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He flushed, strode to the door, opened it, and fixed his fierce look on Silvia. “You may leave. I wish to speak with her ladyship alone.”

“Over my dead body,” Silvia mumbled just loudly enough for him to hear.

He opened his mouth, and Vivian decided to step in before all-out war could ensue. She knew nothing about his lordship’s manner, but, as much as she appreciated her companion’s championship, she’d never seen her companion so exercised or rude.

In a calm, but unapologetic tone, Vivian said, “I asked Miss Corbet to remain with me.”

He glared at Silvia as if he’d argue.

“However,” Vivian continued firmly, “I do not believe I need to hear any more of your proposition, my lord. My answer is no. I have no desire to wed you. In fact, I have no desire to marry anyone ever again. Once was quite enough, thank you.”

As he stalked out of the parlor, he glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll speak to you again when you are in a better frame of mind, my lady.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Silvia spat at his retreating form.

His shoulders hunched then the door snapped shut behind him.

“What gall!” Vivian picked up her tea-cup, and took a sip of the now tepid liquid. “That was as unexpected as it was unwanted.”

“He’s an impossible, arrogant man.” Silvia fumed. “And always has been. He hasn’t changed at all. Having inherited the earldom will probably make him worse.”

“I’d forgot you and he were acquainted.”

“Unfortunately.” She scowled at the door. “He spent much of his childhood at the Abbey, and was always trying to tell my sisters and me what to do. How dare he stroll in here and think he could make a proposal like that!”

Vivian’s lips twitched. Suddenly the whole preposterous situation was humorous. After all, he couldn’t make her marry him. “I do recall that he did not call it a proposal, but a proposition.”

“Who made whom a proposal?”

Standing just inside the room was a tall woman in her late middle-age with bright red curls dressed in a gown the same color as her hair.

Her large bonnet appeared to hold a nest of birds.

Although her clothing was in the latest fashion, the hat, although new, was clearly from the style of the previous century.

“Cousin Clara!” Vivian jumped up and rushed to hug her relative almost tripping over the greyhound hovering next to her cousin’s skirts. “I didn’t expect to see you until next week. We didn’t even hear you arrive.”

“It’s all right, Perdita.” Clara picked up the dog and soothed the greyhound, petting the dog and cuddling it.

“I told your footman not to announce me.” Setting Perdita down, Clara returned Vivian’s hug.

“I assume this has something to do with the young man I saw stalking out of the house in a rage.”

“The new Lord Beresford apparently thought I’d make a good wife for him as I’m used to being Lady Beresford.

Silvia sent him away with a flea in his ear.

Oh, pray forgive my manners.” Not that Vivian had had much of a chance to use them in the past six years.

“Cousin Clara, this is Miss Corbet, who has been acting as my companion. Silvia, my cousin, the Dowager Marchioness of Telford.”

Silvia curtseyed. “I’m so glad to have finally met you. Vivian tells me you have great plans for her for the Little Season.”

“And for you as well.” Lines fanned out from Clara’s eyes as she smiled. “I understand that without your company this past year would have been unbearable for Vivian.”

“I don’t know about that.” Silvia glanced at Vivian. “We’ve always got along well, and I was happy to help her. Since my father’s remarriage, he was pleased I was out of the house.” Silvia’s fine dark brown brows furrowed. “Yet, I cannot accompany you to Town.”

Clara’s eyes opened wide. “Why ever not? I sincerely hope it is not because of your father, I already have his permission, and you are no longer acting as a companion. Therefore, there is no reason you should not have a come out.” She waited a moment for the news to sink in.

“Besides which, I’ve made all the arrangements.

We’ll have such fun. I’ve never had the opportunity to bring a young lady out.

Sons are not at all the same.” She removed her bonnet, and sat down on the same sofa recently vacated by Lord Beresford. “I wish to leave in two days’ time.”

“That soon?” Silvia gasped. “I don’t even know what to bring with me. I’ll require new gowns—”

“There is nothing to worry about.” Still holding the dog, Clara took a place next to her hat.

“From what I see, both you and Vivian need new wardrobes. In fact, I think we shall leave in the morning. There is no need to waste time. Besides, Perdita is ready to be home. All this traveling has upset her nerves.”

Or, Vivian thought ruefully, give her former companion time to find an excuse not to go. She, on the other hand, was more than happy to quit Beresford as soon as possible.

Vivian didn’t know how her cousin had arranged everything or why, but she was happy Silvia would finally have the Season she’d never had.

Her younger sisters were already married.

One to a wealthy young man of good lineage and fortune and the other to his friend the heir of a viscount.

Although, Silvia’s sisters had offered to sponsor her for a Season, she had declined stating that someone must remain with Papa and take care of him. An excuse she no longer had.

More tea arrived, and she busied herself fixing a cup for Clara.

Vivian’s thoughts turned to Lord Beresford’s reaction to her companion and Silvia’s behavior in response.

Sparks had definitely flown, and he had seemed not only angry, but embarrassed that she was present.

Was there something between them other than childhood animosity? If so, why had he proposed to Vivian?

The greyhound remained close to Clara, peeking out every once in a while from under her skirts. “Cousin Clara, when did you get a dog? I’ve never known you to have one before.”

Clara stroked the small animal. “We always had hunting dogs, but one of my nephews brought her back from the Peninsula and asked me if I wouldn’t mind keeping her until he found a new owner.

They stayed with me for a few weeks while he sorted out his business.

She and I just took to each other. I don’t know why I never had a house dog before. She’s an excellent companion.”

“I hope she likes cats. You know I’ve had my Gisila for years and cannot go anywhere without her.” Speaking of her cat, Vivian glanced around and found Gisila under the desk.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine. Perdita normally remains under my skirts. It’s amazing I don’t trip over her.” She turned her attention to Silvia. “Miss Corbet, as you will be residing with me, I believe I would prefer to address you as Silvia, and you may call me Cousin Clara.”

Silvia appeared slightly startled, not a state that happened often or easily. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You may think this is a strange start on my part.” Clara smiled gently. “But I knew your mother when she was a child and your grandmother was a close friend of mine.”

“I had no idea.”

While her cousin and Silvia chatted, Vivian strolled to the window seat.

For the past few months, just the idea of going to Town again had occupied her mind.

She had not attended a Season since her first one, and was both excited and frightened.

It had been much too long since she’d been around the haut ton .

At first, she thought merely to attend the smaller entertainments and the theater, now with Silvia coming out, Clara would insist on being present at the large balls.

Perhaps Vivian would be better served by remaining with the chaperones and older matrons.

That would be easier and less fearsome than worrying about dance partners.

The other business she must be about was finding a small estate.

Her mother had offered to bring Vivian home after her husband died, but she’d a feeling then that she could not go back to her parents, and nothing had happened to change her mind.

It was time to strike out on her own. To have a home where what she said was the law, and the sooner the better.

After all, that was all she could expect from her life.

Departing on the morrow was easily done and for the best. She stepped into the corridor, and found one of the maids.

“Please tell my maid and Miss Corbet’s maid that we shall require our trunks packed immediately.

Also, have Lady Telford’s bags placed in the green room, and inform Cook we’ll have a guest for dinner. ”

The maid bobbed a curtsey and hurried off.

Vivian slipped back into the morning room.

If only she was the type of widow who could take a lover, but what sane man would want a lady with a deformed body?

Her husband’s cousin could not possibly know about her problem, otherwise he would never have suggested marriage.

She supposed she should be glad Edgar had not discussed it.

Thankfully, her clothing covered the worst defect.

No, other than as dancing partners, gentlemen had no place in her life or rather they would not want her in theirs.