Page 26 of A Lady’s Guide to Scoundrels and Gentlemen (The Harp & Thistle #1)

T he last rooms of the Mayfair house were closing as Vivian set to depart the following morning for Summerwood. Father would be traveling with her. Bernard and Anne, in their separation, had agreed to split their time at the cottage. As Anne remained close to Vivian like a sister, Vivian insisted she continued her stay at Summerwood each year.

The first half of the summer season was granted to Bernard while Anne stayed home with the children, and halfway through, they would switch. Instead of the children going to Bernard’s lodgings at the baron’s, though, he would return home as long as Anne wasn’t there. Doing it this way was least disruptive to the children. And it kept up appearances to the aristocracy as well.

Vivian wished she could see her niece and nephew. But her father, who came up with the split-time idea, thought it best for the children to stay in familiar surroundings while they adjusted to the new version of their family. Vivian didn’t disagree.

However, it was all for later consideration because the present day was a rather important one. It was also Dantes’s departure day as he was now well enough, though still slightly weak. However, that wasn’t why the day was so important. That had to do with their engagement.

Vivian and Dantes were regaled to the library, as the drawing room had already been shuttered, the furniture covered to protect it from dust.

They weren’t quite sure how long the absence between them would be, but it would be at least a month. A sense of dread had been eating away at Vivian, getting stronger as each minute went by, but she did her best to ignore it.

Dantes watched Vivian flit back and forth like a hummingbird, preparing armfuls of books to pack in her overnight trunk. There were already books at Summerwood, of course, but she had a few mainstays she read each summer and wanted to ensure she had them on hand. And she was adding The Count of Monte Cristo to the list As Vivian set the books down on the corner of a large, oak desk and prepared to hurry back for more, Dantes wrapped an arm around her waist, lifted her up, and perched her on the edge of the desk. She elicited a small shriek of surprise that turned into laughter.

“Nothing will happen if you forget one or two books, Viv.” He wrapped his strong arms around her, and she closed her eyes to listen to his heartbeat.

Being away was going to be difficult. They were in the throes of a new romance, where even a few hours apart felt like an eternity. Maybe she was trying to run from that thought. “I know. I always worry right before going on a trip. Worry I’ll forget something important, worry I’ll leave an entire trunk behind, worry, worry, worry.”

“Everything is already packed up,” Dantes promised in his comforting voice. “Now, I want to be selfish and have you pay attention to me.” He punctuated this by showing her an over-bright smile.

She giggled and returned to burying herself against him.

“It’s going to be hard with you being away so long,” Dantes admitted. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you, too.” She was trying not to think about it too much, though, as she was already feeling emotional as it was.

“But we will be together again at the end of summer,” he added with a promise. “And, we will be able to officially post the wedding banns.”

Her throat feeling tight, she nodded against him but couldn’t lift her head to look him in the eye. It would hurt too much.

The clock indicated their final hours together were flying by, and Victor and Ollie were moments away from bringing Dantes back to Victor’s. As Vivian checked her reflection in a small mirror, making sure her eyes weren’t giving away the distress she felt, Dantes reached into his pocket and pulled out the black lace scrap. With it over his hand, he cupped her chin and tilted her face toward him for another kiss, then gently rubbed the lace behind her collar, where she applied her perfume. He pulled the scrap away and brought it to his nose and smiled at her.

“You still carry that with you?” Charmed, she grinned to his reflection.

“Sometimes, yes, but I will each day you’re gone. I find it comforting, like a part of you is with me. I’m sure that sounds ridiculous coming from a grown man.” His hand dropped to his side, but he continued to rub the lace between his fingers.

“I don’t find it ridiculous at all. I find it rather romantic, rather. When I miss you I’ll think of you with my lace.”

Previously, they had promised to exchange letters twice a day like they used to, though instead of getting their letters the same day, it would be a few days between replies, but that didn’t matter. As long as there was daily correspondence, they were sure they could get through the difficult absence.

“Whatever happened to that dress?” Dantes asked, referring to the gold ballgown. “Did you really burn it?”

Satisfied nothing was giving away her inner turmoil, she faced him. “No. I couldn’t bear to get rid of it and put it in storage. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with it, but I’ll find a purpose for it at some point.”

Heaton appeared to inform Vivian that Victor and Ollie had arrived. She left the library, with Dantes following, and met them in the entryway not far from where the carpet had been torn up, the full replacement planned while the house would be empty. Now that Dantes was better, it didn’t bother them nearly as much as it once had, but it was still hard to look upon the place where Mr. Wegner had saved Dantes’s life. With purpose, Vivian led them all into the receiving room because of the carpet, though there was no usable furniture.

Victor and Ollie exchanged a vague, confused look.

“Before we leave…” Dantes said to his brothers, who had both tensed, no doubt realizing something was amiss. “We have something important to share with you.” Dantes glanced at Vivian, and she gave him a nod to go ahead. “After summer, we’re getting married.”

Ollie let out a whoop and immediately hugged Dantes, then Vivian. “See? I told you!”

Victor remained the usual grump, but Vivian caught a small twinkle in his eye as he shook Dantes’s hand. “Congratulations. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“What do you mean?” Dantes asked.

Victor placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I was sure you were going to muck it up.”

“Thanks for the confidence.” Dantes couldn’t help but offer a sideways smile.

Ollie gave Vivian a reminding nudge, as if she could possibly forget all about it.

“Dantes.” Vivian’s voice was full of excitement. “I have a surprise for you before you leave.”

His brow furrowed. “A surprise? What is it?”

*

When the carriage rolled to a stop in front of the National Gallery, Dantes was at a complete loss. He had no idea what Vivian had planned, but based on the excited whispers between Vivian and Ollie, whatever this was, they were both the architects. He shook his head in amusement, feeling really lucky in the moment that his soon-to-be wife got along so well with his brothers.

Wife.

The thought sent his hardened heart singing. He truly hadn’t believed a woman would ever love him, would ever want to marry him. He knew he was a bit rough, gruff, that he had an unorthodox lifestyle of fighting and owning a pub, especially to a high-society woman.

While thinking this, he rubbed a palm over his scar, thinking back to the day it had happened. It had taken a while to get here, but as long as it had always led to Vivian, he would do it again and again. And to his surprise, he realized that yes, that even included getting slashed with a blade. After all, that was part of his story. Part of his life. For the last twelve years, he had wished it hadn’t happened. Wished it wasn’t upon his face. While he would still get rid of it if he could, if it hadn’t happened to him, he may not have met Vivian. Vivian, the most perfect fit for him.

Their plan in telling family about their future wedding was to tell his brothers today and her family in Brighton whenever he arrived, hoping somehow Lady Litchfield could be there for the announcement, too. Lady Litchfield was still Vivian’s family, Vivian insisted, even with the separation. He wanted her to tell them and get it over with, but she argued it was important he be there for the discussion. And she was right, he knew she was, but deep down, it would make him feel better. He still didn’t like the fact that Tewksbury was going to be there when Dantes wasn’t. He knew it was a foolish fear, as he trusted Vivian completely. But he was still a man, and he just plain didn’t like his future bride being so far away from him for so long while another man lurked nearby.

This time next year, they’d be preparing to leave together. He kept having to remind himself of that.

After climbing out of their carriage, Vivian took his hand and led him up the stairs to the entrance of the museum. Oddly, when they arrived at the desk, everyone seemed to recognize both her and Ollie, even joking with his brother as if they were friends. But he was completely floored when they went through back doors and up to the third floor, without anyone escorting them. They walked into a large, high-ceilinged room with what seemed like hundreds of windows. Dantes noted numerous worktables with paintings lying on top, others propped up on easels.

“Did you…buy me a painting?” The thought was spoken out loud. Could one even buy a painting from a museum? Maybe for a high price? But weren’t they often on loan?

Vivian only responded with a giggle.

Dantes kept looking around with increasing curiosity as Ollie told them to wait there before crossing the room with an easy and casual gait, as if he belonged there, as if he dropped by all the time. Ollie approached a woman seated at one of the desks, her focus homed in on something lying across the tabletop. Upon hearing someone approaching, she looked up and removed magnifying eyeglasses from her eyes.

Ollie leaned down into her ear to say something, and she tore a look in their direction. First, her eyes studied Victor, then Dantes. Finally, she exclaimed, “Oh!” as Ollie continued to speak low. And when he stopped talking and pulled back, she rose to greet them.

This seemed to be Vivian’s cue because she looked up at Dantes, her face filled with child-like excitement, and she led him forward with Victor following.

“Dantes, darling.” Vivian indicated toward the woman when they came face to face with her. “This is Miss Evelyn Sparrow.” The woman did a proper little curtsy. “She works for the museum’s conservation department; her specialty is in paintings. Miss Sparrow, this is Mr. Edmond McNab.”

Everyone looked at him expectantly, as if he were supposed to understand why this woman was being presented to him. “And?” Dantes replied slowly, still confused.

Vivian shifted. “She’s restoring your paintings that were damaged in the fire.”

It took a moment for him to fully comprehend what she was saying. His paintings? From his flat? The paintings he didn’t like anyone to see were now here under scrutiny of one the most prestigious art museums in the world? This woman whom he didn’t know was going to be inspecting and judging his dreary collection, in extension judging him? Dantes suddenly felt exposed, vulnerable, like some deep-seated humiliating secret had been thrown out to the wind for the entire world to laugh at. Panic set in and his palms began to sweat.

“She is what ?” That last word hit hard, like two stones slamming together. Miss Sparrow’s proud smile immediately fell away and she seemed to shrink.

He could feel how severely his face twisted from fury, but he didn’t care. This was a major violation of his privacy. Surely, the woman who was supposed to marry him, and his own brother, would have known better!

Vivian swallowed and shot a brief look of concern to Ollie. “Dantes—”

But as she was about to launch a defense, a horrifying thought crossed his mind. This was the Met. How had she gotten them to agree to this? It wasn’t like someone could waltz in and hire them for this kind of service. And it wasn’t even one mere painting—he had several. Surely, it would take quite a long time to restore the collection. He interrupted her. “Vivian, how much are you paying them to do this?”

The room stilled.

“Vivian.” He ground his teeth together. “How much did you have to offer the museum to get them to agree to restore my paltry art collection?”

She straightened her back and lifted her chin. She knew there was no ignoring this. “Three thousand pounds.”

“Three….” His hand slapped to his forehead. “Are you kidding me? What were you thinking?” This question was given to both Vivian and Ollie, the pair looking like children caught trampling their mother’s flower garden. “What gives you the right to do anything with my belongings without my knowledge?” But this next question was directed at her. “Did it not occur to you to ask me before you did this? My God, Vivian, three thousand pounds !” Not sure what to do with himself, but needing to move, he began to pace away. But he quickly doubled back. “This is foolish, Vivian. I didn’t ask you for your help. I don’t need your help. I can take care of my things by myself. Do you think because you have endless money now, you can do everything for everyone? That anytime I or we need help, you’ll come save us?”

Vivian’s bottom lip began to quiver as she let out a tiny whimper.

“ Dantes .” Victor’s deep voice cut in, no doubt attempting to stop him for a moment to calm.

But Dantes wasn’t having it. “Victor, don’t even get involved in this. Do. Not.” His eyes were sharp with warning, and Victor took the hint by placing his hands behind his back and looking at the ground.

“I’m sorry.” Vivian’s small voice shook. “I knew how much it all meant to you. I was so scared after what happened and…and I wanted to do something for you!” In her rising anger at his reaction, her voice strengthened. “And how dare you tell me what to do with my own money! I like to help people I care about—there’s nothing wrong with that! This was meant to be a gift. And it isn’t only to support this incredible department, but the museum as a whole. Are you against gifts now? Gifts with a good, charitable purpose?”

“If it costs three thousand pounds, yes , I’m against it!” He buried his face in his hands and let out a frustrated sigh. “Why do you do these things? First your brother’s gambling debt.” Though he would accept the part of that he was owed, not from her.

His eyes met her unblinking glare. Boy, was she boiling mad. “You helped us get a loan for the fire, let us live with you for a time, helped me recover under your roof with nurses and a physician paid for by you, and now this? Did you ever stop to think maybe it’s embarrassing I have to work myself to the bone to reach those amounts while you merely sign off a check and you’re done?”

“You had no problem agreeing to help me in order to get your wager money in return!”

Dantes inhaled deeply through his nose and turned his eyes up to the ceiling. “That’s not why…” He rubbed his forehead. She was getting him off-track. “Why do you do all of that?”

“Because I love you!” She shouted back immediately. And in the seconds that followed, her face contorted from shock to fear to indignation.

It felt like the floor had dropped out from under Dantes and he was falling, falling.

No.

No, she had not just said that. Surely, he hadn’t heard her right! But Ollie’s and Victor’s obvious discomfort confirmed his fear. And at the back of the room, Miss Sparrow and two men huddled over a large book, seemingly doing their best to be invisible.

Dantes’s hands dropped to his side as his heart seemed to stop beating, the room now so quiet, he could hear a conversation outside, three floors below.

“You swore to me you would never say that!” His voice was rapid with panic. “Do you remember what happened only a few weeks ago?” He gestured between himself and Ollie, who looked rather eager to disappear.

But Vivian stepped up to him with defiance, though her face was etched in pain. “Yes, well, I’ve already said it to you. When you were feverish. And I nearly let it slip every single day. I tried, Dantes, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore that I love you. You’re asking me for something that is quite literally impossible. I can’t do it and I won’t do it anymore. I’m sorry.”

“I forbid you from saying those words, Vivian.” Elation from the fact she felt this way was drowned out by mortal fear. “I don’t care how ridiculous you think it is, the bad luck is real, and the words are cursed. You’ve witnessed for yourself what happens!”

A haughty laugh came from her. “You forbid me?” She crossed her arms and opened her mouth as if she were about to continue speaking but decided against it. Instead, she took a deep breath. “I’ve said my piece and will not discuss it further. Miss Sparrow, thank you,” Vivian called out to no particular direction. And without saying goodbye, without looking at Dantes one last time, she walked past him and left, though she did give a curt nod to Ollie and Victor before doing so.

Dantes remained as still as a statue, listening to her clicking footfalls fading away into the depths of the museum until a distant door opened and closed. He ignored his brothers, who smartly kept quiet, and went to sit in a nearby vacant chair to turn away. Low, indecipherable discussion from Miss Sparrow and her colleagues filled the thick air.

The desk had a large, dark painting on an easel, the background black and the foreground a hazy vase filled with flowers. Amongst the flowers of various darkened but bold colors, there was one white rose. He stared at the infernal flower for a long, unblinking time. Beyond the terror that pounded into his heart, a pain began to rise, like someone was squeezing it and ripping it out of his body.