Page 48 of Someone to Watch Over Me
“Apologize to Vivien,” he repeated, his voice rising to a thunderous pitch. “But I didn’t sleep with her. I slept with you.”
“What if you had indeed slept with her as you planned? Would you feel sorry then?”
“No,” he snapped.
“Then you would not regret manipulating and deceiving someone if you thought he or she deserved it?” Her face was taut with disappointment and censure. “I would not have thought you capable of such ruthlessness and small-mindedness!”
“I said I was sorry, dammit!”
“But you’re not,” she replied gently. “You don’t regret having come up with your horrible plan…you only regret that you didn’t hurt the person you had intended to. And I could never love a man who behaves in such a manner.” It almost gave her satisfaction to watch him struggle to control his spiking temper. Closing his eyes, he somehow managed to stave off an explosion, although his color heightened and his jaw vibrated with a visible tic.
“It’s time to leave,” he finally said. “I’ve sent word ahead to Linley.”
Although Dr. Linley’s fashionable residence was within walking distance, Grant had ordered his carriage to be prepared. The ride was silent, uncomfortable, and mercifully short. Vivien glanced frequently at the huge, aggravated male in the seat opposite hers. Grant seemed to be in a state of battened-down consternation, more than ready to do battle—except there was no one to do battle with.
She suspected that he was considering their argument and silently debating the points she had made. She longed to say something else, to soften him with a few pleading words…perhaps even try to coax him into agreeing with her. However, she kept her mouth tightly closed. He must resolve this issue on his own. She knew that he had no liking for the real Vivien Duvall, but that didn’t excuse his own actions. A man wasn’t entitled to lie or take advantage of others merely because he didn’t respect them.
They reached Linley’s town home, one of a long row of Grecian-fronted residences adorned with immaculate white plasterwork and columns. Grant helped her from the carriage and escorted her up a small flight of steps, and they were immediately welcomed into the house by the butler. Dr. Linley awaited them in the library, a small but tidy room lined with oak bookcases and furnished with shield-backed Hepplewhite chairs and a matching table.
Greeting them pleasantly, Linley seated Vivien in an armchair by the fire. He smiled and brushed back a swath of blond hair that had fallen over his forehead. “Miss Duvall,” he murmured, “you are not feeling unwell, I hope?”
Vivien opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. She stared at him with hot color climbing up her face as it struck her that the main purpose of this visit was to discuss the unexpected discovery of her virginity, and its bearings on her case. How had she come to be in this ignominious position?
Regarding her with mild perplexity, Linley turned his attention to Grant, who was stone-faced. An inquiring glint shone in the doctor’s gray eyes. “I had to cancel two appointments because of the message you sent this morning, Morgan,” he remarked. “Would you care to explain the urgency of this visit?”
“There has been a new development in Miss Duvall’s case.” Grant half sat, half leaned against the edge of a heavy library table. “I assume you keep a file on each of your patients. I want to see Miss Duvall’s, with no detail omitted.”
“That file is only for my eyes and Miss Duvall’s,” Linley replied equably.
“It has relevance to my investigation.” Grant paused in visible discomfort, his nostrils flaring. “Tell me, Linley, when you examined Miss Duvall…was she a virgin?”
The doctor’s perplexed gaze flickered from Vivien’s downcast face and back to Grant’s. “Assuredly not,” he replied, tugging at the golden forelock that had slipped over his brow once more.
“Well, she is—or was, until last night.”
Silence descended in the room. The doctor’s face was carefully composed. “Are you certain of that?” he asked, contemplating them both.
Vivien flushed and refused to meet his gaze.
“I’m not a green lad, Linley,” Grant muttered.
Linley strove for a matter-of-fact tone. “Then this is not the woman I examined. Vivien Duvall was in the earliest stage of pregnancy. When I saw her at your house, I assumed she had either had a miscarriage or had rid herself of the baby. I observed that there was no longer any enlargement of the womb and no bleeding. It was not my place to comment on her decision. And I wasn’t looking for evidence of virginity.”
“Christ.” Absorbing the information, Grant glanced at Vivien. Her obvious lack of surprise at the news caused his green eyes to narrow suspiciously. “You knew,” he said. “Somehow you knew about the pregnancy.”
“It was probably Lord Gerard’s baby,” she said. “He told me while we were talking in the garden last night.”
“Why the bloody hell didn’t you tell me?”
“I knew what your reaction would be if you thought I had deliberately ended the pregnancy,” she said. “You would have despised me. So I decided to keep it to myself for a little while.”
Grant responded with a string of blistering curses and turned a threatening gaze toward the doctor. “The file, Linley. I’d like to see what other minor details you’ve been keeping from me.”
While many men would have been intimidated by the irate giant before him, Linley displayed no unease. “All right, Morgan, you may view the damned file. But not until after I talk to Miss Duvall…er, that is, this young woman…in private.”
“Why in private?” Grant asked.
“Because her welfare is my first concern. I’ve attended newly married women in hysterics after their wedding nights. I’d like to ascertain for myself if she is well, and it doesn’t help her nerves—or mine, for that matter—for you to be charging about like an enraged boar.”
