Lady Vivian (Almack's Assembly Rooms Book 1)

by Agnes Forest

  “Do you expect me to take all those clothes to the beach?” Vivian asked in dismay.

  “These gowns couldn’t possibly fit you any longer,” Fanny replied. Without intending to, she was cleaning out Vivian’s closet.

  “But I treasure them,” Vivian protested.

  Georgette looked pleased. Perhaps she would inherit some of them.

  “Here it is!” Fanny said, finding the swimming costume.

  “Marvelous,” Georgette exclaimed.

  Vivian wished to protest, but held her tongue. She did need to get out of the house, and perhaps some youthful female companionship would do her right. When a girl’s heart was breaking, she could not rely on books alone.

  Vivian made her way downstairs.

  “Goodbye, father,” Vivian said in the hallway.

  “You sound like you’re leaving for good,” Lord Benedict said in dismay.

  “Yes, I may float out to sea and never return,” Vivian replied.

  Lord Phillip was nowhere in sight, and Vivian was glad for it. She had been sequestered to her room for so long that she scarce knew whether or not he had been in the east wing at all. Maybe he was gone for good, just like Sawyer was gone for good, and the birds had stopped singing and the flowers had stopped growing and the world was ending.

  “You’re wearing black,” Lord Benedict said in dismay. It was true. Vivian had worn a black cotton gown.

  “I’m in mourning for my life,” Vivian replied. Lord Benedict began to laugh, and Vivian became agitated.

  “It sounds like something from a play,” Lord Benedict said.

  “Oh no, father. It is very real, I assure you.”

  A knock on the door was heard, and Vivian turned her head towards it. She sprung back to life instantly. Was that him? Was Sawyer paying a call?

  As it turned out, it was a gentleman delivering milk to the kitchen. Milk. How pathetic. Vivian became glum again.

  “I’m worried about you,” Lord Benedict said. “You’ve been up there for days.”

  “I must admit that I have not been feeling well,” Vivian explained. Lord Benedict tenderly placed his hands on Vivian’s shoulders.

  “Daughter, let me impart something to you,” Lord Benedict said.

  “You mustn’t,” she replied, sensing what was coming.

  “I’m as sad as you are.”

  That was hard to believe.

  “I enjoyed the soldier’s company as much as you did.”

  That was even more hard to believe.

  “But it is perhaps that his ardent nature was only momentary. As I observed the interaction between Lord Phillip and the lieutenant. . .” It was wildly memorable, past question. “I could see that the soldier was intimidated by Lord Phillip’s standing, and became aware of how unreasonable his plight was.”

  If Lord Benedict was seeking to cheer Vivian up, it wasn’t working, because her heart sank even deeper.

  “All of this is to say that, perhaps the man lost interest, child.”

  These were the worst words that her father could say. Even Lord Benedict knew that it must be painful to hear, but he had rather his daughter experience pain than marry someone with no money.

  “Father, your words are dreadful,” Vivian said, wishing that he would stop.

  “But doesn’t it just prove that Lord Phillip has been the solution this entire time? Hasn’t Lord Phillip’s interference in the matter shown that he is the one that is right for you? Clearly, the soldier has become disillusioned and backed down. He has forgotten of you entirely and moved on to another girl. Maybe he was courting several girls at the same time - all wealthy - and has decided upon one that is shorter, or more plump.”

  Lord Benedict was serving up a hot dish of venom. This was the reality for a father that was given the task of raising daughters on his own. Often, when they needed milk, he gave her vinegar.

  “I’m going to the beach,” Vivian said, unable to endure her father’s council for a moment longer.

  “That’s the spirit,” Lord Benedict replied, finally removing his hands from her shoulders.

  The carriage ride to the beach was done in silence. Vivian looked out the window and continued to mourn for her life. However, she couldn’t help but be distrustful of her father’s words. She still had to believe that there was something real and good betwixt her and Sawyer. She felt it so strongly. Vivian could see it in his eyes on that afternoon in the garden. He had even kissed her cheek! Lord Benedict had tried to write Sawyer off as unreliable, or even worse, some kind of gigolo or rake. No, Vivian could not believe it. The soldier came across as being too sincere and true. Something else must have happened, and she wished to know what it was.

  Fanny watched her young charge and felt helpless. She did not like to see the lady sulking so. For her own part, Fanny had enjoyed the soldier’s company as well, but that glittering afternoon was some kind of chimera of the imagination. Nothing could come of it. Lady Vivian couldn’t possibly marry someone that offered no social advancement. The very notion of it was absurd.

  “Lord Phillip payed a call at breakfast and looked dashing,” Lady Fanny said, trying to sell him, as it were.

  “I’m sure,” Vivian replied, still looking out.

  So, Lord Phillip had been there after all. Vivian had not come across him that morning, and it was the only good thing that had happened to her in days.

  “He wore a fine green coat,” Fanny explained.

  How absurd, Vivian thought to herself.

  While Fanny continued extolling the virtues of Lord Phillip in a desperate attempt to cheer the girl up and convince her that her fate wasn’t so bad, Vivian drank in the countryside. The road towards the sea was ripe with beauty. It cheered Vivian up. Seagulls flew across the sky, sea mist was in the air, and salt collected on her cheeks. Maybe Fanny had been right; the ocean would do her good.

  The water glistened on the horizon. The sunlight played upon it, as though dancing on the surface. The light broke into a million different pieces and sparkled like a perfectly cut jewel. Vivian felt the warmth of it upon her face and smiled.

  “There now, you see?” Fanny said, seeing Vivian’s demeanor change. “A perfect day for the beach. You’ll be good as new in no time.”

  They arrived at their destination and alighted from the coach. The sound of crashing water filled the air. Yes, Vivian’s spirits were lifting.

  “Hellooooo there!” a cheery voice cried out, and Vivian looked over to find Lady Elizabeth Danvers, smiling and waving. She looked so happy and filled with life. Vivian could remember the feeling.

  “Good morning,” Vivian said, waving her hand as well.

  “What a marvelous day. The water must be warm,” Lady Elizabeth added.

  Elizabeth was dressed in a happy yellow gown, the color of sunshine. She carried a little basket of treats and beach essentials, and her hat was tied neatly under her chin. For her own part, the excursion was a wonderful opportunity to escape her own chaperone. Upon receiving the invitation to attend, she argued with her father that since Vivian’s chaperone would be in attendance, Melvina, her dreaded governess, might be able to stay behind. He agreed, and Elizabeth was delighted by the notion of a day of freedom.

  “If only Lady Sophie could be here, but I’m afraid that she had a rather pressing engagement at the milliner’s today with Lady Blythe and could not attend,” Elizabeth said.

  In truth, neither Lady Sophie nor Lady Blythe had been invited, but such as it was, Elizabeth liked to talk of them at every possible opportunity. In fact, she liked to talk of anyone that came to mind.

  “Such a pity,” Vivian replied.

  “Yes, I know. They are fine companions on any occasion. We attend the opera at least once a week.”

  “I have always wanted to go,” Vivian replied.

  “Oh, you should. If only to see how the gentlemen are arrayed,” Elizabeth replied.

  At first, Vivian was skeptical that she might endure the endless chatter of Lady
Elizabeth, but she found that once the girl calmed down, so did her tongue, and her presence became rather agreeable.

  “I brought sandwiches,” Lady Elizabeth said, holding her straw basket aloft.

  “Most kind,” Fanny replied, still intent upon the vanilla custard that was sold at a nearby stall.

  The ladies unrolled a blanket upon the sand and seated themselves.

  “It’s remarkable, the crashing waves. Reminds me of a painting,” Elizabeth said.

  Vivian loathed that Elizabeth had even mentioned the word. Painting was now forever associated with Sawyer in her mind.

  “Ahhh,” Fanny said with delight, lying down in the sand.

  “How are you getting along with Lord Phillip?” Elizabeth asked, cutting to the chase.

  “Whatever do you mean?” Vivian replied. It was too soon to confide in Elizabeth, for fear that anything she said would end up in the gossip pages.

  “I was under the impression that you two were a match.”

  How dreadful. Vivian had expressed to Lady Elizabeth at Almack’s that she and Lord Phillip were very much not a match. How much more explaining would she need to do?

  “Lord Phillip is not for me,” Lady Vivian said.

  Sensing the parade of honesty that was about to roll by, Fanny excused herself and procured her custard. The girls took out their sandwiches and brought matters to light.

  “So, you do not love him?” Elizabeth asked, rapt in Vivian’s story and eating ham and gruyere.

  “I never have. The match has been forced upon me for some time.”

  “But I simply don’t understand it,” Elizabeth said, looking out towards the sea. “Everyone believes Lord Phillip to be unquestioningly remarkable.”

  “None have seen him behind closed doors. He’s an absolute bore and a brute.”

  “A brute, you say?” Elizabeth replied. “How ghastly.”

  Despite the five scones, Vivian found herself enjoying her sandwich and the presence of Lady Elizabeth. It seemed that, once one opened up and showed their true feelings, Elizabeth became the perfect confidant. What a revelation. If only someone could pull Elizabeth from town, the ton, and Almack’s more often. They might then enjoy the sweetness of her true nature.

  “Oh, if only you could see the way that he eats. How he quips with my father, and the absurd apparel that he wears to the breakfast table,” Vivian went on.

  “So curious, how someone can seem one way and then prove themselves to be something else entirely,” Elizabeth mused.

  “You’re quite right. Everyone presents something on the surface, in order to hide what lies beneath.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Elizabeth said. For her own part, sitting and chatting over sandwiches with Lady Vivian was a revelation, as well. The girl seemed so relaxed and natural, and it was something that Elizabeth was not at all acquainted with. She was accustomed to the pageantry of Lady Sophie, Lady Blythe, and the like.

  “I am in love,” Vivian said.

  She perhaps was saying too much. Vivian didn’t know what provoked her to speak so plainly. Was it the sea, the fresh air, the sandwich? One could never tell.

  “Truly?” Elizabeth said, her blue eyes opening wide. A breeze had picked up and blew into the lady’s flaxen curls.

  “Yes, with a soldier,” Vivian explained.

  “The soldier from Almack’s?” Elizabeth exclaimed, dropping her sandwich in the sand. “Oh drat,” she said, attempting to salvage it.

  “Yes, he paid a call some days ago,” Vivian went on bashfully. She was vulnerable speaking of it in Elizabeth’s company.“Oh, but he is so handsome,” Elizabeth said in wonder.

  “He is not favored by my father,” Vivian went on.

  “Certainly, he stands in the shadow of Lord Phillip.”

  “There was a quarrel over it. Lord Phillip and the lieutenant went head to head, or so I’m told. I went to my room with a headache.”

  “Yes, I always get a headache in such situations,” Elizabeth corroborated.

  “And I haven’t seen him since. I’ve never felt so low,” Vivian explained.

  “You mean the lieutenant?”

  “Yes, Sawyer.” Vivian said his name aloud and it filled her with both excitement and sadness.

  “Lieutenant Sawyer Cook, yes,” Elizabeth said. “Lady Sophie spoke of him.”

  “She did?”

  “Oh, yes. She saw the two of you dancing and went on and on and on about Sawyer Cook, the war hero with the newly attained commission. She explained that he has a lovely, rather rustic home in Bedringham court with a pond.”

  That was rather a lot for Lady Sophie to know, but Vivian was not surprised. Lady Sophie knew everything, and spread information like wildfire.

  “That is all accurate,” Vivian said.

  “She also mentioned that Lieutenant Cook was engaged to be married and lost the lady whilst overseas,” Elizabeth went on.

  Vivian was amazed at how Elizabeth talked of things so freely, without an ounce of censorship.

  “He told me that tragic story, as well.”

  There was silence, as Elizabeth considered her tale. Vivian was well-aware of Elizabeth’s own plight, and her story was of the same color.

  “I felt for the gentleman,” Elizabeth finally added. There was sadness in her voice.

  “I marvel at how the heart is able to endure such things.”

  “The heart does what it must,” Elizabeth explained. “At first you think that it won’t endure, and with time, it comes back to life. But the memory never leaves you.”

  The ladies listened to the crashing waves and the gulls overhead. Off in the distance, Fanny was gorging herself on custard and didn’t bother to procure any for the two young ladies. For the entirety of that afternoon, Fanny would pretend as though she had no duty to anyone, whatsoever.

  “Do you miss him?” Vivian asked.

  “I think of Lord Tracy every day, I must admit,” Elizabeth said. “It’s funny, really. I had this entire life planned out in my mind. I could never conceive that something so ghastly should happen. It was as though fate took my plans and threw them out there, in the sea, where they promptly sank to the bottom,” Elizabeth explained.

  “Oh, Lady Elizabeth,” Vivian said, placing her hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. She had never seen Elizabeth so candid. She wished that they had shared confidences sooner.

  “Life does not always go to plan. I can say that with some certainty. Once the news came from the Americas that Lord Tracy was gone, I became a new person. Entirely unrecognizable to myself. I was instantly swept up in the world of society; balls, teas, operas, the theater! Oh, it was so much fun to get lost in it all. But sometimes I fear that I’ll never get out.”

  “What do you mean?” Vivian asked.

  “You weave this web of luxury and refinement, and then you’re trapped. I should like to marry a fisherman and live in a shack.”

  Vivian began to laugh uncontrollably. To hear Lady Elizabeth Danvers, one of the most beautiful young ladies in town and a bit of a fashion plate, say that she wished to marry a fisherman was far too amusing.

  “What is so funny about that?” Elizabeth asked.

  “It’s just that . . . Vivian paused for more laughter. “I would never imagine that you would harbor a secret desire to marry a fisherman.”

  “Sometimes I think that I engage in all the gossip because I hope that society will come crashing down,” Elizabeth said.

  “Oh, but that is too funny,” Vivian said, laughter continuing.

  “I suppose it is,” Elizabeth said with a little smile.

  “I’m rather enjoying myself,” Vivian said.

  “I do believe that the soldier will return,” Elizabeth said, becoming contemplative.

  Vivian stopped laughing, and was filled with a wave of hope.

  “Do you?”

  “Yes, I sense it keenly. I have intuition about these matters. I think that he will return and ask for your hand.”

&nbs
p; “Nothing would make me happier.”

  “You must have patience. But don’t sit around and wait for him. That’s the worst possible thing that a lady of your stature could do!”

  “You have made an excellent point,” Vivian replied. Yes, it was true. She had been moping around for days, stuffing herself with pastries and waiting for Sawyer to come and win the day. What foolish nonsense on her part. Had Lady Elizabeth suddenly become the voice of reason? What an absolute shock.

  “I have seen it one too many times. Something dreadful happens, and we ladies grieve around for days, months, years on end! What we really should be doing is living to the fullest, no matter what nonsense comes our way.”

  “Lady Elizabeth, I’m beginning to believe that you should be paid in pounds for your company because I feel transformed,” Vivian said.

  “Buck up! Seize the day! Long live the King!” Elizabeth said, rising to her feet and standing in the wind, elevating her hands towards the sky and facing the sea. Elizabeth was now being humorous, but Vivian delighted in her enthusiasm and pluck.

  “I agree to that. Carpe diem!” Vivian cried, standing and facing the sea as well.

  Fanny returned to their little plot on the sand just then, and eyed the girls with suspicion. They were acting peculiar and Fanny didn’t know if she could ever leave them alone for a second. She had custard on her chin and felt sleepy.

  “A pox on society!” Elizabeth yelled, rushing towards the water.

  “Damn these skirts!” Vivian cried, running beside her.

  The two girls ran to the shore and kicked the water, screaming. Even though it was a warm day, the water of the British channel was still considerably cold.

  “What about your swimming costume?” Fanny hollered, holding it up to view. It was all for naught, because the ladies were not paying attention to her. They were too busy splashing one another, giggling, and enjoying their freedom.

  Vivian’s heart was filled yet again. Friendship, laughter, and sand had revived her, and she was ready for whatever the future may hold. Yet, still, she had to admit that she wished the future would contain Sawyer Cook.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sawyer sat at the card table, not knowing which game he was playing, who he was playing with, or what the devil the point of it all was. He had paid no mind to his coat, his boots, or his hair. In general, Sawyer had checked out.