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CHAPTER TWO

An amused expression filled Vivienne’s face as she watched Penelope talk excitedly to her friends. Tonight was the first of two balls that would take place during the house party. Her daughter was beyond thrilled to be celebrating her betrothal.

Vivienne wished Penelope had waited one more year to find a husband, but she had been adamant that William was her match. While Penelope had firmly refused to have another season, she’d at least fully embraced the current one, attending countless balls and delighting in the thrill of it all.

When Vivienne was on the marriage mart, she’d attended one ball her first season and proceeded to fall hard for Henry.

Now, she realized it had been the excitement of someone wooing her.

She sighed. She’d been so young and na?ve.

Worry still resided in her that Penelope was too young, but at least they agreed to a year-long betrothal.

If any issues arose, there would be time to reconsider.

She smiled as one of the guests greeted her on the way to the dance floor.

Her gaze shifted to a broad-shoulder man, grinning wickedly at Lady Carrington.

Vivienne’s stomach clenched as she watched Michael.

They’d only spoken once in the last two days since the house party began, and it was like any of their other encounters—discussions about the weather and family.

The need to have a deeper discussion with him thrummed through her. She suspected it was because, unlike in London, there was no reprieve from seeing each other at a house party. Michael had slept with half the married women in the city, and he’d never even approached her.

When they were eighteen, he’d told her that she was making the wrong choice by marrying Henry and then she’d never had a real conversation with him again.

Yet, he could so easily speak with every other lady of the ton with an ease that was causing something to simmer within her.

She would not be upset. They’d both made their choices.

Lady Carrington giggled loudly, and Vivienne frowned. His sister, Ester, joined her. She glanced at Michael. “He is an awful rake.”

Vivienne forced herself to smile. “He seems happy.”

Michael’s sister snorted. While Vivienne had also grown up with Ester, she was four years older than her and Michael. During childhood, that had seemed drastically different. “Michael has always been good at appearing unbothered about everything except you.”

A blush bloomed on her cheeks. Ester stared at her knowingly. Vivienne shook her head. “You are mistaken.”

“Yes, a man who charms everyone but the one woman he wants is perfectly normal. He’s a fool, but so are you.”

“I—”

Ester didn’t give her time to finish; instead, she motioned to her brother and said, “Michael, join us.”

He turned to her, smiling but stiffened when he saw Vivienne. Annoyance flared in her once again. Excusing himself from Lady Carrington, he joined them.

“I was just telling Vivienne that she is the host of this ball, and she hasn’t danced once,” Ester said.

Vivienne’s startled gaze flew to her. That wasn’t what they were talking about. She winked at her slyly. Michael nodded and reluctantly said, “May I have this dance?”

“A waltz is next. It's a lovely dance for two old friends,” Ester said, rocking with excitement.

She couldn’t refuse him, so she took Michael’s arm. They made their way out onto the dance floor and allowed the music to sweep them away. To be so close to him was disconcerting and also energizing. He twirled her in a spin and muttered. “Damn Ester.”

Vivienne, still smiling, whispered, “Am I that awful to be near?”

His gaze flew to her face, and he bit out. “No.”

“You are considered a silver-tongued rake, and yet with me, I get surly Michael.”

Anger flashed in his eyes, and he didn’t respond.

They continued the dance, heightened emotions swirling between them.

When it finally ended, Michael bowed and escorted her from the dance floor.

He looked as if he would flee, but instead, he shocked her and leaned in close.

“There was a time when you were the only woman I ever wanted to talk to, and you chose another.”

“I was eighteen, Michael,” she whispered back, furious, before walking away.

Michael watched Vivienne gracefully glide away from him, but he could tell by her rigid posture that she was furious.

What did she want from him? Perhaps she thought they should be friends?

The thought seemed ludicrous. Yet, guilt coursed through him because she was right; he did treat her differently.

He strolled out to the terrace, surprised to find her alone. She gazed out at the darkened gardens. Michael joined her. “How would you like me to treat you?”

Vivienne’s startled gaze flew to his face. “It doesn’t matter, Michael.”

“Maybe it does.”

Vivienne was quiet for a moment, but eventually she turned to him. “Why have you never once tried to seduce me? You are one of the most talked-about rakes in London.”

He pressed his lips together, slightly taken aback by her question. “You were married.”

“I assumed, like all of London, you knew that we lived separate lives. You didn’t think to reach out to me. The man who told me on the cusp of my marriage that I had chosen the wrong person.”

“I’m no one's second choice, Vivienne,” he said harshly.

She turned to him, her eyes filled with anger. “That is a lie. You have no problem seducing other married ladies.”

“Those ladies aren’t you,” he snapped.

Vivienne leaned in closer, and his eyes dipped down to her plump lips. Why were they so damn kissable? He hadn’t allowed himself to think about this woman in any type of romantic way for years. Yet, standing out in the moonlight was messing with his head.

“I’m not married now,” she said breathlessly.

“I still have no desire to be your second choice when you were my first.”

His words startled them both. They revealed hurt feelings caused by broken promises of young adults who had taken different paths. Michael had wanted her with every fiber of his being, and she’d chosen another.

“It isn’t so simple. I have missed you all these years.”

His hand slid down her side, lingering on the curve of her hip. With one tug, he could pull her into the darkness of the terrace and kiss her like he wanted, but they stood there instead, staring at one another.

“Mother, the wedding is off,” Vivienne’s daughter said, stumbling onto the terrace with watery eyes.

They jumped apart. Michael glanced at the distraught girl. Vivienne said, “Let’s go to the library and discuss it.”

He took a deep breath, trying his best to recover from their moment. “I will speak with Michael. We will get to the bottom of this.”

“There is no changing my mind,” Penelope said stubbornly.

Vivienne’s eyes widened in alarm. “Come with me now, Penelope.”

Michael strode into the ballroom. What happened? He spotted a distressed William speaking with Ester in a corner of the room. Sighing, he made his way to them.