Page 18 of The Lady and the Lion (Victorian Outcasts #9)

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A fter five hours of preparations, which included a bath, styling her hair in a complicated chignon, and donning her new Worth gown, Vivienne was finally ready for the dinner party.

“You look lovely, my lady,” Dobkins said, draping the train nicely.

The ivory-coloured silk enhanced Vivienne’s eyes, and the coiffure left a few curls falling over her lightly rouged cheeks. Dobkins helped her arrange a delicate shawl on her shoulders.

Mother entered the bedroom; her black gown was in stark contrast to her pale cheeks.

“How are you feeling?” A high note crept into Vivienne’s tone.

“Better.” Mother’s voice sounded drowsy. “So we’re all going.”

“It’ll be a lovely evening.”

No reaction changed Mother’s features. “Remember to apply the sage salve under your nose. It kills germs as you breathe.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“I’ll ask Lady Acton to give you a seat close to the fireplace. The fire will keep the air around you clean.”

Where did Mother get those ideas from? “Of course.”

“Your hair is lovely, and—” Mother frowned, regaining some of her colour. “Why aren’t you wearing your diamond bracelet? I asked Gilbert to take it from the strong room.”

“And I told him there was no need. I lost it.”

Instant shock flashed across Mother’s face. Finally, a reaction. “Excuse me?”

“I wore it while I was riding, and it must have fallen without me realising it.” She hoped her voice didn’t quiver too much.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I hoped to find it. I’ve been searching the park ever since.”

Mother paled again and sat on the edge of the bed, gathering her black gown around her. “Is that why you went to the park every day?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You put your life in danger for a bracelet.” Mother reached out to take her hand. “Your health is more important than a diamond bracelet. I could have sent someone to search the park. You didn’t need to breathe that poisonous air.”

It was with an effort that she remained silent. Her instinct was to shake Mother by the shoulders and beg her to stop believing every stupid claim the quacks she listened to said.

“There’s no evidence the air in the park is poisonous.” Her tone sounded low.

Mother was flustered but didn’t argue. A good sign, perhaps?

A half an hour later, the drive in the carriage was a quiet one, with Mother holding the silver box for dear life.

Father held Mother’s hand. “Why don’t you put the box away, darling?”

“Why do you always ask me to do that? I don’t want to get rid of it.”

“You can’t spend the evening with that box in your hands.”

Mother clenched the box more tightly.

“And couldn’t you wear something else other than black?” He rubbed the spot between his eyebrows.

Mother pressed her lips together, and a silent tear slid down her cheek.

As much as Vivienne agreed with Father, seeing Mother so upset broke her heart. She squeezed Mother’s hand, but Mother didn’t acknowledge her as if there were an invisible barrier between them, as if Mother were trapped in her own world of pain, unreachable.

“I didn’t want to come,” Mother whispered.

“You need to spend less time listening to doctors and more time with the living.” The furrows between his eyebrows deepened.

They remained silent for the rest of the drive.

Lord Acton’s house swept into view when they turned a corner. Lights glowed around it and from within, turning it into a shiny, giant diamond. Despite herself, she stared up at the magical building in awe.

A short queue of carriages slowed them down. Through the window she saw the many footmen who helped the arriving guests from their carriages and up a flight of stairs covered by a red carpet.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

Father tugged at her gloved hand. “I would like to see you meet someone you like. Lord Acton’s son is a clever young man, and there are other gentlemen I would like you to meet.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” She didn’t sound enthusiastic to her own ears.

Under other circumstances, she would have enjoyed meeting new people, but since Samuel was in her life…Captain Jackson’s words echoed in her mind.

She still secretly believed they would find a way to be together, but Samuel’s peace of mind and health were more important.

Mother wiped her tears discreetly. “It’s too early for Vivienne to have a suitor.”

“Not if she wishes to have one,” he said.

“Please don’t argue.” She took one each of her parent’s hands in her own. “Not tonight.”

He patted her cheek, and Mother nodded.

It took them half an hour to actually enter the drawing room for drinks before dinner.

Between the slog of the carriages, the crowded entry hall, a trip to the powder room to refresh her hair and gown, and the endless introductions and greetings, she was exhausted before she held a drink in her hand.

As her gaze swept around the wide room, she spotted several young women her age next to their eager mamas.

She smiled at each introduction although Mother’s black gown attracted a lot of attention and grim comments.

Lady Acton gave Mother an assessing glance, lingering on the black gown. “Jane, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Mother jutted her chin out. “Mary.”

“Many guests tonight,” Father said in a cheerful tone. “I don’t believe I know the gentleman over there.”

“Oh, he’s a new friend of mine. Dr. Tucker.” Lady Acton stopped a passing footman. “Ask Dr. Tucker to come over here.”

Vivienne groaned inwardly. Not another blasted doctor.

Dr. Tucker walked over to them, limping badly. His beady black eyes didn’t reassure her at all.

The light from the chandelier glinted off his bald head when he bowed. “My lady.”

Lady Acton beamed. “Lord and Lady Huntington, and their daughter Lady Vivienne, this is Dr. Robert Tucker. He’s recently arrived in London from overseas, but has quickly become the favourite physician of many of my friends.”

“My ladies, my lord.” Dr. Tucker’s gaze lingered on her for a brief moment.

Mother was staring at the physician with interest.

“Dr. Tucker has worked at some the most prestigious clinics on the Continent,” Lady Acton said. “He’s an expert in medicinal herbs and homeopathic medicine from the Americas to the Far East. There’s nothing he can’t cure.”

Vivienne exchanged a desolate glance with her father. She could bet he was thinking the same as she.

They’d just met Mother’s new obsession.

For the whole dinner, Vivienne hadn’t stopped thinking about Samuel’s visit.

At first, she’d agreed with enthusiasm to his proposal and defended it against Captain Jackson’s complaints.

Walking at night might be dangerous for him, but the captain would protect him, and she had no doubt he was a good climber.

But now, as she sat on the edge of her bed, waiting, the risks of Samuel being caught climbing to her room were real.

Also, she worried about what he would think of her opulent house.

Huntington Hall had belonged to a few generations of Huntington earls; it was loaded with precious carpets, porcelain vases, and priceless paintings.

Mayfair was the area where dukes and earls lived…

and for the first time in her life, she’d been self-conscious of that.

What if Samuel became overwhelmed when he saw the imposing, white-walled houses, the manicured gardens, and the many tall windows? She looked down. The Worth gown was lovely, one of her best, but it looked ridiculously extravagant now.

He would think she was too different from him, that they came from two different worlds, which was true; he would think they shouldn’t see each other.

She sat on the edge of her bed in a froth of ivory-and-golden silk and massaged her temples.

Too many thoughts crammed her brain at the same time.

Her emotions pulled her in two different directions.

She wanted it all—to be with Samuel and keep her place in society, which was selfish of her.

Samuel’s happiness was more important than anything else.

If staying close to her caused him pain, then she would respect whatever he chose to do.

“I’ll help you undress, my lady,” the maid said.

“No, not now. You may retire. Thank you.” She glanced at the window, wondering if Samuel was already there.

The maid dropped a quick curtsy, narrowing her gaze, likely upset because she would need to brush and press the gown the next morning while she wanted to put it away now.

“Anne.”

The maid paused at the door. “My lady?”

“I’ll hang up the gown.”

The maid gave her a slight smile, acknowledging Vivienne had read her mind. “Thank you, my lady.” And she closed the door.

Vivienne crossed the room and locked the door. She’d asked Dobkins not to be present. Nothing untoward would happen, and the captain would wait for Samuel on the street.

But her time spent with Samuel was precious. She meant to give him as many good moments as she could.

A rock pinged against the glass.

She opened the window, shivering as the cold winter night caused her skin to pebble. The clouds hid the moon, so she stuck her head out.

“Samuel?” she whispered.

When he waved from the tree branch right in front of her, she suppressed a gasp.

He was almost invisible in his dark clothes.

She stepped aside to let him enter, and he landed on the floor with a soft swoosh.

It was too late to change her mind.