Lady Vivian (Almack's Assembly Rooms Book 1)

by Agnes Forest

  We’re desperately in need of that, Vivian thought to herself.

  “And what of blue?” Vivian asked, because it was the color that she was wearing.

  “New beginnings.”

  “Pink?” Lord Benedict asked.

  “Family,” Sawyer explained.

  “Yellow?” Vivian asked.

  “Terribly bad luck,” Sawyer replied.

  “Purple?” Lord Benedict asked.

  “Royalty and prosperity.”

  “Black?” Fanny asked with a horrible frown on her face.

  “There are no black flowers,” Sawyer replied.

  Fanny knew that was true, but she was trying to make a stink. Oh, why did she feel sour all the time? Perhaps it was the sausage that afternoon that left her stomach in a lurch.

  “You know a great deal about flowers,” Vivian remarked, immensely pleased.

  “I grew up planting them as a very young boy on the farm,” Sawyer said.

  “The farm?” Lord Benedict asked.

  “I was raised on a farm,” Sawyer said. “But only for a short while. I enjoyed a more proper upbringing after that interlude.”

  Fanny’s indigestion went from bad to worse. What was before a small bubble of pain had turned into an attack.

  “I must lie down,” she said, excusing herself from the room. She went in search of digestive bitters.

  “Truly?” Vivian asked in wonder, desiring to learn more.

  “Yes. It was all that I knew for many years,” Sawyer admitted.

  Lord Benedict began coughing.

  Vivian sensed tension, and wished to amend it.

  “Have you seen the grounds?” she asked, referring to Stockwood Park.

  “Only the exterior,” Sawyer replied. And that was enough to strike fear into the heart of any man.

  “Might I show you around?” Vivian asked, looking to her father for support.

  Lord Benedict was still reeling from the whole farm business. He was caught off guard.

  “You may,” Lord Benedict said, the words feeling like chalk in his mouth. “But only with Fanny.”

  What ensued was painful and humorous. For not only did Fanny have no desire to chaperone the lady and her soldier, but she also had such a turn of the stomach that the journey was painful both emotionally and physically.

  Imagine, if you can: the beautiful young pair strolling along, rapt in one another’s company, and all the while they were followed by a bilious, cantankerous, miserable Scottwoman plagued from head to toe with wind. The great charm of it was that Vivian and Sawyer were entirely unaware of the suffering woman who lay in their wake.

  “Here is the library,” Vivian said.

  “Extraordinary,” Sawyer replied. It was one of the most remarkable libraries in South Downs, and that was not just a matter of opinion. Books reached up towards the ceiling, and one had to use a sliding ladder to reach things. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, depicting clouds and angels.

  “I would imagine that you spend a good deal of time here,” Sawyer added.

  “It’s fine in the winter, but during the warmer months I much prefer the garden for reading,” Vivian replied.

  Off in the distance, Fanny gave a little moan of pain.

  Sawyer imagined Vivian sitting in his own garden, reading her book and gazing off towards the pond. He longed to see that tableau come to life.

  “Speaking of which . . .” Vivian said, leading Sawyer towards the veranda. She pushed open the doors and they were greeted with a wave of sunshine.

  A bluebird landed on Vivian’s shoulder. An actual bluebird came down from the sky and landed on her shoulder and she was embarrassed. She marveled at how perfect the estate was, and had jested with herself that one day a bluebird would land on her shoulder and that was the day.

  “Oh heavens,” she said.

  “I can scarce believe it,” Sawyer replied.

  I wish to be dead, Fanny thought to herself.

  The bluebird did not linger, but rather, flew away, and the tour continued.

  “We have fresh vegetables that the servants use for supper,” Vivian explained, walking through the rows of cabbage, cauliflower, and peas.

  “How novel,” Sawyer. What the devil did I say that for? There’s nothing novel about using vegetables from the garden.

  “And here are the peaches,” Vivian explained, pulling one from the tree. “You can eat them even in spring,” she added, taking a juicy bite.

  Things took a turn. Sawyer enjoyed the delightful tour. It was all so lighthearted and gay. But once Lady Vivian took a bite of that peach and the juice from it rolled down her chin, Sawyer was grateful for the sour chaperone. To be alone in Vivian’s company at that time would be uncivil. His thoughts were ungentlemanly.

  “Would you like one?” Vivian asked, in regards to the peach.

  “No, I thank you,” he replied, clearing his throat.

  The tour continued and Sawyer wished to God that there would be no more fruit, but his wishes were not granted. Vivian proceeded to not only eat a juicy peach, but also a handful of blackberries that stained her lips, two plums that splattered upon her dress - thank heavens it was dark blue - a ripe tomato that stained her nose, and even a cucumber.

  By the time Vivian was done with her produce, she looked like she had rolled in paint. The picture was so alluring and disarming that Sawyer was in need of a cool bath.

  “Shall we continue?” Vivian asked.

  “Please,” Sawyer replied, assuming that she was referring to the tour.

  “Vivian!” Lord Benedict cried from the veranda.

  “Yes father,” Vivian replied, lifting a hand to veil her eyes from the sun.

  “Be sure to return in time for supper. We have guests tonight,” Lord Benedict added.

  By guests, he meant Lord Phillip. How terrible to even mention that scoundrel when Vivian was so happy. She would brush it off. No need to feel down and blue in light of present company.

  “Yes, father,” Vivian replied.

  “Would you care to step into the maze?” Vivian asked.

  “Will we ever come out the other side?” Sawyer asked.

  “Let’s leave it to fate,” Vivian said mischievously.

  They entered, and Fanny was convinced that it was the worst day of her life. Why had she become a chaperone? She was in the most impossible position imaginable. Surely, the young folk would find a way to escape her, and heaven knows what wickedness they would be up to. Her job was impossible and she longed to return to Scotland. At the very least, she hoped that the fit of dyspepsia might pass in time for supper.

  “It’s remarkable,” Sawyer said, admiring the construction of the maze.

  “You wouldn’t believe all the work that my father put into it. He designed it himself. All these years and I have still not mastered it. But as soon as my father steps into the maze, he’s well practiced in every twist and turn.”

  “Admirable,” Sawyer replied, thinking of how satisfying it was for a man to know every twist and turn. Unlike his own position, where he did not know where the path might lead. “I should like to show you my own home. I think that you might find the grounds pleasing. At least, I hope.”

  Vivian found his humbleness admirable.

  “Do you have a maze?” she asked.

  Oh, you silly tart, she thought to herself. It was something that Lady Sophie Langton might say. Or Lady Elizabeth. Do you have a maze? How utterly birdbrained.

  “I am not impressive enough to have a maze, but there is the flower garden. And the pond.”

  “I love a good pond,” Vivian replied, still kicking herself. “I wish that we had one.”

  “Ponds are endlessly entertaining.” Now Sawyer felt ridiculous, as well. “There are ducks and frogs, and during the winter months you can skate upon it.”

  “Oh, but that must be marvelous fun,” Vivian said.

  “It is until you fall in,” Sawyer added.

  “Fall in?”

  �
��Yes, there was once a time when I plunged into its depths.”

  “Oh heavens,” Vivian said in shock.

  They continued to stroll through the maze, unaware of Fanny’s presence. The chaperone lingered in her misery. No worse fate than getting lost in a labyrinth when one might need to run to the privy.

  “Yes, it was a fine winter morning. The grounds were blanketed in white and my hounds were delighting in the snow.”

  “You have hounds? I was never allowed to have them,” Vivian remarked.

  “A shame, really,” Sawyer added. “I was not skating upon the pond that day but went to retrieve Lancelot, my beagle, who had wandered upon it to retrieve a stick.”

  “Lancelot?” Vivian said with delight.

  “Yes, you shall meet him,” Sawyer said, and continued. “So, I walk upon the pond to retrieve Lancelot, and it wasn’t until I reached the middle that I heard a crack.”

  “Oh Lord,” Fanny said. Even she was interested in the story. Sawyer turned to the chaperone and was amazed by her presence. He had forgotten she was there.

  “Do go on,” Vivian said.

  “So, I hear the crack and within seconds I was submerged.”

  “What did you do?” Vivian cried, bringing her hands to her cheeks.

  “The shock of the cold was disorienting. At first I just froze, literally. Then, the need to stay alive filled me and I swam to the surface, looking for the hole.”

  “Did you find it?” Fanny said in shock. It was a silly question, because had he not found it he wouldn’t have been standing there that day.

  “At first I did not. I could see the sky, but everything that I touched was solid ice. I pounded upon it, and could even see Lancelot hovering above me, trying to break through.”

  “He couldn’t manage it?” Fanny asked. Vivian looked to her chaperone with a frown.

  “Unfortunately, the beagle was not able to break through, no,” Sawyer replied. “I pounded on the ice with my fist, to the point of drawing blood.”

  “No!” Vivian cried. The image of ice and blood and a half-dead Sawyer was all too much.

  “The blood was so voluminous that I was blinded.”

  It was becoming too macabre for Fanny and she turned away.

  “But I had to keep trying. Biology dictated that it must be so. The pounding continued and finally, I broke through the ice with my mangled hand and pulled myself to safety.”

  Just as the business with the juicy fruit filled Sawyer with ardency, so the tale of breaking through the ice created stirrings within Vivian. She was enraptured.

  “How did you warm yourself?” Vivian asked.

  “For some time I jay lay there upon the ice. I could not move. Lancelot was licking my face, perhaps to warm me.”

  “Remarkable animal,” Fanny said.

  “Once I finally had sensation in my body, I crawled on hand and foot back to my home. The hounds were walking by my side, leading the way. I could finally see the world from their vantage, low to the ground.”

  “That’s why you’re so good with hounds,” Fanny said, a tear coming to her eye.

  “Well, I do know a thing or two about them. Once in the house, I sat by the fire for hours on end, warming myself. I didn’t even have the strength to boil tea.”

  “Unimaginable,” Fanny said. Oh, Fanny was so deep in the story that she imagined herself coming to the rescue on that day. Being in the kitchen and warming the kettle. Frying up some bacon and wrapping the young soldier in wool blanket.

  What is happening? Fanny thought to herself. She was falling for the lieutenant as deeply as her young charge. Oh, this will not do.

  “What a wonderful story,” Vivian said. She gazed upon Sawyer with admiration.

  “I guess that I misspoke when I said that you could skate upon my pond. In hindsight, that would be a rather bad idea,” Sawyer said, laughing to himself.

  Not only was Fanny convinced that she should never skate upon that pond, but she did not wish to even see it. She wouldn’t allow Vivian to go within one hundred paces of the dreaded body of water.

  “I think that we are lost,” Vivian said, looking about.

  “Somehow we will find our way,” Sawyer replied.

  The unlikely trio began to twist and turn through the maze, looking for the exit. Vivian had to marvel that in her eighteen years she was never able to master it.

  “I am grateful that you payed a call today,” Vivian finally said.

  “I told you that I would. I fear that I waited too long,” Sawyer replied.

  “Your timing was perfect. It seems that my father took a liking to you.”

  “We have much to discuss,” Sawyer replied.

  His response had a double meaning. They had many subjects to talk about; men being men. But there was also a far weightier discussion that Sawyer had in mind. He knew not when he was going to approach Lord Benedict with that discussion, but he hoped that it might be sooner rather than later. It all felt so urgent.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “No, we truly are lost,” Vivian said.

  Fanny was becoming desperate. Sawyer found the situation humorous, but did not show it for fear that it might make the chaperone angry.

  At the very least it was a beautiful day. The birds flew overhead in the bright blue sky, and the sunlight gleamed. Little flowers were budding from the hedge, and Vivian had picked one and put it in her hair. She looked like a woodland nymph and it pleased Sawyer greatly.

  “Judging by this hedge,” Sawyer said, inspecting the bush. “I am able to build us shelter from the branches, should the situation turn dire.”

  Vivian stifled a laugh.

  “Shelter?” Fanny exclaimed. How dreadful.

  “Yes the thatches can be pulled from the hedge and a roof may be erected. Judging from the sky, it looks like there’s no threat of storm, but we must plan ahead.”

  “I should have planned ahead and brought more fruit from the garden,” Vivian said, carrying on with Sawyer’s joke.

  “That would have been an incredible display of foresight on your part, Vivian. I’m displeased that you did not undertake it,” Sawyer replied. Each new addition to the joke carried even more weighty seriousness. Poor Fanny didn’t know what to believe.

  “I cannot stomach that much fruit,” Fanny replied.

  “In times like these, dear Fanny, we have no choice,” Sawyer went on. “Vivian, perhaps you should have considered collecting a great deal of vegetables as well, in order to erect a salad.”

  “Yes, a salad would have been advantageous. I’ll never forgive myself for having missed that opportunity.”

  “Oh, the two of you are vexing me!” Fanny cried. She could not tell if they were doing it on purpose or no.

  “We could build a fire and Lord Benedict will detect the smoke,” Sawyer said. “Surely he would be able to find us then.”

  Fanny stopped to consider this.

  “Lieutenant, I do perceive that you are making a fool of me,” Fanny said, finally aware of the joke.

  “Madam, I do not jest.”

  “Hmf,” Fanny said. Oh, how they were playing upon her nerves.

  For Sawyer’s part, unlike Lord Phillip, he rather liked Fanny. He found her wildly entertaining.

  “Enough of this nonsense, I’m going to get us out of here,” Vivian said, taking charge.

  “Madam, you lead, and we’ll follow,” Sawyer replied. He would follow the enchanting wood nymph anywhere. Even to the gates of hell. Hopefully, things would not become that sinister.

  Vivian wished that she could pinch herself. The adventure was so much fun, and to have Sawyer Cook following her through the hedge was a dream come true.

  “I think that it goes this way,” Vivian said, turning to the right. “Or rather, was it this way?” she asked, turning to the left. “I think it goes back here,” she said, turning again.

  “I’m dizzy with it all,” Fanny said.

  “Not since the siege of New Orleans have I been so
lost,” Sawyer said.

  “Truly?” Vivian asked.

  “Yes, we were traversing the Mississippi River, myself and a fellow named Henry.”

  “Whatever happened?” Vivian asked.

  Oh, another story! Fanny thought.

  “We focused keenly on our surroundings, adhered to our compass, and we prayed.”

  Fanny said a little prayer to herself.

  “And?” Vivian asked.

  “By the grace of God, I was able to find my way out of the marsh.”

  “And Henry?” Fanny asked.

  “He was eaten by a crocodile,” Sawyer replied with regret.

  “America,” Fanny said under her breath, and shook her head in disgust.

  “I think we’re along the outer wall,” Vivian said, holding her ear to the hedge. “I can hear the horses in the stables. Caelus! Do come and save us!” Vivian called.

  “Truly, you believe this to be the edge?” Sawyer asked.

  “I’m most certain of it.”

  They looked from right to left and did not see the exit.

  “Oh, but this is tiresome,” Fanny said. “I feel faint.”

  It was something that Sawyer did not like to hear a lady say.

  “Do apologize to your father for me,” Sawyer said.

  “Whatever for?” Vivian asked.

  “This,” he replied, and proceeded to beat the hedge to the ground. The bush toppled quickly, and that was their exit. Vivian was in shock but Fanny was impressed.

  “Marvelous,” Fanny said.

  “Ladies, if you please,” Sawyer said, allowing them through the exit first.

  “How chivalrous,” Vivian replied, stepping through.

  “I think that it’s an easy fix,” Sawyer said, regarding the hole. “Just a bit of replanting.”

  They had escaped. Vivian couldn’t be more pleased. What a remarkable afternoon. She wished that she was still trapped in the labyrinth, by Sawyer’s side. Albeit alone.

  “Not a moment too soon, as I fear if we were trapped in there any longer then we’d be late for dinner.”

  “We have plenty of time,” Vivian said.

  “With the way you fuss about, I’m afraid to think how long it will take you to perform your toilette before dinner” Fanny said.

  “Come along, then. Let’s see if there are sandwiches,” Vivian said, wishing to share teatime with Sawyer. They had not yet dined with one another - except for Vivian’s feast of fruit - and she wanted to see Sawyer eat. It sounds strange enough, but there is so much to be learned from the manner in which someone dines.