Maggie MacKeever (13 page)

In truth, Tabby welcomed an excuse to delay the meeting further. Perhaps in the interim she might think of what to say. “Very well,” she murmured. Vivien assisted her into the cabriolet. It was no less elegant on close inspection, upholstered in crimson velvet, complete with windows and blinds.

Nor was the cabriolet’s owner hard to gaze upon in his long silk-lined driving coat, which was embellished with several shoulder capes and secured across the chest by a double row of mother-of-pearl buttons. His white-topped boots were as excellently made as his high-crowned beaver hat and his York-tan gloves. He was glowering at her in a dreadful manner. Tabby sought for a light tone of voice. “What did you wish to speak to me about? It must be dreadfully important—or perhaps you are in the habit of abducting females, sir?”

It wasn’t his own habits that concerned Vivien at this moment, or his character. “How
could
you involve yourself with a cursed rum touch like Elphinstone?”

Tabby flushed at the realization that Vivien had found her out. No wonder he looked angry. Mr. Sanders would consider it beneath his dignity to flirt with a mere governess. “I had no choice,” she said quietly. “And you should not speak so unkindly of Sir Geoffrey. He has been very good to me.”

“Good?”
echoed Vivien in disbelief. “At least no one may say you are disloyal! But, my God! Why him?”

Tabby could not imagine why Vivien had taken such a dislike to her employer. “I had no choice!” she replied. “No one else offered me a place, even though I advertised. Believe me, I was very grateful when Sir Geoffrey’s man of business contacted me.”

The matter had been arranged by Sir Geoffrey’s man of business? The wench had
advertised!
Involved though he may have been in various escapades and scandals, Vivien had never heard of such a thing. So stunned was he by his companion’s disclosures that he failed to pay attention to the street. Consequently, some moments were spent extricating himself from a traffic jam. Once that was accomplished, he prudently turned onto a quieter road that led out of town. “Elphinstone,” he said grimly, “has much to answer for!”

Tabby could not care for Vivien’s tone of voice or for his angry expression. “If not Sir Geoffrey, it would have been someone else. My position could be a great deal worse! I wish you would tell me what is bothering you,” she added. “Because your ill temper is spoiling what I might otherwise have enjoyed very well. Since you know the truth, I needn’t pretend to you that carriage rides like this often come my way.”

How frankly she spoke of her detour from the straight and narrow path. Most of the high-flyers of Vivien’s acquaintance were not so candid. Not that his companion was remotely like any high-flyer Vivien had ever known. And why should she consider a carriage ride such a treat? Elphinstone was sufficiently plump in the pocket to own any number of carriages of his own. It was a strange man who would refuse to take his
petite amie
for an outing. “Elphinstone didn’t take you out driving?” Vivien inquired.

“Why, no, why should he?” Tabby thought Vivien certainly had an odd notion of a governess’s life. “You haven’t told me what you wished to speak to me about!”

“Ah, but I have.” For reasons he could not explain even to himself, Vivien was very angry at this point. “Let us put our cards on the table—Mrs. Quarles!”

“Mrs.—” Why should he call her that? Tabby remembered the gala when Vivien demanded she give him a name. “Oh! There’s been a mistake. I’m not—”

“I know exactly what you are!” snapped Vivien. In truth, his ill temper was due in some part to the knowledge that he had not been the one to introduce his companion to the fleshpots. “No wonder you seemed afraid of me. You were afraid I’d tumble to your little game!”

Tabby was bewildered. “Game?”

They had passed beyond the outskirts of town, and Vivien drew up his horse. “You needn’t try to pull the wool over my eyes; it won’t work! It’s not Lady Grey you’re dealing with now. You may be frank with me, my dear. How much will it take to buy you off?”

“You are acquainted with Lady Grey?” Tabby was relieved to have some light shed on the mystery. Lady Grey, she remembered, had had much to say regarding depravity and vice. “No wonder you think ill of me! It was a huge misunderstanding. Pray allow me to explain!”

Vivien turned to Tabby, grasped her shoulders. He didn’t know if he wished more to make love to her or to give her a good shake. “I said before that I’m not a flat, my dear! You may spare me your further Banbury tales.”

Tabby was horrified that he should think so ill of her. “But-”

“You mismanaged the business badly, did you not?” Vivien interrupted. “Lady Grey has cried off already, and nothing Elphinstone may do will cause her to change her mind.”

Tabby was growing angry in her own turn, though not due to Vivien’s opinion of Mrs. Quarles, which might well have been true. “You are eager to condemn your fellow man!” she cried. “That, sir, is very much like the pot calling the kettle black!
You
are a self-admitted rakehell, while Sir Geoffrey is a good and honorable gentleman whom Lady Grey has treated shabbily.”

Vivien did not care for this allegation. “We will leave my affairs out of this!” he snapped.

Tabby had no wish to discuss Mr. Sanders’s affairs until he forbade her to do so. “No!” she retorted immediately, “we shall not! You condemn Sir Geoffrey for a past liaison while you flirt with other women practically under your mistress’s nose! It seems to me that you are hardly qualified to judge any one else’s conduct, sir.”

Vivien had the grace to flush. “You don’t understand,” he said, somewhat feebly.

Tabby opened her eyes wide. “Then perhaps you might be good enough to enlighten me as to the difference!”

Vivien would have liked to do so. He was sure there must be a difference between himself and Sir Geoffrey, but he couldn’t think offhand what it might be. His thoughts were in a muddle, due to his very confused emotions concerning the female whose shoulders he still clutched. Moreover, he’d just realized that did she make this business with Sir Geoffrey public, it might give the divine Sara—as well as a number of other females of his acquaintance—some very unpleasant ideas.

“Let us speak without roundaboutation!” he said roughly. “How much do you want?”

So they were back to that. Tabby shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Vivien’s hands tightened. “Perhaps Augusta has played right into your hands.”

“Augusta?” Here was an unexpected intimacy. It seemed that Mr. Sanders and Sir Geoffrey’s bride-to-be were on very close terms. Tabby wondered now just who had played whom false. “Mercy! Is not Sara enough for you?” she gasped.

Obviously the divine Sara was not enough for Vivien, or he would not have currently been suffering torments on this devious creature’s behalf. He was not inclined to explain the matter in that light. “Don’t try to change the subject!” he retorted. “Let us call a spade by its proper name, if you please.”

Tabby was ordinarily a devotee of plainspokenness, but this situation called for a degree of tact. That gentlemen amused themselves with pretty actresses and opera dancers was a fact of life that Tabby could accept. But for the same gentlemen to go about seducing ladies of quality who were affianced to other gentlemen—well. Tabby was not so broad-minded as that. “Perry did not tell me the half of it when he warned me about you!” she cried. “He should have told me that you are the greatest blackguard alive!”

Vivien was uncertain how he had become the villain of the piece.
“I?”

“You!” Tabby blinked back angry tears. “If you were not intimately acquainted with Lady Grey, she would not have confided in you. She must trust you very much, I think. Certainly more than she trusts Sir Geoffrey. And she dared call
me
depraved! You told me you had to live up to your wicked reputation, but this goes beyond the limits of being acceptable!”

So it did. His companion thought he had seduced Gus? Vivien was shocked by the extent of the misdeed of which he had been accused. “The devil!” he said, and released Tabby. “Even I am not so wicked as
that.”

Tabby was bewildered by his horrified expression. Absurdly, she wished to offer him comfort. “I suppose there is not a great deal of difference between Lady Grey and Sara,” she offered. “Save that Lady Grey is a lady of quality who is—was—betrothed to someone else.”

Vivien frowned. “Can it be you do not know that Lady Grey is my sister?” he asked.

“Your sister!” echoed Tabby. “Oh! I thought—”

Vivien could not help but be amused by her embarrassment. “You thought that even Gus had fallen victim to my wicked charm. While I thought that you were accusing me of leading my own sister up the primrose path. So we both were mistaken, were we not?”

So they had been. For that matter, Vivien still was. His smile, at such close range, was dizzying. “I suppose I should not be surprised that Lady Grey is your sister,’’ Tabby murmured. “There is a certain rigidity in both of you, a conviction that your understanding could not be at fault.”

This blunt statement recalled Vivien to the purpose of this encounter. His smile faded. He was very disappointed that his Miss Nevermind should stoop so low as to try to blackmail his sister and very angry with himself for wanting her all the same. “You still have not told me your price.”

Tabby had not told Vivien a number of things. He would not believe her if she sought to do so now. “I don’t suppose it would do any good to ask you to trust me,” she sighed.

Trust her? Vivien was not so foolish. In fact, he wondered now if he had not already trusted her too well. “How cleverly you contrived to whet my interest,” he said bitterly. “You will laugh when I tell you I’ve scoured this accursed city for you, but to no avail. I could not find out where you lived, even when I had your name! I suppose you wanted a second string to your bow, in case Elphinstone refused to come up to scratch. You bungled badly, didn’t you? Don’t try to convince me that you had no idea other than revenge!”

Tabby was growing very tired of these accusations. “So now Sir Geoffrey is no longer a cursed rum touch, but I am, instead? Did I think you’d listen, I might try to change your mind—but the effort would obviously be a waste of my time!”

Despite himself, Vivien could not help but appreciate this display of temper and the way his companion’s brown eyes flashed. “Try me,” he said, and caught her wrist.

Tabby thought she would not. Let Vivien think her a blackmailing hussy. What difference did it make? He had no real feeling for her, or he could not have accused her of the things he had. “Sir Geoffrey is an honorable gentleman,” she repeated wearily. “He means your sister no harm. As for myself, I did not contrive to meet you, but I do not expect you to believe that.”

Vivien wished very much to believe her; and he wished as well not to be made a fool a second time. There was one way he knew to test a female’s true feelings. “What a coil this is!” he groaned, and drew Tabby into his arms.

It was a lovely kiss. The second was no less excellent, nor was the third. Lest matters grow entirely out of hand— they were in an open carriage, after all, on a public if little-used road—Vivien drew back. “Stop this nonsensical business and let me take care of you!” he said.

Tabby’s emotions were truly in a turmoil now. So well had she enjoyed Vivien’s embraces that she had briefly forgotten he believed her to be a demirep. Consequently, his offer made her furious, both with him and with herself.

Vivien mistook her silence for calculation. He could not blame her for weighing the advantages of the alliance he had offered her, he supposed. Or was she still thinking of Elphinstone? “You
are
free of all, er, previous entanglements, are you not?” he inquired delicately.

Tabby’s temper was mounting. “I am!” she retorted. “But I believe that
you
are not!”

Somewhat belatedly, Vivien recalled the divine Sara. “That needn’t concern you!” he replied. “Truth be told, I should have broken it off weeks ago.” He touched Tabby’s cheek. “Do you wish, you shall make me heart-whole in an instant,” he murmured. “You shall have your own house and as many carriage rides as you desire. Indeed, you shall have a carriage of your own! I mean to set you up in the best possible style.”

“Certainly you do!” retorted Tabby. “You are a man of substance, after all, a well-breeched swell! And one who is incorrigibly fond of the ladies, as well. Do you make the same promises to all of them? When you are desirous of mounting a mistress, you will promise anything?”

Vivien flushed at this plainspokenness. Clearly his companion was angry. He was unsure what he’d done to offend. He knew one way to stop her from talking such fustian. He reached for her again.

This time, however, Tabby was on guard. She boxed Vivien’s ears. While he was still cursing, she climbed awkwardly down from the carriage and set out across the hilly downs toward Brighton.

Chapter Fifteen

The hour was considerably advanced when Tabby limped up the steps of Elphinstone House, and her anger was largely dissipated by that time. She regretted her display of temper. Even though Vivien might have refused to listen, she wished she had attempted to explain. Now she would never know how Vivien might have reacted, whether he would have been sympathetic to her tale or whether he would have scoffed. No further opportunity for explanations would present itself, she knew. Vivien was clearly furious. Had he followed her, offered her a ride back to Brighton in his cabriolet, Tabby would not have refused. Instead he had driven off in the opposite direction without another word.

It was for the best, Tabby told herself, as she crept quietly up the stairs. Mr. Sanders thought her a woman of very low condition, after all. He would hardly have offered to set her up as his mistress otherwise. Tabby was not shocked by the suggestion, indeed half wished that she might fling her bonnet over the windmill as he asked. There was more of her mother in her than Tabby had previously realized. But to follow in her mama’s footsteps was unthinkable, would deny her uncle’s many kindnesses, perhaps even her papa’s untimely death. She was doomed to be conventional and upright.