Her Perfect Match (25 page)

Lysandra worried her lip. “When you say that, it is so unkind to yourself. You are far more than just a mistress or a woman of a certain reputation. Your work with the charitable fund proves that.”

“And I appreciate that you both see me as more than what I am,” Vivien sighed. “But it is to no end. I cannot be with Benedict. It would destroy him and I…I care too much about him to live with those kinds of consequences for him. There is nothing else to be said about it.”

“I disagree,” Mariah said with a shrug. “There is a great deal more to be said.”

Vivien drew in a breath. She could sit all day with her friends, debating this subject. But there was one way to cease their ramblings on her love for Benedict.

“Perhaps there
is
more to be said,” Vivien conceded as she pushed to her feet and walked to the window. She couldn’t look at them when she told them the truth. “There are plans to be made, you see.”

“Plans?” Lysandra repeated with confusion.

She nodded but couldn’t turn. Not until she had confessed. “I—I am leaving London.”

Silence greeted her statement and she finally pivoted on her heel and looked at them. They were staring at her, neither one completely understanding.

“On a holiday?” Mariah offered.

Vivien’s breath caught. The words caught in her throat far more than she ever imagined they would, especially when Lysandra’s hands had begun to shake and Mariah seemed so utterly perplexed by the very idea.

“No. I mean never to return. I am
leaving
London for good.”

Mariah shoved away from her chair, flipping it over in the process as she staggered to her feet. “What?”

Vivien bit her lip. Her friend, her best friend, was trembling, her eyes filling with sudden tears.

“Please don’t make me say it a third time.”

Mariah shook her head and Lysandra slowly joined both women on their feet. Normally she was the sweetest one, the most innocent and the most emotional. But at that moment, she seemed utterly calm.

“Why are you leaving?” she asked. She reached for Mariah and took her hand, squeezing it for comfort when the two women faced Vivien as a united front.

Vivien sighed. She’d created so many stories in her mind of how she would tell her friends this news…if she told them at all. But right now, only the truth could make them see why this was not just a choice, but an imperative.

“I am in love with Benedict Greystone,” she admitted, every word stinging like fire across her heart. “But we cannot be together.” Lysandra drew a breath to protest, but Vivien shook her head. “Please do not argue, my dear, you cannot understand how much more painful your attempts to change my mind make this.”

Lysandra snapped her lips shut, pink darkening her skin.

“But why not just part with him, then, and stay in London as you have for nearly a decade?” Mariah asked in a shaky voice.

She shook her head. “On the night of my birthday, I realized something I had been denying for years,” Vivien explained. “I am not happy in this life anymore. In fact, I am very empty.”

Lysandra drew back. “I had no idea.”

Vivien shrugged. “Your ignorance was of my design. But as there is no way I could ever start again here, where my face and name are so well-known, I realized that in order to make a new life for myself, I have no choice but to leave.”

“You made this decision the night of your birthday and you said nothing until now?” Mariah blinked in utter disbelief. “Not even to us?”

Vivien drew in a shaky breath. “I made a list of things I must do, loose ends I must settle before I could depart London. You and Lysandra were very high on that list, I assure you. Celebrating you, spending time with you, letting you both know how loved and cherished your friendship has been to me over the years.”

Lysandra gasped as the first tears began to fall. “But you denied us that same time. Here we have been taking the hours we spent for granted, believing there would be hundreds, thousands more in a lifetime to share.”

Vivien shook her head. She could see she had hurt them and that had never been her intention.

“I’m so sorry. It is not in my nature to be open, to share my thoughts or my pains. To be truthful, I was afraid of your reaction, afraid you would try to convince me to stay here.”

“
Can
we convince you?” Mariah pleaded, her tears now sliding down her cheeks in waterfalls.

Vivien considered the question. In this moment, with the two women sobbing at the thought of her loss, it was easy to imagine there was some way to work it out. To remain in London and forget her unhappiness, her emptiness, to ignore the loss of Benedict and watch him marry with a false smile on her face.

The very thought made her chest feel hollow and her stomach turn. And proved that even the love of her friends could not erase or change the love of this one man.

“No,” she whispered, blinking at her own tears. “I’m afraid this is a decision I must make. I’ll be destroyed if I stay.”

Lysandra nodded, but Vivien knew she would. She was too sweet of temper not to let someone she loved go if they felt it was best for them. Mariah was another story. Jaded like Vivien, though not as completely, the two women had been close for years. And Mariah was far more likely to hate her for her choices.

Her friend slowly crossed the room toward her, pale face unreadable even as she moved just inches from Vivien. For a moment, she only looked at her, then Mariah tugged her in for a fierce hug.

“I would never ask you to do something that would cause you pain. If you must leave, then I have no choice but to understand,” her friend whispered into her hair as the two women clung to each other.

Vivien motioned Lysandra to join them and for a moment, they stood, arms around each other, crying in unison. Until Vivien pulled away with a laugh.

“All right, you ninnies, that is enough,” she said, laughing through her tears. “I shall not ruin my reputation of being a cold, jaded woman by sobbing over you.”

Mariah chuckled. “No one would ever ask you to.”

“When will you leave?” Lysandra asked, retaking her seat and wiping her eyes with a handkerchief she produced from some mysterious fold of her gown.

Vivien took a seat and frowned. “I had planned to spend a final Season here, celebrating my life and leaving an impression no one could forget, but now…now I think it would be best for me to quietly disappear soon. I have already procured a home on the continent that my solicitor says can be ready in a week. My staff has begun to catalog my things so that I can arrange for the removal of what I wish to take with me.”

“And what of the house?” Mariah asked. “Will you sell it?”

“There is a reason I brought this subject up during our meeting,” Vivien said with a smile. “You see, one of my items on my list of things to do before I left the city was to give away that which I don’t need. And I do not need that house any longer.”

Lysandra shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“I would like to donate it to the cause we have created together,” Vivien explained. “I think you two could make it a place where women in dire straits can come and live safely. Can you imagine if abused servants felt as if they had a safe alternative to staying in their situations? Or a woman carrying the shame of a child out of wedlock, forced upon her by a so-called gentleman, had a home she could run to? In short, turn my house of sin into a safe haven.”

Mariah shook her head, but her wide smile told Vivien she approved even before she spoke. “It is an amazing idea! But are you certain you won’t want to return to the house? Once it has been transformed, it can never go back.”

Vivien smiled. “That is the idea. For the house and for me.”

Lysandra let out a long sigh. “Then it is settled.”

“Yes.” Vivien said, but in the end the issue felt anything but. Telling her friends was a huge part, and lessened her guilt over keeping the secret even more.

But there was one person who was still in the dark about her plans. And she had no idea how to tell Benedict that it was time to let her go…this time permanently.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Benedict stood in the foyer of Vivien’s house, looking around in an attempt to see with new eyes. Now that he was focused on what could drive her to push him away, what could make her so afraid to embrace what she knew he could offer…all he could see were those reasons.

Vivien had made money in her life. From recent research, he knew that her first protector had settled her very well. A second had assisted her with investing the proceeds and given her an additional sum. A third gifted her with this home and suddenly a woman tossed out by her family after a rape had been transformed into an independent woman who moved in influential circles.

Was it that which kept her from him? Her independence?

Though he was certain she had concerns about surrendering the life she had built, that didn’t ring true. Independence would not create desperation.

“Good afternoon, sir,” Nettle intoned as he entered the foyer. “I am sorry I wasn’t here to greet you myself, but we weren’t expecting you. I’m certain the footman who answered the door told you that Miss Manning is not currently available for guests.”

Benedict shook his questions aside and prepared to play a role. “Ah, do not trouble yourself, Nettle. I interrupted the staff’s luncheon, I realize, and you are correct that I was not invited nor expected. But you see, I wanted to plan a special evening for Miss Manning.”

Nettle lifted his eyebrows slightly, but Benedict could see the approval in the servant’s eyes. Old Nettle had always been a good and dedicated man. It was too bad Benedict had to trade on those qualities to obtain a sliver of truth from the woman he loved.

“I see,” Nettle said. “And does this mean you wish access to her chambers, even though she is not home at present?”

Benedict nodded. “It does. A few nights ago, I spent time in her
real
chambers. Those are the ones I wish to access.”

Nettle’s face, which had been open with readiness to approve the request, now fell.

“Sir—” he began, tone polite yet firm with impending refusal.

“Ah, before you refuse me, I realize this is not a common request,” Benedict interrupted, playing his good-natured attitude very carefully. Nettle was suspicious and protective already—he would be too easy to set off and then Benedict would have nothing.

“No, sir,” Nettle responded.

“But the fact that I know of her chambers and have been in them, even spent an evening in them with her…that is uncommon as well, is it not?”

The butler shifted and Benedict could see his discomfort. Despite all he’d seen, the man remained uncomfortable with such direct references to his employer’s lifestyle.

“I only wish to do something for her,” Benedict pressed, and in that he was not lying.

She would be very angry when she saw he’d pried, but he wanted to be there for her. And he had to know the truth before he could make a case for that.

“Since you have been in her chamber before, I will allow it,” Nettle said slowly, his uncertainty still clear. “Do you require any assistance from the staff?”

“No,” Benedict said swiftly. “I will be able to prepare the room myself, thank you. You should return to your luncheon.”

Nettle glanced behind him toward the kitchen and the servant quarters through the door and down the hall. Benedict could see the longing in the other man’s stare. Vivien’s cook was known to be a marvel and the servant fare likely reflected that.

“Miss Manning’s maid was tidying her room just before luncheon,” he said. “And her chamber door is unlocked. You may proceed there.”

“Very good,” Benedict called after the man as he gave a smart bow and headed back to his lunch.

He chuckled and moved for the stairs. With the servants at their meal, it was quiet in the house and he moved without concern about who was watching.

At the door to Vivien’s chamber, he hesitated. Once he went inside, there would be no altering the violation of privacy he was about to commit. He could only hope it would be worth her wrath later.

He pushed open the door and went inside.

The bed was freshly made and the windows had been opened by Vivien’s maid so that a soft, flower-scented breeze came in from the garden outside. Sunlight hit every corner of the chamber, filling it with light and beauty.

He drew in a long breath and walked to the end table beside her bed where he had first seen the list. He doubted it remained in the vicinity, but it was as good a place to start his journey as any. He lifted the book and opened her drawer, but there was nothing to be found there beyond a pair of spectacles he’d never seen her wear but could be for reading.

He put everything back in its place and sighed. The room was spacious, with many places to hide something in the many drawers and crevices in this space and her adjoining dressing room.

He got to his feet and began to search. As he opened drawers and peeked into armoires, a feeling of unease crept over him. He was truly violating her trust by doing this and with every passing moment, he felt worse and worse about that undeniable fact.

And yet he was driven to complete the distasteful task. He was obsessed with the truth and somehow he knew that it would be found on the neatly written paper he’d caught a glimpse of a short time ago.