your evening.”
His brother seemed to feel no pleasure as he bid her farewell and watched her turn to depart the ballroom. His face was grim.
Benedict couldn’t help it, he rushed to follow her, proving to himself yet again that he was bound to this woman in ways he could hardly explain. Ways she did not desire.
There seemed to be no escaping that fact, no matter what he did.
Chapter Thirteen
Vivien could scarcely breathe as she made her way across the ballroom. It felt like every eye followed her, disgusted expressions greeted her, the walls closed in on her and she could barely contain an urge to run toward the carriage she knew awaited her on the drive.
Guests were still entering the ballroom as she burst into the cool night air and looked for her driver in the fray of servants and partygoers. Suddenly a servant for the house was at her elbow, looking at her benignly.
“May I assist, miss?”
She nodded. “I am looking for my friend’s driver, I must depart immediately.”
The servant did not register a reaction to this statement, despite the early hour, but merely took her information and set off to find the man in the collection of servants who had taken their masters’ vehicles behind the house to wait for the party’s end many hours from now.
She shifted in the night air, moving off into the shadow of the house so the latecomers would not see her. How she wished no one could see her after tonight.
But that was not to be, for at that moment the man who saw her most clearly stepped outside, scanning for her.
Benedict.
She stared at him in the fraction of a moment before he saw her. He looked so handsome in his formal attire. So much above her in a way she often tried to pretend wasn’t true. Tonight had proven it, yet again.
“There you are,” he said as he caught sight of her in the shadows. She held her breath as he approached, hoping she would not reveal too much of herself. “What is wrong?”
She shrugged one shoulder and wished the servant would hurry so that Mariah’s carriage would come and save her. “As I said, it is a headache, nothing more. Please do not trouble yourself about it.”
He stared at her. “Vivien,” he whispered. “I do not believe that is all there is to this sudden desire to depart. What is wrong?”
She hesitated. There was no use in pretending if he would not accept that. She sighed. “Benedict, I ask you to please accept my excuse. Let me go.”
He stared at her for a moment and then he reached out to take her hand. They were both wearing gloves, but his fingers warmed her regardless. They made her want to lean into him and allow for this comfort he wished to offer. It was only her long years of practicing control that kept her from doing something so foolish.
“Benedict,” she whispered. “I do not belong here. Tonight has reminded me of that fact.”
He shook his head. “That isn’t true.”
“It is,” she said, with more force and volume than perhaps she had intended. “You saw Beecher’s reaction. He and Felicity were horrified when I spoke, when they began to suspect what I was.”
“That was our intention, wasn’t it?” Benedict asked.
She frowned. “It was, yes. But that does not make it any more pleasant. And your brother and his wife…”
He shook his head. “He was cold to you, I know. And I don’t know why she was so standoffish—she is usually very kind.”
For the first time since the night began, she smiled, soft and indulgent. “Come, Benedict, do not be naïve. You know exactly why they behaved as they did. Your sister-in-law is a lady. I am most definitely not. She should not be kind to me, nor welcoming. She has been taught her whole life that women like me are a plague, one she might even believe is transmittable by touch or kindness. No, the fact that she even acknowledged my existence at all is a boon, and I know it.”
He stared at her, shaking his head, and she could see there was a part of him that knew what she said was true and it warred with a part that still didn’t want to believe that their lives could be so disparate. That there could be no chance of these worlds being able to merge.
He still loved her. And the fact of it stung like fire.
She backed away, releasing his hand even though she did not want to do it. “Benedict, go back inside. There are women there who will want to be what you need.”
He shook his head. “I see none of them.”
“Then let me help you. Miss Felicity herself was very much interested in you.” Saying the words was as difficult as seeing the evidence had been earlier. “She is smitten. Perhaps you can do something to encourage that.”
“I don’t—” he began again, but she did not allow it.
“Stop. Embrace the life you are meant to live.”
He gritted his teeth, his frustration clear on his face. “That isn’t what I want.”
Vivien all but collapsed with relief as she saw the carriage finally circling around in the drive toward her. She stepped toward it.
“Please, let me go,” she whispered, motioning the driver down to open her door. “It’s best for us both.”
She didn’t wait for his reply, but simply got into her carriage. As the driver closed the door and clamored back on top, she dared to look at Benedict out the window. Never before had she seen such a forlorn expression on a man and it made her want to fling herself from the carriage and into his arms. Even if it wasn’t the right thing to do. Even
if it would hurt them both in the end.
Luckily, the driver had no idea of her desire and the vehicle began to move before she could do something so foolish. Instead, she sank back against the leather seats and tried to remind herself that tonight she had crossed off something from her list.
That would have to be enough.
Benedict reentered the ballroom without seeing anything around him anymore. The din of the crowd faded to the background as he reached for a drink from a passing tray. He wanted to drown himself in something, anything, to make himself forget Vivien’s face as she drove away, leaving him behind. She had seemed…empty, something he had never seen in her before.
Worse was the fact that he had done that. Using her reputation to work against Dersingham had hurt her. He had never guessed that would be the case. After all, she had been the one to suggest how they bring her character into the discussion, and yet it was clear that being perceived as a lesser person…by Beecher, by his own brother…it cut her to the quick. It made her want to hide.
Why hadn’t he thought of that? Why had he only pictured her as the tough courtesan who never let anything past her façade. He’d always known there was more to her.
He downed the drink in one slug and was ready to look for another when he felt a hard tap on his shoulder. He turned to find Derek standing there, Jocelyn at his side. His brother looked frustrated. No, angry.
“Are you trying to destroy yourself?” Derek snapped, keeping his tone low even though the emotion in it was clear.
“Oh bugger off,” Benedict retorted with an apologetic look to the utterly scandalized Jocelyn. “What do you know about it?”
“You brought a…” He sent his own contrite look toward his wife. “A whore here to a public event when you are supposed to be in the process of seeking a bride. Do you not think that will cause you problems?”
Benedict moved on his brother. “Call her a whore again and I will make you pay for it.”
Derek blinked at him, his expression a combination of pity, disgust and anger. “She is what she is. If you asked her, I wager she would be blunt enough to tell you the same. Vivien Manning has always been a straightforward type, something I actually appreciate about her.”
“But little else,” Benedict growled. “Which is why you and your wife were so cold to her.”
Derek stared at him, stunned silent by his words. The look went on for so long that Benedict began to feel awkward beneath the regard. Intruded upon.
“I need air,” his brother finally said, his voice raw and rough. “Jocelyn?”
But to Benedict’s surprise, his sister-in-law shook her head. “You go. I will join you shortly.”
His brother hesitated, then jerked out a nod and stormed off across the room toward the veranda doors in the distance. Benedict just barely stifled a curse and sent a quick glance toward Jocelyn.
“I apologize for our bickering,” he said softly. “You do not deserve to be in the middle of such things.”
She smiled sadly. “I am going to be in the middle of them for some time, you know. Family squabbles are to be expected from time to time.” She moved a little closer. “Your brother only wants what is best for you.”
“Yes, and of course he knows what that is, better than I do myself,” Benedict grunted.
She tilted her head. “He believes he does, I’m certain of that.”
“Well, it is easy for him to judge,” he said on a sigh as his frustration began to fade in the face of her gentleness. “He has love.”
Jocelyn stepped back, her eyes widening. “You love this woman?”
Benedict pursed his lips. He had not meant to say it out loud, but there was no denying it now that it had been said. He had always loved Vivien. Sadly, he feared he always would.
“I do,” he admitted, watching her closely to see her reaction.
She had been so put off by Vivien a short time ago, not that his lover seemed to blame her for that. But now her expression became less uncomfortable, more questioning than judging.
“Forgive me, I am quite unsophisticated when it comes to these matters,” Jocelyn said slowly. “I have always been taught that men did not have those kinds of feelings for people like…like her.”
Benedict knew it was just that Jocelyn didn’t have an understanding or a label for Vivien, but her choice of terms irked him nonetheless.
“What does that mean?” he asked, trying to keep himself from being too unkind and harsh. “People like her? What kind of a person is she?”
Jocelyn shook her head. “Benedict, your tone is unforgiving, but you must acknowledge that a lady such as myself, a lady like most in this room, has been sheltered from the kind of society a person like Vivien Manning keeps. I am not trying to slur against her, but to do my best to label what I don’t understand.”
Benedict bent his head. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to take my frustrations out on you when they should be aimed at myself. You see, I hurt Vivien tonight by using the very reputation, the very shock of her presence that you describe.”
Her brow wrinkled. “To what end?”
He hesitated. That was far too complicated an answer. “To help her do something she asked of me. But I should have been more sensitive.”
“Are you certain you were not also using her to keep yourself from finding the bride that your family desires?” his sister-in-law asked softly.
He looked at her. The girl might be innocent in many ways, but not naïve. She clearly saw more than he had given her credit for.
“I do not deny that the side effect of that would not be unwelcome.”
She nodded. “Then I see how she could be hurt by it. No matter her character.”
“But you do not see that her character is not the same as her reputation,” he explained, wishing he could make someone in his life see what a vibrant and wonderful being Vivien was. “She has walked a path very different from your own, yes, and I must tell you that it has not always been by choice. But she has a heart. She has dreams. She has everything inside her that any woman hopes for.”
Jocelyn nodded slowly. “I suppose I had not ever considered that.”
He shrugged. “No one in our Society ever does, it seems. I think even she sometimes believes she isn’t the same kind of person as anyone else. That somehow she has been inherently damaged by her past.”
“I imagine that must be painful to her. And to you since you say you love her.” She said the words slowly and though Benedict could see he had reached her in some way, she remained shocked by it all.
He shook his head. “You needn’t worry about how her existence will affect yours, you know. Vivien makes it clear on a regular basis that she will never accept my love. My plans for the future remain unchanged. I will do what is ‘right’ and will be accepted by my brother and my family.”
Saying those words made his stomach turn. Yet he had no choice. To his surprise, Jocelyn did not look relieved by this declaration, but pained.
“Benedict,” she said softly.
He shook his head. “I have troubled you enough with these thoughts. You should go find my brother and enjoy what is left of your evening.”
“But—” she began.
“Please don’t worry yourself,” he interrupted with a false smile. “In the end, there is nothing any of us can do to change the circumstance. It isn’t your duty to burden yourself with my problems.”
She nodded, too slowly for him to believe she could wipe this discussion from her mind. Then she looked off toward the veranda and did as he asked by weaving into the crowd to seek out her husband.
He cursed as he took a second drink. Tonight had been an utter disaster when he had hoped it would serve as proof that he and Vivien could create a powerful partnership. Tomorrow he would have to work to salvage whatever he could…if she would even allow him that chance.
Chapter Fourteen
Vivien looked out her carriage window and was dragged back to the previous night, when her final imag
e from a very similar window had been of Benedict staring after her as she left him behind after the ball. She had dreamed of that moment all night, waking up sweating as thoughts of him tortured her instead of allowing her restful sleep.
She opened her reticule and pulled from it the list of loose ends in order to remove her mind from that other, far more unpleasant subject. Today she had other things in mind than dwelling on what she could not have.
No, today was about continuing to move forward in the future. Despite the fact that it had ended badly, last night she had done what she had set out to do. Her spies had reported that Beecher had refused to announce the engagement to Dersingham’s son and had actually broken the engagement right in one of the parlors at the gathering, much to Dersingham’s public humiliation. If Benedict was correct in his assessment of Dersingham’s finances, he was currently on the path to destitution.
Crossing off her duty to “destroy someone evil” was very satisfying indeed.
And today she would complete another task, as well as give herself a stern reminder about how to control her heart. The carriage stopped and she reached over to fetch the small parcel she had brought along with her. As the door opened, she smiled at her driver.
“Thank you, Greenley. I should be at least an hour if you would like to visit your sister at the Warren residence. It is only a few doors down, is it not?”
He smiled. “Yes, miss. Thank you, miss. I’ll get the carriage situated and I will take a walk down there as you suggest.”
She patted his hand, then moved up to the house she had once known so very well. The first time she visited here, she had been terrified, but it had eventually become a safe home for her. The first one she’d ever really known.
The door opened before she could knock and she was led to a parlor by a cheery housemaid. The place had been redone since her time here. The walls had been repapered and the furniture was fresh and new. Time marched on, no matter what.
A fact proven even further when the door to the parlor opened and the Duke of Sandcombe entered. It had been only ten years since their affiliation, but he had aged twice that number of years since. Illness made him thin, grayed his hair, stooped his back. Tears flooded her eyes at the sight, but she blinked them back, knowing he would not wish for, nor appreciate her pity.
Her Perfect Match: Mistress Matchmaker, Book 3 Page 11
